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Memory Transcription Subject: Hileen, Krakotl Fugitive Recovery Agent
Date [standardized human time]: November 28th, 2136
It'd been a while since I sat in Marlig's office for a talk face-to-face. Given the agency's secluded location at the edge of the downtown region, it was a chore to drop by when it wasn't for business, but I'd deemed the matter at hand to be worth my time.
I passed by Nampi at her desk on my way to the door and she gave me a coy glare as I carried on. Trying to ignore her risible ear waggle, I turned the corner to the door with my boss’s name painted on the glass panel where I could hear the frantic crumpling of paper.
Quietly, I entered Marlig's office without prompt as I knew he hated to be spooked by knocking. My mentor was surprisingly spry for a bird at his age, sorting through papers with one wing and an eye while using his talons with the other to set away the papers he had splayed out.
“Hileen!” he chirped. “Glad you could make it in today. I was just finishing up my paperwork. Take a seat.”
It was always nice to hear him drop the professional motif for a more grandfatherly attitude when speaking in person. I did as he suggested and took a seat while he grumbled to himself over the sorting. My eye caught a few of the old contracts he was rifling through and saw that some dated back to his days as an agent.
Eventually, he left some sitting out as he sequestered the rest back into their files, sorted by a dichotomy that only he and Nampi could comprehend fully. He motioned with a wing for me to peruse and I turned the first one to face me to find it was my first contract, signed by me in a sloppy fashion. “This takes me back a couple of years.”
“Slick bastard thought he could get away on a forklift but you showed him! Certainly more exciting than my first day!”
“Mm-hmm. And it was when I nearly got impaled that you had the idea to commission all of us utility vests.”
He chuckled, “I really should’ve done so sooner. Cuts and scratches were already a risk, but a forklift was a new one!”
I flipped through the pages of each report, finding that Marlig's notes were filled with praises of my work. There were highs and lows, but I was flattered to find that the grizzled krakotl held my performance in such high regard.
“Flawless interception!” read one footnote about me catching a runner. “Couldn't have done it better myself!”
Marlig waited patiently as I browsed quickly through each page, realizing more and more how the notes also marked improvements in my work. How I found it easier to talk down a rowdy client, or apprehend them in the case that they were beyond helping on my part. Flowery language plastered most pages with him fawning over my work as a doting father would to his prodigal child.
The trend took a sharp turn as the notes became fewer and more critical the closer the dates reached to the present. I brushed the others aside with a wing to peruse the final paper. “And this…”
“Is Tac. Your latest contract. The most recent in a line of declining performance since the interview. This has become a pattern, Hileen, and its consequences are beginning to reach beyond yourself. Paji and Vesek resigned recently for personal reasons, which leaves us even less hands on deck than before. That's four people to cover the entire municipal region, and maybe even beyond, should needs arise. Three, if we include this little probation I have you on.”
“What was I supposed to do? Marlig, these ‘jobs’ you've got us working on overstep the contracts we were signed on with. Our job is to make sure people obey their court-mandated duties, not drag them off to the facilities ourselves!”
“... So the trip we took to the facilities did bother you.”
A sigh clicked in my throat as he reminded me. “Is that what happens to the people we take in, Marlig? Is that what would've happened to your wife?”
His feathers ruffled.
“That's what happens to those who are too dangerous to the general public to be left roaming free. Not everyone we deal with winds up there, but everyone can be subject to it. Miskela sued for her exoneration and proved in court that she was not diseased. I brought you there to show you how it helps the people, but I see now that it was a mistake. I understand why you were so perturbed, really, but it's how things have been for centuries. It's how we've protected ourselves from the dangers out there.”
“You were willing to let Barsul be interned there, too.”
Marlig flinched and sighed as he swept the papers towards himself once I'd signaled I was done. He turned one eye to me while he sorted them.
“There's no room for favoritism, girl. I negotiated for him to be allowed to walk free, and look where that got me. That boy - your neighbor - suffered the consequences of my nepotism. So too would the girl, had nobody intervened.”
“Like Richard.”
“The human, yes. Or you. Or the police. Where does this sudden obsession with humans come from, anyway? I get notifications of you talking about the acceptance of them all the time on forums.”
“Does it even need explaining?”
“Well, I guess not, no, but it's certainly an about-face from the way you used to talk about them with me beforehand.”
“People can change, for better or worse. Which one I fall under remains to be seen.”
Marlig stroked at the plumage on his neck as he finished his sorting. “I hope it's the former, for your sake. Was there any reason you came to talk, or were you just checking that I hadn't gone senile?”
“Well, I was hoping to borrow your secretary for the evening.”
He perked up while his eyes narrowed and he laced his fingers together with curiosity. “You… want to spend an evening with Nampi?”
“It's not what you're insinuating, but yes.”
“I was insinuating nothing,” he warbled coyly. “Go ahead and take her, and make sure to split the bill at dinner.”
“Pain-in-the-ass geezer. I'll keep in touch if your friend causes any more trouble.”
“Keep in touch regardless. Miskela and I get lonely in our old age,” he called back. “Take care.”
I stepped out into the hallway and turned toward the desk where I could hear the secretary's claws tapping furtively at her keyboard. Nampi sat silently with her ears and tail in a relaxed position that implied a bored demeanor. There was barely any response as I stood before her, waiting politely for her acknowledgment that never came.
Hesitantly, I cleared my throat.
An ear raised in acknowledgement, but her focus remained on the screen of her computer. “Mhm?”
“Do you…?”
Her ear rotated toward me, though she still maintained a passive attitude as she continued to glare mindlessly at the monitor.
“Are you free this evening?”
“Well, I'm quite booked, I believe. Why do you ask?”
I was surprised at her curt, dry tone. She hadn't spoken with me like this since we first got to know one another.
“Well,” I started. “I realized something. Every time we went out, whether it was clubbing, or dinner, or even walking around the parks, you always footed the bill. And so…”
Slowly, her other ear perked up and I saw her keystrokes slow down as she listened in.
“I wanted to return the favor?”
Her lips smacked as she opened her mouth, though paused before she spoke. “How could you possibly do that?”
“With a little gesture of friendship.”
Nampi's horizontal pupil turned up toward me and her tail twitched.
I continued, “So that belt you're wearing? It's the same belt you've worn since we first met. And I know you're the pragmatic type who'd never spend a credit more than she needs to, except for all the times you do"- her ears twitched in indignance -"I wanted to see about getting you a little something… extra?”
Her paws raised from the keyboard and she leaned in, resting her snout on her palms. “Go on.”
The bubbly venlil's tail sold out her collected facade as it twitched with anticipation. She was cornered and she didn't even know it yet.
“Well, I found just the place on the other side of town where we can start. It's a place almost as rich and indulgent as yourself.”
“The Platinum Paw? I mean3”
Her ears folded back in embarrassment as she cracked. She wasn't cut out for acting anyway.
“So that's what it's called! Jeez, I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was called. Now what do you say? We go over there and find you something nice—”
I hadn’t even finished my thought before Nampi had grabbed her bag and was out the door, giving me a playful tail flick that said come and get me.

