Author's Note: Welp, I'm back. I'm going to be doing these super-short stories from now on instead of the multi-paged short stories that took several days to write. I tend to lose motivation in writing when I have long, drawn out stories. I just want to write these stories about my characters and focus on their character beats and emotions, rather than one long drawn out plot. I do intend on making an overarcing plot with these stories, but told over many, smaller instances.
This story introduces a new character that will not be recieving a character concept page. The reason why is because I simply am not interested in making game concepts and I'm not interested in Overwatch (The Game) anymore. I just want to focus on the stories of my characters.
Harvey King, the handsome, smooth-talking, knuckle-bruiser of Overwatch, now reduced to another ruffian locked behind steel bars. The once highly-esteemed son of New York Cities biggest tech conglomerate entrepenuer, Leonhard King, now another criminal locked away for life for the high crime of terrorism. Not only that, but he was thrown under the bus, used as a scapegoat to get pressure off of King Enterprises, the company that dad always loved more than his own son. His own son, dammit!
"I'm tellin you Harv," Sean muttered on from the top bunk. "you've gotta cool off or you'll get yourself killed!"
"Shut up!" Kingbursted out at his insolent cell mate. The New Worker was a fairly handsome man with a sharp jawline and beautiful nose, but his charcoal black hair had become ragged due to a profound lack of hair gel in prison. Harvey was looking into a glass shiv that he had stolen from the one-eyed punk down the isle, desperately trying to get the angle just right so that he could see his reflection in it. He ran is his fingers down his jaw line, feeling the creases and folds that had been left by Winston's Tesla Cannon. His perfect face, the face who's nose had never once been broken in all of Harvey's days of brawling, was now left with an electrical scar that he would have to live with for the foreseeable future, at least until he can break out of this hole and get it fixed with a healthy dosage of surgury. "That damn monkey, he ruined my face!" He turned to Sean. "Look at this, he ruined my face!"
"Yeah, I've been looking at it for the past month or so." Sean snickered.
"You realize I already have a life sentence?" King snarled, his tone had grew contempted.
"Yeah, so? Most people here d-"
"'That means it won't matter if I use your teeth for golf balls!"
"Oh please kid, you ain't the first young punk to threaten me li-"
"I'll be the first one to go through with it," King yelled at Sean. grabbing him by the collar and dragging him down from the top bunk. "If you don't shut your fu-"
"Shut up in there!" A guard banged his baton against the bars, interrupting King. "And get your hands off your cellmate!"
"Sorry officer," King put on a happy, personable tone of voice for the gaurd. He obediently dropped Sean. "Won't happen again, I promise."
"Yeah, yeah." The guard walked off, uninterested in King's crocodile smile.
The moment the guard turned his back, King's face switched like a lightbulb, going from bright and charismatic to dark and irritated in a mere moment. He turned back to his stupid cellmate and lashed out at him, grabbing his collar and pulling him in close. "I think we need to come to an understanding, you and I," Harvey spoke menacingly. "Look pal, I've already had to put up with a lotta bull lately. I do not need a dishevelled, ugly piece of crap, such as you, giving me more bull. So if you continue to irritate me, I'm gonna make you choke on your teeth. You get me?"
Sean, at a lost for words, simply nodded out of fear. Sean was ugly and dishevelled, Harvey was truthful when he said that, but he was also much smaller than Harvey and wouldn't be able to defend himself.
"Good." Harvey gave Sean a toothy grin. Even in the dimly lit, murkey prison cell, Harvey's teeth still glistened. He dropped Sean, who immediately crawled back onto the top bunk, hugging the wall this time as to avoid being pulled down again, and sat down on his cold, hard matress. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to think of how to get out of this situation. Only he couldn't think of an escape plan, he had too much on his mind. He was trying to make sense of everything that's happened, the mistakes he made that lead to this point. He had everyone at Overwatch wrapped around his fingers like marionettes, his facade was perfectly crafted. He couldn't help but reminisce about when he first started, the conversation he had with his father to get the whole thing set up, the developing of squeaky-clean persona that would be irresistable to Winston and Sojourn, the persona that landed him a spot on Overwatch's small roster of agents and made everyone fall in love with him. Well, not literally fall in love with him, but he was a natural smooth talker and very easy to like upon first meeting.
He remembered the conversation with his father that got him introduced to the likes of Winston in the first place, the conversation between his father and the leaders of Overwatch. King Enterprises had promised to provide Overwatch with funding, but only so Harvey could get a chance within their ranks. Leonhard King, father of Harvey King, was the CEO of King Enterprises. The old man was an idealist, and so was his only son. They wanted to leave a good impact on the world, with King Enterprises having been nicknamed "The Company of the People"; at least, that's what the public saw. No, the real Leonhard King was a tyranical capitalist who valued money over human rights, a greedy old man who was born into a mafia family, but being the the second-born meant he never got a chance to take over the family when his father died. Instead, it was his elder brother, Everett King II, named after his and Leonhard's father, who got to take over the family. Unsatisfied with being second fiddle, Leonhard left the family completely to become an entrepanuer, and now, 50 years later, he was on top of New York's social hierarchy with the biggest tech conglomerate in New England. King Enterprises was built into many facets of life in America, they built all sorts of cars, home appliances, home security systems, but that's only what the media saw.
Of course, Leonhard never shook off his knack for crime. He was a King, and criminality flowed through the King Bloodline; taking money out of decent folks pockets was in their blood. The horrible truth of the matter was that King Enterprises, "The Company of the People", got into all sorts of shady business, such as illegally shipping arms overseas, racketeering, maintaining ties in the black market, and lobbying shady politicians. On top of that, King Enterprises was a major player in the Military Industrial Complex, producing all sorts of weapons for the government, and shipping all the surplus over seas to other countries; a good chunk of all equipment used by the U.S. military was manufactored by King Enterprises. And it is because of this influence on the Military Industrial Complex that Leonhard King also provides funding to terrorist organizations such as Talon, organizations who are keen on creating conflict and pushing the world to the edge of war. Corporate corruption ran through every level of King Enterprises, and everyone outside of the corporation was none the wiser.
It was yard time, and King was hanging out alone. He hadn't made any attempts to socialize with any of the other ruffians the populate the prison, for he isn't planning on staying very long, but he did intend on working out as much as he could while he was there. A long time ago, when King was a kid hanging out in the slums of New York, he had a buddy called Twig. He was called Twig because he was very skinny, but mostly because King wasn't a very imaginitive nicknamer. He got sent to prison at the age of 16 for accidentally killing a guy while trying to jack his car, and came out a few years later completely jacked. King ended up shooting and killing him a while after he got outta prison, mostly because Twig blamed King for getting locked up and wanted revenge, but King still remembered in high regards.
King was readying himself for the bench press, stretching and giving himself a mental preptalk, thinking along the lines of "just cuz you're in prison doesn't mean ain't King no more," and the like. While he was getting ready, a loud, gruff voice cut off his train of thought. "Hey, punk!" King swung his head around to see who was yelling at him, and beheld a man who was around his same height, but very, very prison-jacked. Not as prison-jacked as Twig was, but still very prison-jacked. "Your daddy wanted to give you a message." This man didn't seem particularly friendly.
"My daddy?" King was not happy about this. A message from his father? Really? That old bastard wanted nothing to do with his son, and if he wanted to send him a message, he could visit him on every other thursday! "The hell's the meaning of this?"
"He said you couldn't be naming any name, kid. Said you'd understand." The big man pulled out a shiv, swinging his arm forward while rushing at King.
"The hell!?" King exclaimed, caught off guard by the sudden attack. He managed to catch the man's wrist, stopping the shiv from plunging right into his guts. He had to act quickly, he wouldn't be able to hold this man's arm for very long before he got overpowered, so he had to resort to some dirty tactics. Spitting in the man's eyes then kicking him in the shin did the trick, causing the jacked man to faulter and drop his shiv. Harvey had been in many a street fight during his life, and with the shiv out of the equation he would be also to out-box this man. King was an experienced brawler, he learned how to tussle on the streets of New York City, and was once mentored by a prize-fighter how to box. If not for his father's interference, King would've spent his entire life living in slums, hanging around his Uncle's turf, instead of in the King's Estate with his father.
With his attacker instinctually wiping spit out from his eyes, King had the perfect opportunity to land his signature KO'ing right hook right into the man's dome. King wasn't the biggest, most intimidating fella on the block, but he knew how to throw a punch with a surprising amount of power. King threw several more punches, beating the man senseless with merciless intensity, just to let off some steam that he's been holding in since his incarceration. He would've beaten that man to death if he hadn't been hit in the shoulder by a gaurd's heavy baton from behind. King fell down and got tackled by a gaurd, ending the fight.
Thursday rolled around, and it was the other thursday. King, of course, didn't have any visitors, but he did have a phone call. King impatiently tapped on the tabletop, eagerly waiting for someone to pick up the phone. A wide, sparkling smile stretched across his face as the wheezy voice of an elderly smoker come out the phone. "Who is this?" The voice calmly asked.
"Hey, Uncle."

Hello again! I’m not sure if you've read or seen my other posts about roleplays but this one will purely be about Jujutsu Kaisen!
INTRODUCTION
My name is Hina. To know more about me, I was born and raised in Japan and I have been an avid writer ever since I moved to the States when I was 11. My second language is English but I believe it’s been pretty good these days. I recently turned 22 years old and I'm female. Talking about age, I would be comfortable with you being 17+ and preferably at least 20. Roleplaying with minors isn’t a big thing for me, I apologize. I’m in the west coast, PST timezone. Let’s see.. What other information can I give you? I would say I enjoy skating, basketball, watching tv shows and anime, and reading. My favorite anime is Nana and Death Note.
ROLEPLAY
For what i’m looking for, i’d have to say basically anything in the Jujutsu Kaisen universe. Perhaps something done in the Shibuya Arc, or even the Culling Games Arc where are our characters are participating. Or maybe something entirely different. I think it would be cool if our characters were strong on their own and everything was set up in the Culling Games Arc, them having to maybe ally or something. But we can also have it be basically them fighting together to make themselves stronger and then fight new enemies as well. I’m down for ideas!
I’m also down for a Modern AU roleplay with the original characters. Maybe an OC x CC or CC x CC in that case!
CHARACTERS
I tend to use character sheets to describe my character, these usually consist of names, background, and personality. More so on appearances, I prefer using animated or drawn references than real life people. I enjoy good enough references where I get the idea of how the character would look like.
The types of characters I write are either the lone wolf type that has some sad past which leads them to want to join someone for a redemption arc or the bubbly character who is the one that brings the mood up and is usually seen as trustworthy and of that kind.
I like all types of tropes, especially enemies to lovers or rivalry. I also really enjoy opposites attract as a whole from either opposite personality or something else they would be opposites in. Enemies to lovers takes my heart, though. I love seeing the characters go past the urge to ultimately hate each other and/or go past their usual way of disliking the others lineage or upcoming.
REQUIREMENT
I think this is my last paragraph on the roleplay. It’s the most important, at least. Requirements. All roleplay searches come with them. Or at least that’s what I heard! But don’t fret, there isn’t much.
I’ve seen this as one of the most used requirements, and I agree with it. As someone who’s first language wasn’t English, I understand that you may not be great at it. But please, I do require a partner that at least has proper use of grammar and punctuation. You don’t even have to use big words or anything, just at least know where to put your periods and the placement of your words.
My second requirement is for you to be LITERATE! Please. I’m a big writer, I tend to ramble on and tend to write more than what I thought I would. (like i’m doing right now) I write multiple paragraphs from the starter until the scene relaxes. I also understand that sometimes writing big blocks of words every response is tiring or boring so I don’t expect it all the time, at least after the starter has been made and in more important scenes. Dialogue also cuts my replies shorter.
Please please please be polite in OOC! We may just be role playing together but kindness goes all ways. If we do include OOC, I enjoy talking about many things. My day, movies, games, funny moments and stories, all of that!
I think that’s the end to this wonderful journey of an ad about my search. I hope you are still here, fellow writer! I would LOVE it if you reached out to me! This wasn’t all for nothing, right!
But don’t leave yet! I do have a passcode. I know this was a jumble of words and rambling but I still have to put one in. I heard that there’s a lot of people on here that don’t read things fully and miss out on rules or information! But.. Just because you read through this all, I’ll gladly give you options on the passcode! Also please put in an introduction of yourself! Don’t think “Oh maybe I shouldn’t bother this person with too much to read”! I like seeing big blocks.
PASSCODE:
What’s your dream country to travel to and why?
OR
Who’s your favorite TV show / Cartoon / Game / Anime character?
Feel free to pick both! Now, that’s all from me. Please don’t put your request as just “Wanna rp”!

