Farewell dinner letter

Hey all, hope you're doing good. Feeling a little stressed about a recent situation since I filed for early termination end of April with support from my PO and a few letters of recommendation from past POs.
Last night I was riding home on my motorcycle with my girlfriend after getting dinner and a group of riders sped past me in the city heading towards the freeway. I didn't think much about it until maybe a minute or two later when I got pulled over still in city limits and was given a city code infraction citation for a loud exhaust.
I wasn't speeding or doing anything dumb as I'm a new rider and had my girlfriend on the back, so my best guess is that the cop thought we were part of the group earlier that sped through the city onto the freeway and decided to give me a ticket since the others were gone already.
Normally I feel like this wouldn't be an issue, just pay the fine or replace the exhaust and reach out to the prosecutor to get it dismissed -- Wouldn't even effect insurance.
But I'm just a little stressed since I've had no issues or even traffic tickets on probation up till now, and it's right after I've applied for early release and everything seemed like it was going good.
Am I just stressing for no reason? I've already submitted a LE contact form for my PO and planned on calling him tomorrow to ask about it, as well as the city prosecutor to see if I could get it dismissed by ordering a stock exhaust and putting it on.
Thank you in advance for any help / insights on this! Hopefully it's nothing and I'm just stressing for no reason.

Played survivors:

• Matías Recalt (Roberto Canessa): He calls Dr. Canessa “Robert”. Although they don’t resemble each other physically (other than having big noses), they do have similar personalities. Matías could not cry on set, his emotions were kind of blocked (his father had passed away very recently), but Roberto says he was never able to cry in the mountains either. Matías is also headstrong and would sometimes do things his way instead of the way Bayona asked for him, which was very Canessa of him (1).
  
• Agustín Pardella (Fernando "Nando" Parrado): He calls Nando his favorite hero and feels that he has taught him a lot about resilience, and makes him want to become a better person (2). He considers Nando a friend, someone with a lot of emotions and warmth, which he had to block in the mountains. Rather that portraying the “superhero” that the media has often painted Nando as, he focused on getting to know him as a person and bring his humanity onscreen (3).
  
• Agustín Della Corte (Antonio "Tintín" Vizintín): He and Tintín had already met before, since Tintín used to be the president of the Uruguayan Rugby Union, and Della used to be part of the national rugby team (3). They hugged when they met for the movie for the first time (4). tThey met a lot of times, and he got very interested in what Tintín felt in each moment, the emotional details, which is exactly what the survivors wanted. Him being a rugby player helped a lot. Tintín feels that he was able to capture a lot of the essence of what he lived in the mountains. The first time Tintín watched the movie, he didn’t know how he felt about it, because it transported him to the mountains (2).
  
• Felipe "Pipe" G. Otaño (Carlos "Carlitos" Páez R.): His mother made him read The Society of the Snow when he was younger, so he was more familiar with the story that the average Argentinian. He guessed that he was playing Carlos Páez before the roles were revealed because of his age, physical traits, and what lines he they made him read. He not only Carlito’s book, but also the ones written by his parents. He also watched a lot of interviews with Carlitos (3). He went to Carlitos’ house and met his family. They texted a lot during the process of filming, and still text semi-regularly (2). He also relied on Pablo Vierci on set for details of his personality (3).
  
• Tomás Wolf (Gustavo Zerbino): He didn’t only get close to Gustavo, they had a barbecue together, and he always answered his questions (3). He also got close to Lupe Zerbino, a daughter. He played in a football (soccer) match, Zerbinos vs Canessas (Zerbinos won). Zerbino still shows him support in social media, even liking more political posts (5).
  
• Esteban "Kuku" Kukuriczka (Adolfo "Fito" Strauch): He read the book as soon as he got a clue of what the movie was about. At first, they talked at the hotel for around three hours, then he went to his home and met his family, they could empathize with each other (3). Fito and his wife recently went to watch one of Kuku’s theatre performances (2).
  
• Francisco Romero (Daniel Fernández): They talked a lot. The first time they met up alone, it was in a hotel. Daniel had a lot of love when talking to Fran. Fran feels like he would have played a similar role/made similar decisions in the mountains. According to Chori Segura, Daniel is physically a lot bigger than Fran irl (4). From Daniel, Fran takes away temperance, listening to others, being able to put the group first (3).
  
• Rafael Federman (Eduardo Strauch): When they met, Eduardo gave him his book as a gift. He would always answer Rafael’s questions (3). Eduardo always received him warmly (2). Rafael took the exit sign of the plane as a souvenir from set, same as Eduardo irl (5).
  
• Andy Pruss (Roy Harley): He got his information from the books and interviews. But also from talking to him, and how he sees himself in the mountains, 50 years later, what he did right and what he did wrong, specially about not being able to keep his emotions in check, which ended up affecting him a lot (3). Roy took him out in his car to see the places where he grew up, where he studied, his childhood house. Roy also went with Andy and his parents to the beach (2).
  
• Juan Ignacio "Juanicar" Carusso (Álvaro Mangino): Álvaro as a character had never existed in the other movies, so he felt a lot of responsibility playing him. Álvaro took him home and personally taught him how he used to crawl with a broken leg. He would always answer any question he had (3). Álvaro and Margarita also took some of their family to set, for the hospital scenes (2).
  
• Simón Hempe (José Luis "Coche" Inciarte): Once his participation got confirmed in the movie, he bought the Society of the Snow and another book about the event, on a whim. It ended up being Coche’s book (3). He feels like he bonded with Coche, since day 1, almost like a grandfather. He also got close to his family, specially his (now) widow, Soledad (2). His death was very hard on Simón (3). They talked a lot, at his house, by phone, on set. They got close enough that Simón could show up to the Inciarte household unannounced (2), and Coche called him his “favorite actor”(2). Coche personally coached him on set for the rescue scenes (told him to remember to smile) and in the hospital (him and Soledad still remembered very clearly how their reencounter was). Soledad says that the movie was something that gave Coche energy despite being ill, and that watching it made him proud. He once met some friends of Coche by chance, and they shared pictures and memories of him (3).
  