The place I suggested was in a shopping center on the opposite side of town, though easily accessible because of its proximity to the transport rails. Nampi had insisted on grabbing something to eat beforehand and so now gleefully bit into a bundle of stalks that had been “grilled” as explained from the food truck we'd stopped at.
Her tail flicked back and forth with her usual enthusiasm as we entered the massive complex of stores. The roofless plan allowed the natural, orange sun to flood the upper levels while artificial lighting illuminated the ground level wherever the light couldn't reach.
The place was built in the last decade by the previous City Magister in a bid for popularity, though ultimately for naught as he would lose the vote following a scandal involving an iftali priestess and a carved bar of soap. I had to say that despite being sick in the head, he sure had a great sense of decor.
Nampi snacked away, joining me in admiring the scenery as we continued to the place I’d planned out for us. Aimless chatter all melded together into a single, thrumming murmur as pedestrians navigated the many levels and stores offered in the place.
A troupe of children passed by us, held in a chain of tails and arms as they were escorted by a pair of venlil who I assumed were students and teachers on a school trip. I caught a whiff of a sweet, aromatic breeze and found it to come from a perfume shop on the same level as us; naturally, venlil were not to be found inside.
We passed a fountain where a couple sat on the edge, their tails twined together as they giggled and flirted. I turned and caught Nampi watching them as well, though she awkwardly returned to sucking the remains of her meal from her claws when we made eye contact. Her ears lifted when I raised a wing to signal to the store we were going to stop at first.
“Platinum Paw, The Greatest Fashion Emporium For Everyone!”
The title alone was painfully cliche, taken to the tenth power by the brightly lit store taking up three department slots. Despite the flashy exterior, though, it was the best place to shop for belts, brooches, and bracelets alike. Customers who looked like they earned my yearly salary in a week browsed the higher end brands while I brought my friend to the section I wanted to show her.
Her ears were held up as we stood together next to a shelf chock full of fashionable bags and bandoliers of every variety.
“Pick one,” I told her.
Nampi's ears shot to a straight pose in surprise, “Any?”
“Within reason. I've got a few extra credits to blow and I know nobody better to spend it on.”
With an inviting headtilt, I let Nampi peruse the shelves at her leisure. Her lips pursed together and her tail flicked with glee as she fingered at every piece that caught her eye. I chuckled at her outburst of enthusiasm while turning to find my own items to gloss over.
A breeze from outside nipped at my beak while I considered what I’d like to purchase. The place dripped with an atmosphere of faux hospitality, from the bright blue-stained floorboards to the radio prattling off advertisements in a sickeningly sweet tone to the faint, fruity aroma of scented cleaner. It was oppressive as only a fissan-owned company could be to the senses.
What I wouldn’t pay to see how a human would fare in such an environment.
I knew they were social creatures at least, but I had no doubt that the predatory senses of a human, so honed to hunting, would get overstimulated in this center of gaudy indulgence. Knowing I was something of a predator myself made me sympathize provided that even I had to squint to keep the pale lights inside from searing my eyes. I could only imagine how the arboreal eyes of a Terran would fare. I was so lost in thought imagining how lost the Terrans would be that I could almost ignore the obnoxious giggling and metallic rattling coming from behind me.
Risking a peek at the source, into my sight came a pair of venlil, one a male carrying a pair of bags as well as a couple more strapped to his belt. The bored expression in his eyes was not one of a man who was in high spirits. The other venlil was a woman who was the source of the noise.
Her mottled gray pelt was accented by a tasteful belt design, free of almost any practical functions but not flashy or excessive in garnishment either. At least, that’s what I would say, were it not for the braid of beads that dangled on the belt, jingling with each bounce of the lively woman’s stride. It was clear that such a gaudy accessory was intended to draw attention to her, though why was a mystery. Certainly, the shiny braids seemed designed as decoration first and practical second.
She turned about and I faced back to my browsing before she could catch me staring. Nampi was nowhere in sight, though I figured she was somewhere behind the shelf, sifting through every accessory on the section I'd suggested.
Clink.
Something pelted to my immediate right. I tilted my head to spot a tree nut shell clattering to the floor. Without being able to guess where it came from, I had to wonder what could've launched it over this way. Even with my keen eyesight, nobody in the crowd seemed to be a suspect.
Clink.
Another shell pelted my vicinity, ricocheting off of the floor and hitting the shelf I was standing next to. I ruffled my feathers in frustration - clearly, someone was trying to get my attention, though I couldn't make out who it was. Out of the corner of my vision, the woman from before eyed me curiously as I looked about, though I wasn't interested in engaging with her.
Thwack.
One more shell came flying and, unfortunately, the aim on this one was true, nailing me on the beak. Irritated, I stormed out of the store to find the source of the instigator. I scanned over the bodies to find anyone who could've been responsible for this indignity, eventually concluding that it came from the dining area across the walkway.
Whoever was responsible was in for an earful and I was already structuring which of the offender's family members would be acceptable as fodder for stray words. As I approached, I found the tables were mostly empty save for one, which made my heart begin to drop as I met eyes with the only occupant. Suddenly, I was much less inclined to hurl insults.
“Oh, hi there!” Qitel called out in a sickly sweet tone. “Come, take a seat! We have much to discuss!”
The Exterminator clutched a bag of tree nuts in his claws, a pile of discarded shells already gathered on the table next to him. He grabbed another as I approached, effortlessly prying the shell in half between two claws and tossed the contents into his mouth. “Good protein, these,” he commented as I sat down.
“Must be for that good arm you've got there,” I mumbled. I caught sight of a couple of bags beneath his chair, seemingly from one of the tech stores contained within the center.
“Bah, it's guesswork. So how are you? I haven't heard from you since we worked together!”
“I was just spending time with a friend, shopping and enjoying my time off.”
“Your time off? Oh, am I interrupting something?”
His snide tone irked me, though now wasn’t the time for interjections. “You are, Qitel,” I replied with no shortage of vitriol in my tone. “But I see no harm in chatting for a bit.”
“Good, because I have some merchandise”- he reached into his belt pocket and deposited a couple of items onto the table -“and you’re just the person to look into it, human sympathizer.”
I drew a terse breath in shock, but my worries were quelled when I considered that if Qitel had the power to do anything about it, he would’ve done so instead of approaching me so discreetly. A glance down at the item on the table showed that he was presenting what looked to be a tracker as well as a personal drive. “Found in the garbage,” he told me.
“The guild resorts to dumpster diving when they already have such a bloated budget now?”
“No, featherbrain, I have decided to keep this for myself. These items were found together, sealed in a plastic pouch, and placed in a garbage bin. The city has bans against electronics being placed into public bins, and so I was curious why this wound up in there. Managed to get my coworker, a techie, to crack it open and…”
Qitel reached into his belt again, glowering at me with the same condescending gaze he’d given me when I first saw his face. He seemed to revel in digging for the item as slowly as possible to waste my time. Finally, he found whatever he was looking for and revealed it as a printed piece of paper, folded into eighths. The snobby yotul threw the unfurled paper on the table and rolled it toward me.
I craned my neck to look at the parchment, though I was immediately perplexed by the text on it; it appeared to be some sort of form, going by the boxes with words on the inside, followed by blank lines. “Found on the drive, here,” Qitel told me, jabbing a claw to the storage. “Translator shows it as Terran writing.”
Drawing my holopad from my satchel, I held it over the paper with the translator to get an understanding. Surely enough, the language on it came up positive as a variant of Terran writing and I was affirmed in it being a form of some sort based on the wording of the text. The boxes seemed like an odd sort of job application, asking for the typical name, contacts, and prior work experiences, but quickly took a strange turn as it began asking for where their home on Earth was prior to arrival, what family they had on Venlil Prime if any, and where they worked, implying that they were seeking individuals who were already employed.
I knew little about human employment methods, but I didn’t imagine that sourcing individuals from other jobs was the most efficient way to gain a workforce. Terran service industries already dotted the planet while many humans also found work in local environments. So what was the angle that the creator of this application was going for?
Most concerningly was that the paper had no insignia, identifying marks, or noted address to return the form to. “And where did you find it again?”
“In the garbage, alongside this intact tracker that was activated at the time of recovery. Y’know, when I was dumpster diving. Text on the document showed it was addressed to one ‘Choctaw Nexus’.”
“A pseudonym of some sort?”
“Clearly. Short sorting through the archives shows the first name traces back to the group out east - perhaps you've heard about them. How the name and the items we have here are connected is beyond my understanding, but-”
“Well, this has been an absolutely riveting discussion about your collection of trash, Qitel,” I told him as I stood up to leave. “But this really sounds like an issue to be resolved by your fellow guildsmen.”
The sound of another shell splitting rang out as I turned away.
“I'm not through talking with you, predator.”
The sting as a piece nailed me in the back of the head prompted me to whirl back around, sticking my beak in the insolent yotul's snout. “Perhaps you've forgotten, little man,” I cooed in an equally bittersweet tone to the one he gave me before. “The krakotl never had a problem with settling issues the old-fashioned way before the interview. Try me and find out why I'm in the line of work I am.”
“Oh, we wouldn't want that in such a"- he waved his paw to a group of passersby who had stopped to gawk at my display -”public forum. Please, contain yourself.”
I had to force the feathers on my back to settle and I raised my head away from him. “What else is it you wanted, then?”
“Well, I'd appreciate if you took this merchandise off my paws,” he told me as he brushed the electronics and printout toward me.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you're closer to the humans than I'd ever care to be, and may be able to find out who this Choctaw Nexus is. Something about the package just feels… off. And I know when to trust my feelings. Besides, we both know that you know where Tac is, don't we?”
“I don't-”
“We have videographic evidence that you conspired with a human - of the aforementioned squatters, no less - and let the kid escape. You're not as sneaky as you think, and if we find this ‘Choctaw Nexus’ turns out to be a bad actor that can be traced back to them - and by extension, you - well, there’d be no talking down my boss from having you dealt with. By helping me find out who this is, you may yet be able to clear your name of any wrongdoing.”
I clenched my beak tightly to maintain a straight face. Qitel stood up with a flourish and discarded the bag he was carrying in a bin.
“See, the krakotl were never special for using threats and bullying to get results. It's because you were good at killing predators,” he jeered. “Now, if you don't mind, this primitive has appointments to attend to… old lady who got trampled courtesy of the humans and all. You stay out of trouble, Hileen, and stay in touch.”
The self-assured marsupial melded into the crowd in a matter of seconds, leaving me with a table containing dumpster trophies and a pile of shells. Reluctantly, I swept the shells into my wing and dumped them into the bin before gathering the other two items he'd left me and stuffing them into my bag. I'd been gone from Nampi long enough and she would notice my absence before long.
Crossing the walkway again, I could spot from where I stood that Nampi was indeed still in the Platinum Paw. I approached, and soon I found that while she didn't seem to have noticed me stepping away, she was definitely in a soured mood based on the sagging of her ears and tail. With my talons clacking on the floorboards, I hustled to her side and her mood chippered up ever so slightly as she heard me approach.
I chimed in, “Find anything?”
“Everything. I want everything, Red, and I can't decide on what I want. They all just look so great!”
From behind, a voice called out, “Nampi!”
We both jumped at the exclamation and turned about to spot the venlil lady I'd seen before spring from behind the shelf. The man poked his head from behind the shelf too, though less enthusiastically and with yet another bag in his clutches. My friend's eyes widened in surprise with her tail and ears perking up in kind. With a light in her eyes, she exclaimed, “Nalek!”
The two embraced with shrill squeals and laughter as Nalek's accompaniment and I traded awkward glances.
“It's been too long!”
“You never stayed in contact!”
The women exchanged giddy greetings and the pompous stranger turned to me, leering over me as though she was sizing me up.
“Who's your friend here?”
“Oh she's actually my-...”
Nampi paused for a moment, looking back to me.
“Yeah, she's a friend.”
“A friend,” Nalek repeated while her eyes flicked between Nampi and I. “Right.”
Somehow, I get the impression that that was judgemental.
“I'm Hileen, by the way,” I chirped, “if names are to be exchanged.”
“Hileen, that's a lovely name! And such plumage to match, it's a wonder you aren't swarmed by suitors!”
Internally, I groaned at the notion. The idea of being approached by someone to state their interest in me made me queasy, to say the least. Thankfully, I never had that issue growing up as most of the other drakes in school were too busy chasing girls who didn't have a lousy pigmentation mutation such as myself.
“I'm flattered,” I told Nalek before turning to the man whose name had yet to be introduced. “May we get your name?”
“Sask.”
His response was succinct and tonally flat, though there was a brief silence as I expected him to elaborate. Nalek's beads jingled as she lashed him on the calf with her tail.
“I'm Sask, Nalek's fiancée,” he added, throwing her a look to see if she was satisfied.
Nampi gasped with her paws over her snout. “Fiancée! Nalek, you're getting married and you never even told me!”
“Well, I felt a little guilty since it technically broke our pact we made when we were pups. You remember that?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I? ‘Let she who bonds through betrothal first be cast out unto the world for all to admonish her!’”
Sask and I both gave inquisitive expressions. “You two spoke like that as pups?” Sask asked.
“Well, I'm paraphrasing,” Nampi admitted with a playful ear waggle. “But you get the gist.”
“Indeed, they do, sweet Nampi. Now, may I ask what you're doing bringing your avian friend here into this store on this fine claw?”
“Oh, no no, she's the one treating me! Isn't that right, Red?”
I saw her tail twitch and was sure it took restraint not to tickle my neck with it as we stood before her old friend.
“She's been a good friend,” I explained. “So I wanted to reverse the roles for once and treat her to something myself.”
Nampi skipped over to me and wrapped her arm around me, glancing back to her old friend. “See? We'd all be so lucky to have a… friend like her.”
“So I've witnessed. But perhaps you're a bit stuck, as I've seen you prancing up and down these aisles for a while, no? Maybe you don't know what you want?”
“Nalek, you know I've never been good about making my mind up.”
“Some things never change, you ditz. Tell you what: you and Sask go find us a seat and we can catch up all we'd like when we're not taking up aisle space, yes? So shoo! I'll help Hileen here pick one out for you!”
With a bored grunt, Sask made off with the goods he had strapped to himself, followed by Nampi who gave me one more playful tail flick before dashing off into the crowd. I looked back to the mottled snout of Nalek who watched her friend wander off with a wistful glance.
“She was my first, you know.”
“Your what now.”
“Love. Way back when we were growing from pups into young adults back in private education, we explored much together. We saw each other through a lot, including the less savory parts of finding a mate. When Nampi realized it wasn't the boys she was into, she turned to me, and I offered my hand as her stalwart companion… to a point.”
“You weren't interested in her the same way?”
“I'd grown up seeing her as a sister of sorts, so ultimately, when we split it off, we stayed close as friends and she never seemed to be bothered by it. She struggled to find others in school who had the same interests as herself, but she never fussed about it.”
Nalek's claws browsed over a set of pouched bandoliers made with intricate embroidering. “Have you two… spent the night together? Alone?”
Spiritually, I reeled from the inquiry. The whiplash from that question was equitable to being smacked by a human. “Wha- why? How's that pertinent to the subject at hand?”
“That sounds like a ‘yes’ to me,” she purred with a smug glance my way.
I didn't need to begin to list the different ways such a question was violating to our privacy, and yet this woman was treating it like a game.
“Not really your concern, ma'am.”
Nalek chuckled as she picked out one of the bandoliers and inspected it with her claws. “I'd like to think that she and I still have that old connection, despite everything. And to that end, I know that she's no slag and doesn't trust easy. To see her be so vulnerable around you and to talk so highly of someone who's clearly below her income level as a predator…”
She stretched the bandolier out to appreciate the design in its entirety.
“Well, that's something special. Here"- she foisted the accessory into my wings as I stood gobsmacked -"this just screams her name.”
“This is, like, double my budget.”
“Love don't come cheap, darling. You wanna see good things happen, sometimes you've gotta step out of your comfort zone and grasp for it!”
“I'm being lectured by a rich woman on finances.”
“It's a philosophy that goes beyond money, ‘Red.’ The humans have a saying, in their horrendously predatory nomenclature, that contains a kernel of truth: ‘you miss every shot you don't take’.”
Yep, that's definitely a human phrase.
Nalek's steely braid rattled with every flick of the tail as we proceeded through the checkout.
“You want things to change between you and her?” she continued. “Don't just wait for it to happen.”
She let the conversation rest there as we finished the purchase, possibly to let me recuperate mentally from the damage done to my account. Outside, we found our respective partners sitting at a table with Sask looking up in boredom as Nampi chatted away, though she immediately shut up and turned to me with excited flicks of her tail as she saw what I was carrying.
I held it toward her and she happily shot to her feet, effortlessly removing the tags with her claws and clipping it to her belt. Nalek clapped and waggled her tail as the giddy lady did a whirl about to let us admire the accessory. While I'd have preferred one with pockets to give it a more practical use, I decided to let Nalek have the victory as our mutual friend clearly enjoyed it.
The rest of the paw was a blur as the two friends chatted without end until Sask eventually reminded his betrothed that they had a schedule to attend to. Though Nalek offered to call us a taxi home as a gesture of kindness, I saw through her ruse to determine that she was trying to pull a fast one on me - the clever ear flick she gave as we boarded the automated vehicle sold it for me.
We sat in the seats as the vehicle took the express ride home.
Nampi cleared her throat before she spoke, “Thank you for taking some time to spend with me, I know you've had a lot less free time as of late.”
“It's a prison of my own design, if I must be honest. A feedback loop of working a job that doesn't guarantee a paycheck to pay for rent that keeps going up, and thus needing to work more.”
The venlil giggled and chided me, “You really should've stayed in university.”
“There's a lotta 'should haves’ that've led me to this point. No use wondering what could have been.”
“There's always a use for wondering what could have been, Hileen.”
She wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
“Every decision I make, I always wonder what I could've done differently that it'd have turned out better,” she explained as she waved her free paw to the sky. “It's how you grow as a person, Red.”
Her silky pelt felt heavenly in contrast to the chilly air from outside, making it hard to let her words sink in.
“You rich types seem chock full of philosophy. I wonder if I'll become a brooding orator when I get some cash to my name.”
The cab filled with laughter as we veered around the final corner to my neighborhood, as it was the closest stop. The door popped open accompanied by a chime from the drone, signaling for me to depart.
But before my talons could even hit the pavement, I felt Nampi's scrawny arms wrap around my waist and she let out a pitiful mewl again.
“You don't need to get off here,” she told me with a pouty expression. “We can spend the rest of the paw at my place.”
“I'd love it, but I need to water my plants and get the month's bills sorted before they're due. Again.”
One claw at a time, I plucked her paws from around my waist and the childish venlil conceded, giving me another ear waggle as I departed. “I'll see you tomorrow?” I asked her.
“If you still have eyes by then, then you can bet your ass!”
“I still don't gamble.”
“You'll come around to it eventually.”
I shut the door to the taxi and watched as it carted away the one venlil who I ever truly felt on the same wavelength as. Fiddling with the lock felt like more of a chore than usual at this time as I felt a little voice tugging at the back of my head.
“You miss every shot you don't take.”
The lock felt jammed as I began to jiggle it more vigorously with the electric key. Either the RFID or NFC readers were messed up, as the lock refused to accept my key. I looked up and down the street, though Nampi was now long gone for me to rescind my earlier rejection.
“Every decision I make, I wonder what I could've done differently.”
The door rattled as I grew more and more infuriated with the lock. Qitel's smug expression as he threatened me so boldly in public played back in my head, and I wondered what would've happened had I decided to go through with insulting his mother. Better yet, I wondered what could've been had I not backed down in the face of his unflinching confidence.
Bzzt. The lock rejected my key again.
“Raagh! You fucking useless hunk of junk!”
I squawked in anger and kicked against the door, careless of the consequences of having Markol back down here to admonish another of his tenants for causing a ruckus. The walls were surprisingly sturdy for how ineffective the venlil architecture looked on the surface and I reeled back in pain as my leg throbbed.
Click.
I looked to my left to see that it wasn't my door that came open, but that of the twins. The door cracked open ever so slightly, no doubt nudged by the force of my tirade and I sighed. Nobody was expected to be home at this time, with Vili being away and Luka leaving early to get a head start.
Luka had been given a stern talking-to by the landlord for allowing one of those cats into his apartment through neglect, and I was disappointed that he seemed to have not learned his lesson this time. In fact, it seemed he hadn't even thought to lock the door this time.
I took it upon myself to shut the door for him before turning back to my own apartment door. Grasping the key with one talon, I turned it ever so gently, though the lock still refused to give in.
With a bit more force, the torsion applied to the key felt as though it should've snapped it by now. Markol sure didn't waste any expense for the security for this place, doubtlessly as a result of his history in electronic security, but I wished now that he had provided a way in that didn't rely on privately sourced locks.
Considering my options as I stood trapped outside, I realized that I had never gotten around to paying for a new lock for Tadi. I'd considered contacting her to inform her that Tac had made it out of town safely, but that'd involve also telling her that her son was now in the care of humans, as if that was a better outcome to her.
Stepping out front, I realized that there was one more option I hadn't considered: my window. I usually forgot to lock it after I was through letting air circulate and I was silently grateful to myself for this absentmindedness now more than ever. Sticking a foot on the threshold, I lifted myself in a way that'd allow me to have leverage to force the window open.
The window made me fight for every inch, but I felt a strange satisfaction as it slowly opened up into an entrance that I could squeeze my way through. I let out a sigh as my talons clicked against the cool floor and slid the window shut.
I laid my satchel on the couch and turned back to the door, ready to unleash my fury on the disobedient object. But as I reached for the lock to manually open the door, I noted that the lights on the RFID interface both flashed at once, blinking erratically. Red and green flickered without rhyme or reason, indicating that it was both active and inactive.
As pretty as the colors were, I now knew that Markol's locks were not as reliable as he had touted them about: typically, such would not occur unless the device was damaged deliberately, and yet nothing indicated that I'd had uninvited guests. One could pray that those cats didn't secretly know how to cobble together an ECM jammer, but my personal wager was on faulty equipment.
Settling in, I browsed my favorite soaps on the television. For what was intended to be a day of relaxation and show of affection for a friend, I found myself rather wound up over all the things that added up. Couples threw around flowery words and swooned over one another on screen as I felt the tension diffuse. My holopad rang and I turned it over to spot that Nampi was informing me that she'd arrived home safely.
>>> Feels empty here, all alone.
She made sure to drive the point home with a sticker of a venlil making a pouty expression.
Next time, I thought to myself, I'll get it right for you, Nampi.
[ First / Previous ]