• H 💕

Hello again! I’m not sure if you've read or seen my other posts about roleplays but this one will purely be about Jujutsu Kaisen!
INTRODUCTION
My name is Hina. To know more about me, I was born and raised in Japan and I have been an avid writer ever since I moved to the States when I was 11. My second language is English but I believe it’s been pretty good these days. I recently turned 22 years old and I'm female. Talking about age, I would be comfortable with you being 17+ and preferably at least 20. Roleplaying with minors isn’t a big thing for me, I apologize. I’m in the west coast, PST timezone. Let’s see.. What other information can I give you? I would say I enjoy skating, basketball, watching tv shows and anime, and reading. My favorite anime is Nana and Death Note.
ROLEPLAY
For what i’m looking for, i’d have to say basically anything in the Jujutsu Kaisen universe. Perhaps something done in the Shibuya Arc, or even the Culling Games Arc where are our characters are participating. Or maybe something entirely different. I think it would be cool if our characters were strong on their own and everything was set up in the Culling Games Arc, them having to maybe ally or something. But we can also have it be basically them fighting together to make themselves stronger and then fight new enemies as well. I’m down for ideas!
I’m also down for a Modern AU roleplay with the original characters. Maybe an OC x CC or CC x CC in that case!
CHARACTERS
I tend to use character sheets to describe my character, these usually consist of names, background, and personality. More so on appearances, I prefer using animated or drawn references than real life people. I enjoy good enough references where I get the idea of how the character would look like.
The types of characters I write are either the lone wolf type that has some sad past which leads them to want to join someone for a redemption arc or the bubbly character who is the one that brings the mood up and is usually seen as trustworthy and of that kind.
I like all types of tropes, especially enemies to lovers or rivalry. I also really enjoy opposites attract as a whole from either opposite personality or something else they would be opposites in. Enemies to lovers takes my heart, though. I love seeing the characters go past the urge to ultimately hate each other and/or go past their usual way of disliking the others lineage or upcoming.
REQUIREMENT
I think this is my last paragraph on the roleplay. It’s the most important, at least. Requirements. All roleplay searches come with them. Or at least that’s what I heard! But don’t fret, there isn’t much.
I’ve seen this as one of the most used requirements, and I agree with it. As someone who’s first language wasn’t English, I understand that you may not be great at it. But please, I do require a partner that at least has proper use of grammar and punctuation. You don’t even have to use big words or anything, just at least know where to put your periods and the placement of your words.
My second requirement is for you to be LITERATE! Please. I’m a big writer, I tend to ramble on and tend to write more than what I thought I would. (like i’m doing right now) I write multiple paragraphs from the starter until the scene relaxes. I also understand that sometimes writing big blocks of words every response is tiring or boring so I don’t expect it all the time, at least after the starter has been made and in more important scenes. Dialogue also cuts my replies shorter.
Please please please be polite in OOC! We may just be role playing together but kindness goes all ways. If we do include OOC, I enjoy talking about many things. My day, movies, games, funny moments and stories, all of that!
I think that’s the end to this wonderful journey of an ad about my search. I hope you are still here, fellow writer! I would LOVE it if you reached out to me! This wasn’t all for nothing, right!
But don’t leave yet! I do have a passcode. I know this was a jumble of words and rambling but I still have to put one in. I heard that there’s a lot of people on here that don’t read things fully and miss out on rules or information! But.. Just because you read through this all, I’ll gladly give you options on the passcode! Also please put in an introduction of yourself! Don’t think “Oh maybe I shouldn’t bother this person with too much to read”! I like seeing big blocks.
PASSCODE:
What’s your dream country to travel to and why?
OR
Who’s your favorite TV show / Cartoon / Game / Anime character?
Feel free to pick both! Now, that’s all from me. Please don’t put your request as just “Wanna rp”!

• H 💕

It occurred to me just now. Hear me out.
If we do Blind Betrayal - which we all do - and ask Maxson to spare Danse - which we all do - Maxson acts strangely out of character by letting Danse go, going back to the ship... and then telling the Sole Survivor to just keep it hush and play it cool... and then promote them?
Let's break this down.

1. Maxson lets Danse go, in a clear violation of his own beliefs. One can understand the rationale of letting it go. Maxson simply made the tactical choice of losing one of his best soldiers to keep another, instead of just losing both and also making an enemy of one of them - a powerful, well connected local.
   
2. Maxson decides to not pursue the issue. He spares someone who has dirt on him. Not only that. He keeps them around. Theoretically, he could just pretend to accept the Sole Survivor's demands and say "I'll see you at the Prydwen" - and then have a squad of mean fuckers in T-60s take him down under charges of high treason. It's in his best interest, even, in some ways. The logic is a bit more forced, here, but still makes sense. As the one mole in the Institute, it's worth keeping the SS around, even if they already have everything they need to put Liberty Prime together at this point.
   
3. Maxson promotes the Sole Survivor. This is where the logic seems to completely fall apart, at first glance. There is no practical reason to promote the Sole Survivor. It is counter-productive to promote the Sole Survivor. "Oh but it was a cover-up to make people think Danse got shot" - so what they need a cover story? It would make more sense to simply give the SS a medal or something, and leave the topic alone. "Oh he needs a new Paladin to replace the old Paladin" - the obvious right move is to promote Knight Rhys. He has the "Maxson is Steel Jesus" loyalty vibe. He is a member of the squad. He's been in the 'Wealth as long as Danse had been and is the only Knight left from that squad. He is a better candidate, period.
   

So, why?
Because Maxson knew what the Sole Survivor is.
A protagonist.
He doesn't phrase it in his head like that, but he knows the Sole Survivor is the "unknown variable", the big factor of change, the one that makes the events move forward. Even if the SS is just one person, he knows, instinctively, that becoming their enemy will spell their doom.
Why?
Because he's seen it before.
Picture a young Maxson. He's raised by the Lyons, Elder and Sentinel. Shy, nervous, bookish kid, the last Maxson, sole heir to the most prestigious name in the world, with all the crushing weight that comes with it. And then, one fine day, some baby-faced Lucy-MacLean-ass, vault dwelling motherfucker comes out of Vault 101, and in like a week and a half proceeds to kill half of the Wasteland raiders, countless Super Mutants and monsters and what have you, then a Behemoth, then an entire Enclave battallion, then the Enclave President, and then die of radiation poisoning to fix the water in the Capital wasteland - AND THEN get better from their case of the deads, and lead the charge against THE ENTIRE FUCKING ENCLAVE REMNANT.
As we know from lore, Maxson went from shy kid to Wasteland Superman almost immediately. Killed a Deathclaw at 13, killed the Super Mutant boss Shepherd at 15, brokered the Outcast return at 16, and was crowned King of Steel or whatever.
One might even imagine that young Maxson realized that people who can do impossible things exist. That he might have something to prove, that he could be overshadowed. But that's beside the point.
Maxson then takes the Prydwen to the 'Wealth. His recon patrol identified the next great glorious crusade, and it's time to bring the airship to where the action is. And guess what he finds? Apparently, some baby-faced, Lucy-MacLean-ass, vault dwelling motherfucker recently came out of Vault 111, and his trusted Paladin Danse says that they're formidable and should be promoted right away, and that his whole squad owes their lives and their mission success to them, et cetera et cetera. And then, that person finds by themselves how to break into the Institute, which is universally considered to be impossible.
Huh.
Maybe there's something in the food, down in them Vaults.
My theory is, Maxson knows the Sole Survivor is The Person Destined To Win This. He realizes that every task the last Vault Person From Hell took upon themselves got done, no matter how impossible, and that every person that defied them died in a matter of days, and that this miracle-weaver must be the new Vault Person From Hell. He knows that becoming their enemy is A Bad Fucking Idea (TM). And he knows, at a subconscious level, that somehow, against all odds, being the enemy of this person is going to end with him dead. After all, killing an Elder is a less impossible feat than breaking into the Institute and coming back to tell the tale.
Elder Maxson has seen what The Protagonist can do, and he knows what they look like. He grew up under the shadow of one. And there ain't no fucking way he's gonna make them an enemy.
The promotion to Knight is an olive branch. It's him saying, "hey, I know you forced me to betray my honor and let loose a machine who knows way too much about the Prydwen and now may be within reach of the Institute, thus risking a massive security breach. But no hard feelings. I am not mad. I promise. Please don't think I am mad. I really want us to be friends. My name is gonna stay green if it's up to me, okay?" It's his reaction to subconsciously understanding what it means when The Protagonist has A Mission To Kill You in their fucking Pip-Boy. (Hint: it means they kill you.)
And the promotion to Sentinel? The ultimate insurance. It means the SS stays Brotherhood. It means that all BoS personnel in the 'Wealth is his subordinate, meaning that no local can create a situation with Maxson - like, say, a jealous Rhys - without having to go through the SS first. (Hint: they would not make it through the SS.) And finally, it means that they don't have to follow when Maxson goes on his next great glorious crusade. No risk of the SS getting that Mission to Kill Him, because the SS will stay in the 'Wealth, taking care of it in whatever way.
TL;DR - Maxson saw, as a kid, what the Lone Wanderer was capable of in Fallout 3. He takes one look at the Sole Survivor, and understands that this is THEIR story, not his, because he's seen it before. So, when Blind Betrayal takes the "Danse lives" path, Maxson knows better than to follow his heart (and his beliefs, and protocol, and logic) and try to get rid of the SS. He remembers when Autumn tried that with the LW. Everything thereafter makes wicked sense, if we believe that Maxson knows that he is dealing with the hero of this story and trying to not become its villain.

To preface this is a narrative of the fallout lore both established in all the fallout games and many of the popular mods created for both new Vegas, fallout 3 and fallout 4 and a subsequent idea for a fallout 5 title that I wrote and wanted to get opinions on.
If you think this is cool lmk, if you think this sucks lmk. I’m just interested in sharing my own ideas with the wider fallout community.

 From Lone-wanderer to the courier (TTW tie in) 

After the events of Fallout 3, the Lone Wanderer, having no family and no place left to truly call home, gathered up his companions and headed west to start a new life. Over the next 4 years, the Lone Wanderer lived in the west with many of his former companions going their separate ways. The Lone Wanderer began working as a courier, known as Courier 6. There, he had a particularly bad run-in with a man named Benny, who introduced him to a bullet. The damage done to the Lone Wanderer caused him to lose his memories of his past. Thus, he became the courier.
After the events of Fallout: New Vegas, and the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, the NCR's military and infrastructure were severely weakened after destroying the Legion. Sensing an opportunity for mutual benefit the West Coast Brotherhood of Steel reached out to the Mojave chapter, where, under the leadership of Elder McNamera, the NCR and Brotherhood reached an agreement and official peace pact between the two groups, which culminated in the brotherhood becoming an official autonomous part of the NCR.
The West Coast Airship docks within the Strip, which was under the control of the Courier and member of the Mojave chapter. The West Coast reintegrated the Mojave chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel and uses the Strip as a base of operations. Leveraging their advanced technology and military prowess, they quickly gain the upper hand in engagements against the remaining enemies of the NCR.