• Valentino Alonso (Alfredo "Pancho" Delgado): When they first met by themselves, they couldn’t look at each other in the eye. Pancho is still very affected by what happened, and Valentino wanted to transmit the emotions (including impotence for nor being able to convince Numa to eat enough to live) that he could still see in him, but also fears the movie broke him a bit too (2). According to ML Berch, his manners are similar to Pancho’s, also him being very good at talking while still being reserved (4). Pancho told him still considers Numa his life’s biggest friend (3).
  
• Esteban Bigliardi (Javier Methol): Javier had already passed away (2015) by the time the casting started (2021). He got his information from reading books, watching interviews. He got to know that Javier, despite having a hard life, had a very strong spirit, passion for life, compassion. He asked the survivors about him, and they would say that Javier was love (3).
  
• Rocco Posca (Ramón "Moncho" Sabella): For the last round of casting, they sent him a video of Moncho, and he says that he nurtured himself with it, he felt like Moncho (3). They became really close, and he talks to Moncho informally, as a friend, on Moncho’s insistence (2). They talk a lot on the phone (2). Rocco feels that they formed a kind of connection, that he got some of his energy. Their families stories are a bit similar (ie. Moncho helped his father in the fruit market stall, while Rocco’s uncles did the same on the other side of the river, in Argentina), and also he would get certain feelings or trains of thoughts while in character, that he would later discover were similar to Moncho’s own in the mountains (3).
  
• Luciano Chatton (Pedro Algorta): They met alone at least once in Punta del Este, in 2021. They walked together, and Pedro asked him if he had read his book. He had, but hadn’t finished. They ended up talking for about 4 hours. He doesn’t want to talk a lot about Pedro, because what he says may be different from reality. Pedro seems to still carry wonder and timidity from the mountains. (2)
  
• Agustín Berruti (Roberto "Bobby" Francois): He too is from Tacuarembó, part of the Uruguayan countryside. He went to Bobby’s house. Bobby said that he didn’t have any idea as to why they sent him there, because he wouldn’t be able to help him with anything. So they drank wine and talked about the countryside life instead (1)
  

Played Victims

• Enzo Vogrincic (Numa Turcatti): He didn’t get to meet Numa’s twin, Leonardo, as he passed away in 2009. But he did meet Daniel Turcatti, another brother, and his children. He was given a tour of the Turcatti’s childhood home, and Daniel would recall different anecdotes in each room. Numa would have absolutely hated being a protagonist. The survivors and Bayona say that he resembles Numa in the fact that he would constantly bring himself down for not being good enough (1)
  
• Fernando Contigiani (ArturoNogueira): After the dinner with the survivors, he was taken to the Nogueira’s house and had a big tea time with them (3). They also accompanied him during the whole process of the movie. Arturo’s siblings, Gabriel and Selina are very thankful towards him, say their family is open towards him, and think Arturo would have liked his work. Cristina, another sister, says he helped her close her mourning process. He was the first person Selina called after she watched the movie for the first time (2).
  
• Benjamín “Chori” Segura (Rafael "El Vasco” Echavarren): His biggest source of information were Rafael’s sisters, Daniel Fernández helped him a lot too, since he held a lot of love towards Vasco while in the mountains. He tried to see what all three sisters shared, because Rafael could have had those same things too (4). The first time he met the Echavarren sisters, they asked if he would be their brother, and he answered that he would try. They hugged and cried, they laughed and talked for hours. The sisters have both said that they love Chori and that having him is like having their brother back, somewhat (but that Rafael was more shameless) (2).
  
• Paula Baldini (Liliana Navarro): She was able to talk to a sister, a friend, and her daughters (3). The most emotional part of filming was meeting the Methols daughters in the airport, since she was dressed exactly as their last memory of her. They all cried, and thanked her a lot (5). Male Methol says that the movie helped her picture the mother she didn’t get to grow up with (1). The other children also say that the movie helped them close the cycle (3).
  
• Diego Vegezzi (Marcelo Pérez del Castillo): He says that he got a lot of who was Marcelo from the Society of the Snow book, and also from "Del Otro Lado de la Montaña", the book written by the families. He had the same role as an empathetic leader in his family, the team and in the mountains (3). When they first met him, the survivors gathered around him because he looked so alike Marcelo (6). Stella, sister, says that what she saw in the movie feels like the Marcelo she knew, that his death onscreen brought forward the feelings she had bottled up for 50 years, and that the movie remembered that the 16 that made it back did it so because of the 29 left behind (1).
  
• Blas Polidori (Gustavo "Coco" Nicolich): He relied a lot in Coco’s letters, since they have so much of his personality (3). He mostly talked with Álvaro, also nicknamed Coco, the younger brother. They met at his office, alongside an acting coach. They talked about what Gustavo’s essence was, their family, their parents, how them, as a family lived the tragedy. Álvaro tends to leave supportive comments on Blas Instagram from the Nicolich family business account, he says that Blas could bring Coco back in his last moments and was thankful for it, even if he saw him suffer (2). He also keeps contact with Álvaro´s daughter, Coco’s niece, Pauli (3).
  
• Emanuel Parga (Sgt. Carlos Roque): Roque’s family didn’t want to talk much with the production, because they were still angry and felt disrespected because of his portrayal in Alive (1993) (3). He got in contact with Alejandro, Roque’s son, and also people from the Air Force. The first time he met Alejandro, they couldn’t speak, but they cried and hugged, it felt like two friends meeting again after a long time. He promised that he would honour his father, bring his dignity back (2). Roque’s sister got in contact with Ema only after the release of the movie, and was both relieved and happy with it. She liked that they portrayed the love he had for his job (3).
  
• Felipe Ramusio (Diego Storm): He had played rugby as a kid. He got in contact with Diego’s brother, and also a family friend. The survivor that helped him the most was Carlitos (very close to Diego, even named one of his kids after him), who invited even him to his house. After the movie, the family contacted him again and congratulated him (3).
  