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1xp4IAjQ8BgW16WJM2ZuGa5LQDPoyJSSV2Yp3mE3aOLM/edit?usp=sharing
Each cell has a street address see above sample. then a return and then the city, state and Zip code is on a seperate line, which is great because I can hopefully use that to easily break the two lines apart.
I need to mail a bunch of letters using letterstream.com and they require the City state and zip to either be a separate column or 3 separate columns.
been trying to figure it out via google sheets videos but no luck so far. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RZYr8127fo
thanks for any help

I've posted about a year ago regarding my then 7th month old scratching his head and hurting himself in the process. You can find the old post here: https://www.reddit.com/Parenting/comments/139ip9z/baby_wont_stop_scratching_his_head_until_it_bleads/
Recently I've had 3 different parents that have found the post and were in the same situation, inboxing for an update/solution, so I decided to make an update post in case more parents are looking for answers. Sorry I took so long. I know the despair you feel. I assure you it will get better if you persevere. This is an extremely long post, so I have bolded the several topics, in case you don't want to read everything, so they are easier to find.
To update on my son's situation: He's now 1y and 7 months. He is allergic to milk and he has a combination of cradle cap and eczema. In addition to this, he was also born with Hydronephrosis (enlarged kidneys) which means he is limited in the medication that he's allowed to take (no ipobrufren, as an example)
The Cradle Cap situation has improved by itself, mainly by just carrying on with what we were doing. We use the Frida Flake Fixer treatment and a cradle cap shampoo (Dentinox). We've also been advised not to wash his head every day, leave it 1 or 2 days (one doctor even said once a week). For the cuts, the best thing was indeed a Vaseline barrier to help the raw skin heal. Even though it definitely stinks, the healing is the most important part. I would put Vaseline on his scalp the day before a bath, do the treatment with the Frida Brush and then I would rub a Baby Scalp Oil (Colief) to soften the flakes on the day after the bath; I would put Vaseline on the scalp the next day and he would take a bath the next day, rinse and repeat, until the cuts were healed, and I could ditch the Vaseline step. If the cut was deep I would sometimes apply Sudocream only at night after a bath and the Vaseline was removed and he'd fallen asleep so he wouldn't take it off. He still slept with mittens inside his cuffed babygrow, but he always managed to get one or two fingers out, I kid you not when I say, that sometimes I would sleep holding his hand to prevent him from scratching his head when the wounds here at it's worst. All of these steps have contributed to has improved the cradle cap lot and eventually disappeared in about a month's time. He's going trough a second outbreak now, a year later, but no where near as bad as it was then, he's not scratching himself to death.
The Eczema situation. Right....... this situation has improved for a few good 7-8 months with the Aveeno Baby Dermexa Emollient Cream. I would use it 3 times a day or more to fight of dry skin. The areas where the skin folded were the worst. Arm folds, neck folds, behind the knees, there the eczema would install and spread, That could only be controlled an Hydrocortisoid Cream, 1% w/w. It did eventually disappeared save for one spot -- just behind the right knee. He developed a habit of scratching it with his left foot. But, lets put the Eczema situation on hold for a moment, while we talk about:
The Milk Allergy situation.... Oh Boy..... this is about to get very long.....
In my previous post made at the beginning of May 2023, I stated that my son had been to the A&E (a week before the post) for an allergic reaction to porridge, so he would either be allergic to Milk and/or Gluten. We were told a referral was done to our GP for a visit by an allergy team who would walk us through to process of slowly introducing allergens so that my son would hopefully be able to safely be exposed to them in the future and advised to "only feed him vegetables and fruit". We were given an "prescription" for an antihistamine to continue the treatment and to use as an SOS in case of another allergic reaction in the future. No allergy tests were done for my son at all.
We were told that, it would take a couple of weeks before we were contacted by the allergy team and to contact the GP after two weeks if we hadn't heard from them. We waited a month and nothing. At the end of May, I went to our GP to ask for updates on this situation. Imagine my shock when the GP told me that they didn't even have ANY information about my son being in the A&E. They've spent 1h contacting the hospital to get the paperwork from the A&E that SHOULD have been sent to our GP. In said paperwork, it states that the hospital would like the GP to sort out the allergy appointment. So, no allergy appointment had been made for an entire month and if I hadn't enquired about this situation, the GP would have had no clue about the need to make one because they didn't have the necessary paperwork! I was given an apology and scheduled an "assessment appointment" 2 days later. I enquired about an Antihistamine prescription, since my son was gonna start nursery in a couple of weeks when my maternity leave would end and I needed to provide a bottle for them in case of an allergic reaction, because we still didn't know what my son was allergic to.... Lo and behold, when the GP staff looks at the hospital paperwork, it was stated that no more antihistaminic was necessary, against what we were advised, as we should have one antihistamine as SOS, I had to press the GP to provide us with an prescription (which the lady was very quick to do after seeing me ready to implode regarding this absolute incompetence) so the nursery could have one antihistamine with themselves as we couldn't keep juggling our bottle back and forth with them.
The assessment appointment which basically consisted in 5 mins of asking for details about the allergic reaction, all of which was written in A&E's paperwork and only then being referred to a dietitian's team. I was given no ETA, no info about where it would be, no contact that I could call to at least be put on a waiting list in case of a cancellation, nothing. I was only asked to wait and when confronted, the practitioner admitted that this appointment COULD have been made straight in the hospital's A&E, instead of this ridiculous and time wasting bureaucratic football between the Hospital and the GP.
You might think this was the end of the miscommunication and incompetence.... Oh oh But no,.. of course not!! I waited another month of silence. At the end of June I called the hospital's appointment hotline enquiring about my son's appointment, only to be told that he doesn't have one because a referral hadn't been made yet! I was fuming!! I immediately called the GP who have assured me that a referral has been sent to the hospital's Paediatric and gave me it's referral number and they would enquire....
If you are in the UK like I am and you see that your baby/child is being ignored by your GP / Hospital and not getting the appropriate care, then do as I did and contact PALS near your area. That was the best piece of advice that I have received from people at my local breastfeeding group, and if being a mother has taught me anything, is that sometimes, you will have to be a momma bear (aka Karen to the eyes of the target) and advocate for your child. I work in retail, I despise Karens and I have no wish to be one, I am usually a pushover. But I will not allow anyone to trample on my son's health. And while I do have respect for the NHS, seeing has my brother in law works there, I know damn well, by his own words, that the main problem is not the lack of funds, but the pockets where they go and the terrible disorganization.
At that point I had enough of excuses and I made a complaint to PALS about both the GP and the Hospital. My son was almost 9months and still breastfeeding but eating mostly Vegetables and Fruit as solid food as per A&E'S guidelines, delaying his weaning and feeding development and causing stress with the nursery and our family as we didn't know what he was allergic to and couldn't move on to full meals. I flat out asked them if they were intent on my son completing an entire year of life being fed only Vegetables and Fruit besides breastmilk, and called them out because an 8 month baby should not be put on the back burner over and over again due to the incredibly poor communication between these two organizations and have his health jeopardized. I demanded a resolution ASAP and forward this to the Paediatrician as I did not trust the hospital to be able clearly communicate between their departments and whom I suspected had not been told absolutely nothing regarding all this. Two days later the allergy team specialist rang me to personally and profusely apologise and take the situation under her control and give me her allergy guidelines which I should have been given since the beginning. I was still forced to wait until early July for a allergy test - Milk was found to be the culprit.
I still thank everything that I had enough perseverance to stick with breastfeeding and never, ever, though to look at formula. I tremble to think about the consequences, Even though I'm aware that dairy free formulas exist, me being a 1st time ignorant mother, chances were I could have picked a wrong one. Fortunately I produced more than enough milk and my son had a good latch. Also because my son was not making any allergic reactions to my milk, this meant there was a higher chance that he could grow out of his allergy, as he was still getting enzymes from the dairy that I consumed. From here on, food introduction was a breeze. He's a real foodie, he loves to eat and he loves to eat with us. Adapting our diet was a bit of work, as I have IBS and my husband is diabetic so there might be some foods that will be a trigger or might not be the most ideal to someone in our family, but we managed to strike a good balance. Vegan options do help and we are having fun exploring that.
The problems then came with the nursery. After letting them know that my son was allergic to milk and other things were fine, the cases of allergic reaction in the nursery stated to increase and he started getting very bad reactions. First we suspected cross contamination, then that he might be allergic to something else, but the foods they were saying he was allergic to made absolutely no sense as he was just fine having those at home. We came to the conclusion after several events in the softplay area - that involved no food at all - that the culprit might be their cleaning products and further pressed after two different members of staff said they themselves were allergic to that product - Milton. After several bickerings between us and the nursery and us visiting our origin country for Xmas where my son ate in 4 different household and 5 different restaurant with absolutely no allergy reaction (in comparing to the then daily cases of reaction on the 3 days that he stayed at nursery), we finally convinced the nursery to change their cleaning products - they are now using Sanell. In addiction to prevent cross contamination, my son was given his own high chair, that no other child uses. Happy to say the cases of allergy are nearly non-existent now. His recent blood results also came back with amazingly good improvements, so we got the thumbs up from the Allergy Team and the Paediatrician to start the milk ladder and slowly and gradually adding milk to his diet. Currently he's in stage one and having half a teaspoon of malted milk biscuit daily with no reaction. It will probably still be able two months until he can have a full biscuit, but I can't wait to see his smile when we get to this stage - he loves taking the little piece of my hand.
Because of the back and forth with the nursery and them insisting that the allergic reaction could be due to other foods, the allergy team at the hospital was more concerned with that than his Eczema situation. We had to insist about it, since we suspected the reactions might be Eczema instead, stating that I was still waiting for the promised skin specialist appointment since end of April last year. The lead Team Speciallist, again showed her amazing professionalism and chased up the situation and we finally got our appointment jointly with her and the skin specialist in January of this year. She gave us a few products to try but said that the Eczema situation was relatively controlled. The samples that she gave were:

• Dermol 500 Lotion - we still use this for his bath as a soap substitute
• Adex Gel - kind like an emollient cream, it was ok-ish
• Cetraben Cream - didn't seem to make any difference, but can also be used as a soap substitute so we'll give it a go after Dermol is finished
• Zerodearm Ointment - didn't seem to make any difference, but it has a Vaseline like quality to it, so might try again

About a week after the appointment, my Son had an mild outbreak of Eczema on his legs. We tried several combinations of above products that seemed to temporally control the situation but didn't complete solve it. In Early March of this year the Eczema appeared in his back. He has a huge red birthmark the size of my hand on his back, so that skin is very sensitive. He started to scratch and rub his back against things and it didn't took long to break the skin. It didn't bleed but it was oozing/weeping which would make the skin get stuck to his clothes and then get raw, so no treatment was going to work on that as it would slide off with the oozing/weeping. I despaired then as I had a year ago.
So I went back to the thing that worked last time - Vaseline. This time though, it was on a place that I couldn't exactly leave uncovered. My son was about to do some blood tests so hospital had given us numb cream to put on the inside of his elbows and some clear medical film. He had this done before and I remembered that the film had been resistant enough to keep the cream in and didn't hurt his skin, so I though, maybe I could apply the same theory. So I bought some clear medical film (Tegaderm Film), put a good chunk of Vaseline on the wound and sealed it with the film. I changed this twice or three times a day, depending if he was in the nursery or not. It worked like a charm and it allowed the skin to heal. For reference, the nursery manager, whose son suffers with really bad eczema has suggested me the AproDerm Ointment which also has a Vaseline consistency to it, but my son's situation cleared up before I had to use it.
The skin specialist by then had prescribed a treatment with another hydrocortisoid cream ( Daktacort 2% 1% w/w, needs to be kept refridgerated ) and an emollient cream - Epimax Oatmeal Cream. For the other patches of Eczema (that were not in wound), I would use Daktacord, once in the morning, once in the evening, and I would use Epimax to keep the skin moisturized along the day, whenever I would change a diaper. The skin specialist told us to keep using Daktacord twice a day for a week, then drop it to once a day on the following week, and then drop it to every other day on the week after. This has worked brilliantly and it solved all Eczema patches, including the stubborn one behind his right knee, We were able to drop the Daktacord and we now only use the Epimax emollient regularly about twice a day.
Thank you if you have read everything so far, I hope you have found something that could be of use to you. Happy to answer any questions that you might have, or if you're feeling desperate like I was and just need some reassurance, just drop me message!