 The Coming Storm (Dust tie in) 

Some time after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam and the BOS occupation of the strip joint expedition teams of the BOS AND NCR discovered the Sierra Madre Casino, as well as the mysterious and deadly cloud. The NCR and BOS scientists conducted experiments with the Cloud, bringing both massive samples of Cloud Residue and corpses of Ghost People back to the Mojave. Many of these experiments were conducted in a makeshift laboratory set up in the lobby of the Lucky 38 casino. Though the full nature of the experiments are unknown, it is implied that the participants involved were considered criminals to the NCR and the nature of the experiments were brutal, sadistic, and inhumane.
Around the same time, the BOS received reports that a massive sandstorm was approaching New Vegas. They did not share this information with the public, and instead began to outline evacuation procedures.
Five years after the expedition and experiments something went terribly wrong. It is implied that a disgruntled Vault 21 custodian may have intentionally sabotaged the Lucky 38 laboratory, causing a new Cloud to form over the Strip. This cloud was far more lethal and corrosive than the Cloud of the Sierra Madre. The corrosive capabilities even hindered the BOS power armor as the metal would be gradually eaten away by the cloud.
As the Cloud descended upon New Vegas, panic engulfed the Strip and Freeside. Riots and violence broke out. Miss communications between the directives of the BOS and NCR resulted in troopers executing innocent civilians in the streets. In response, the Kings rebelled against the NCR, while also aiding in an evacuation of Freeside, saving countless lives. The Followers of the Apocalypse were forced to abandon the Old Mormon Fort. The Airship of the Western Brotherhood attempted to evacuate all BOS personnel and any relevant technology from the strip before returning to Lost Hills. This resulted in some squads of the BOS being forced to take up residency within the casinos of the strip and vault 21. The NCR locked the gates to the Strip, with all civilians inside. The rebels led by the kings were forced out of and under the city, to the Sewers below. The BOS left in Vault 21 have been desperately trying to chisel away at the concrete within the vault in the hopes of tunneling back to Hidden valley.
NCR troops then dumped radioactive waste into the Sewers to kill any survivors, before fleeing the city themselves. Eventually, the situation became so bad that NCR General Lee Oliver ordered an evacuation of all NCR personnel from New Vegas via the Strip Monorail.
These events nullified the BOS and NCR treaty resulting in BOS forces seizing locations across the Mojave that had the capability to keep them safe from the cloud while also engaging in Guerilla warfare tactics against the NCR.
The city would ultimately fall to the Cloud and to the dust storms that blew in from the West. While some survivors attempted to take shelter in the Strip's casinos they were met with the business ends of BOS laser rifles. Those who did not head for the casinos were not so lucky, as anyone who wasn’t immediately killed by the Cloud became Ghosts and cloud victims, while others died slowly of radiation poisoning and exposure.
While New Vegas fell to the Cloud, a massive radioactive dust storm engulfed the rest of the Mojave Wasteland, causing widespread devastation. Whole settlements and towns were evacuated or otherwise destroyed. One settlement in particular, Goodsprings, was struck by an unknown form of plague, killing most of its residents and turning the once-prosperous community into a Ghost Towns.
Other areas, such as Boulder City, attempted to protect themselves with the same suits worn by Ghost people in Vegas and the Sierra Madre, ultimately becoming trapped themselves. To make matters worse, the Tunnelers from the Divide eventually burrowed through to the Mojave Wasteland, As predicted by Ulysses. causing even more death and destruction. The dust storms blotted out the Sun, allowing the Tunnelers to hunt by day, killing off most of the native animal population in the Mojave.
The effects of the Fall would spread as far out as Zion Valley, where spore carriers from Vault 22 ran wild, alongside another strange, terrible creature, dubbed the Wendigo by the tribals within the valley.
After the fall, little remained of the old Mojave Wasteland. Once-powerful factions such as, The Great Khans, and Powder Gangers were either wiped out or dissolved into roaming gangs of Tribals and Survivors. The Western Brotherhood which had resided in the strips cohesion collapsed as its members lost contact with the surrounding Casinos and vault 21.
Cannibalism became rampant, as people did whatever they could to survive. The NCR remained in control of various locations such as Camp Golf, Hoover Dam, Camp McCarran and Nellis AFB. Those fortunate enough to evacuate the Mojave mostly wound up at Camp Adytum, an NCFollowers refugee center in the Boneyard, however they were quickly drafted and sent to the now ongoing BOS and NCR conflict.
The NCR would eventually launch expeditions into the ruins of New Vegas, presumably to acquire materials left over from the Lucky 38 laboratories. However, none of these expeditions were successful, and the NCR soon abandoned all attempts to return to New Vegas, with only the Royst-Bernard Expedition consisting of rogue NCR scientific and military personnel returning in an attempt to succeed, where regular NCR failed.

 The Patriot at Heart (America Rising 2 tie-in) 

In the aftermath of the events of Fallout 3, the remnants of the Enclave fled north into the Commonwealth where they waited in hiding for 10 years. After the events of Fallout 4, the Lone Survivor helped revive the Enclave and ultimately forced the Institute into being folded into the Enclave, bringing their advanced technology and expertise in synth creation under one banner.
The Enclave embarked on a bold experiment, merging their iconic power armor technology with the synthetic advancements of the Institute. The result was the creation of a new breed of soldiers: Power Armored Synths or PAS.
These hybrid warriors combined the resilience and strength of power armor with the versatility and adaptability of synthetic intelligence. Clad in imposing power armor suits, these Synths were capable of executing complex military maneuvers, engaging enemies with precision and force.
Under the banner of the Enclave, this new army of PAS’s became the vanguard of their expansionist ambitions, striking fear into the hearts of any who knew of their existence. The Enclave took a page from the Institute by beginning to kidnap high-ranking members of the Railroad, Brotherhood of Steel, and Minutemen, replacing them with Synth sleeper agents who would corrupt the organization of the Commonwealth and East Coast Brotherhood to weaken them for an Enclave assault. This culminated in the Enclave assault on the Prydwen, forcing Elder Maxson to retreat back to the Capital Wasteland.

 Fallout 5: Tactics 

The year is 2300, 13 years after the events of Fallout 4.
A squad of the Chicago-based Midwest Brotherhood intercepts a transmission from the East Coast Brotherhood, calling for aid from the West Coast Brotherhood in a last-ditch effort to defend the Capital Wasteland from the Commonwealth-based Enclave assault.
Our character, a Midwest Brotherhood Paladin dubbed the Major, must traverse the Midwest, gaining new allies and attempting to mend the fractured Midwest Brotherhood to aid in the coming conflict. Our character must also fix up a convoy to traverse the wasteland of the Midwest in order to make it to the East Coast. Various quests and side quests will provide the character with allies and further supplies for the coming conflict and further cement the Midwest Brotherhood's position within the region.
Once the player believes they have gathered their small army sufficiently and created their convoy, they embark on a journey towards the East. Along the way, they are intercepted by Enclave and Super Mutant forces. Upon entering into the Capital Wasteland, the general's forces link up with what’s left of the East Coast Brotherhood who have been hiding out in Rockopolis after the Citadel was infiltrated and taken over by the Enclave. DC now acts as the front lines of a war yet again between the Enclave, Brotherhood, and a new faction in the wasteland called the Behemoths, an organized and somewhat intelligent super mutant group led by an intelligent mutant named Osiris, who was once a member of the Master's army. Osiris united the D.C. Mutants and launched his own series of attacks on the Brotherhood when the Enclave took hold of the Citadel.
Along the way, we meet a one-armed Three Dog who barely survived the Enclave bombing of the GNR building but has since set up shop in Broadcast Tower KTB with a small contingent of Brotherhood Paladins who aided against the Enclave, rescuing Three Dog.
As the Major and the elders plot out a plan to assault the Enclave at the Citadel.
Mid west Factions: 1. Brotherhood of Steel (Midwest Chapter): - The player's faction, focused on preserving pre-war technology and knowledge. - Known for their advanced technology and power armor. - Initially, they prioritize their interests but may assist others if it aligns with their goals.

1. Midwest Brotherhood Outcasts:
   
   • A splinter faction of the Brotherhood of Steel, formed due to disagreements over the main Brotherhood's leadership or ideologies.
   • They may possess similar technology and resources as the main Brotherhood but operate independently, sometimes in opposition to their parent faction.
2. Reavers:
   
   • A ruthless raider group terrorizing the Midwest wasteland.
   • Known for their brutality and willingness to pillage and plunder.
   • Considered a major threat to the stability of the region, often in conflict with other factions.
3. The Vikings:
   
   • A raider group modeled after the historical Vikings (with a mixture of the football Minnesota Vikings.)
4. Gammorin's Army Remnants:
   
   • A militant faction once led by the super mutant Gammorin.
   • Composed primarily of super mutants, they seek to establish dominance over the wasteland through force.
   • Viewed as a formidable enemy by other factions due to their strength and aggression.
5. Vault 0:
   
   • A vault inhabited by a powerful supercomputer known as the Calculator.
   • The Calculator once sought to expand its influence and control over the wasteland, posing a significant threat to other factions; however, it was reprogrammed by someone named the Warrior in the year 2197. This effectively deactivated and left the army of robots dormant and sealed away within Vault 0. Their advanced technology and military capabilities make them a formidable adversary and an equally valuable ally if they can only be reactivated and reprogrammed.
6. Tribal Communities:
   
   • Various tribes and communities scattered throughout the Midwest wasteland.
   • They may have their own customs, traditions, and conflicts.
   • Depending on the player's actions, they could become allies, enemies, or neutral parties.

As the player ventures further into the capital wasteland they find that it is now far greener than in the past and wild punga fruit now can be found around the wastes, if the player makes a detour to oasis they will find that Harold has rapidly grown and from the Potomac River (death law sanctuary) in the west to temple of the union in the east is now a lush paradise (that is if it weren’t for all the deathclaws and raiders who stalk the forest.) As Harold/Bob spread, the brotherhood eventually sent out missions to learn more about it, after encountering Linden, they made a formal treaty with the poplars, in which the poplars were given water in exchange for the fresh fruit from the oasis. The brotherhood also helped encourage the trade of Punga with the Poplars to be grown within the oasis to help aid soil development and remove radiation. The poplars now tend the forest and have become somewhat of a nature inspired farming/fire fighting force, having a couple of villages throughout the forest network. However raider gangs also set fire to the trees, (if the player investigates they’ll find out that the enclave is paying the raiders to burn the trees and fight their way in to help destabilize the brotherhoods food supply and trade routes)
If the player chooses to side with the poplars/ Brotherhood the trees will continue to spread at a rate of 1 mile for every 24 real world hours that pass in game.
If the player helps the enclave they will be tasked with infiltrating the original Oasis and burning Harold alive, and the trees will dwindle at the same rate until the oasis is fully gone.

The majority of Eminem's rap feuds have been against Z-list celebrities, middle-aged contemporary R&B/pop singers, and washed-up rappers. Mariah Carey, Nick Cannon, Benzino (his second diss song was well-written, but there are rumors that it was ghostwritten), Melle Mel (he's an aging old school rap artist from a bygone era), Ja Rule (admittedly, he had few scathing lines on Loose Change), Machine Gun Kelly, Insane Clown Posse, Moby (he's not even a rap artist), Christina Aguilera, Charlamagne tha God, Will Smith, Lord Jamar, and Jermaine Dupri.
There's this revisionist idea that artists "don't or didn't want smoke" with Eminem. Artists just don't go after one another unprovoked because that's generally not how rap beefs start. In order for a rapper to diss another rapper (especially elite ones), there would need to be some sort of pre-existing animosity in the air. There have been a few instances where Eminem has gone head-to-head with a skilled opponent, namely Cage, Canibus, and arguably Everlast. With Cage, it was accusations of "style biting." With Everlast, it was over a perceived disrespectful interaction with Eminem. With Canibus, there were rumors that Eminem ghostwrote LL Cool J's The Ripper Strikes Back.
Eminem, however, never bothered to respond to the diss songs written by Evidence, Esham, K-Rino, Pacewon, or the Game.
I think what's more interesting is that, outside of written diss records, if you look at Eminem's freestyle battle rap record, he's lost to rappers with sharp penmanship, notably Rhymefest, MC Juice, Otherwize, and Doseone (it's important to point out that Eminem had been rapping for almost a decade before participating in Scribble Jam and the Rap Olympics, so he wasn't some fresh-faced beginner in the rap battle circuit).
​

I caved and got the game since people said the game was worth it and I watched the trailer and found it cool so I decided to give it a try.Currently, it’s downloading and so far it says it’ll be complete in 2 hours and 23 mins(although it’s going down quite fast and doesn’t seem as it’ll take that long)
I know there’s a lot to look forward to about the game such as using guns, Navi weapons(such as bows) being able to get a Banshee and land mounts and also customization of your character.The only downside is that you can’t name your character which sucks, but other than that it seems pretty cool! If anyone knows any Easter eggs(I know Jake Sully is talked about a lot so I don’t really need that one) but any other ones would be nice!