• Alfonsina Carrocio (Susana "Susy" Parrado): She mostly talked to Nando. He was very descriptive on how she was injured, what she could and could not do after the crash, how Liliana would take care of her (3).
  
• Santiago Vaca Narvaja (Daniel Maspons): He was welcomed to Daniel’s nephew’s house with tea and chocolate. He keeps contact with the Maspons sisters, specially with Rosario, the eldest. They showed him a lot of love. She thanked him for helping her understand what happened in the mountains. He does not resemble Maspons in personality, since Daniel was very shy and not very talkative, and had to learn to have a silent presence (3).
  
• Juandi Eirea (Juan Carlos Menéndez): He did play rugby for 15 years, which helped him with characterization. The Menéndez family didn’t take part in the movie production (3).
  
• Federico Aznárez (Enrique Platero): His father trained in the Old Christian’s gym as a kid, so he had always had a big connection to the story. He re-read the books after being cast. He got in contact with Roberto Canessa, before the casting even finished, and they talked for about 30 minutes in Dr. Canessa’s workplace (the hospital), mostly about how their life were before the crash. He phoned Roberto before the last round of casting, because the books had very little information about Enrique, and Canessa invited him home to practice his scenes, and also to talk a lot about Enrique and his family. Netflix wasn’t able to contact the Platero family, so Gustavo Zerbino did it instead. They had a barbecue with Enrique’s nephews and nieces, who knew very little about him, and Fede asked Zerbino a lot of questions, with some chime-ins from the Plateros (3). He later got in contact with Martín Zerbino (son), Juan Pablo Nicola (son of the Nicolas, who passed away in the crash) and, alongside Juani Eirea went to the Valley of Tears in February 2023, where they left letters for Enrique and Juan Carlos (2).
  
• Jerónimo Bosia (Franciso "Panchito" Abal): Netflix was not able to contact the Abal family, most of them had already passed away. After the movie release, a step sister sent Carlitos an audio message, which got to Jerónimo through Pipe Otaño, talking about how she could now understand that Pancho didn’t make it back so that some would be able to (3).
  
• Agustín Lain (Carlos Valeta): They told him that he resembles Valeta in his looks and his youth (3). It’s unclear who “they” are, if they were survivors, Vierci or Valeta relatives.
  
• Lautaro Bakir (Julio Martínez-Lamas): He got to meet the family while filming, which was something very impactful for him. He met a sister while filming at the airport, him in character with a beard. He got most of his information by what Pablo Vierci and Zerbino told him. He was not a rugby player, but was a big fan of the Old Christians and would always participate in the chants (3).
  
• Lucas Mascareña (Fernando “Flaco” Vázquez): He met Teresa Vázquez, a sister, and her family when they saw him characterized at the airport, and hugged him without saying anything. They recognized him, and could see both his eyes and facial expressions that he played Fernando. A friend of el Flaco says that Lucas’ acting brought him back (2). Fun fact, the actor is a commercial pilot.
  
• Federico Formento (Daniel Shaw): He was initially unable to contact the Shaw family, so he got bits and pieces from the books. He eventually met with Miguel Shaw, Daniel’s brother, after Pablo Vierci got him his contact, while they were filming the Uruguay scenes (3).
  
• Francisco Bereny (Felipe Maquirriaín): Sandra Maquirriaín (sister) was involved in the process of the movie (1). I could not find any interview with him.
  
• Toto Rovito (Alexis Hounié) and Julián Bedino (Guido Magri): Although they do have interviews, I could not find footage of him talking about whether he met the families of who they played, or if they talked with the survivors about them.
  
• Louta (Gastón Costemalle), Maximiliano de la Cruz (Lt. Col. Dante Lagurara): Although they have speaking roles, I could not find interviews with them talking about SOTS.
  
• Pablo ??? (Dr. Francisco Nicola): To Juan Pedro Nicola, son, seeing him acting at the airport was magic, like seeing them again (1).
  

Did not board the plane:
- Fran Burghi (Alfredo Cibilis): He couldn’t meet Alfredo due to schedule conflicts (3).
Sources:
1) Behind the scenes documentary/Netflix interviews
2) Actors and personal Instagram accounts
3) Interview by Moobys (YouTube)
4) Interview by Fangirleando y Chismeando (YouTube)
5) Juanicar’s livestreams
6) Society of the Snow book (newest edition)

Hi everyone (sorry for the incoming long post)
I am trying to help a friend recover a list of books that we read in HS. They have a goal of re-reading them all again, but lost track of a good number of them at their former house and can’t find them. They went to school in Fort Bend ISD (Elkins HS) from around 2012-2016 and were in primarily Pre-AP/AP English classes so some of the books came from summer reading as well.
I am a former student of FBISD, but I also was only able to come up with a few books. I’m hoping someone can assist me in this search or if you still have your syllabi from your English classes at a FBISD school that you can share that is even better! Even if you weren’t in AP and have an idea of some books that were read during that time that would still be helpful.
Some books that we were able to remembebooks that they still have that might help jog your memory are: The Scarlet Letter; Lord of the Flies; Speak; Bless me, Ultima; All the Pretty Horses; A Farewell to Arms; 1984; A Brave New World; Of Mice and Men; As I lay Dying; and Fahrenheit 451.
If you happen to work at Fort Bend ISD school and have a current list of readings that match some of my list I would appreciate if you could share, however, I do know a lot of books are banned so it’s unlikely they are still reading the same books now.
Thank you!

Hi everyone (sorry for the incoming long post)
I am trying to help a friend recover a list of books that we read in HS. They have a goal of re-reading them all again, but lost track of a good number of them at their former house and can’t find them. They went to school in Fort Bend ISD (Elkins HS) from around 2012-2016 and were in primarily Pre-AP/AP English classes so some of the books came from summer reading as well.
I am a former student of FBISD, but I also was only able to come up with a few books. I’m hoping someone can assist me in this search or if you still have your syllabi from your English classes at a FBISD school that you can share that is even better! Even if you weren’t in AP and have an idea of some books that were read during that time that would still be helpful.
Some books that we were able to remembebooks that they still have that might help jog your memory are: The Scarlet Letter; Lord of the Flies; Speak; Bless me, Ultima; All the Pretty Horses; A Farewell to Arms; 1984; A Brave New World; Of Mice and Men; As I lay Dying; and Fahrenheit 451.
If you happen to work at Fort Bend ISD school and have a current list of readings that match some of my list I would appreciate if you could share, however, I do know a lot of books are banned so it’s unlikely they are still reading the same books now.
Thank you!