I thought it might be useful to lay out some of the more credible sounding comments and discussion I've seen around "the end" of Giuseppe's career and his disappearance. Nothing here is "officially verified", but I think there's a fair bit of truth in a lot of the information here, and might help point anyone who's interested in the right direction to a better understanding of his story. I've included the ones that make more sense to me/ reflect my own knowledge of the situation.
Giuseppe was living around Canandaigua, NY towards the end, staying with Mary's parents in her childhood home for a period, after they both had left Austin for unknown reasons. I would imagine the reasons would have likely been mental health and/ or money related for both of them (he was approximately 36 years old, at this point). Mary was still shipping movies out for a while around this time - the last order I placed on the website myself was November of 2014 and ended up emailing back a couple weeks later, because she had never sent me any information about receiving the order / shipping it out, in contrast to all earlier orders I had placed. She replied pretty quick though, and told me she had shipped it out earlier - it arrived about a week after. The return address was her parent's place in upper state NY.
Giuseppe's output got increasingly erratic and bizarre over the next couple years, and I wasn't really sure if half the items he was selling there were even real... they would have completely nonsensical descriptions, often like a free association / shitty "beat poetry" kind of thing, usually in all caps, featuring lots of bizarre and offensive language (racial slurs, AIDS references, etc), and the products listed were often things like a "3 minute DVD" for 20 dollars, so I was pretty skeptical / really didn't have much interest. He'd announce a ridiculous amount of new material, I'm talking like 5 new movies and 5 albums every week... The last order I made was for a few of the Austin films and I really didn't enjoy them, and more or less lost interest in any future projects at this point. I would still check periodically just to see what he was posting to the site, just out of curiosity / because a lot of it was really out there. He used to have audio samples for his "albums", and he almost exclusively was posting CDs of him ranting (with a ton of very weird throat clearing and coughing, it almost seemed like a Tourettes thing). His site went down somewhere between March 23, 2017 and July 3, 2017 according to Internet Archive. I can't remember exactly when he stopped adding new items, but it was probably sometime in early 2017.
He was clearly living in and around Canandaigua for a while, for at least 2-3 years, maybe even longer...
February 2017 - a twitter account called "HELP GIUSEPPE" was created and made three posts:

@ thecampaignbook Shia, G.A just came into my local bar needing help. he was stressin bad. hes in canandaigua NY and just stormed out of here
@ AdamRifkin G.A just stormed into my local bar, made it half way through the set up of this account and stormed out. needing you it seems.
@ EdwardNorton Giuseppe Andrews just came into my local bar very alarmed/needing a friend and help.

July 5, 2020 - a YouTube video entitled "What Happened to Giuseppe Andrews? A Short Investigation" is posted, some of the comments that were posted include:

(approx: 2021) I live in a small town called Carlin.. it’s literally 24 miles from Elko Nevada.. back in may of 2019 I was working at a small casino.. Giuseppe would often frequent the casino.. I worked the graveyard shift so it was mostly quiet.. he was polite and even remembered my name and would always ask me how I was.. I was able to get him to take a selfie with him and he even drew some artwork for me.. he told me that I could sell the artwork if I wanted to and fetch a decent price for it.. my husband and I were in the process of buying our first house and I told him no I would frame it and it would be proudly displayed.. he almost started tearing up..I’d happily upload the photo if YouTube would let me..
The same commenter also mentioned, responding to a comment about Detroit Rock City: yeah that was a good movie.. it’s really sad how his life played out.. he told me some sad tales of what he went through

> In early 2018 a man rang my doorbell in Canandaigua, NY. He was disheveled and seemed out of it***. He started yelling at me “I am Giuseppe Andrews, a Hollywood actor. I need you to call the police. “ I was startled and a little afraid but I told him to wait outside and I went in and called 911. He waited on my lawn and the police arrived in about 5 minutes. He spoke to the police in the car and then walked away. I don’t really live within walking distance of anywhere so not sure where he was going. I tried to obtain info from the police about what was going on but was not told anything. Has remained a mystery all these years later and I think people ( other than my neighbors who witnessed it) don’t believe me when I tell the story. Strange but 100% true.***
Some other interesting comments from various accounts, talking about the last stuff he was posting publicly:
> On his YouTube before he start d doing 13 albums in 2 weeks, his gf released a video a bunch of videos that was 4 or 5 hours long of him ranting on a couch with a guy. I think she was documenting it. I wish I would of downloaded it.
> And the next day it was all gone the footage, I have signed copys of DVDs and posters and shit he sent me in the mail.

(A reply from another commenter) - I remember he went on a long rant about various people in Hollywood and whatnot. Someone mentioned him having schizophrenia/paranoia, and while I'm in no way a psychologist or medical professional, it did seem like things were getting progressively more bizarre and unhinged. Given how creative and abstract he was when he initially started with his film making and music, I think it masked what was actually going on ( whether it was drug use, the onset of some sort of mental illness, or a mix of the two ). Earlier on he was still eccentric but seemed more lucid and driven with what he was doing.

> From what I've gathered (also a fan from DRC and Cabin Fever) his mother committed him to an institution and when released, he went to live with his mother. The twitter chick claims to be his fiancé now and he's no longer with Mary. But who knows.

It would turn out that Andrews also suffers from some very severe issues. Having chatted with his mother Giuseppegirl informed me that he has recently been placed in a mental health facility and has begun a 6 month stint in there where he has no access to the internet or anyone other than family members. He had a break up with his wife Mary Beth, who appears in a lot of his films, so it's possible that this is what put him over the edge. I've talked with Adam Rifkin who says he has some of Giuseppe's rarer films, but hasn't talked with the man for a few years now. That's as far as I have gotten in the rabbit hole.

A bigger YouTube channel made a video about Giuseppe's disappearance, titled "What Happened to Giuseppe Andrews? Internet Mysteries", posted Nov. 11, 2021:
(this commenter is different from account who made the earlier comment about ringing the doorbell in NY):

This dude showed up at my parents house 3 years ago in the middle of the night, asking for help and saying he needed to be let in. Absolutely no way was that happening. Long story short we found out after the fact that he was a character in Detroit Rock City & American History X some of my favorite movies
The last video of him I saw was a crazed rant of him yelling about censorship of art. He was real angry and cursing in a vlog style video. I think some people were criticizing him for use of racist language in his films I’m not exactly sure but I saw snippets of his rant and then the video was taken down a month later along with everything else.

1 year ago:
> He currently lives in Elko Nevada after having a schizophrenic break he still lives with his loving mother part time and she takes care of him. I see him around town a lot and only recently found out that he is Giuseppe Andrews. I can answer most questions if you’re curious.
There was also an interesting thread about 4 years ago, on a different subreddit:
https://www.reddit.com/RedLetterMedia/comments/gal55x/giuseppe_andrews/
A few of the more interesting remarks:

After his California days he spent a few years around Austin making films that mostly just starred himself and his wife Mary. Some of these are really good but his minimalism and experimentation are pushed to the limits here. Some are absolute garbage. After this there was a short stint in upstate New York with this same kind of limited style. Shortly into this cycle things for weird then he disappeared. Right before he disappeared he was posting a lot of troublesome content and releasing TONS of music and films with nonsensical names like "fffff" which would be followed up with "fffffffff". I haven't seen any of this stuff.

> I remember the New York era where things kinda went off the deep end. He released a lot of content where he talked a lot. There was quite a few where he would mention that he was desperately trying to reach out to John Frusciante
Has anyone else stumbled across any comments out there, that support this general narrative / add additional context, or perhaps give reason to believe something a bit different? In particular, towards the end with his site and the long drawn out "spoken word albums" / posts he would make? I listened to some of the audio samples when they were on the site years ago and some of it was unbelievably weird, like he was in a totally dissociated state, talking to people who weren't actually there. There were a couple specific celebrities he was "talking to" quite often, John Frusciante was one for sure, and another guitar player from a relatively small band I can't remember now (I looked them up at the time and thought it was particularly weird, as they were like a small time college rock band who had broken up years prior).
One thing I do remember quite distinctly was I was quite surprised when a shot of Giuseppe on a playground with a man and woman in upper state NY was posted to Instagram, a short while after his website went down. If I remember correctly, they were musicians and the caption said something to the effect that he was helping them film a video. At this point I thought he was more or less completely out of it based on what he'd been posting to his website, so I was really surprised that he had connected with some strangers to actually do something like that, but I don't believe there was ever any follow up posts. I haven't been able to find that post since, if anyone ever remembers seeing that, and who the couple were that would be unbelievably helpful to me!
From the bits and pieces that have come out, I feel like I can stitch together a bit of an understanding of how things might have gone down over the last decade, but a lot is still very speculative to an extent. I'm really curious if anyone out there can corroborate some of these stories in any way, or add any additional information!

Spare miscs
s after the name = displayable item
Irradiated Bonemeal s
Uplink Module s
Flight Recorder s
Module Instructions s
Uniform Voucher s
Fire breather kit ticket s
Potassium s
Phosphorus s
Nitrogen s
"Evidence" s
Robot Part
Poison Supply s
Buffout Supply s
Albino Radstag Blood s
Army Training Graduation Papers s
Serum Z
Beckett's Belongings s
Bobby Pin Box s
Bolton Greens Centerpiece
Bolton Greens Place Settings
Broken Uplink
Cargo s
Claim Token s
Commendation s
Creature Attractant Recipe s
Creature Deterrent Recipe s
Dove Necklace s
Devil's Blood Vial s
Earle's Pocket Watch
Dry Kindling
Damaged Mainframe Core s
Edwin's Diary s
Edwin's Key s
Eugene's Letter
Feral Ghoul Blood Sample s
Graveyard Shovel s
Greens
Growth Enhancer Recipe s
Growth Suppressor Recipe s
Heating Coil s
Inert Bombs s
Irradiated Ore s
Item for Allay s
Lou's Remote Detonator s
Luca's Explosives a
Mainframe Core s
Moist Radkelp s
Mole Rad Blood Sample a
Mr. Fuzzy Token s
Nuka cade token s
Nuka-World Toy Truck
Osmosis Kit s
Portable Power Pack s
Pressure Gauge s
Scanner Upgrade s
Solvent Attractant s
Solvent Deterrent s
Solvent Enhancer s
Solvent Suppressor s
Strange Book s
Toad Eye
Token s
Toxic Barrel
Toxic Sludge
Trench Mask s
Type-T Fuse s
U.S.S.A. Beacon s
U.S.S.A. Crew Dog Tags
Unstable Mixture s
Uplink
Valid Ballot s
Weapon case
Wolf blood sample s