Okay, so, given that I'm at a pretty special and reputable university, one of the best in the country, I have found it common to observe that, regardless of where I go outside of Berkeley, people generally react with admiration and praise upon learning where I go to school. For instance, it is not uncommon for me to observe displays of pleasant surprise, rising eyebrows in admiration, or for them to mouth the words "wow," denoting, obviously, an acknowledgement of Berkeley's academic pedigree, reputation and all the implications about one’s personal ability, intelligence, and IQ that accompany attendance here.
I've grown accustomed to these reactions. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel little endorphin rush each time I received such praise. If I’m being completely honest, I seek opportunities where I can name-drop Cal into conversations with individuals whom I’ve just met so that it raises my personal stock in their eyes. After all, it feels good to be smart and be acknowledged as such. Usually, simply uttering the name Berkeley is all it takes for the person I’m speaking with to change their disposition and begin treating me with a little more respect.
This is the case about 90% of the time.
The other 10% can be divided into two cases: people who don’t know much about college rankings or colleges in general, and the second group is UCLA students. Typically, these people will learn that I am a Berkeley student and not bat an eye or show any added respect. The person in the former group will simply ask what I'm studying, usually. I don't take offense to these folks because I attribute their reactions simply to a lack of information. The latter group, however, the Bruins, tend to say things like, “Cool, what are you studying there?” or “How do you like it there?” or “What’s your major?” without any facial expressions that convey acclamation for the fact that I attend Cal.
In fact, I can’t think of a time when a Bruin treated me with the same instant high-esteem I’d expect from 90% of people I encounter. This is starting to bug me more and more given that they're obviously familiar with UC Berkeley and what kind of institution it is. Whereas the first group's excuse is that they are simply ignorant on the subject, I haven't figured out why UCLA kids don't react the same way as students from other UCs and the general population.
I have probably encountered dozens of students, throughout my travels across the state during my three years at Cal, from every UC campus. All across the board, from UC Merced to Riverside and even UCSF, students from these campuses show instant respect and display kudos and are generally impressed when they learn that I’m a Golden Bear. This is true for every campus except UCLA.
And I’m left wondering: Do you think they do this on purpose? What possible reason could they have for not reacting like 90% of the population does? It’s pretty perplexing. It’s been bothering me lately—particularly because I went back to visit my grandparents in SoCal over break and ran into UCLA students all over LA county. Their reactions, upon hearing what school I attend, showed the same neutral faces or light smiles as before I uttered the Berkeley name. Their orientation to me didn’t change at all. There were no raised eyebrows accompanied by "oohhs" and "aahhs." To be honest, I'm not used to this.
When I meet a UCSD student, for example, they typically show a lot of respect and light up. Many of them become excited with lots of questions about attending Berkeley; barring that I have somewhere to be, I tend to stick around, sharing what life is like at Cal. But with UCLA students, I never experience this at all. I feel like maybe they don’t know their place in the pecking order? I understand if this comes off as super petty and perhaps a little pretentious, but I wanted to see why this might be the case.
Thank you for reading.

So I decided to bite the expensive bullet and upgrade my system from a Threadripper 3960X to a Threadripper 7960X.
I don't particularly need a high core count, though I can certainly use them all some of the time, but I can't use a toy computer platform like AM5, which has no room for expansion cards. But I do want the fastest per-core performance I can get, which makes TR 7000 the best I can do with a platform that's actually usable.
On the runup to actually doing the hardware swap, I decided to run a number of performance tests to see just how much faster the new setup is, using a handful of standard benchmarks, and some game testing.
Here's a Google spreadsheet with the data for the testing I did:
Sheet Link
All metrics in the sheet come from a three-run average. All the averages across tests are done with a geometric mean.
Before going over the tests a bit, here's the relevant hardware information:
Threadripper 3960X PBO 600W +200 auto-OC ASUS ROG Zenith II Extreme Alpha 128GB Kingston Server Premier DDR4-3200 KSM32ED8/32ME Unbuffered ECC CL22-22-22-52-74 (SPD)
Threadripper 7960X PBO 400W +200 auto-OC ASRock TRX50 WS 128GB Kingston Fury Renegade Pro DDR5-6400 KF564R32RBE2K4-128 Registered ECC CL32-39-39-80-119 (EXPO)
Sapphire Nitro+ 7900 XTX Stock settings for that card.
While I set the PBO limits for the 3960X to 600W, in reality it only draws up to about 360W. Also, the auto-OC value doesn't actually work. It maxes out at about 4.525GHz. The all-core fully loaded frequency ranges from 4.075GHZ to 4.125GHz.
The 7960X easily consumes 400W, and probably has some performance headroom left if given more power, but I think 400W is enough for my purposes. The highest recorded frequency is 5.775GHz, and the all-core fully loaded frequency is 5GHz.
I put a new boot SSD in the 7960X system, but restored my Windows 10 install to it from an image backup, so the operating system is both the same version and the same instance.
Cooling is a custom water loop, with an XSPC RayStorm Neo water block on the processor. It was a hardware transplant, so the cooling is identical with both setups.
There are three individual sheets in the document:
CPU Tests Game Tests 3DMark Tests
CPU Tests:
I used several versions of Cinebench and Blender Open Data (4.1.0), for standard tests that anyone can do. The Handbrake, WinRAR, and InfoZip tests use custom data that I'm not going to distribute, so you can't replicate those tests directly. Of all the tests, the Cinebench ST and InfoZip ones are single-threaded.
CPU Tests Summary:
The overall MT uplift is 52%, and the overall ST uplift is 45%.
3DMark Tests:
With the 3DMark tests, I ran most of the versions I have access to, going back to 3DMark06. I also included the CPU-only test called CPU Profile. 3DMark tests have always been significantly bottlenecked by the CPU, so you can see that most tests show a sizable uplift even in the graphics portion of the tests. The exception is 3DMark11, which is the only test they've released thus far where the graphics card is close to being the bottleneck. FireStrike Extreme is also more bound by the GPU than the rest, but not as much as with 3DMark11.
3DMark Result Summary:
The overall uplift for the graphics results is 39%, and for the CPU results is 41%.
Game Tests:
The game tests are all run at 2560x1440, the resolution I play at, and have the highest detail settings sans any kind of real-time ray-tracing (which I find useless at this point in time), and without any motion blur or depth of field effects (both of which are abhorrent and should be killed with fire). So this is not low-resolution, low-settings testing meant to show the largest difference between processors. This is meant to show the actual difference that I'll experience in games.
I chose a fairly small number of games I knew to have appreciable CPU bottlenecks, and added some from my not-yet-played library which have built-in benchmarks. With the built-in benchmarks, I also used MSI Afterburner to capture average and 1% low frame rates, with the exception of the Crysis tests, which run four in a row automatically, and wouldn't allow test separation.
A brief description of the in-game benchmarks, which would allow someone to approximate the same tests in some of them:
Shadow of the Tomb Raider:
Start across a small bridge from the hidden city market square. Cross the bridge, loop around the square, return to the bridge, making sure to stay level and look up on the stairs and while heading back towards the bridge.
Cyberpunk 2077:
Start at the entrance to Jig Jig street. Walk forward, across the small bridge, then turn right and loop back around towards the entrance again. Turn right at the entrance road and then turn left before the bridge, looping around to the right after that and crossing the small bridge from the other side back to where you started at the entrance.
Starfield:
Start at your ship landed in Akila. Walk towards the central building, then go up the stairs to the right. Go down stairs to the left twice, then go right to loop back around towards the entrance (past Laredo), then turn left and return to the nose of the ship.
The Witcher 3:
Start at the Hierarch Square fast travel point. Run (not sprint) straight on the left road out of the square, and keep following the road as it goes right around the outside of the square. Upon re-entering the square, go left up the square, then right to return to the fast travel.
Minecraft:
Use the Sodium renderer, use ResolutionControl+ to set 2.0x resolution (for anti-aliasing), set your render distance to 32, then go to a built-up base area with lots of stuff, and walk around a set course.
Game Test Summary:
As you can see with the Crysis results, that game is heavily CPU-bound. The "GPU" benchmark is just an aerial loop around the island, but runs 86% faster on the 7960X over the 3960X.
For the rest of the games, considering only the data collected with MSI Afterburner, there's an overall uplift of 42% on the average frame rates, and 46% on the 1% lows.
The lowest uplift was 19% on the Cyberpunk 2077 built-in average, where the uplift on the in-game average was 44%. The highest uplift was 67% in Minecraft, which is going to vary substantially by what kind of things have been built and collected where you are in the game. In my base, it was a very built-up area with plenty of entities, running minecarts, and basic redstone systems active. If I do a similar walk around the middle of nowhere, the average is 491fps with 1% lows of 142.8fps, and the GPU was much more loaded. The highest uplift in a more modern game was 59% in Starfield, which is pretty substantial.
I did also test Fallout 4, but had to discard the results. The performance dropped notably when using borderless window mode, and quite beyond that, the game is stuck in some kind of limbo where neither the CPU nor the GPU are bottlenecked. It's just stuck at a low frame rate (48fps, almost rock solid, with the 7960X) without maxing out the main render thread or coming even close to maxing out the GPU. In fact, I found that I could run the game at 5760x3240 using VSR without maxing out the GPU or losing any performance. That allows one to get better anti-aliasing than the game's TAA. While the frame rate is low, it feels bizarrely smooth. I'll have to look into that later to see if there's some way to get the engine to render more frames.
Conclusion:
I have to say I'm very disappointed with AMD for pricing their non-toy platform so high, and not including lower-core-count options in the non-workstation lineup. I also think, at these prices, that the CCD's should have V-cache, which would have had profound impacts on gaming performance.
That said, I'm not disappointed with the performance uplift. In some cases, it's exactly what I expected based on third-party reviews. In others, namely gaming, it's higher than I expected base on those same reviews. Part of that is probably due to the mediocre-speed DDR4 used with the 3960X, where ECC options were quite limited. With DDR5, the registered ECC options are notably better. The DDR5 kit has considerably better latency than the DDR4 kit (from 24.4% to 37.5% lower across the range), which definitely helps in games.
As a side note, while assembling and testing the 7960X system, I used a Noctua NH-U14S TR4-SP3 cooler with the SP6 adapter kit (which seems to do nothing but increase mounting pressure). I just wanted to relate how well that air cooler does with the processor. I only ran a couple Cinebench tests on air, but the results were very close to the ones done on water. I have that cooler on the 3960X right now, powered up as a motherboard-on-a-box, and it gets the same performance as water. Slightly more, at the moment, as basically all background tasks are disabled on that machine now. I'd probably recommend that over an AIO.
That concludes my somewhat wordy write-up.

First of all, very new to SV. First playthrough, Summer of year 4, and very much taking it slow and easy. Trying to escape the minmax grind I love to drag myself into with most games. Woke up, TV says spirits will shower us. So, off to the skull caverns, right? Dwarf statue said +chance to find stairs. Other statue said +prismatic butterfly (first time).
Wait, which do I chase? Bump it, go delving in the caverns. I pull up at the bus stop around 9:40 and the freaking butterfly is there. (8k gold maybe?) The caverns roll smoothly. I'm running burglar ring and luck ring with a crab cake buff. Iridium flows like water. Near the end of the day I hit treasure chests on both 41 and 42. Nothing major, but cool. Picked up an upgraded fairy chest along the way, too - moved my healer from lvl 2 to 3. And then what do I get on my last floor of the night? Floor 48 or 49? Another chest!!!
And in it...........MY FIRST FREAKING AUTO PETTER. I'm dead yall, totally dead. Best run to date. I know people have had better, but man does it still feel amazing. So, my name is Erik the farmer, owner and proprietor of Smokywood Farms, and this has been my TED talk.