Hi everyone (sorry for the incoming long post)
I am trying to help a friend recover a list of books that we read in HS. They have a goal of re-reading them all again, but lost track of a good number of them at their former house and can’t find them. They went to school in Fort Bend ISD (Elkins HS) from around 2012-2016 and were in primarily Pre-AP/AP English classes so some of the books came from summer reading as well.
I am a former student of FBISD, but I also was only able to come up with a few books. I’m hoping someone can assist me in this search or if you still have your syllabi from your English classes at a FBISD school that you can share that is even better! Even if you weren’t in AP and have an idea of some books that were read during that time that would still be helpful. Additionally, I’m sure other schools in other districts in the houston area may have similar readings as well so I would love your input as well!
Some books that we were able to remembebooks that they still have that might help jog your memory are: The Scarlet Letter; Lord of the Flies; Speak; Bless me, Ultima; All the Pretty Horses; A Farewell to Arms; 1984; A Brave New World; Of Mice and Men; As I lay Dying; and Fahrenheit 451.
If you happen to work at Fort Bend ISD school and have a current list of readings that match some of my list I would appreciate if you could share, however, I do know a lot of books are banned so it’s unlikely they are still reading the same books now.
Thank you!

Hi everyone (sorry for the incoming long post)
I am trying to help a friend recover a list of books that we read in HS. They have a goal of re-reading them all again, but lost track of a good number of them at their former house and can’t find them. They went to school in Fort Bend ISD (Elkins HS) from around 2012-2016 and were in primarily Pre-AP/AP English classes so some of the books came from summer reading as well.
I am a former student of FBISD, but I also was only able to come up with a few books. I’m hoping someone can assist me in this search or if you still have your syllabi from your English classes at a FBISD school that you can share that is even better! Even if you weren’t in AP and have an idea of some books that were read during that time that would still be helpful. Additionally, I’m sure other schools in other districts in the houston area may have similar readings as well so I would love your input as well!
Some books that we were able to remembebooks that they still have that might help jog your memory are: The Scarlet Letter; Lord of the Flies; Speak; Bless me, Ultima; All the Pretty Horses; A Farewell to Arms; 1984; A Brave New World; Of Mice and Men; As I lay Dying; and Fahrenheit 451.
If you happen to work at Fort Bend ISD school and have a current list of readings that match some of my list I would appreciate if you could share, however, I do know a lot of books are banned so it’s unlikely they are still reading the same books now.
Thank you!

Fantasy: - "The old, weathered map led them deep into the heart of an ancient forest."
Science Fiction: - "The hum of the spaceship's engines signaled the beginning of their journey across the stars."
Mystery: - "The anonymous letter held a cryptic message that hinted at long-buried secrets." . Romance: - "In the midst of a bustling café, their eyes met, sparking a connection neither could ignore."
Horror: - "The eerie silence of the abandoned house was shattered by an inexplicable whisper."
Historical Fiction: - "Amidst the turmoil of wartime, an unexpected friendship formed between sworn enemies."
Thriller: - "A sudden knock at the door shattered the quiet evening, bringing with it an unexpected threat."
Adventure: - "The discovery of a hidden treasure map set them on a thrilling expedition across uncharted lands."
Dystopian: - "Under the oppressive regime, a small act of defiance sparked a rebellion no one saw coming."
. Comedy: - "The disastrous dinner party started with a burnt soufflé and ended in a chaotic food fight."

Dear X,
Thank you for everything. Thank you for coming to my life. A year knowing you is one thing I feel grateful in my entire life. I learned and experienced so many things. But I know that maybe we have to go on different paths. Living without you is painful, but staying with you is going to hurt me more. I don’t want to say that you deserve better, it is me who deserves better. Someone told me about the 3 loves theory. And you are my second love theory, so I am optimistic that I am going to meet my third love and it’s going to be my last, more powerful and he’s the one was meant for me. I have accepted that we have no chance to be together, and I have let you go. Go find your happiness because that’s what I do too, find my own peace, happiness, and freedom. That’s my life purpose before I met you and I will chase them again.
I will write more letters for you, but you’ll never read it. I will destroy all the letters I write to someone dear to me while I am on holiday in Bali next month, including my letters for you. You are my past, I will treasure my happy moments with you in my heart, but it will never affect me anymore. I’m ready to face my life ahead. My peace, happiness, and freedom are waiting for me, and I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for too in life.
Good luck and farewell my dear. If you have a time, I hope you’ll think of me. I present the song “think of me” as a goodbye and “my heart will go on” as a reminder of our love.
Your dearest best friend, V