Sorry if this is a bit disjointed and long, there's a TL;DR at the end. I just had my LEEP on Thursday and wanted to share my experience. Hopefully this soothes a fellow over-thinker.
Background: 30 yr old female, 130 lbs, 5'2". No moderate, severe or chronic health conditions.
I was diagnosed with high-risk (HR) HPV with LSIL/abnormal cells in February of this year. Not 16/18, but another HR strain. I got at least one shot of the HPV vaccine before I turned 26 so I was really shocked at this. I had a complete emotional breakdown because of the connection to HPV and cervical cancer, plus I just felt....dirty. I've gone through my sexually active years without getting as much as a yeast infection, and now I had just been hit with an STI, and the one that causes cancer. I went into a pretty deep depression and honestly I'm still in that depression zone but not nearly as much. I did a ton of research and my findings told me that even if it was cancer, it's one of the most curable ones especially given my age, health, etc.
My primary doctor referred me to a gyno's office connected to the hospital I go to, and I scheduled an appointment for March 1st. Gyno (who was actually not an OBGYN but an APRN/midwife?) basically did a slightly more advanced exam/questionnaire then I got another referral to an actual OBGYN for a colposcopy and scheduled it for April 1st. I thought I would have the colpo/biopsy with the APRN during my March appointment but I guess that's just a "yeah your primary is right you need a colpo" step. Idk, very confusing.
April 1st comes, the doctor that was available for that date (I wanted to get this done asap) had some less than favorable reviews on the internet so that made me a little uneasy. Between each appointment I was spending hours researching, redditing, googling, youtubing etc. so I wouldn't go into this completely ignorant and hopefully minimize the chance of any BS being pulled.
My doctor was, to my surprise, very chill, professional and knowledgeable. Took time to answer all my questions, we even had some laughs. Please ladies, find a doctor that makes you feel comfortable if you can. No question is a silly question and no doctor or nurse should make you feel like you're stupid for raising concerns or asking a lot of questions. If you feel something is off or a doc is being an a-hole, that's your sign to GTFO and find another doctor. Pleasant staff make this experience so much better.
The colpo: wasn't that bad. They crack you open like a pistachio with a speculum (like they would use for pap smear) and take a look at your cervix with this scope. A vinegar solution is applied to highlight the abnormal cells. My doc's colpo machine did have a screen that could show me what he was seeing, although it wasn't working and honestly I'm glad. I think seeing what was going on inside of me would make me worry more. So I just had to take my doctor's word for it when he said the area of abnormal cells was small.
I had a punch biopsy done during my colpo and oh man. It hurt. I wasn't instructed to take ibuprofen beforehand. I'm not sure if they didn't think I would need a biopsy or what but holy crap. 2 samples were taken, at 12 o'clock and 6 o'clock on my cervix, and I received a curettage as well. The curettage didn't hurt or was minor in comparison to the biopsy. After the biopsy, a "liquid bandage" was applied, this bandage is called Monsel's solution I believe. It's a mustard yellow paste.
The biopsy caused immediate moderate cramping and pain. The "6 o'clock" one, which was a larger sample, made me flinch and let out a little yelp. 6 o'clock hurt a lot. I will say that my doctor talked about what he was going to do before doing or as he was doing it so it's not like I was taken entirely by surprise. However, you don't realize how sensitive your cervix is until a chunk is taken from it.
After the biopsy, I felt this dull pain, nausea and cramping and apparently had excessive bleeding. Dribbles of blood were present on the procedure chair and floor, some of which had been cleaned up by the nurse/assistant prior to me sitting up so who knows how much was there. Doc confirmed this excessive bleeding in my after visit summary, but it wasn't so much so that it warranted some kind of emergency. I experienced some spotting for about 2 to 3 days after. I expected more blood in my pads but that never happened. I think seeing all this blood, knowing where it came from and why it was there made me even more nauseous.
The nausea and...weakness after the biopsy really had me messed up. I could barely focus as my doctor went into detail about what to possibly expect afterwards, what he saw (he even drew a little picture of my cervix), answered any questions I had. We said our goodbyes, I got dressed and made a mad dash to the waiting area's water cooler. I figured some cool water would calm my nerves and my stomach. I stupidly walked home after the procedure (I live in Chicago, very close to my doc's office). Nothing terrible happened but in hindsight, what if I passed out in the office, in the street? If you can ladies, have someone with you to get you home safely and for support. Or, at the very least, take an uber after.
After getting home I checked my pad, everything was good although I did have some "coffee grounds" in my pad from the Monsel's solution. The doc warned me about this and to expect it for a few days. I crashed on my couch for a little nap before going to a concert later that evening because I don't know how to take a day off.
The next month following my biopsy was largely uneventful, I did have intercourse about 2.5 weeks post-biopsy with no issues or pain, although the thought of infection and the whole process made it hard to enjoy sex (I healed up just fine so this was more unnecessary worrying). I didn't experience any pain, fever, or excessive bleeding, only some mild discomfort/cramping/lethargy (likely due to mentally stressing myself out) on day 2. I did however, experience one moment that freaked me out:
Day 3 post-biopsy: I got home from after work (my job requires me to be on my feet most of the day) and felt something in my vagina. It felt like a freshly inserted, regular sized tampon. I went to the bathroom, washed my hands and reached down to feel something coming out of me. Something was crowning and breaching my labial gates. I reached back down and slowly pulled out whatever object was in me. It felt like a horror movie. I knew I had inserted nothing.
Based on the feeling of said object, I thought my cervix was falling out of my body. I started panicking a bit. Panicking intensified after pulling out this...sac.
It looked alien. It was this membrane sac, about the size of a pitted date when rolled up. Within the sac contained those "coffee grounds." I knew it was the Monsel's solution and likely I had shed the liquid bandage. That logical thought didn't stop me from freaking out and gently wrapping my alien sac Starbucks trash baby in a piece of toilet paper and further sealing this HPV caused abomination into a Ziploc bag. My plan was to run to the ER and show them the freak I had given birth to.
Problem is, I had just lost my is insurance and was in process of getting a new plan, so a costly trip to the ER, waiting for hours for them to likely tell me I'm a panicky idiot wasn't really in the cards. So what does any overly anxious patient do? Turn to Dr. Google of course! I found a couple of reddit posts from women who had experienced the same thing but there wasn't much information on what had just slithered out of me. I found one of those "pay $5 for any kind of advice: legal, medical etc! Chat with an expert today!" sites that seemed legit enough. I got in chat with a doc quickly after some AI pre-chat prompts and he confirmed my suspicions: it was the Monsel's solution that I had expelled from my body. I was told this wasn't unusual and so long as I don't have an excessive bleeding, fever, pain, blah blah, I should be fine.
And I was fine. If you experience this and don't have any accompanying complications, you should be fine too. It is weird when it happens though.
My results came back about 2 weeks later. What was initially thought to be LSIL turned out to be HSIL/CIN-III, and my OBGYN told me I needed a LEEP sooner than later. My appointment was scheduled for next month and I still didn't have insurance. These month long waits between appointments were anxiety ridden depression fests, fueled by junk food and further exacerbated by internet research. The LEEP posts on Reddit had me so concerned, I reached out to my doctor to see if I could be put under general anesthesia for my LEEP, instead of receiving local anesthesia. Women on here described LEEPs as painful and traumatic. Just awful stuff. If you're reading this you've likely read those too. They described leg shaking after the shots, crying, etc. My doctor left me a detailed voice message and responded to my concerns with: "most women tolerate it well but if you're uncomfortable we'll send you to the hospital and put you under monitored sedation/anesthesia." I was still worried but was willing to see how I felt after local anesthesia. I was pleased he was open to working with me and my comfort level.
Fast forward to Wednesday last week:
The night before my LEEP, I got maybe an hour of sleep. I couldn't turn my mind off. My heart started racing an hour before my procedure and I had weird heart palpitations/irregular heart beat. I showered to calm myself down and be clean for my appointment, took 600 mg of ibuprofen as instructed, then headed out. Got a little snack from Starbucks (croissant for before since I was walking to my doc and some madeleines for after to help offset some potential nausea). For my LEEP I wore a big comfy sweater, some "period" leggings (leggings that aren't too tight and I don't care if they get blood on them) and brought a pad with me just in case. They should provide one for you but I'd rather be prepared. Got to the office, checked in, did the pregnancy urine test, got called in quickly, went through the whole height/weight/med history routine. About 5 mins later I sat down in my OBGYN's office. He described the lab findings (CIN-III), detailed the procedure, the tools and supplies they would use, aftercare and answered any questions I had. He then led me into a procedure room (pretty sure it was the same one I had my bloody biopsy in). I got undressed from the waist down like a pap, sat in the procedure chair, draped a little paper blanket over my bare bits and waited. The doctor came in with his nurse and went to work.
They again cracked me open with a speculum, this time it was rubberized on some parts. This is so your vagina doesn't get fried from the electrical current, otherwise your pubes and vulva will look like Marv in Home Alone. They also slapped a little rubber pad on my thigh to "ground" me like I'm some kind heavy duty machinery. Colpo machine comes forward so the doc can zoom in on your cervix. He applied 2 types of solution if I recall correctly: the normal vinegar solution to highlight abnormal cells and an iodine solution to highlight normal cells. Someone can correct me if that's wrong. The solutions and their uses were the least of my concerns.
He then went in with 4 lidocaine injections to numb the area, total of about 1 ml of lido I think. He used a very small needle and upon insertion, it felt like a little pinch. Now, for those afraid of needles, it is a long ish needle but the actual poke is minimal. Although some women report that the inject was the worst part. That was not the case here but the visual can be a bit alarming. After the first injection, I didn't feel the other 3. I felt comfortable going forward with the procedure, and my doc kept checking in with me to make sure I was ok. I did feel an increase in my heart rate post-lidocaine, but it wasn't concerning. I wasn't sure if this was from the "holy shit he's about to start zapping" or as a side effect of the lidocaine. Regardless, my heart rate came back down to a reasonable level given the circumstances in a few minutes. I was actually so comfortable at this point, I managed to relax my asscheeks after they were clamped together like a vise grip from the moment my derriere hit the chair.
I'm not really sure what happened after the injections, I knew he was using the LEEP machine but I don't know how long that lasted and when the wound was being created vs. cauterized as I didn't feel anything except some mild cramping/discomfort. I didn't flinch like I did with the biopsy. When the doc was finished, he applied a little bit of Monsel's, described how much he removed, went over aftercare again, we said our thank yous and goodbyes. I got dressed and went on my way, snacking on my madeleines on my way home (I walked again lol). I felt well post-procedure and even stopped at Target to do some shopping and smell some summer collection candles. I did feel myself bleeding but when I got home and checked the pad, there was a minimal amount of blood. Some women here have reported a distinct burning smell during their LEEP, I didn't smell anything but I also have sinus issues soooo maybe I just didn't pick up on it? My appointment was at 9 a.m. and I was out by 9:32.
When I got home I had some orange juice, water then slept for about 8 to 9 hours. I did have little cry sessions here and there after my procedure. But I was also sleep deprived and know I tend to get emotional. Regardless, take some time off after a LEEP, stay home around your own germs if possible. Get some of your favorite snacks, a face mask and a Nintendo switch or something. This is a good time for some self-care and rest, girlies.
Friday, day after LEEP: no bleeding, minor cramping/discomfort.
Saturday: Usual morning pee met with some blood in the toilet paper. Nothing in my pad though. Throughout the day I slept on and off, I've been more tired than usual. My body and mind has gone through some shit so I'm not mad at myself for being sleepy. I did experience some heavier bleeding throughout the day that was mostly dark colored. The blood level was about the same if not less than what I'd experience with a period. No unusual smell. I did shed the liquid bandage. Did have some mild cramping at certain points during the day but not debilitating or worth taking ibuprofen over.
Sunday: Energy levels finally back up to something normal, don't feel as tired. Still bleeding dark red blood/brown discharge but it's minor. Ran some errands today, I figured gravity would cause me to bleed more but it's about the same as yesterday if not less.
If there's interest, I'll check in at maybe the 2 week and 4 week mark, or whenever I remember since this is my throwaway account.
Overall the LEEP was way better than the biopsy in my experience. Reddit had me freaking out. I know I'm lucky, and this post isn't to dismiss any terrible or painful experience other women have had. I want to share my 'positive' experience, since most of my mental state surrounding my diagnosis, fears, the upgrade from LSIL to HSIL, has been negative.
Oh and I did get insurance literally a week before my LEEP, thank God.
If you have any questions please feel free to ask them below!
TL;DR: -Colpo: easy -Biopsy: sucks. Most pain I've ever felt and felt nauseous/uneasy after. Ask your doctor if you can take ibuprofen prior to a biopsy. Monsel's solution/liquid bandaid came out in sac-like alien baby about 36 to 48 hours later. Was able to have intercourse 2-2.5 weeks post-biopsy. No insertion of anything for about 3 days after. -LEEP: easy-ish? 600 mg ibuprofen 1 hour before procedure. Anxiety inducing but once I was numbed with local anesthesia, I felt nothing except some mild cramping. The injection didn't hurt and caused no serious side effects. No smell. No excessive bleeding. Felt fine post-LEEP but did experience some bleeding. It's been less than a week so I'll update if anything spooky happens, if no updates then expect everything went fine. No intercourse/tampons/etc for 3 to 6 weeks.
Tips: -Prioritize self care throughout this experience especially. It'll help you stay calm and heal. -Dress comfy for procedures -Take some snacks and water to your appointments for post-procedure ick -Do your research. Knowledge is power even if it makes you uncomfortable. Youtube was a great resource for me, I like to see what's going to happen before it does. Just try not to get worked up like I did. -Ask questions. If a doctor makes you feel stupid, see another doctor if possible. -Have someone with you for support and to make sure you get home ok -If you experience fever, intense pain, soaking through pads, or notice any weird smell: GO TO A DOCTOR

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.

Hello fellow social workers. I'm a second year MSW student and I just got accepted at an internship at a big hospital. It's a very coveted internship with a lot of competition and I'm lucky I got it. I am terrified I am going to lose this coveted internship and below I will explain why. I know I'm overthinking this but it's hard not to in this circumstance.
About 6 7 years ago, I left a relationship with a man that was extremely abusive and controlling, was addicted to gambling and substances. At one point in our relationship because of his spending we became homeless. He took me with him on several occasions to the grocery store to seal food and hygiene items. I would get arrested with him because I was with him, but then I had the charges against me dismissed. I think there are three or four maybe more that have been dismissed. Obviously this was a very horrible period in my life and ever since I left him my life has improved dramatically, I've surrounded myself with positive people, and I have excellent references from working with vulnerable populations such as children, the elderly, and also a previous career in finances where I never breeched anybody's trust. I have also spent time giving back to the homeless by handing out food at the la mission on skid row. I also do tons of animal rescue. Just in case, I am compiling letters of reference from my current & former employers. Under California law, any charges that have been dismissed should not be disclosed. I am about to do a Live Scan soon and I'm wondering if I should say something beforehand and just explain the situation and that it was dismissed or like I have been told by many, don't say anything and then wait if they question me. I am terrified I am going to lose this position that I worked so hard to get because of a dismissed/expunged misdemeanor record.
Please let me know your thoughts if you work in a hospital or hiring. I want to be fully honest with them I just don't know if I should tell them beforehand even though professors and a lawyer I consulted with have all advised me not to say anything because charges were dismissed. Help please advise.

--⧼ 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?

It occurred to me that my previous post Changing Gears left people hanging. So, I felt compelled to follow up and give an answer.
Part 2.
So, I would say we have hit upon a link of sorts that exists between Merck and CytoDyn that cannot be denied.
As I alluded to in that post, there must have been a massive conflict of interest in CytoDyn's management BOD and Cyrus' intentions when it came time to making the decision to proceed or not to proceed with a fully funded MD Anderson combination Keytruda Clinical Trial for mCRC. While it would have been greatly in favor of CytoDyn to pursue this trial, the BOD incredulously made the unbelievable decision to walk away from it, completely against Cyrus' wishes. As we know, "Any government divided cannot stand. It will fall... eventually."
Was there an argument between Cyrus and Tanya? I'd say more than likely yes. He was still VP and remains as such. I believe the reason why the BOD decided the way they did was due to their 1st allegiance to the FDA and not doing anything that would risk the hold getting lifted. After all, they came too far to blow it at the last mile. However, it remains possible, that Merck did not want the MD Anderson Phase II Combination trial for mCRC to happen. After all, Merck just completed their own trial of Keytruda with their own CCR5 blockade Vicriviroc and the trial just finished last week. It failed. Maybe they needed time to see if their own CCR5 blockade would work before experimenting with ours at MD Anderson?
Could Merck have influenced the BOD in one way or another and push to cancel the free trial? The trial that Cyrus arranged which would provide CytoDyn with a vast amount of FREE unequivocal Research Data so valuable to CytoDyn. That would have provided that pot of gold, free of charge to CytoDyn. The unassailable and unequivocal data set which Cyrus absolutely required in order to properly present the Company to Big Pharma so as to receive proper bids and valuation. Merck could have been against proceeding in this trial because they had their own to try first and that might have influenced our BOD to pull the plug. Maybe Merck said, "wait, we want to try out our drug first. If it fails, we will be knocking on your door." And that was all which was necessary to get the BOD to comply.
Now, with Dr. Lalezari as CEO, CytoDyn is back on board in the pursuit of mCRC and his decision is supreme. Why wouldn't that fully funded MD Anderson trial still be an option? Maybe it still is available, but it would have to be a combination trial ONLY. The two drugs cannot be pitted one against the other. You cannot have leronlimab beating Keytruda. No absolutely not. Given that Keytruda is on the ticket, the FDA accepts the trial.
From this BioSpace Article March, 2023, Cyrus confidently asserted:

"These are both areas where checkpoint inhibitors have failed to show efficacy when added to a standard-of-care backbone, Arman said, adding that leronlimab has shown positive signals in both.
“From a mechanistic standpoint, we believe we could get a synergistic effect with a checkpoint inhibitor,” he said.
Leronlimab is currently being trialed in combination with Keytruda (pembrolizumab) in a breast cancer xenograft model in partnership with MD Anderson Cancer Center.
Arman said CytoDyn expects to observe an enhanced anti-tumor effect from the combination and identify immunological biomarkers."