Howdy!
My name is Sam. I am 21 and from London! I was hoping to perhaps make some good friends who share some similar hobbies! or just meet some new cool people! :)
Sooo I really like to travel and I have been to more than 14 countries around the globe! Im a nerdy guy so I like gaming especially horror, open world and rpg games, reading comics (my favourite graphic novel is the sandman), listening to music ( 80's 70's is my favourite period ), hiking and also I like science stuff and politics. I'm a pretty energetic guy, so I'm usually in a happy mood! Also, I'm a proud member of the LGBTQ+ community! (Gay)
Tbh, I have a lot of interesting stuff to tell, and yeah, anyway, if you reached that point and want to become friends, feel free to DM! :D

Howdy!
My name is Sam. I am 21 and from London! I was hoping to perhaps make some good friends who share some similar hobbies! or just meet some new cool people! :)
Sooo I really like to travel and I have been to more than 14 countries around the globe! Im a nerdy guy so I like gaming especially horror, open world and rpg games, reading comics (my favourite graphic novel is the sandman), listening to music ( 80's 70's is my favourite period ), hiking and also I like science stuff and politics. I'm a pretty energetic guy, so I'm usually in a happy mood! Also, I'm a proud member of the LGBTQ+ community! (Gay)
Tbh, I have a lot of interesting stuff to tell, and yeah, anyway, if you reached that point and want to become friends, feel free to DM! :D

Howdy!
My name is Sam. I am 21 and from London! I was hoping to perhaps make some good friends who share some similar hobbies! or just meet some new cool people! :)
Sooo I really like to travel and I have been to more than 14 countries around the globe! Im a nerdy guy so I like gaming especially horror, open world and rpg games, reading comics (my favourite graphic novel is the sandman), listening to music ( 80's 70's is my favourite period ), hiking and also I like science stuff and politics. I'm a pretty energetic guy, so I'm usually in a happy mood! Also, I'm a proud member of the LGBTQ+ community! (Gay)
Tbh, I have a lot of interesting stuff to tell, and yeah, anyway, if you reached that point and want to become friends, feel free to DM! :D

--⧼ BEGIN Broadcast Message ⧽--
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Priority Level: Urgent
:: From ::
Center Arm of the Emperor, Planet Laran
:: To ::
All Survivors of Fellow Royal Cast Broods
:: Message ::
The Emperor has graciously permitted the use of his Excellency's summer home on Planet Laran, located in the Empire's Center Arm, as a temporary refuge during the unprecedented violent Terran offences against His Holiness and the holiness of the Omni-brood of Ix.
:: Attachments ::
Coordinates and Flight Key
:: Royal Cryptographic Signature ::
Lord La'Ix, The Emperor's Right-Center Arm
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
--⧼ END Broadcast Message ⧽--