Hey people,
I have a tough situation that i'm going through right now and i could use some advice to see if things can be mended or if this is not possible. This is going to be a very long one, my apologies....Even with all this, it does not contain half of the whole story. (sorry for the spelling errors, English is not my frist language)
Short background: i live in Europe and she lives in the U.S. we were planning on moving in together in my country due to family/friend issues that she had in the U.S. and after being here she found that my country felt more like home than her home. We were set to get married this year and had everything planned out. She would take her 3 dogs and her cat with her, work or study here and we would settle here. It would be a little bit of a tough start, but we would figure it out. We both had a little worry for our finances but it would be okay eventually.
pregnancy and panick: In late january of this year we found out that my then fiance was pregnant with our child. At that time i panicked over it because of the situation we were in at the time. In short, neither of us owned a house, i did not own a car, she had substantial debt to pay off, there would be 4 pets, a wife and now also a child under my responsibility and it scared the shit out of me. I'm absolutely not proud of what i did and ashamed of my behavior, but what i proceeded to do over the span of a whole weekend was the following: ask if she would be willing to go for an abortion multiple times, drink a bottle of wine and get intoxicated, buy a pack of sigarettes (i don't smoke), and basically just act inconsiderate and like a total ass.
After the weekend where i had my tantrum, i head her cry over the phone and it woke me up from my stupid behavior and i realized (too late) that i royally screwed up. I apologized for it and we talked about how angry she was and rightfully so. In that moment, again, i started to do things i shouldn't have done by: continuesly try to talk about it, fix it, and not give her space where she needed space. All i did was say "sorry sorry sorry please forgive me, sorry sorry sorry". That again, is not the way to go about it. She did ask me to fly to the u.s. to talk face to face so i booked plane tickets that same day for the next week. After 3/4 more days of that i pulled myself together (again...too late) and sent her a message stating that i know what i have done and been doing is wrong and i have a lot of difficulty not trying to fix it because i knew i messed up and hurt her and from that day i would just leave her be and not talk. Finally giving her the space she needs from me.
Anger and breakup: After all of the above in the weekend that followed, she called me and said that she had an amazing time together, but she did not see a future with me at this time. We had a long phone call about it and se said that if i were to come over to the U.S. for that week, that would be up to me but that is where she stands. So that is what i did, i came over to the U.S. and she said that we will spend this week getting to "re-know" eachother. She did say that we were still in a relationship and still engaged...which i found odd to hear but i was happy about it nonetheless. In this week i made sure to take a moment every day to sit her down somewhere and simply take a moment to apologize for my behvior and that i am incredibly sorry for what i have done. We went out to dinner a few times and just talked about everything. Though in the end it led to the same result, she did not see a future with me. I had tried a last time to have a conversation about it, but she gave me back the engagement ring and said no. Hurt by this, i went out for a long walk and just breathed and accepted that i screwed it up and went back to her saying that she is right, i will give her the space she asks for and let her go. She became angry and sad over this and said that she had just went through the fase of dealing with the breakup and now i am making her do that all over again, she started packing up all my gifts and gave it back to me. I did not understand that and am still a little confused about it. The day after, i had my flight back home and she dropped me off at the airport. she said that "despite how it looks, she still loves me" to which i said that i love her too. We hugged and siad goodbye and i left.
Back home week 1: In the first week, she had told me that i could call her 20 times a day and she would still pick up her phone. We can talk to eachother and we still love eachother and want the best for eachother. She kept me updated about the child and i was happy to simply talk to her and hear her say that she loves me. She had planned to talk to a pastor from her church which did couples counseling and wanted to first do this by herself and then together with me (over skype or zoom etc.). She gave me a book called "how to be the love you seek" and said i could listen to it on her spotify because that is exactly how she identifies and she relates a lot to this book, so i started to give it a listen and took notes of everything i thought was important. We made a plan t odiscuss teh book together over the phone soon and go over the notes that i made. We were broken up but there was hope.
week 2/3: I tried not to text her too often anymore and said that i am available at any time should she need me and will give her the space she asked for by not constantly texting. After a few days she was becoming more agitated and short in her responses. My words were often twisted in to something negative and they constantly made her angry. I didn't understand what was going on, but i thought she was angry and just wanted me to know. We had planned a phone call to discuss the book one weekend and the phone call started off by her telling me "i asked for space and it's not being respected". We taked about everything for a moment and then ended it where i told her that i love her and she said "good to hear". She said that she didn't want to say anything she didn't mean. After a week we texted a few times a day, but barely anything, just a good morning, baby update, and goodnight. I would check in on how she was doing, and that is it. I didn't know what to do or say anymore because for some reason everything was mkaing her angry regardless of what i say, and so i tried not to text her unless she texts me.
week 4 end of conversation: In the first week of march, she had her appointment with her pastor, where she would talk about us, but as she said "not in theway that i think she was going to talk about us". After the conversation she wanted to discuss it with me. though the day she had the conversation she texted me and said "i do not feel ready for a conversation, i will let you know when i am." and she asked me to make bulletpoints for the conversation. I was also not allowed to speak to her cousin anymore as she was trying to be a "middleman" for the both of us, but my ex wanted to have all the conversations between the two of us. i told her that i will do that, and i told her i also started therapy. Yet that was the last thing i have heard from her untill 2 months later.
2 monts of silence and my letters: Whle not speaking to her for 2 months I had been going to therapy twice a week and sought help for why i reacted the way that i did. I had time to reflect and started to slowly piece together a better mindset. I had noticed in the mean time that she had deleted me from social media and deleted some of the piutres she had of us. then later on deleted everything and started selling her engagement dress and date dresses she had bought and finally blocked me from social media entirely.
Late april, i thought it would be a good idea to send her a letter instead of a text. i had written page after page where i had written down the many things that i did wrong and how much shame i feel for it. In the end i realized that i was simply doing too much again and i decided to send her an envelope with 2 letters. 1 containing the many letters combined, and 1 containing a single letter that simply said (summarized) "i am sorry, i will be there for you whenever you need me, you don't have to do life on your own". She did not react to it and 2 weeks later i sent her a text asking how she was doing and if she recieved the letters. she responded by saying she did and she has been sitting with the content they contained. I offered that if there is anything she needs, she can let me know and she said "i am torn between wanting to just update you on everything but a bigger part of me is still hurt and trust entirely broken". I told her she can take all the time she needs, there's no need to pressure anything, and i will just be here if she needs anything.
She said what i can do to help is this: Be respectul, respect her boundaries, respect her wishes, and financial support. I said i can do all of that, though due to circumstances (i bought a house and a car) money is tight right now and i can't do anything right now at this moment. She said that confused her, she had no words for it and it was a good idea to stop the conversation for the day and she will let me know when she is ready to talk. that is the last i have heard from her since 2 weeks ago.
Outlook: Let me make this very clear, i know i have messed up very very badly, you don't have to tell me that. Though i would like to know what other people's take is on this situation on the future and if there are thing i could possibly do to regain the ability to talk to her so that i can support her and my child in any way that i can. If the relationship can be saved, that would be my dream, however supporting them is my number 1 priority regardless of the relationship.
TL;DR: I aboslutely destroyed my engagement by acting like an idiot for a whole damn weekend when finding out my fiance was pregnant. She broke up with me and now we have no communication whatsoever for months on end.