From the May 2024 Letter to Shareholders, Dr. Lalezari stated:

"It is imperative that the Company generate unassailable results in the clinic and I believe the above trials can accomplish this. Starting the oncology study and related fundraising is the top priority of the Company at this time"

Both of them boldly claim the effectiveness of leronlimab in mCRC. Cyrus says it could generate a synergistic effect with Keytruda resulting from the combination of the two drugs, while Lalezari points to the unassailable results both must have appreciated. Certainly, both men have also seen the unassailable results that shall be described in the coming (2) journal articles in mTNBC. When Amarex was forced to hand over the raw data of these trials, it had to be decoded and put into FDA Good Clinical Practice format which took hours and hours of painstaking work, but it got done thanks to Bernie Cunningham, Joseph Miedling and the auditors Cyrus put into place for such work. What they found must have been truly amazing so as to compel them to put those results into a peer reviewed journal articles.
In my prior thesis which u/psasoffice had also helped me determine, The Timeline and The Connections as to why CytoDyn pulled out, I discussed Kivlighn's role in the matter. Remember, I put forth that Kivlighn had pulled it away from Merck. That he took the free trial opportunity away from them so they could just buy us to perform the trial themselves. I said that Kivlighn caused CytoDyn's BOD to pull out of the trial in hopes of forcing Merck to swoop in and buy CytoDyn outright. I wrote:

"Kivlighn needed to determine CytoDyn's best path to partner. Kivlighn began changing the direction of the company while Cyrus Arman was sick. Cyrus was headed down the "do it alone" path. His main goal was MASH, but he also wanted to partner in Oncology and he wanted HIV, cure, long acting and was eyeing the resubmission of HIV-MDR. When Cyrus was out on MLOA, Kivlighn had the opportunity to modify or change Cyrus' original heading. Kivlighn wanted the company sold. He wanted the company partnered or bought out.
At some point, because of the results of the MD Anderson study, I believe Cyrus Arman had negotiated with MD Anderson on a CRC trial where CytoDyn would supply all the leronlimab, while MD Anderson did everything else. MD Anderson offered this to Cyrus and Cyrus was all in. Just waiting for the hold to lift. But, while Cyrus was sick and out on MLOA, and because Kivlighn had Merck experience and because Kivlighn "knew" how to make the company obtain a partnership, he recommended that CytoDyn turn down the MD Anderson offer to perform the CRC trial and to take that away from Merck. Almost like a "bait and switch". Kivlighn was thinking that if Merck really wanted CytoDyn, that they would come on in, swoop down and buy it outright, completely before anything was proven by trial, that might raise the asking price as they knew its capacity already given the study was with Keytruda, MD Anderson and leronlimab. They could do the trial themselves if they bought CytoDyn. Maybe, Kivlighn wanted to prevent Merck from thinking that they can wait to see how well leronlimab does in the MD Anderson sponsored trial which would give Merck some time before making the offer to buy CytoDyn. He wanted to take that away from Merck and force them to buy now. Because if the MD Anderson trial were to proceed in CRC, the good results would make CytoDyn even more valuable. I'm really not sure what Kivlighn was thinking, but whatever it was, it sure did piss off many people, especially Cyrus Arman."

If this conjectured hypothesis is right, then Kivlighn must also have believed, that the data in both the mCRC murine study and the mTNBC trial which he had also seen, in his opinion, was powerful enough such that a Phase II trial was not even necessary and a pull out of the trial would surely induce Merck, (who was also privy to the same murine data), to purchase the Company. What Kivlighn failed to consider though, (if this whole scenario is true), is that CytoDyn never owned the MD Anderson data and CytoDyn now has no way to prove that the MD Anderson results in fact do amaze unless they decide to purchase that data from MD Anderson. In addition, he also failed to recognize that Merck was running their own combination Keytruda + CCR5 Blockade Vicriviroc against mCRC simultaneously. So, then the BOD, Kivlighn and possibly Merck could be all to blame for the cancellation of this otherwise windfall and gratis trial that CytoDyn could have immensely benefited from.
As to the pursuit of what the FDA intended for CytoDyn to proceed once coming off hold, which is the Inflammation and Immune Activation trial, it initially did not draw sufficient support from the public and therefore did not result in an increasing share price to the point to raise funds without completely depleting available shares. Therefore, CytoDyn now has its CEO and VP in concert back on the mCRC train again. But a partner is necessary and fund raising has become #1 priority.
Look, all of the companies are out to find the best weapon against these MSS tumors. Right now, there is no solution. Leronlimab is the solution and the data that proves it is in the hands of MD Anderson. Soon, data for it is forthcoming in the (2) peer reviewed journal articles in mTNBC. But regarding mCRC, that data resides with MD Anderson and it is only in a murine study, but apparently good enough to have been offered a fully funded Phase II combination trial with Keytruda. So, Dr. Lalezari made the decision to shift gears to this new mCRC indication but he needs money. He also needs a partner. But he has Cyrus there at his side and Cyrus somehow got MD Anderson to create this Phase II trial.. How did he do that? He must have spoken to some Merck people, wouldn't you think? to see if they also wanted to take the profound murine mTNBC results and apply them towards mCRC in a fully funded human, phase II combo trial? Maybe he can do it again and if need be, without Keytruda?
But this time around, the only way the trial could be run is as a combination only trial. The two drugs could not be pitted against each other. If they were synergistic before, then they are kept that way. Regardless of which PD-1 blockade is used, it should remain a combination trial because of the partnership. The partnership is more important than which drug is doing the work. But, Why would we want to experiment with another PD-1 blocker when we already have seen the results as synergistic? We wouldn't unless we were forced to. Meaning, Merck fails to enter while another PD-1 comes in and partners. Would that induce a Merck counter bid? Assuming they have found no solution to their expiring patent problem, it probably would.
After all, why is every drug out there failing to extend their patent? Is Keytruda simply unable to treat MSS type tumors despite all means of assistance? But we have evidence of their synergism. Given that the only known substance on Earth that is capable of treating these MSS tumors is leronlimab, why have we not been the #1 choice to combine with? Until now, with the hold said and done with and given the new change in priority to mCRC, and with Merck's Keytruda with their own CCR5 blockade Vicriviroc Trial which failed, will Merck now be interested to take a second look at CytoDyn? How long will this search go on for? How many patients?
The provocative data is coming in peer reviewed journal articles that prove leronlimab treats the very difficult mTNBC. Merck already knows from the murine study that it treats the MSS mCRC tumors. What matters is that they know the data and that the data is unassailable as per Lalezari and Arman. They know that by combining with leronlimab, they would have a successful result. The only problem is that they cannot show that leronlimab is better at it than Keytruda. Therefore, they cannot have a standalone leronlimab arm and a standalone Keytruda arm. The two cannot be pitted against each other. And I thank Respert24 for this ingenious answer.

"Notice they didn't create a Dud-Only arm versus a Keytruda-Only arm. A surefire way to inadvertently show that a different drug is better than your own. Keytruda is already "proven" and is going to want to run a trial that shows they can extend their patent. Similar to this trial, if we ended up in a trial with them it would, in my humble opinion, be Keytruda + LL all day. Maybe both of the doses we've had in studies (350/700).

What I don't expect is a trial that Cytodyn would run if there was no partnership, which is to compare and contrast LL to Keytruda. If Merck is running it they're just trying to show that together you see a better result, and boom! They've got new life and we've got the exciting new darling of the oncology world."
CytoDyn have seen the data on mCRC, but it is not in their pocket. However, they do have the mTNBC data, but no priority to target that right now. Is that because, Merck or MD Anderson might have an interest in treating mCRC MSS type tumors? So, it seems like this won't be solved until Merck finds a solution to their problem before their patent expires. Patent expiration is the end all to all of this and they have 4 more years of trying to find something that will extend it. Something that allows it to be used on all MSS tumors, not just mCRC or mTNBC, but 85% of all cancers.
Given that Keytruda is the Darling of the Oncology World and given leronlimab is the only drug that can treat 85% of the oncologic tumors out there while Keytruda can only help less than 15%, doesn't it make sense for them to come together in combination therapy to treat the entirety of cancers across the board? In this way, so many of the world's problems could be wiped out in one solid partnership. Isn't the name of the game to have a therapeutic solution to the entirety of this disease? And who can't work with Lalezari? That is no excuse.

We are first-time homer buyers and our offer on a Seattle home was recently accepted. The buyer's agent called us and said there's a strong offer that's expiring in three hours. The listing had only been active for two days, and it was our second time seeing the house. She asked us if we were willing to go higher. We did the math, offered our max price without putting a CMA together due to the high time pressure. Our agent had to scramble and put the offer letter together. Our agent did not stop us as she thought the house was of the value that we were offering. The buyer's agent kept pushing our agent seeing if we could offer more as the other buyer matched our offer. Eventually, we had to waive inspection and financial contingencies to win the bid.
Waiving inspection was fine, as our agent knew the pre-inspector and he did an awesome job. The appraisal came in just 10k lower (our offer was over 1 mil). However, the seller did not agree to lower the price or meet us in the middle as we didn't have an appraisal contingency in the contract. This was kind of the last straw knowing the stressful buying experience that the buyer's agent put us through (but yes, we also take responsibility for our decision) and knowing the house had issues like knob and tube, an old water heater, and an older roof that have 5 -10 years left from the pre-inspection report.
My partner and I liked the house enough. It has a good school district, it checks all the boxes, but not at the price point along with all the waived contingencies (but yes it was ultimately our decision, and we kinda messed up). My partner eventually mentioned that she probably wouldn't be here for more than 5 years, as she prefers other neighborhoods after we spent some time walking around the neighborhood. We are now experiencing strong buyer's remorse deciding if we should back out from the deal and lose our earnest money (4%) while we still can. We chatted with our agent and she was super understanding and will help us get in touch with people on her side to provide some legal perspective. Would you guys continue to close the sale or back out and potentially find a cheaper, smaller home?
​
​

Timestamp
Pics (GMK Sets)
Pics (Other keycaps)
Pics (RAMA Artisans)
Decreased price to let these go.
I am not interested in any trade. Bundle deals will get discounts, so please ask.
Price includes shipping within contiguous United States. If you are outside of CONUS, feel free to ask for the added shipping cost. I will adjust shipping cost for combined purchases.
Keyboard kits will not be splitted. Selling as a whole package only.
Keycaps are all sealed unless stated otherwise. Artisans are all unused.
Not splitting kits: if you want the base you have to take the child kits. If you want a child kit only, you have to take the base and other childs together.
​
Keyboards

Item	Description	Price
Iron 165 R2 Midnight Teal (pics)	Brand new unbuilt kit. 2 solder PCBs, 1 CF 7u plate, 1 alu 7u plate, extra gaskets. Alu weight and badge.	$400
Linworks Dolphin 60 WKL Burgundy (pics)	Brand new unbuilt kit. 4 plates (1 alu, 1 pom, 1 pc, 1 fr4), 2 PCBs (1 1.6T solder, 1 1.2T hotswap), some foams, and extra weight. Very nice carrying case included.	$620 (bulky shipping due to carrying case)

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GMK Sets

Item	Description	Price (shipped within CONUS)
GMK 80082 BL00	BL00 base, BL00 aesthetic (spacebar)	$105
GMK Dots R2 White	Light base, Light spacebars	$140
GMK Muted 2	Base, extension, cyan & purple accents	$190
GMK Stargaze	Base, spacebars, alt alpha	$240
GMK Nautilus 2	Base, explorer	$220
GMK Space Cadet R2	Classic base, icon, symbol	$210
GMK Serika 2	Hiragana core (base), macro extension, spacebars$185GMK NorseStandard (base), aesthetic (spacebars)	$140
GMK Seafarer	Captain (base), Sailor (spacebars)	$150
GMK Pacific	Fuselage (base), Wings (spacebars)	$130
GMK Metropolis R2	Base, Blocks (spacebars), Signs (novelties)	$180
GMK Sample Mods Kit	Sample Mods Kit	$30

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Other Keycaps

Item	Description	Price
ePBT 6085	Base, spacebar, novelties, all unused.	$110
KAT Oasis	Arabic alphas, modifiers, RAMA artisan, Sealed.	$80
KAT Space Cadet	Grey alphas (opened to check and received replacements for defective keys), 60s Mods (opened unused), spacebars, novelties.	$85
KAT Refined BoW	Alpha, Icon Mods, F Row, Numpad Clean, Spacebars. Sealed.	$120
KAT Refined WoB	Alpha, Icon Mods, F Row, Numpad Clean, Spacebars. Sealed.	$120
Hammerworks CRP R5	Korean Beige Alphas, 80s Mods Beige. Brand new unused.	$110
WS Kraken	Wuque Studio Kraken, Lightly used base kit.	$60

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RAMA Artisans (All brand and unused)

Item	Description	Price (shipped within CONUS)
RAMA X GMK Peaches n Cream Lite	Peach Alu	$45
RAMA X GMK R5	Cherry Alu	$60
RAMA X GMK a	Shrimp Alu (RAMA version not HIBI)	$30
RAMA X GMK Hazakura	White Alu	$35
RAMA X GMK Hazakura	Pink Alu	$35
RAMA X GMK Minimal 2	Square Red Alu	$35
RAMA X GMK Minimal 2	Circle Blue Alu	$35
RAMA X GMK Red Alert	Cherry Brass	$70
RAMA X GMK Dualshot R2	D Alu	$35
RAMA X GMK Deep Navy	Rama X Alu	$65

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Accessories

Item	Description	Price (shipped within CONUS)
Percent Studio Skog reboot PCB	Brand new solder PCB	$45
Savage65 PCB	Brand new solder PCB	$35
Frog TKL FR4 plate	Brand new full (standard) FR4 plate	$30

Thanks for reading!