earlier

"CURSE THEM! The great houses are going to have my bloody head for this! There is no way this should've happened and under my command too! The Golden Emperor's own exotic holiday world has gone to ash and the only one to blame is going to be me. Well it was basically my watch anyways. Curse. Them. All"
Those were the only legible sounds one could hear among the frantic stamping of one particular Ixian lord as he hurried away through the underbrush of the royal reserve just outside the centre palace. The same Ixian lord that, only hours earlier, was delighting in his typical cooked boar while enjoying his evening's entertainment of a young Terran girl running for her life from a loose Laran tiger. Something about the way those bipeds run always makes him laugh. Some similarly caste Ixian would call this form of entertainment childish, lowbrow, and immature. He would tend to agree. But sometimes he just wanted cheap slapstick humour. The day to day life of the royal caste tends to get dull with all the fine arts an Ixian of his caste is meant to enjoy.
"How did it all go to shit!?! I was always attentive, and there hasn't been an uprising since those terrans were tamed for the palace. I mean we mostly neuter the problematic ones anyways, so why all the sudden aggression?", he shouted in agitation at the emptiness in front of him.
Speeding through the royal garden which in actuality is a repurposed Savannah of the island the palace is on. The Ixian was a beast of speed. Perfectly honed and trained over decades, and genetically maintained over eons, he always proudly held that he was the fasted in his brood of 16. Making a name for himself among the other broodkin for being the most genetically suited for the rank of high general (not that there was any need for generals, there hasn't been need for war in so long). Of course the Ixians always pride themselves in having no excess potential, and adapting your environment to suit your biology, but it never hurts to have perfect biology. That's the true pride of an Ixian.
That innate need to change the universe rather than changing themselves is what led to their vast interstellar empire. One that reached from constellation to constellation and then eventually to the arms of entire galaxies, terraforming worlds to the same environment they were already adapted to. Since forcing nature into one's bidding was the most sacred duty of any that shared a lick of Ix biology.
Which was why the Ix was confident in themselves. This Ixian in particular surely felt surprised, but mainly he was only moderately upset at the sudden change of situation, from being comfortable in the royal dining hall to sudden exercise.
"Everything can be changed back. Everything can be changed back." It repeated the mantra to itself. As it began to relax and turn its snarled sharp mouth into a toothy grin.
"Yes, there is nothing to worry about at all. Then let's make a game plan. Just need to make it to the space port at the harbour. Grab a ride out and find someone else to take the fall. That old royal butler is as ancient as the dirt of the broodworld. Hell, he probably was there when it vanished in the shadow of the holy empire's long past." chuckling to himself at the quite witty remark, but saddened that no one else was there to hear it.
Should be realistic enough for the others to believe. But first things first, I need to reach the harbour-master. It thought while its dense muscles powered the beastly lizard-like form on its journey, as it bound in the direction of its destination at top speed on all fours.
The blood red sun was already kissing the horizon by the time the Ixian went to nearly collapse under exhaustion of the extended sprint. He hasn't ran this far and fast than when he a young broodling that won competitions and competitions in the royal sports. I think I might have overdid it. He thought while massaging the oncoming threat of a sneaky cramp in his hind leg.
The Ixian were well known for speed. But their stamina was another thing. There bodies simply didn't have the evolved features for long distance travel. There was never truly any need in the past, as their very steady and controlled climate and sparsely diverse ecosystem on Ix never truly required much challenge.
It turned its panting head to face the way it came, gazing proudly at the great distance it made in such a short while.
But something was off by that view. Something different to what he was expecting. The view itself was mostly fine. Well, as fine as a smoking mark in the distance, presumably from the summer palace being engulfed in flame and spitting great plumes of black smoke. But no, something about this view chilled him to this spine. Craning his neck from his vantage point he could swear there was a small speck in the distance.
What on great Ix is that?
All of a sudden realisation hit like a rock on a peaceful pond. Something was following him. Something unknown and cold was making its way to his location. He was certain it wasn't any of his guards, all guards permitted to serve under the royal summer home were Ixian of course. Physically bred for their strength and speed, and placed into roles of importance like protecting the higher caste such as himself. (Whereas this day being the only exception). It did look like he was the only Ixian that actually made it out of the palace so far. Ixians are able to cover short distances in phenomenal speed, akin to a scaly 4 legged beast of the hunt.
No this was something else.
Feeling a very small panic build up inside, but veiling that cold, unwanted terror as impatience at how far he still needs to travel yet. Lord La'Ix flexed his anterior legs and sped on leaving behind a red-yellow cloud of dust in his wake.
He frowned. Feeling strange at a never before felt sensation. Like something in the back of his perfectly designed brain was screaming a silent, but terrifyingly familiar warning.
"Ix itself is an ancient world. Temperate in climate, while abundant in vegetation and small game. It is unknown how the Ixian was formed on paradise.
The old priest can drum into your heads that I'Ix made us into being by indenting his form in the sand of the first beach and filling the shape with his life. Moulding us into being.
The heretic would counter and say we evolved from a previous species akin to ourselves over the course of untold lengths of time.
The philosopher would suggest that only on paradise would the sentient universe fill in the space for the perfect beings to enjoy the fruits of existence.
Lastly, even the lowest caste Ixian would point and laugh at the rest and say 'why talk about antiquity, when we can make more paradise to fill the heavens'."
-A popular Ixian parable
Lord La'Ix bolted up all of a sudden from his resting spot. Heart suddenly beating frantically. The stars had barely enough time to shift positions when last rested his weary body, only a couple hours must have passed since dusk fell and the world plunged into night.
The silence of the Savannah made sound from afar travel better. Aside from the quiet rustling of the wind he wasn't so sure what he heard. Assuming his bored ears were playing tricks on him.
Calming down, curling up on the flat cool rock he found he started to drift to the shadowless lands where all Ixian go when they dream...
Drums, no, not drums. Some sort of mechanical tool? Not that I ever heard of a tool that just beat the ground senseless. A strange beating sound could be heard, pounding into the ground. As he stayed frozen and very awake, he could have sworn it was getting louder. Closer.
CRACK. SNAP. CRACK.
Suddenly the entire valley echoed the sounds of a few broken sticks.
La'Ix jumped up, whirling around, and came to face something approaching fast that could only be described as a cold predator, not that there were any predators on the homeworld's recorded history. But every cell in his aching body reacted the same. DANGER, DANGER, RUN, RUN.
The silver light of the planet's 3 moons barely lit the valley but what that light bounced off of was a figure in motion. Front Legs pumping up and down, nostrils flaring, eyes too close together, and pupils so large it was like staring at darkness itself.
Hold on there are only 2 legs right? Sudden familiarity hit him hard, memories of last night's entertainment stained his mind. In the name of Ix is that a Terran?!?
La'Ix didn't realise it then, but it was looking at a Terran, despite the Terrans characteristics looking different to the standard slave he was used to seeing. The pumping body of the runner was made for such long distances. Sweat acting as a cooling mechanism, making the man glisten in the harsh moonlight, the enlarged nostrils taking in all the air the body needs for this type of strenuous activity. And the enlarged pupils, made for adjusting to low light environments.
Down on the plains of the Savannah were two creatures. One a perfect evolutionary miracle, practically evolution's first try gone right, Perfectly made for its environment and was never truly exposed to varying climates and environments. And the other, having crawled through the primordial ooze, and struggled and fought its way through dangers, diseases, and competition on its own horrifying world. Where deadly heat in deserts can dry out any living thing, and such freezing poles that can turn anything that enters it in pure ice.
The man's lean and sweat-slicken form was steadily making its way towards the frozen statue of La'Ix. Just as he got within 50 paces did La'Ix sprint away scattering pebbles in its path the echoes of which bounced back from the valley's sharp walls. Undeterred, the chaser kept steadily running. Jaws grit. Eyes locked on afar.
And afar was its prey. Sprinting away.
HOW IN IX'S NAME DID THAT THING KNOW WHERE I AM? The La'Ix in a fit of sudden excitement mixed with a heavy dose of panic, began its high octane sprint from the sudden looming threat of being found. Hind Legs propelling the creature's body forward, while its front arms, which were historically also for four legged locomotion, pulled the terrain closer with each stride. Increasing its momentum until it reached max speed.
"Broodling La'Ix!" said a stern but educated voice.
"Huh? Oh! Yessir!" a young Ix jumped to attention still thinking about more enjoyable things specifically outside of the classroom walls.
"Well? Can you please answer my question or will you make your other broodkin wait until Ix falls to ash first", the tutor said expectantly, prompting several muffles giggles in the room.
"Sorry sir. What makes the Ixian race its place in eternity is the attention we put in perfection. After our home-world of Ix's climate and terrain began to change, the leaders from antiquity decreed we carry on the spirit of the home-world in maintaining a consistent biological and genetic profile that will always be suited to Ix's surface. As we change worlds to be more like Ix, we can spread the spirit of Ix to them. As such, Change is- uh, change is..."
"Change is the poison of perfection, Remaining unchanged for Ix enable us to carry its spirit to other planets in the heavens", continued the tutor. "Well you certainly paid some attention to today's lesson at the very least. But remember that final part. It's the last of the core tenants you will need to remember."
"Yessir!"
A good half night passed on the surface of the Savanna. Where a previously noble and alert Ixian who took great care in appearances and status was no longer to be seen. Instead of that proud domineering alien representative of ix was a dishevelled, dusty, ragged creature, dehydrated, hungry, and exhausted from the various sprints it forced itself to endure to stay ahead of fate's ever closing hand.
Is this the sword of Damocles that was mentioned in the ancient Terran records? Always hanging down on those who hold power and seek more? Fate's sharp blade? But why me? I was never in any real power. All I wanted out of this life was a comfortable posting with no dirt and grime from the lower worlds. Why me? Why now? Why do I-
La'Ix snapped himself out of a daze. Is he here- No, no I should be far far away from that Terran now. Maybe I can find some-
A dim glow interrupted its train of thought. Much too early to be the Sunrise on the Emperor's summer planet, and much to low to be the light from one of it's 2 moons. It was a light from a town.
"That's right!" The Ixian barely managed to rasp in between haggard breaths. Its body barely able to continue the amount of self inflicted abuse it has suddenly been put in.
A lot more hunched over than the Ixian was earlier. It made its way towards a small town it knew was in between the palace and the harbour. The emperor loved his royal rustic towns and villages. It is said that his royal emperor would sometimes tour around them marvelling at the romantic theme of a simple rustic life. Although getting a personal town full of Ixians required a lot of lower caste be forced into long and expensive work contracts as background entertainers for the king's planet, all this excessive show of wealth was partially for peackocking the emperor's reputation, and partially for his own personal enjoyment. The Emperor is almost culturally required to flaunt his royal wealth in all forms in order to keep connections with all the royal houses. An emperor that doesn't shower their supporting aides and houses with grand gifts is fated to eventually be found cold on the floor of the royal banquet due to 'suicide from accidentally ingesting poison', as was the previous emperor.
To avoid such an unfortunate passing, the Higher Royals would trade vast resources, delicacies, and even exotic slaves to court 'royal favours'. Slaves of the Terran variety especially are considered to be the most unique of gifts the empire has ever acquired.
Terrans weren't necessarily large and bulky. Fighters were assigned to the Slave Obniraks. Powerful creatures used to fill the fields on tougher worlds where mechanical services would be deemed to expensive. The growth of a Obnirak into full working adulthood is only a few cycles. Meaning mass producing a workforce is quite an easy feat.
Terrans instead would take vast cycles to mature from a childling to an average adult. Meaning growing a slave force would take vast quantities of resources, immense patience, and strict guidance from their owners as to not create faulty creatures. All of which increases the general standing on any house that manages to keep a vast amount of Terran slaves in the best quality.
Terrans weren't necessarily docile and obedient. That role was perhaps given to the oldest slave race the Ix ever controlled. The Iralisa. It was known that they were made remarkably docile due to generations upon generations of select breeding, and pruning off the 'aggressive traits' from the gene pool. However, that led to the adverse effect of physically weakening them to a point where such docility and lack of a frame to keep up with their workload led to a general lack of Ixian interest and were subsequently purified.
Terrans are notoriously independent and herd-minded in larger quantities. Similar to growing a very stubborn Terulian Rose Vine. Which only looks impressive when great care have been given. Terrans need to be given an illusion of being ever so slightly free. Which typically involves owning vast amounts of land and nature to let them roam and graze. Of course, the only ones that can accommodate grand work forces of Terrans are the larger houses with the appropriate territory for humans, as is studied in the Ixian art of Servitude.
One can only guess which species is the Emperor's favourite.
The following town should indeed have both, low caste Ixians, and possibly none of the Emperor's favourite slaves.
The Ixian approached the glowing town. As it reached closer it straightened its back, upright on its hindlegs in the royal fashion. And proclaimed. "It is I! La'Ix, royal courtier. Lend me aid imme-"
Something is off. Not a single shadow in the town, I can see lights but no movement, where is every-
After turning the corner to the center of the small town, the dustied and weary creature froze in its tracks when it saw it. A pit nearly as wide as an Ixian land cruiser and who knows how deep filled with a stench so powerful it watered his eyes. Despite the Ixian's lack of a proper sense of smell. It knew the foul fetor of death.
The crudely dug pit was nearly overflowing when he approached it. Large, smoking, smouldering pyres cast that eerie light that had drawn him in.
"H-how? Wha-What the..." he trailed off when a local species of Laran boar growled and squealed as it tore a dead Ixian limb from the mountain of corpses.
"Who could've..."
He stopped. The shock of seeing his own kind laid like broken dolls in a bleeding pit slowly faded, replaced by a numbness. The Ixian had just noticed they were of Ix. Only of Ix.
Not a single terran colour was visible in the black and spotted pit of bodies. Not a single slave body was visible.
I-Impossible...
His legs gave way, either from the strain of the entire nights run, the horror facing him, or the threat from behind. He just dropped.
Minutes passed, or hours. It was hard to tell. But the Ixian lay slumped. Body unwilling to move further. Battered flesh unwilling to be propelled by a shattered spirit.
Mind slowly spinning up again. Thoughts began whirring to life in its mind. Could the rumours actually have been true? It had read the sparse reports of odd activity from certain Ixian-controlled worlds on the outer arms of the empire. Small uprisings of unknown origin. Hardly anything of note. If it had no affect on the greater houses then it was of no real concern to Ix and its emperor.
Could this threat have made its way to the centre arm already? Impossible. But what else could have done this to us?
Something caught the Ixian's eyes. In the middle of the pit it stood. A large stake, wet with deep Ixian crimson, dripping ever so slowly. Towering over the pit like a battlefield flag was a head of an Ixian rammed onto the tip of the spike. But the particular detail that caught the Ixian's eyes was a symbol cut into the flesh of the large forehead.
Looking from the outward-in. Eight concentric rings, which proceeded to get smaller and smaller in size until it reached a dark mass at the centre of the symbol. The Ixian never forgot the symbol and the affect it had on it.
Eight concentric rings, and a centre mass. Eight rings, and a mass. Eight- Eight what? Eight planets? And a star? ...
A growing pool of cold dread rose in its guts that made it shiver despite the fair night. This dread reflected the sharp reality on its frigid surface.
This Ixian was well-bred, well-trained, and well-educated. Although anyone with a basic education would know of such a pattern.
Terra and her sisters. THEIR star system...
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
It's not possible!-