I met Luna on a train two years ago. I’d just escaped from a toxic relationship, so romance was the last thing on my mind, but then she sat across from me in the carriage and asked about the book I was reading. She had a copy in her bag and wanted to know if it was any good.
I'd never felt such an instant, effortless connection with anybody before. I took a chance and asked her to dinner, and by the time the waiters cleared away our desserts, I already felt comfortable being vulnerable around her. So we went on a second date. And a third. And next thing I knew, we were planning our second anniversary.
In all that time she never gave off any 'creeper' vibes. Until a few months ago, when I stayed the night over at her place...
She'd gotten up early to use the bathroom. I grabbed her laptop off the side desk so I could catch up on some work e-mails, and the incognito tab was just sitting there. My first thought was: either she's having an affair or she's got a secret fetish.
What I found instead was a Google account with a photo album called ‘Michael’s EX’. In it, there were 427 photos of my former girlfriend turned psycho stalker, Sadie. This included shots of ‘Sadie the stalker’ with her family, screenshots of her passport—the works. On Facebook, Sadie's latest post said Moving to the Philippines, and since then she’d become a social media church mouse, so how did Luna keep her under surveillance? And how did you even get PERSONAL ID from a person halfway across the globe?
Down the hall, I heard the bathroom door swing open. Quickly I closed the laptop and pretended to be asleep until Luna planted a kiss on my lips. “Wakey wakey Bugs.”
I faked a stretch. “Morning Lola."
(At school, the other kids christened me ‘Bugs’ because of my cartoonishly large front teeth; I called Luna ‘Lola’ because of her blonde bangs and heart-shaped face.)
“How about we grab a fry for breakfast?” Her smile didn’t seem genuine, more like she was wearing a mask.
“Crap. I forgot I’m doing overtime today, I’ve gotta get to work.” With that, I shot out of there faster than a bullet train to Tokyo.
Because I didn’t wanna believe the worst about someone I cared so deeply about, I didn’t contact the police (not that anybody could’ve guessed what Luna was up to) and made excuses whenever she asked to meet, delaying the decision whether to end our relationship.
At night, I couldn’t sleep. Every time a hedge rustled outside, I’d run to the window and pull back the curtain only to discover a black cat skulking around the garden. I put this down to my previous relationship leaving me with a mountain of unresolved PTSD.
Sadie the stalker also seemed normal until we moved in together. After that she started picking fights if she caught me talking to another woman, even just distant relatives or childhood friends. The screaming matches went from weekly to nightly, only ever ending when I conceded to her every wish and gave her full access to my phone and social media accounts. I literally needed to grab my clothes into a bag and run away one night, and then I started hearing noises outside my new apartment. And although I never found any evidence, I was pretty sure she’d broken in at one point because the books on my side table were suddenly out of order one day. What hurt the most was Luna knew all this and still acted the way she did.
Right as I reached my lowest point, my close friend Gertrude called and said, “The universe is telling me you could use a sympathetic ear.”
I told her the universe didn’t know the half of it.
I’d met Gertrude—aka my surrogate mother—on a flight to London. Passing over Wales the aircraft hit heavy turbulence, and the grey-haired hippie in the seat next to mine squeezed my hand so tight that my fingers turned blue. After we levelled off, she apologized and said, “So what’s calling you to London?”
“A job.”
A few glasses of wine from the service trolley later, she blurted out, “You know your aura is strikingly similar to my husbands.”
“Uhh, thanks. Where is he now?”
“Oh, he burned to death in a house fire.”
Gertrude’s eyes started welling up. To take her mind off the subject, I said, “I lied earlier. I’m going to London because I fell in love with a Londoner.” I pulled up pictures of Sadie (back in her pre-stalker days) on my phone. “We met in Italy. She looked flustered trying to read a map book so I offered to help. Next thing I knew, we were planning a trip to this place called Orvieto.”
“Michael, I need to know how this story ends. Gimme your number.”
Since then, we’d met two or three times a year.
I laid the whole mess out over pizza. It was the first time since finding the Google account I didn’t feel hidden eyes crawling all over me.
Just as I wrapped up the story, over in the corner booth, a family burst into a chorus of happy birthday. A waiter appeared carrying a chocolate cake, capped by a giant candle that looked more like a flare. Gertrude tensed up.
“So what do you think about all this?” I asked.
She looked back at me and said, “It’s possible your reaction has been a touch on the dramatic side.”
“DRAMATIC??”
“Well consider things from Luna’s point of view. Your last relationship lasted for, what, three years? Maybe she felt threatened.”
“I don’t believe this.” I grabbed a cigarette from my pocket, but Gertrude snatched it away.
“You know how I feel about you poisoning your lungs, Michael.”
“Don’t you start. I got enough of that crap from Luna.”
Gertrude always encouraged me to work through my romantic problems. Ultimately, I decided her love of fairytale romances clouded her judgement and ghosted Luna instead. But I couldn’t escape her shadow. She always felt close. In fact, it got so bad that at a friend’s costume party several weeks later, my eyes kept compulsively scanning the crowd as if she was there in disguise, ready to pounce.
I stood off to the corner until, over the sea of heads, I spotted a beautiful stranger dressed as Jarlath the Goblin King. I took a shot of liquid courage and made a B-line towards her.
Halfway across the crowded room, beer splashed across the front of my Ziggy Stardust outfit.
“I am so sorry,” a female pirate said, patting me dry.
“Don’t worry about it.” Every time I tried circling her, she moved to cut me off.
“I am such a klutz. Why don’t you come into the kitchen so I can clean up this mess?”
I put my hands on her shoulders and steered her out of the way. “It’s fine. Trust me.”