Hello everyone,
This will be my first 3D printer. My main use cases will be printing various stuff I want to try in PLA, and plan drone spare parts (antenna holders, etc...) in TPU
I want to make sure I don't miss any obvious thing :

Printer

• Bambu Lab X1C + AMS combo
• 4-in-1 PTFE adapter (as I plan to print TPU
• Some PTFE tube to connect the 4-in-1 adapter to the external TPU spool
• Bambu High temp plate (Smooth PEI)
• Bambu Glue stick

Filament

I need to research this further, for PLA I plan to experiment with the sample spool provided, for TPU I need to research which brand works well with Bambu

Filament storage

• Sealed storage box with gasket (Rotho Evo Safe keeping)
• Wisedry Silica bags (food compliant)
• Hygrometer : Switchbot meter
• Dryer : Eibos Polyphemus for drying / TPU printing : here (I got convinced re: Eibos from the https://www.mytechfun.com/filament-dryers page)

I don't want to print a box : they look cool but by their maker's own admission they leak so humidity creeps in

Shelf

• Ikea Ivar (here)
• Good ol' concrete paving slab 50x50cm (I understand this + foam is the best combo for stability)
• Foam to put under the slab (here) : I'm all ears if anyone has a better option for Switzerland / Europe
• Winix Zero Pro Air purifier (the room has no window but has a good ventilation system, so I'll use this as complement)

Do you see anything obvious missing ?

Man, just wanna give some shotout to PJ, dude has been impressive this playoffs; elite Defense, elite Dawg and more impressive to me...
Dude is ice cold blooded, he doesn't fear the big moment, and even when this 2 last games he was on foul trouble and out of rythm has come huge on crunch time for us, hitting a corner 3 and a rebound + dunk to stop Thunder run on game 5, and then hitting two 3's and the winning 3 free throws (i'm gonna count the intentional miss like it went in because was perfect) to seal the deal.
And funny enough, with a small sample size of 12 games he has gone from 31.4% 3pt shooting on 5.8 FGA during the regular season to a whooping 40.7% 3pt shooting on 6.8 FGA during the playoffs.
Its gone (for me) from meh, PJ 3 attempt on the corner on crunch time? no bueno to oh pj is shooting a 3 with the score close and less then 5min? its going in.
And shotout as well to the rest of the team, Lively and DJJ have been huge for us on this series; Kangaroo Josh has brought up some hustle and energy from the bench, and we even got some good minutes of Hardy Party!!
And lastly.... wanna give a shotout to the Dallas announcer crew (Mark Followill, Derek Harper, Lesley McCaslin, and Jeff Wade) because i've been missing them so much
​
Lets go Mavs!
​

Can smone pls mark my descriptive text from 40? The question: write a text abt an old broken object. Thanks in advance!!!! :))
The watch
Fetching in my grandpa's soldier's uniform's pockets, I found an antiquated piece of time: a watch of his, back from the Second World War. I desperately tried to discern it, but my body cast an eerie shadow on the watch that it made it impossible to even see the Roman numerals on the watch's interface. I clasped my fist, tenaciously, with it inside and then shuffled my way to the room's window, furitively, trying to avoid drawing the attention of my parents. I opened my fingers, one at a time, and revealed this incorrigible piece of history of my grandpa, but I found that it was worn out and in a miserable state. It was broken. The front glass had an artistic pattern of scratches, that I was incompetent of reading the brand's name, the golden dull case was apparently damaged and had etched wounds and the brown leather's threads of the strap, that sewed two layers of leather together and sealed them, stood sporadically erect like stubborn baby hairs after a dip in salty seawater.
I flipped the watch upside down and there were illegible letters engraved on the back cover. As I was scrutinizing it, attempting to read what was carved onto this opulent disk of gold, I noticed it was craggy and wasn't evenly straight. It was open that it looked like a crevice from the side. Before attempting to shove my nails in the crevice and opening it, I tried peeking into the intricate brain of this masterpiece from the ajar lid, but it was all dark. Black. Nothing could have been seen, even with the sun's light directly aimed at the opening. I felt rejoiced and more curious, for I considered it a mysterious adventure to discover the neglected for decades. I impetuously, but a little tentatively, hauled the cover and it opened, but with a simultaneous crack sound. My heart skipped a beat. I looked at the inside of the watch, but I wasn't seeing. My eyes were broad open and my eyebrows arched exaggeratingly. Did I break it? What was that crack? Oh no. I examined it and concluded that it was just because it was so old and decrepit that it didn't open smoothly.
The inside was dingy and dilapidated. Components were stuffed with dry soil and the smell was musty and noisome, that it tickled my nostrils. All I could see were thin metal strips half buried in the relatively large amount of sand, like plants hesitatingly growing to the atmosphere. I felt like it was necessary to open the lid, because soon enough the revolting scent diffused and was no longer there, as though releasing sorcery from a sacred bottle. I was bewildered. I didn't know whether to fix it and make of it a good use or to keep it as is, useless, but an unforgettable memorandum of my grandpa's corpse. I pondered in silence, considering its value that I could sell it, but I disregarded the idea hastily, for no amount of money was worth such intimate, although still reeking, object.
I repaired it.
Post receiving it, it was good as new. The glass was spotless and I could read 'Patek Philippe 1941.' The case was still damaged, because it was irreparable and the leather strap was sewed all over again. Reading the bottom lid, the letters were: 'L.J.C' which stood for Lieutenant Jacob Carlson. Although the repair made a hole in my bank account, that I may not recover from. This sole detail made it worth all the money I spent. I decided to keep the watch and use it daily, as an honour of my grandpa's corpse