Knowing what that sound meant, the Ixian tried to whirl around, its body barely being able to heed its masters commands. Just when it was starting to move again it felt it.
Sudden sharp agony. Sudden sharp, raging agony. The Ixian looked at it's hind leg. A sharpened wooden stake was jutting out of it.
It loud out a tight lipped scream, as it grasped the pulsating wound as one does immediately after an injury. It barely had enough time to look up at its attacker when the Terran bolted forward, shortening the distance between hunter and prey from metres to mere paces. The Ixian barely had enough time to block the hand grasping the knife as the arm flew forward at the last minute with a crash.
What phenomenal force!
Using the momentum from that sprint plus the wind up of his arm. The Terran was able to impart a phenomal show of force for a creature its size. That's when La'Ix for the first time saw a human in its raw unchanged form. Great beads of sweat collecting dust on its brow, to prevent it from entering the eyes. The constant release of sweat from the countless pores on its soft fleshy skin. Constant cooling? Even the visible veins and capillaries visible from the fire light.
What a beast of endurance-
Suddenly the horizon fell before the Ixian only to reveal the inky black sky dotted with pigments from stars like a painters masterpiece. When did I look up? Then a crash and blunt force from the ground.
The Ixian had been toppled over by that ferocious exchange of force.
Barely able to get up due to the wind being knocked out of its single large lung, the searing pain in its hind leg, and the exhaustion from the chase. It was too late. The terran was already on top of it. Taking up the entire view of the sky as the terran stepped forward into its field of vision.
The sudden perspective change made a once small and frail looking slave look grander than life, grander than all the legends told to Ixian broodlings.
The punches rained down. Repeatedly. A constant bombardment of beating rained like the drops of rain before the first dew. The previous pain in its leg forgotten, to invite a new visitor in the form of blunt force trauma. So ferocious were the raw blows to its carapace that the Ixian felt the exoskeleton crack under the increasing pressure and strain.
Something cracked, another thing snapped. The amount of pain too much to comprehend. The neurons firing in its second brain just assumed it was everywhere. Its half-working eye glimpsed the fist as it came down for the nth time. Red and split knuckles, revealing pure white bone beneath—a reinforced weapon. The perfect natural offence. All the muscles moved to propel it downwards where something else cracked and split.
Is this where I die?
As if understanding its fate the Ixian's form slumped over. Its body barely holding onto the natural exoskeleton shielding that covered its chest and facial area. Fluids leaking from the cracks that went too deep, and who knows how many internal ribs are shattered.
Its body, knowing that that more movement will cause more injuries, and further stimuli would confuse it further. It simply shut down.
The last moments it had as it fell backwards on its side. Was a small running figure. Hand clutching wooden spears. But the truly petrifying sight was behind it. A vast shadow flickering from the light of the lit pyres from the hunter in front of it. A shadow cast so large, jagged, and menacing it appeared to swallow the town whole.
And into a hole did the Ixian fall. A vacuum with no sensation or thought. Just darkness.
How... did we never notice such a... monster... in their... shadow...
All Ixians were taught about 'violence' and 'conflict' at an early age. As a sort of rite of passage that any of them would go through as they survive their early broodling days. As Ix have no natural predators, they had begun to instil a serving of some necessary conflict to keep their generations fresh and somewhat physically strong. As a precaution, only rudimentary forms of civil sports, races, shows of strength and courage were ever really explored. But always in a controlled and calm settings, as there would never be any true need for actual conflict.
As there was always a need to maintain ones own environment. The need never arose for the development of fighting techniques and schools of training. That was one of the best parts of being an Ix that many thought. Having supreme control over the worlds you inhabit means setting gravity, atmospheric pressure, humidity, and temperatures to the perfect levels for comfort replaced any need for biological change. Why grow when you can keep everything the same way, how you like it.
They were a vast empire. An empire of statues.
-Excerpt from the history of extra-solarian species, Author unknown
It awoke to a burning radiating heat from in front. The large sun was already starting to set on the horizon when it awoke. Had a whole day passed? Or two?
Trying to block the setting sun from its eyes it couldn't. "What?...", barely made out in a whisper.
I'm tied up.
And indeed the Ixian was right. Tied up next to a small brook, with a scorching fire in front of it. The monster nowhere to be seen.
"No good... it's too tight", it grunted in an attempt to escape its bindings.
Going slack in defeat it avoided any additional movement. Not having the energy to spare to move. It was lucky to have always been lazy at shedding its carapace - a frequent nag from its broodmother - might just have become its salvation in this case.
Thank Ix.
So there it stayed.
Hours passed. The Sun fully set and the stars awake in this dark world barely lit up the wildlands. Only the prisoner in this cone of firelight existed out here.
A rustling up ahead caught the prisoner's attention disturbing the eerily still silence of the Savannah night. And ungodly horror of a squeal ruptured the air invoking a deep visceral terror within the bound prisoner. Something. Something close but just outside the firelight was eyeing it, glinting from beyond the light. Those dark predatory eyes stabbed the prisoner with a sudden coldness. All while the squealing suddenly halted. SNAP. SQUELCH.
Now it came, emerging into the light. A beast. Holding a knife in one bloodied hand, dripping on the dirt. And dragging by the leg, a massive adult Laran boar grotesquely smearing thick blood still warm from the cut in the neck on the dirt.
The prisoner watched, barely moving, barely breathing. Frozen with the horror in front of it as the bloodied carcass was skinned; fur sliced away with harsh, scraping sounds with the crude knife. Spurting remaining blood all over the site.
The pink naked flesh then washed in the brook, leaving a distinct smell of oxidised blood in the air, before being skewered and roasted over the roaring flames. Fat popping violently in the heat.
In this gruesome display, the beast revealed not just a fate for the boar, but a dark hint of what might come. The realisation struck deep—this could be more than just a demonstration; it was a terrifying preview of its own potential end.
It passed out again.
Only to be awoken by the haunting echoes of a wild, desperate squeal that once thrummed through the savannah's eerie silence. Dare it open its eyes?
After a great heavy effort -utilizing its every last drop of courage- one eye cracked open. And what it saw. Made it regret ever having done so.
Right across from it, the hunter was a grotesque silhouette against the flickering fire. Grasping a severed boar leg was a mouth viciously biting, ripping, tearing into the flesh with primal ferocity. Each bite was deliberate, each tear of sinew was a clear, calculated demonstration of supreme savagery. Its jaw muscles bulged with the force of a bite.
All the while, the eyes—deep, abyssal pits—fixed intently on the prisoner. Deepest black pits stared back at it. Watching. Observing. Calculating, with a dark intelligence. it was calculating. It was relishing the terror it inspired and the control it exerted. Or planning its next meal.
The sounds of ripping flesh filled the thick, blood-soaked air. Deep into the night. Deep into this never-ending nightmare.
Never once did the prisoner move. Not an iota. Frozen in abject horror.
The night passed quietly. After the feast the human had, or the desecration of life that the prisoner saw, whichever way you look at it. The human nodded off to sleep. Content in the success of his mission. But the tied up creature had no such rest. Sending silent pleas to the stars that it might be saved. But not daring to make a sound, less it awaken that sleeping horror. Or was it sleeping? Dear Ix, it might be watching me. Feigning sleep to keep an eye on its meal. Dear Ix I'm next...
All through the night, the demons plagued its mind. Until the warmth of the morning rose, and with it the sound of an Ixian cruiser.
Elation could not be an understatement for the tired, tied, beat, and bruised thing. Craning its neck to the direction of the sound about to bellow out an Ixian warning to the demon resting next it.
"BE CAREFUL! THERE'S ONE HERE-". It stopped speaking. That previous elation it felt at a saviour arriving to rescue it from the demons grasp, fizzled out like a drop of water in a drought.
That all so familiar cold remained. And the dryness of despair. As pairs of dark pupils shot back at it.
On the cruiser were tall adult Terrans. Clean cut, well fed, well dressed Terrans. Four, no Six, no eight of them. All hanging onto the side of cruiser while it made its way to their location. Compared to the demon waking up beside it, these creatures were organised. A savageness neatly packaged in a uniform with a symbol. The prisoners eyes grew wide in its sunken sockets. 8 rings, and a centre mass. They must be the cause of, well all this.
Accepting fate, its head fell in part defiance, in part to avoid the stinging eyes of these others. It felt their gaze burn through—cold, cruel, calculating. There is nothing I can do any longer.
"You're finally here. What took you so long?" The runner said to his approaching comrades, "Took all night to catch up to him."
"Hey Jan, great work", the tall militant woman shot back. With a playful punch to his arm. "Guess all that cardio really paid off, didn't I tell you it would!" She let out a playful guffaw.
"Thanks Chel", replied Jan.
"Ok chop chop people, we're on a schedule. We need to reach the port ASAP remember? Come on Jan, rest up all you like, you're still on the clock."
"Aye sir." Jan shot back in a mock salute, gaining a sneer from the commandant, then a sneaky smile.
"Don't forget your trash. And make sure its breathing still."
It creaked open its eyes, seeing pairs of boots moving towards it and standing in front. In silence. Then all of a sudden, felt pairs and pairs of hands pull and tug. and lift it up The thing let out a pathetic silent sob. While it was loaded in the back of the cruiser, face up. Staring at eyes, piercing black dots peering back. It could never understand what was being felt by those eyes and those faces.
Ixians wear their emotions on their carapace; spots and stripes would slowly appear in certain parts, representing emotions and feeling that their bodies felt in a general sense. But the most private thoughts were of course, still kept private.
But this. This was just too foreign. The eyes never stopped. Even in the swaying movement of the cruiser the pupils never broke contact. Those eyes. As if it was peering into it, envelops your entire mind. There was no way to hide, even hiding in his inner self would do no good. Those eyes. Those predator eyes can find me anywhere I try to escape to. Inside and out.
Some times passes.
"You know. I lost good friends to the royal caste. Especially to this one's brood clan or whatever they like to call it." One of them was looking right at it when they said it. It turned its eyes over to the source. A short one, with a slave scar on the neck said it. A scar that shot through his memories. A scar inflicted to property owned by, his brood. This one is dangerous..., it thought.
Jan, and the others didn't look but felt it. The cold darkness in that tone made it clear what it intended to do.
The female militant, Chel, I think her name was. Slowly reached to the side arm on her holster. Sensing the oncoming problem.
"You still understand me don't you? I've had to watch good people die. Damn good people." The scarred one one stood, grabbing the upper rail of the cruiser to steady themselves. "I hear that even if you get ill, you become the entertainment for the night. What was it now?" She paused for a brief second. "Oh I remember".
"Stil" Chel said slowly. "Cool it". Hand still on the butt of the sidearm.
Not hearing or not wanting to reply. Stil continued. "Torn apart by those raptor pets. Hands or feet cut off as souvenirs for those fucked-up parties and those fucked-up guests. Oh yea, and the 'toy play' or whatever they call it. Can't have Ken and Barbie fight back now, can we?"
Stil leaned closer to the now cowering, shaking thing, "I wonder which one was your favourite." The words cut through La'Ix like an icicle. This was the first time these demons actually spoke to it directly. And it didn't like it. It could sense the venom from the words.
"Stil..." Chel slowly got up, hand still at the ready. "I said cool it." The line had a steely warning to it. Chel wouldn't risk the mission. Even if it meant doing what must be done.
Agonizing seconds passed. The cowering, shaking thing seemed to grow whiter and whiter by the second, It's spots clearly showing what it felt. Staring up, Not willing to move but being unable to hide. It felt the absolute crushing weight of the present. Grinding it down to a paste.
Everyone stayed still. The two militants didn't move. The rest didn't seem to even have paid attention to the converstation, still looked away.
Longer passed.
Stil smiled, "Oh come on Chel, you know I wouldn't do anything to our friend here? You know I was just playing around." Stil laughed. Chel didn't react.
Stil immediately crouched, faced the shaking prisoner inches apart eye to eye, and in a whisper said "Right friend?"
She wants me to reply? Dear Ix I can't even think with those eyes in front of me What do I do?! What do I say?!
"Right. Friend?" Stil repeated slower and colder. Like the blade of a surgeon hovering over skin, ready to plunge.
The gears of its Ixian brain grinded to a screeching halt. In utter desperation to find a reply it simply gave up. Instead, it felt a warmth slowly spread. Slowly spread between its hind legs. It had released its bladder.
"BAHAHAHAHA LOOK AT IT" Stil roared in laughter. The sound of it rattling the prisoners brain with the sound. Disorienting its senses. "NOW THAT'S CLASSIC TIMING IF I'VE EVER SEEN IT!" She plopped back down face red and still laughing.
The Ixian didn't know what to do but tremble and sob silently on the cold surface of the cruiser surrounded by laughter. and the warmth of its piss. It tried to plug its ears. But the sound still came. Laughter. Laughter. Laughter. Dear Ix, what are these demons... where are they taking me? To hell?...
The cruiser kept cruising. Towards the port across the island. Trailing laughter behind. Or to the sobbing wreck of a thing, demonic cackling.
The scent of familiarity wafted into the senses of the prisoner as the cruiser started to slow. The smell of the salt, the chirping of familiar aviaries. Sound of the crash of sea. The port.
Braving a sentence for the first time in for what seems eternity. It let out a question "...w..w..where ... why... are... ... we ...h... here?" It managed to say shakily, eyes downcast.
As if in response, a sharp shove greeted it from the back and a hard hit on the ground was as much of an answer it was getting.
"Move it", Jan said gruffly.
They walked. the ixian still bound but free to walk in the middle of the group of humans. Towards a destination still not known. The walk twisted, and turned, and twisted again. One thing struck out to the prisoner. It was too clean, especially for what it was expecting, it's last experience being in the previous blood-soaked town laden with bodies and carrion eaters.
The port town was completely silent, free from the regular hustle and bustle it usually had even when the emperor was not present. And superbly clean. Not a single piece of dirt to be seen. Not a single Ixian either. Where did everyone go? Did they make it out somehow when these invaders came?
In the background, the surf broke relentlessly.
Piercing eyes caught the prisoners glance, as it wandered curiously around the town. Realising its mistake La'Ix tried to look away but the burning gaze gripped his own.
As if reading its soul. The human answered the hidden question bubbling up in La'Ix. "You should've seen them your royal majesty". The one called Stil said while bending in mocking courtesy.
The surf pounded the shore even more loudly now.
"They don't swim well. Especially the young ones. They dropped like stones. Turning all white by the time they stopped moving."
Louder now. The sea roared.
Nothing came. Not a thought in La'Ix's mind. Its mind struggled to comprehend the depth of what was said by Stil, the scarred human.
The waves boomed louder now. Louder than the sun, echoing louder than the screams of all the Ixians that must have perished.
It saw the lips of the standing-devil in front of it. But all the came from its blood red lips were obscured by the sound of the pounding of the waves. The echoes of drowned kin, thudding and slapping against the shore, merged with the relentless surf in La'Ix's mind.
This is for our sins.
Wave after wave, the relentless surge continued, each one a haunting reminder of the souls lost to the sea, each crash a ghostly thud of bodies hitting the shore.
Very slowly did some exhausted neuron in the Ixian's head come to a conclusion as to how these creatures in front of it can be so relentless, so cruel, and so evil. When pushed to beyond its breaking point, did their true carnivorous instincts rear their ugly head.
Oh dear Ix. What sort of environment could breed such demons?
La'Ix didn't remember what happened next. The memories feel like a distant dream now as he sits watching the port sky now.
The aching brand on his forehead of the 8 ringed system, pulsed in pain—a departing gift from his newly made friends, stung from the salty sea air.
He barely recalls the staggered walk from the empty inter-arm transmission office and the inputting of his biometric royal seal. He barely even remembers the message that was sent under his name and signature
And even less does he remember what he heard what will happen next.
All alone now, he stares at the sky of the empty port town. As he watches more royal ships enter the atmosphere.
He gazes upward, thoughtlessly, statue-like Knowing fate will come for them all. Fate in the form of piercing black eyes and a monster so large it can fit in a shadow.
A single thought, carried its way from above the despair to the surface. Slowly. Like a bubble in a pool of tar.
What was I meant to tell the emperor again?