Approaching Jarlath from behind, heart slamming against my chest, I said, “Well this is awkward. One of us is gonna have to change.”
Jennie had bright blue eyes and dimples impossible to miss. Ten minutes into our debate about David Bowie’s greatest album, I said, “You know Absolute Bowie are playing the Half Moon next week. I could take you?”
“Sorry. I’m going with my boyfriend,” she said with a sympathetic smile. From beside the buffet table, the pirate stared daggers in our direction.
“No worries,” I replied, despite the fact I was brimming with jealousy.
The next day, as I jogged off my hangover, a brown-haired lady cut across my path and we both went spinning to the ground.
“Flip, sorry.” I rushed to pull her up by the hands. “I’m like a bloody zombie lately.”
She did a doubletake. “Ziggy, right?”
There was no mistaking those eyes. “Jarlath?”
“Well, Jarlath or Jennie. Eithers fine.”
“Right. Well, sorry again. Enjoy Absolute Bowie.”
Before I could jog away, she said, “Hey, so that guy I was seeing? Turns out he’s a total prick.”
Jennie and I went for coffee. Coffee morphed into drinks. Drinks morphed into a steamy make-out session on my sofa.
But as she covered my neck in soft kisses, my stomach turned. It felt like cheating. So, I put the brakes on things and said, “I can’t do this. I’m really sorry. You’re amazing, but I just got out of a serious relationship…and…it’s just…”
“Hey, don’t worry about it.”
We agreed we’d let our connection blossom in its own time.
Jennie had a playful mystique to her. Within a handful of dates, we’d developed inside jokes and could tell what the other was thinking. But Luna’s imprint was hard to shake, to the extent I almost mixed up the two ladies’ names multiple times.
To detox, I suggested Jennie and I spend a romantic weekend in the Lake District, because after two days of hiking and kayaking my ex would no doubt be a spec in the rearview mirror.
Hours before we set off, however, Luna’s mom called. She wanted to meet and wouldn’t accept any excuses.
“Look, it’s obvious why I’m here,” she said, sitting across from me in Starbucks. “Ever since you and Luna broke up, she’s been acting…different.”
“Different? Different how?”
“I call but she hardly answers. I go over to her place but she’s never there. Now she’s telling me she needs to find herself. Says she’s moving to Australia.”
Her fingers tightened around her cup. “I need to know what happened between you two. And I don’t care if that paints anybody in a bad light. I’m just worried about my daughter is all.”
I told her about the Google account.
“Did you confront her about it?”
“Hell no. I ghosted that crazy bitc—” I cleared my throat. “I mean, I just…stopped seeing her.”
She started crying so loudly customers at nearby tables paused their conversations. I touched her forearm, promised I’d call if I remembered anything else, then set off for my romantic weekend.
But while Jennie and I enjoyed all that fresh air and pub food, a thought nagged at me. Luna adored London, so why move to Australia? It seemed so out of character. Back at our rented cottage, I was so fixated on the thought I needed a smoke, badly.
“What the hell is that?” Jennie demanded, as she stepped onto the front deck.
I glanced at my hands. “Uhh, a cigarette.”
“Michael! Don’t be sarcastic. You know how I feel about those things.”
“…Do I?”
“Uhh, well it’s the same as anybody else. Quit poisoning your lungs and put that thing out.”
“Alright alright, geeze. Sorry Luna.”
“That’s okay.”
A knot formed in my stomach as she went back inside. I’d called Jennie Luna by mistake. And she hadn’t noticed. In fact, her reaction to me smoking was identical to Luna’s—even the snappy way she said the ‘poison your lungs’ line.
I followed Jennie into the lounge, where she’d curled up on an armchair with a Colleen Hoover novel. She was hiding something. What else did she know about Luna? Maybe I could trick her into revealing some details…
From behind, I started massaging her shoulders. “Sorry for being rude before. I know what you said came from a place of love.”
“That’s okay.”
I waited until her eyes drooped shut, then said, “It really is perfect here, huh? Maybe we should stay forever.”
“Wouldn’t that be amazing?”
Her little groans of pleasure, the rhythm of her breathing, it all felt so familiar. I waited until the tension in her neck dissolved, then I pushed my lips against her ear and whispered, “So how about we take this into the bedroom…Lola.”
“Hmm. Sure thing Bugs.”
My hands froze. Jennie jumped up. “Uhh, that felt so good, why’d you stop?”
“What did you just say?”
“What did you just say?”
“I called you Lola,” I replied, my arms frozen in midair. “And you called me bugs.”
“Like the cartoon, right? I thought it’d be a cute nickname. Anyway, I’m tuckered out.” She forced a yawn. “Why don’t we get some sleep?”
As her hand laced with mine, an image of me waking up drugged and gagged and tied to the bedposts flashed before my eyes.
I said, “Sure. I just…need to use the bathroom first.”
The second the door shut behind me, I flew out of the house, climbed in my car, and sped away.
Within seconds my phone started blowing up with calls, followed by texts. Where are you going? Is everything okay?
No, I wanted to reply. I’m onto your sick little game. Whatever it is, I’m onto it.
Luna stalked my stalker, now Jennie somehow knew Luna and I’s nicknames. How? Did all women take turns drawing straws and whoever picked the short one needed to become my girlfriend?
I couldn’t go home. For all I knew, my exes would’ve been there burning effigies of me. I needed a safe place. Somewhere I could lie low until I got all this straightened out.
“Of course you can stay,” Gertrude said over the phone. “I’m out with some friends, but I’ll meet you later. If you hop the side gate there’s a spare key under the kissing gnomes out back.”
Gertrude lived in a detached house in Wembley. It took a bit of foraging to find the gnomes hidden beneath the weeds in the brown, patchy garden.
I needed to shoulder the door open. Inside, a mountain of letters and flyers had piled up on the welcome mat.
Down the hall, a huge archway connected the landing with a lounge, where a bar sat against the far wall, surrounded by upholstered sofas, a low table, and tie dye sheets strung over the filthy carpet. Everything had a real elegant vibe, despite the musty air.
I’d drained two glasses of whiskey before Gertrude arrived.
“Looks like you’ve had a rough evening.”
I said we could talk in the morning.