Just another fun little story idea I had. I am still working on Humans are the violent ones but I like to bounce around and experiment with ideas to see what I really like. I also suck at writing more casual stories, as they give me severe writer's block as I try to map out how to make a scene feel genuine in my head, but I promise I'll update that soon. If you like this story and want to see more, then like and comment. I'll gladly continue this series as well.
Start of Personal Log
Humans don't like being told what to do. They don't like being commanded, put in their place, or snubbed. It was an inexorable, inalienable trait of humans, at least any noteable humans, to go against any authority that they believed was against their interests.
Humanity would not fit amongst the stars. Few ever did. It was a trait of most successful species to be willful, ambitious, and to desire more. But once they reached the stars the new (and simultaneously very old) pecking order either quashed any spirit such species had or simply eradicated them. Countless tomb worlds and diaspora served as painful reminders of what became of the nails that chose to stick out. The hammer of order would always strike. There could be no compromise, the very soul of the authority that held the Jurisdiction together relied on a show of unmatched power, or at least the illusion of item.
In reality, the Jurisdiction was an old, fat, and lazy beast. It filled its belly on the corpses of empires far and wide, and sated its bloodlust on the shattered dreams of hopeful cubs. It had every right to, for none could challenge it: there were no new frontiers to explore, nor were there any other enemies to conquer. The Milky Way, as humans had so strangely dubbed our cradle galaxy, as well as Andromeda, had long since been warred over and settled for millennia before humanity had arrived, bright-eyed and with familiar yet otherwise foolish dreams of cooperation and prosperity. The Jurisdiction did not cooperate, nor did it ensure prosperity. Oh, it claimed it did, but in reality it simply took. The rest was just the peace that came with not being the direct target of the biggest fish in the pond. The humans didn't like that, but they had no choice.
Slavery was a common tribute. The Jurisdiction had no use for other resources: it simply took. No, it wanted those who could facilitate that unequal exchange, those raised in a world where the only morality was the one set by your lord. The Jurisdiction was held together by expectations, obligations, and dury more than any kind of shared dream, so when you were ordered to take you did so without question. Humanity was new: they had no niche or value that set them apart, but they had a penchant for killing and taking, so the Jurisdiction gave them a taste of how the galaxy worked. They killed and they took. The humans didn't like that, but what choice did they have?
Humans were strange. They learned, but not in the way most species learned. Most species learned to adapt in a passive way, to adhere to the world around them. They flowed like water, moving past and around obstacles and confirming to the boxes they were assigned too. Humans didn't confirm, nor did they adapt: they made their circumstances fit their desires. They would not move around obstacles, but rather smash through them, and they refused to stay in one box for too long. The Jurisdiction merely saw them as a particularly loud nuisance, but those who faced their wrath knew better.
It is said that when a beast seeks to make an example, it shall humble its rival by killing it's cubs. Children were one of those universal constants that brought entire communities together: the Sok’klar saw their hatchlings as gifts, shaped by the fruitful currents of the universe in perfect harmony. The Yarrack saw each and every newborn whelp as an uncut gemstone, ready to be shaped into something magical. Humanity oftentimes referred to their offspring as angels, or spirits of unbridled good sent by the gods themselves. Children were seen by most of the galaxy as gifts.
The Jurisdiction saw them as a lever to inflict suffering. It had become quite effective at enacting psychological punishments on those that stood up and spoke out. You dare to disobey? You believe you can speak out? Your gifts shall be taken from you, and you shall be without joy.
Humans didn't like this, but the Jurisdiction would have their pound of flesh, and humankind would kneel. And they did. But humans were patient creatures: most species who retained that trait of willful spit also lacked patience.
I had long since become desensitized to the Jurisdiction’s actions: it was simply how the universe worked now, as if it were a constant akin to gravity. Cruelty was the unspoken rule of this seemingly unending age, where our lives never appeared to move forward or backwards, only lay dormant. The Jurisdiction had been the unyielding authority that ruled the galaxy for thousands of years, venerable yet feared all the same.
And for the longest time I was just another cog in its wheel. My name is Kalnuracht Sedjuur-Noumar VII, and was the scion of the noble house Sedjuur-Noumar. I was born into what most would describe as veiled apathy, living a life that could be attributed to the privileged class of feared scribes that enacted the will of those above. I was an administrator and nothing more. And now I am doomed to be far less than that in the eyes of my former constituents within the endless administration. I am the only scion, as is tradition, and without an heir I am the last of my house, our name to be scrubbed from the records, worthless, meaningless, and forgotten.
I am merely Kalnuracht, nothing else and nothing more. I have seen from their eyes, the eyes of the downtrodden, and it makes my crimes of association with the Jurisdiction feel all the more damning on my worthless soul. I am worthless to the world, and this is my story.
End Personal Log #1
Start of Neural Lace Narrative Log #1
They came from the black like carrion birds in the night, encircling our convoy as if it were a dying animal ready to be picked clean without remorse. There was no warning, no list of demands sent out as civilized peoples did, nor was there either any requirement for unconditional surrender nor chance to parlay, as was done so under letter of marque: this was an unmistakable call for violence and nothing else. They sought to reduce us to slag and scavenge the rest.
So, as one would expect, the entire bridge of the ship was nearing a panicked state. This was not the actions of those practicing civility, but rather the common behaviors of despoiling barbarians, the kind that tore their way through the dark reaches of the galaxy as if they owned it.
“Wayfinder, what do your probes see?” Shouted the ship’s sovereign. He was an older Kar’Rowmach, an amphibious cephalopod species with a venerable history within the Jurisdiction going back thousands of years. Normally one such as him would be above me if it weren't for the fact that I was under the authority of the Jurisdiction’s seal of office. He didn't like me very much, but most of his kind shared the same sentiment.
“All dark, honorable Sovereign: the sensor arrays are wailing but the feedback we're reviewing is beyond incomprehensible,” the wayfinder replied with a certain restrained temper in his voice. The Sok'klar wayfinder swayed gently, his tentacled limbs grasping different metallo-liquid braille output arrays, the liquid gallium flexing and reshaping unnaturally to allow him to to take in multiple different sources of sensory output at once, with the primary navigation computer plugged into the cybernetics surrounding his opaque, gelatinous head and plugging directly into his tube-shaped brain.
The Sovereign cursed in Loskat and pointed to his bridge crew while I simply sat in the back, near the Sovereign’s symbolic throne. “Prepare countermeasures and spool up the warp drive, we cannot allow the amanuensis to be taken! He carries sensitive information that only he can translate and transcribe!”
As the bridge crew nodded and began fiddling with their own systems, I preened my feathered hide anxiously. I wasn't a fighter: us nobles of the cloth were the educated minority above all else, not those who waged war or partook in hard labor. Special cybernetics in my brain allowed me to translate triple-encoded messages that usually took a ducal signet codekey or above to parse, but even without that I was a skilled mathematician and logician. I had terabytes worth of knowledge stored within the hardware installed in my head, all well protected of course, but if I were to die it would still be a waste. I could only imagine the damage any malcontenders could do with it if they were able to get their filthy hands on me.
Suddenly, the ship rocked, and the gallium overhead display began to form crescendos like I'd never seen before. “Sovereign, decks A-3 through C-12 are venting atmosphere and our coolant systems have been obliterated,” the Wayfinder spoke in an almost serene voice, as if he was completely unconcerned by current events. I knew they were simply incapable of tonal displays, but it was unnerving nonetheless. “Once we jump, we will not be able to risk another until the vacuum of the void can reduce temperatures to acceptable levels within the plasma capacitors.”
“Damn them,” the armored nautiloid hissed, his barbed feelers coiling in frustration, “May the currents take them. What are our options? what can we see? This fleet cannot fall to the void today, not with such vital cargo.” My hackles rose lightly at the Kar’Rowmach referred to me as some object rather than an esteemed amanuensis of the Jurisdiction, but I bit my forked tongue. Now was not the time to squabble with the sovereign over who was what and what titles I deserved, not while he was so desperately attempting to keep what semblance of order within his fleet that he had left.
I could not blame the crew for being panicked either: wars were practically mythologized now, having been long since rendered obsolete with the rise of the Jurisdiction, and that felt like an eternity ago. Now, either being levied into or joining a ducal naval force was simply another career, more akin to serving as an officer of the law rather than a fully fledged soldier. Minimal training was required, most of it being the technicals of one's duty rather than any kind of combat conditioning, so expecting a fleet to actually be prepared for a combat scenario in a universe where peace was the norm was laughable.
“We are practically blind, Sovereign,” stated the Sok'klar Wayfinder, “our probes are offline, and shipboard graviton displacement sensory arrays have been rendered unreliable at best.”
“What about the particle emission array? Has there been a spike in radioactivity where we were hit?”
The Wayfinder seemed to think for a second, his gelatinous form flexing and morphing a bit before answering. “Affirmative, a jump from negligible to forty billion becquerels along decks A through E-5 on our starboard side.”
“Torpedoes…” the Sovereign hissed, stroking his barbed feelers, “Human Torpedoes. Only those primitives would rely on crude nuclear warheads.” He then turned to his militant leaders on the ship. “Noddos, Rel’ads: organize your phalanxes and prepare to repel boarders. We are bound to be assailed by those rancorous primates, and I want their skulls piled at my feet if they dare set foot on our ship.”
“Your wish is our command, Sovereign,” the two militant commanders spoke as one. Noddos, a large bipedal with multiple sets of curved spines running down his back, a pair of graceful horns sprouting from his head, and multiple rows of sharp teeth in his snout, bowed first, followed by Rel’ads, a marsupial with long saberteeth and thick fur. They both must have been fierce warriors in their own right to each lead a phalanx. They wore thick, semi-powered armor and held dueling polearms alongside their usual plasma casters, and seemed completely unfazed by the situation we were in. As they stomped out of the brightly lit bridge, I let out a quiet squawk of discontentment. “Sovereign, why haven't we jumped again? We are wasting precious time.”
“I am working on it, you spineless beaurocrat!” He warbled back, his feelers tensing in anger, “besides, it's not as if you're the one who will be spilling blood today, amanuensis, so flatten your wretched beak or I shall weld it shut with a plasma torch.
I was about to reply with something indignant, but the ship rocked again, this time causing the lights to flicker and the air to become… thick. The skin under my feathers began to blister, and I became lightheaded and confused. “Seal the damnable vents, initiate radiation scrubbers, and activate secondary life support!” Shouted the Sovereign, “Their nuclear weapons are rendering the ship inhospitable!”
I coughed up magenta blood accidentally, and I could feel more seeping from under my eyes. Some of the crew was in a similar position, but others were more resistant to radiation than I. The Sok'klar seemed completely at ease as he ran his tentacles across his morphic braille arrays before calmly announcing the ship’s status. “I've regained some control over our probes: ten, twelve, and seventeen are active and fully functional, the rest are either still malfunctioning or permanently inoperable. A rapid rise in localized radiation is also interfering with the detection of graviton displacement; we can't sense photon redirection, thus readings will remain inconclusive.
“Wayfinder, damn you, get me some kind of out here! We're easy prey until we can respond in kind!”
“Negative, something has gone awry with our processing hub, I am attempting to troubleshoot-”
And with that, the Wayfinder’s bulbous head exploded in a cascade of opaque lavender blood, covering the front half of the deck crew like a morbid art piece. Some of the crew screamed and shouted in terror before removing their cranial adaptors and choosing to interact with their displays manually. Others died just as quickly, unable to unplug in time as their brain stems fried or their blood boiled. It was a horrible way to go, having your insides neutralized by your own cybernetics, so I was glad I wasn't connected to the system.
“Cybernetic warfare! All systems are to be considered compromised, switch to manual settings or you'll be killed!”
The lights in the bridge flickered again, and the displays went haywire. The bridge crew, which obviously weren't acquainted with working without being hard-linked into the mainframe, moved at a much slower pace.
“Launch missile pods A through F and set to self-target after five hundred kilometers, then rely on their ballistic coordinates to begin firing broadsides! If we can't see the humans due to their meddling, we'll just have to feel them.” Shouted the Sovereign, “and got me a detailed report on the ship’s diagnostics readings. I need to know if this flagship is still capable of escaping or if we'll have to scuttle it and retreat on another.”
“Acknowledged, Sovereign, launching now,” affirmed another deck officer as he swiped across his own gallium output array. I could hear the dull thunk, thunk, thunk of missiles pushing out of their pods before racing off to their intended targets, then the mechanical whirring as the pods rotated to be reloaded by slaves in the lower decks. I was regaining my bearings as the many horrible sensations of being overwhelmed by radiation poisoning were beginning to subside, but I still felt as if I had been microwaved. The air was stale, the crew was horribly sick as well, and even the sovereign himself seemed to be on his last leg. I was beginning to believe that I might die here.
“Sovereign, a message from the lower decks,” shouted a communications officer, his chitin scraping against itself as he turned quickly, “they're requesting reinforcements, something about being overrun.”
“Impossible,” the Sovereign hissed out in a vain attempt to exude confidence, “We must outnumber the humans, they always go for bigger targets out of arrogance.”
“I've received reports that it's not just humans: the primates seem to make up only a third or so of the assailing force, along with some Phaeldaer and Vrex.”
The commander slammed his clawed hands down on his own output array in a fit of rage, obviously overwhelmed by the circumstances, “Then this wasn't just a typical assault, but something more sinister!” The nautiloid warbled, blood seeping from his shell as the full effects of the radiation took hold, “Get Rel’ads on the line, have him divert all spare lances to the lower decks or else we'll lose the only offensive capabilities we can use.”
“Rel'ads has gone dark, Sovereign, his vitals are critical.”
“Then either get me Rel'ads tail-leader or get me Noddos!” He screamed in rage, “don't give me this nonsense! If we don't pick it up we're all going to die, is that what you want?”
“No, Sovereign, I'm simply overwhelmed-”
“We're all overwhelmed! By the tides, I'm dying of radiation poisoning you nincompoop! Get me something I can work with!”
The officer didn't even acknowledge the Sovereign after that, simply turning back to his display. Eventually, the Sovereign was able to get Noddos on the line.
“Sovereign, two thirds of my phalanxes have been decimated by combat with the primitives and the radiation, the rest are in shambles. We must retreat and fortify elsewhere!”
“Then the ship is compromised! Rel'ads is unresponsive and the lower decks are swarming with intruders. We must evacuate the amanuensis to another ship.”
Just as the Sovereign spoke, I heard several gentle thumps rattle against the bridge’s door, and it made me uneasy. Some of the bridge crew seemed to feel the same, as they looked incredibly nervous and some even drew their sidearms. Just as the sovereign turned to give further orders, the door blew inward with a deafening explosion, followed by shouting and gunfire. Several of the bridge officers were dispatched quickly, brain matter and blood splattering against the delicate electronics. Others were shot in the legs, the torso, or in any other exotic yet non-vital body parts. The humans poured in, brandishing primitive ballistic firearms and jury-rigged energy weapons while wearing scavenged, legion-grade powered armor.
The Sovereign was the next to go, but he wasn't afforded an honorable death. He was shot along the arm with a particularly potent plasma caster, burning off his clawed hand and cauterizing the wound, the acrid smell of roasting chitin filling the already hot and cramped bridge. He fell back against his output array, the gallium reaching new highs and lows as more diagnostics and casualty reports were delivered, and he clutched his stump angrily. “I'll burn every last one of you in the foundries! I'll tie you to stakes, cover you in wax and set you alight! Your screams will be broadcasted all over the galaxy!”
One human warrior stomped up and slammed the butt of his rifle into the sovereign’s face, shattering his facial plates and causing blue blood to splatter across his section of the bridge. “Shut the fuck up, you mutant lobster,” the human said before dragging him by both antennae towards the center of the bridge and receiving a stained breeching axe from one of his comrades. “Emmanuel, start recording. We need proof.”
The other human nodded and pressed a button on his armor before lifting up his gun again. The rest of the humans fanned out, holding everyone else at gunpoint. I tried to get up and sneak out, but a human grabbed me by my neck and nearly wrung it out as he forced me to my knees and pointed a sidearm to my skull. “Get down, you piece of shit, before I blow your brains out too.”
“Damnable primate,” I hissed, but he bashed me in my skull with the base of his sidearm’s grip and sent me sprawling, making my already pounding headache worse. Another human shouted at him in a language I didn't recognize, but he sounded furious. The first brought me back up to my knees again, and I complies with a hiss and a groan, blood still leaking from my eyes and mouth and my world was spinning.
The Sovereign struggled, but he was weak from the radiation poisoning and he couldn't exactly resist on account of his lost arm. The human with the breaching ax kicked the Sovereign down and forced him to kneel before lifting up the breeching ax and splitting his chitinous head down the middle with one powerful swing, sending more blood and brains across the floor. “Execution confirmed, take his antennae just in case and we've got ourselves a bounty. Now all we need is that ugly cat’s teeth and the fat hedgehog-thing’s grimy spines and we'll be in business. Although, they do have skulls… we might as well just take their heads.”
The real horror of the situation dawned on me at that moment: they were going to kill us all, or maybe worse. They mentioned a bounty for the commanders, and multiple of the higher ranking ship officers were already dead, their brains splattered against the walls or their bodies torn apart by gunfire. I wasn't dead yet, but that didn't mean much since I wasn't an immediate threat.
“Alright, round them up and bring all the grunts to the hanger bay, then kill the rest,” the leader of the humans said in such a lackadaisical manner that his complete disregard for life almost made me sick… almost. I had seen worse from the Jurisdiction before, but usually that was from me delivering some kind of ordered judgment on a world that had sinned against order. I might have simply been the messenger, but I had seen many of the outcomes. “And make sure to collect whatever proof of bounties you can, we'll need to deliver them to the office to get cashed out. Don't let this be a repeat of last time where Juarez fucking forgot to take a few heads and it ended up cutting our profits in half, the fucking retard.”
Some of the humans chuckled at that as they dragged more of the senior officers away, out of the room and into the hall,where I heard gunshots. The rest of the bridge crew froze in place, different fear instincts kicking in. The remaining Sok'klar corralled together into what seemed to be a singular, semi-congealed mass as if to try and trick the humans into believing that they were much bigger and much more threatening than they actually were. The one Thei’chi on the bridge, an ensign who had clearly thought this would be a simple mission, bore her curved fangs at the humans and growled as they approached, her hackles completely vertical and her eyes dilated. They quickly muzzled and bound her before beating her over the head with a gun stock, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Many others simply cooperated, eyes wide and yet simultaneously empty, as if they couldn't quite process that the ship had been taken and the commanding officers were being executed as the rest were escorted to the hangar.
“Get the damn messenger down to the hanger as well, we need whatever data's in his ugly lizard head, then we can decide on what to do with him.”
I spat at him in spite, as if to try and seem brave, but it was clearly an empty gesture. “You won't get anything, primate! You couldn't possibly crack the encryption!”
The human holding me seemed to wind up for another swing, but the commanding officer simply held up his hand to stop my tormentor before strolling over to me. He knelt down and removed his helmet, revealing a beige-colored face covered in scars, wiry black hair cut down to the scalp, and multiple tattoos. “You're really fucking mouthy for a hostage,” he said before punching me across my beak faster than I could register. I heard a sharp crack as his fist connected, and my head spun again as the metallic taste of blood pooled into my mouth. “I'd advise you to shut up, but I'm sure you won't listen: you aristocratic types are so full of yourselves. Maybe I should have you flogged in the public square until your vocal chords give out once we rip those cybernetics from your head, huh? How's that sound?”
“It won't matter… it won't change anything… the Jurisdiction will hunt you down.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it will happen for some time: they really suck at doing anything that requires effort, even when they're mad enough. They just keep sending their rabid lapdogs to try and smoke us out, and they always end up full of holes,” the human officer said with a smirk, his yellowish-white teeth and green eyes sending shivers down my spine as he drew his knife. “They're just horrible at their job, you know? You've all gotten so lazy and incompetent after being able to just take what you want without resistance, and now that you've met people who are angry and crazy enough to fight back you act as if we're committing some grave injustice,” he placed the knife against my throat, the flat just underneath my now bent beak, “No, we just took a few pages out of your book, ‘cept we've got standards. No kids, for one…” he seemed to look off into the distance as his sneer deepened, “but it's more than that, we don't attack the defenseless in general and we still win against you all in fair fights.”
I went to say something else snarky, but he quickly grabbed my thin tongue with his fingers and yanked it out, blood from my mouth pulling to the floor as he held the blade of his knife against it. “No no, none of that. Say one more thing and I'll cut that rancid little tongue of yours out of your mouth and feed it to you,” he hissed at me, pressing the blade down just hard enough to draw blood. “Do you know what it's like to see a planet turn into a tomb?" he asked me, gritting his teeth, “Do you know what it's like to see everything you've ever known crumble to ash and glass, all the life and the green stripped away leaving nothing but bones? I do. I've seen it happen to countless worlds, and my grandfather always told me stories of how you bastards did it to Earth. He still prays in its direction five times a day, to Mecca, but he knows the Kaaba is gone now, or maybe it's still there, buried in the bones of those who sought refuge there.”
I didn't care for the human’s nonsensical beliefs, but I did care to correct him. “I've seen it before, and I'll see it again. And so will you, it's inevitable. The Jurisdiction will always have its judgment fulfilled, there is no alternative.”
“One day, I hope we can rectify that,” he said, then he sheathed his knife and slammed my head against the metal floor with enough force to nearly knock me out. As I lost consciousness, I could hear him speak. “Take him to the Chop Doc, and make sure the cybernetics don't get damaged: they're supposedly more valuable than any bounty on this ship.”
Warning: Severe radiation poisoning detected. Flush system immediately.
Warning: Neural Lace removal detected, chance of neurological damage high. Proceeded with caution.

Okay, so I want to share a few more tips! These are random, but I think I saved the best life hacks for last. Here you go:

• Pack a Bar of Soap in Your Suitcase – Going on a road trip or vacation? Bring a bar of scented soap to put in the compartment with your dirty clothes. It will keep the rest of your suitcase smelling fresh.
• De-Fog Your Windshield – Buy a chalkboard eraser and keep it in the glove box of your car. The next time those windows fog up, just rub with the eraser! It works so much better with a cloth, and let's be honest. It's pretty dang fun!
• Re-Open Envelopes – Did you just realize you forgot to include something in that letter you just sealed? No problem! Place it in the freezer for an hour or two. Voila! You can open it right back up.
• Keep Your Trash Can Fresh – Place crumpled newspaper in the bottom of your kitchen trash can to absorb liquid and odors.
• Aldi Shopping Cart Hack – Did you forget to bring a coin? Been there, done, that, got the postcard. Try this trick! Use your house key to unlock that cart.