I've recently gone back to work from Mat leave and one of the high rank TLs asked me to remind him of my son's name, he tried guessing a Spanish sounding name (as we both are), but we actually gave him a nordic name that's spelled the same in many languages, including Spanish.
So a lot of people have reacted with a surprised sound but this one actually told oh that's a really unusual name, the name we gave him is not rare, think of something like Magnus (not his real name, but that one was on the mix and very cool), so I asked him point blank, oh why do you think it's so unusual. and he was visibly uncomfortable and said oh I didn't think someone with your names would have a baby with an english name, and I said it's actually nordic, but I didn't think there was a restriction.
so, there was a bit of an awkward silence and now I think he can't look me in the eye.
Should I have gone with my usual answer of, we really liked this name and leave it like that?

What does becoming a teacher mean to me?
It means adulthood. What is adulthood? Adulthood is living in a house, or an apartment or away from one's family of origin. Yes, I know some races of persons live in extended families. For me, adulthood means living elsewhere. Teaching to me means the ability to get this for myself.
Adulthood means land. I want to eventually have control over the food I eat. I want to grow my own vegetables, my own fruits without pesticides and other strange chemicals. Adulthood means the ability for me to have my own land.
Adulthood means a car. It means not making multiple trips to and fro places. It means not burning up in the hot, hot sun. It means not being tired physically carrying myself to so many places. It means comfort, driving, cool air, not being exposed to the rain, or having to ride with persons who may make me uncomfortable with their sexually suggestive banter. Adulthood means the ability for me to get a car.
Adulthood means a career. It means having something to do on a weekly basis. It means having the protections of a career, namely access to things - possible loans among others. Adulthood means having the chance to have a career.
Adulthood means having a salary. Having a salary means having the ability to move around in the world. In many a place, women are held back from moving about in the world. Women are oftentimes tied to a man. They are prevented from having their own money. Their energies are allocated to child rearing, caring for a home, caring for elders. I realize how fortunate I am that I have had access to higher education, to indeed have a career. Adulthood means the ability to have a career.
Adulthood means savings. Savings means security. It means being able to afford one's needs, emergency or not. Savings means enjoyment, comfort. Adulthood would mean I could get a chance to have savings.
Adulthood means strong relationships. Or rather, different ones. It means navigating life with coworkers, hobby friends, relatives, your own parents as an adult. It means changing dynamics. Adulthood would afford me the ability to have strong relationships.
Teaching means adulthood. Adulthood is good. It means leaving the private market, and entering the safety and comfort of the public market. It means leaving independent contracting work in favor of salary. It means taking my place in society, as a worker, and having a title. It means being a woman. I am biologically a woman. But now, I'd be more of a woman, a self-sufficient woman.
Teaching means having little luxuries, my creature comforts. It means a stove, a refrigerator, a washer dryer combo in my own place. It means controlling who is around me, and that I can choose to leave when I wish. Teaching means health, that I can have a varied diet. It means maintenance, that I can look my best, and engage the services of beauty professionals to get my nails done, my hair done, my makeup done, and buy more high-quality, in style clothing.
Teaching means hobbies. It means stability in my work schedule, so that I can do other things in the off times. This can mean starting a business, having a hobby, hanging out with others, or just catching up on some sleep. Teaching may mean travel abroad. It may mean stamps in my passport, a visa or two. Teaching means general enjoyment. That's what it means to me.
I find the gatekeeping of long-term, well-paying employment wicked. Yes, I know persons must specialize, take their trainings to perform their jobs well. But when you have persons willing and able to do a job, why prevent them from doing so? It doesn't make sense I think.
This is a momentous occasion. I'm getting ready to take a place in life. This sets the stage for many more things. What shall I do to commemorate the occasion? Well, I'm writing this post, so that's one thing. I want to dress up and take myself somewhere when I get my first salary. Secretary, put that on the books. One outing with me well done up when I first get paid, okay?
Life is good. Me moving into this new stage means that I would have learned enough to get me here. I have learned a lot, truly. I learned about men, and dating. I learned about people, friends, not so friends. I've learned about me, what I want, what I do not want, the kind of life I want to life, and what others expect of me. I've learned about reasonable expectations, and what it means to be an adult living with other adults. I've learned about security, and investment, romantic investment, what it looks like, and what it does not look like. I've learned to choose me, but make allowances for others. I've learned about others. I've learned that it's not always only about me, that I don't exist in a vacuum, and that my life is not only my own.
I've learned that there is so much to explore with me. I think I know me, but this new stage is going to make me grow more, and be more me.
So that's what teaching means to me. I'm sure it will mean a lot more, like getting to show off my skills, and getting to educate a generation. I'm sure it'll mean other things like routine, and monotony, trudging through the day for the sake of supporting myself. But I'm ready. I know the material. I've done this before. Things will go well. Others have done it. And now is my turn. It's my turn. It's my turn. It's. My. Turn.
I don't have to fight anyone for it. It's my turn. I don't have to beg anyone for it. It's my turn. I don't have to steal it. It's my turn. I don't have to pay for it. I believe I've already paid a lot. Also, It's. My. Turn. It's my turn to enjoy myself. It's my turn to advance, and get my master's degree, and get my doctorate. Let me change my name a bit, yeah? I've done the work. I've put in my time. I haven't promised to support anyone financially. I haven't sired any children that I must care for. I'm not cheating anyone by not working and expecting payment. I'm just here, signing up for work, preparing myself as best I can, and waiting my turn, just like everyone else.
I come wanting to work. I come wanting to do good work. I come wanting to cooperate. I come ready. It is time. It is my time. Let's do this.
On we go.

Looking to trade out some extra models to complete my other collections and sell off the rest.
Pics: https://imgur.com/a/trade-post-4-27-24-MJr8gvJ
===HAVE===
==40K==
-Knights-
1x Armiger / Wardog (painted & based)
1x Knight Paladin / medium knight (painted)
==Age of Sigmar / Warhammer Fantasy / Old World==
Priest of Ulric on steed (NiB)
–Nighthaunt–
7x Grimghast Reapers (primed)
15x Chainrasp Horde (painted)
--Stormcast Eternals--
Lord-Imperatant w/ Gryph-hound
Knight-Arcanum
Knight-Vexillor with Banner of Apotheosis
3x Praetors
3x Annihilators
20x Vindictors
–Slaanesh–
5x Hellstriders (primed)
–Orruk Warclans / Kruleboyz / Iron Jawz–
Killaboss on Great Gnashtoof
3x Gore-gruntas (assembled & partial paint)
Murknob with Belcha-banna
5x ‘Ard Boyz (assembled & partial paint)
3x Man-skewer Boltboyz
20x Gutrippaz
15x Hobgrot Slittaz
==Privateer Press==
–Mini Crate– All new in box
Gor-10 (Gorten Grundback)
Wolf with No Name
Allegiant Prize Fighter (Allegiant order of the Fist)
Admiral Carver (Carver 1)
00 di Bray (Anastasia di Bray)
Lil’ Fenris (Fenris on foot)
Fiona from the Black Lagoon (Fiona the Black)
Gunslinger Garryth (Garryth 1)
Medusomia (Absylonia 1)
Drake ‘Kilt Lifter’ McBain
–Legion of Everblight– Fully painted & based
Belphegor
Annyssa Ryvaal
–Cryx–
Lichlord Venethrax (painted)
Asphyxious 3, missing banner (bare metal)
Master Necrotech Mortenebra & Deryliss (missing arms)
Aikos 0 (bare metal)
Skarlock Thrall (partially painted)
3x Bane riders (unpainted)
Bane Lord Tartarus (painted)
Deathripper (plastic)
6 Revenant Crew - Painted
3 Revenant Crew Weapon Attachments - Bare
--Mercenaries & Minions–
Morghul 1
3x Accretion Servitors
Merc Tokens
15x Nyss Hunters
2x Ragman
Rhupert
Gorman 1
2x Eyriss 1
Eyriss 2
Sylyss
3x Corbeau
2x Swamp Gobbers
Alten Ashley
Victor Pendrake
Lanyssa Ryssyl
Orin Midwinter
Hutchuk
Lynus & Edrea
Thor Steinhammer
Hermit of Henge Hold
–Retribution of Scyrah–
Vyros 1
Garryth 1
Ossyan 1
Rahn 1
Hyperion
Chimera
3x Griffon
Phoenix
Hydra
Manticore
Houseguard Thane
Hermit of Hengehold
Scythe- Riot Quest
3x Arcanist Mechanik
Elara 1I looked
3x Ghost Sniper
5x Soulless Escort
Sylys Wyshnalyrr
2x House Shyeel Magister
House Shyeel Artificer
Lanyssa Ryssyl, Nyss Sorceress
Lys Healer
Eiryss 1
Eiryss 2
12x House Shyeel Battle Mages
10x Dawnguard Sentinels
10x Dawnguard Invictor
20x Houseguard Halberdiers
Banner & officer
10x Houseguard Riflemen
10x Mage Hunter Strike Force
Officer
8x Stormfall Archers
===WANT===
$$$ Cash, make an offer on any of the above warmachine and hordes and we can work something out.
==40K==
–Chaos–
Chaos rhino
Plague Marines (no bolter marines)
--Chaos Daemons–-
Bloodthirster (NiB or NoS)
Skull Cannon / Blood Throne
Burning Chariot
-–Age of Sigmar / Fantasy / Old World–-
I need cool looking models for D&D!
Humans / Cities of Sigmar / Stormcast Eternals
Elves / Lumineth / Sylvaneth / Khaine
Dwarves / Kharadron / Fyreslayers
Lizardmen / Seraphon
Goblins / Gitz
Orcs / Orruk
Cool monsters
-Other-
Potentially other 40k or AoS lots for the Warmachine & Hordes models.
D&D 5e books
Board games
Magic the Gathering cards

i think it's going to be the Grizzco Roller, as there is a weapon in the game's files named "Roller_Bear" (along with ashbinary's (not sure about that) datamine with the new brella, dualie, stringer and splatana. im guessing the other grizzco weapons have the suffix "_Bear" attached to them as well.) i also think that the grizzco weapons do something really strong, but also interesting and unique at the same time, while making reasonable yet also non-demeaning and unique as well weaknesses. the thing about the other grizzco weapons, is that they all have unique weaknesses and strengths that make the weapon in the first place, grizzco weapons just flip it around, make a new unique spin on them. (i.e. dualies's rolls aren't necessarily the main part and most powerful part around the weapon, it just shares the spotlight with the power of having two nozzles, and the nozzles merging and the firing rate increasing. the two main parts work together with the weapon. However, grizzco dualies instead make the dodge rolls the main attraction and the shooting, instead of sharing the spotlight, actually becomes one of its weaknesses AND strengths, with the speed becoming a bit faster, while the range decreases by tenfold compared to the weapon it's based on. again, however, while the dodge rolls become the weapons main strength, it also becomes a weakness as well. due to their fast speed and 9 rolls per, falling off is almost inevitable in a stressful environment, and trust me, stressful environments are abundant in salmon run. The main point is, grizzco weapons build upon already existing strengths and weaknesses, as well as changing things around and introducing new and crazy ideas. they make weaknesses alongside immense strengths to create a fully interesting and unique new weapon. they prove just by existing that weaknesses are interesting too. But, the thing about shooters and splatlings and even brushes, is that they dont really have a lot of diversity in strengths and weaknesses. not to say this is bad, or that these weapons are good at everything, but rather dont really bring any new "weaknesses" that arent just stuff that could be improved upon. you can change ink consumption a lot easier without removing what makes the weapon that weapon, than if you took away the grizzco dualies dodge roll size. improving a weapon is easy. giving it weaknesses that give it fair (for its other op qualities), yet interesting handicaps is harder. thats why i like grizzco weapons in the first place. it makes them interesting in all ways. this applies for other things too; like magic systems or superpowers. So when you try to make grizzco weapons the same way you made other, more "deep" or complicated weapons with weapons that don't have that sort of thing, you just get... overpowered weapons. side order floor 30 weapons. (which aren't bad, there are tons of interesting color chips, just not for grizzco specifically) i just think it would be quite difficult to make a shooter interesting without only upgrading its firerate and ink consumption. not really impossible, you could make a boosted aerospray with barely any range, but massive damage and spread. But considering we might not even get another season after this upcoming one, for me it's without a doubt that I'd rather have a more interesting grizzco weapon, like the roller.
TLDR, grizzco weapons are more interesting with unique handicaps, and while other weapons (brushes, splatlings, shooters) could be great for grizzco weapons, with the coming end of content, I'd MUCH rather something like a roller, and i think it would fit a lot better with the other overpowered, but also interestingly weakened weapons that make grizzco weapons grizzco weapons. Anyway, i have an idea for or grizzco roller, as that's what this about, and I've been yapping for like 3-4 paragraphs.
The grizzco roller would be basically like a extreme dynamo, with even WORSE ink consumption, very slow speed, but a GIANT, heavy hit. there was somebody on youtube who made some grizzco weapon concepts with the remaining weapons, and one of them was the grizzco roller. the concept was basically a super dynamo, but with two rollers that connect together at the ends to make a giant sized vertical and horizontal flick. i think that this is a really cool idea, and if there was a grizzco roller, I'd want this literal and figurative addition. another strength that it could have would be its devastating roll, which, I'm not sure how much damage exactly it would do, but "a lot" comes to mind. it would have a really wide roll, but it would be quite slow in speed in exchange. thanks for reading!