“Not a chance. You can’t take negative energy to bed. Come on, confession is good for the soul.”
She sat on the sofa and patted the empty seat next to her. So, with a weary sigh, I shared a tale of deranged exes.
“Crazy,” she said.
“I sure can pick ‘em, huh?”
“No, I mean you’re crazy.”
“What?”
“Think about it. What’s more likely: that your ex’s are secretly in collusion, or you’re being paranoid? Look how bloodshot your eyes are. When’s the last time you got a good night’s rest?”
She made a great point; teenagers on the street occasionally shouted ‘Bugs’ or ‘Thumper’ at me. Jennie might’ve come up with the nickname herself. I pinched the bridge of my nose, groaning.
“Look, sleep here tonight. Tomorrow we’ll brainstorm ways you can make it up to Jennie.”
I fumbled through my pockets for a cigarette.
“Really?” Gertrude said. “If you insist on poisoning your lungs, can you at least do it away from my home?”
“Well if I can’t smoke, I’m gonna need a refill.” I shook my empty glass.
On my way toward the bar, a wave of wooziness hit me. My first instinct was to blame it on the alcohol, but there was something else.
It was her reaction to the cigarette. My finger ran through the thick layer of dust along the bar’s countertop. Why was it like the place had been abandoned? Why did Gertrude always pressure me to stay with my psycho girlfriends? And how come she always reached out, as if on cue, whenever my relationships hit problems? It couldn’t be coincidence…
I poured two glasses of whiskey and carried them to the sofa. “So, you’re really against the whole smoking thing, huh?”
“Of course. It’s a filthy habit.”
“Yeah. Plus, there was that mess with your husband. House fire, right?”
“I’d rather not discuss it.”
“Sure, sure.” I ignited the lighter with a roll across my trouser leg.
Gertrude grabbed a cushion and hugged it. “What are you doing?”
“Alright, cut the crap. What the hell’s going on? Have you been sending your friends to date me?”
“What are you talking about?”
I wrestled the cushion from her and held the lighter beneath it. “I want an explanation right now or I’m torching this place.”
This was an empty threat. I wasn’t some pyromaniac—I just wanted answers. Inch by inch, I raised the flame. “Last chance. Why are the women in my life acting weird?”
Gertrude grabbed for the lighter. As I swatted her wrists away, we both got scorched, and for a moment her skin went wild with spasms, a sensation I can only compare to reaching inside a bucket of wet, writhing maggots. My gaze whipped between her face and her hands, which vibrated like plucked guitar strings.
Before I could scream, she yanked me up, clamped a cold, wrinkled palm across my mouth, and forced me against the wall. I thrashed around, unable to move. For a lady old enough to collect a pension, she was crazy strong.
She waited until I ran out of breath, then said, “Michael, please. I’m not going to hurt you. Open your heart and listen.”
What else could I do?
“You were right before. I have been keeping a secret from you. The truth is, I’ve been in love with you since we met. I’d never flown before. And you were so so sweet. You started talking about this other woman, but I knew our energies were perfect for each other. And it’s like I always say, love makes us do crazy things. You can’t begrudge me that can you?”
She looked as if she expected me to respond, so I shook my head.
“But I think we’ve reached a point where our connection is so deep we can be completely transparent with one another.” She took a slow, steady breath. “Michael, all your ex’s, Luna, Sadie, Jennie. They’ve all been…well, me.”
I stared at her, confused.
She sighed. “It’ll be easier if I just show you.”
Out of nowhere her hand wriggled again, then her face tightened, as though the skin was being stretched over the bone. Wrinkles smoothed out and colour bled into her grey hair, turning it brown, and within seconds I found myself face-to-face with Jennie. Even her vintage clothes morphed into a green blouse and white slacks.
“See?” she said in Jennie’s voice, her now blue eyes locked on mine.
I screamed into the soft flesh of her palm.
“Sssh, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Watch.”
Her entire body jerked and twitched, the muscles spasming as she shifted from Jennie to Luna. “See? Think of these as costumes”—from Luna to Sadie—"the important thing is what’s underneath. And you’ve fallen in love with what’s underneath three times. Now I’m going to let go, but I need you to promise you won’t overreact. Understand?”
On the verge of a panic attack, I nodded furiously.
The second she pulled away I made a break for the exit. The thing posing as Sadie grabbed me and hurled me backwards against the wall.
Like a disappointed teacher, she put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been so patient with you, Michael. So very, very patient.”
She blocked off any hope of escape. I sidestepped around the outer edge of the room, towards the bar.
“All those years moulding you. Trying to grow you into the man I know you can be. I really thought we had it this time. For the record, I wanted to do this the easy way. But drastic times...”
I was so scared I slammed right into the cabinet and yelped. Glass bottles chattered together, and then something wet ran down the back of my shirt. It was whiskey, leaking from the overturned bottle onto the carpeted floor.
Speaking more to herself now, Gertrude said, “I’ll just have to keep you here until you love me as much as I love you. Of course, that means posing as you so nobody gets suspicious, but that’s no trouble. I’ll tell your dad you’re moving to Italy. You always loved Italy.”
Pose as me? She'd been killing my ex's and taking their place, I was just the latest in a long line. She’d keep me as a personal sugar baby if I didn’t escape, but how? She was impossibly strong, and the only thing that seemed to scare her was…
Snatching the bottle, I doused the remaining whiskey all over the carpet and furniture. As I flicked the lighter open, Sadie’s hands shot up.
“Bugs…darling…what are you doing?”
I took three slow, steady breaths. “Breaking up with you, you crazy bitch.”
I tossed the lighter forward. Within seconds flames sprung up all around us, spreading as far as the sofa. Sadie’s shoe caught fire, and as she stamped around, unintentionally fanning the blaze, her body writhed again, starting with the ankles. Fat boils climbed up every inch of exposed skin, milky white and with the consistency of frog spawn, like she’d had a killer allergic reaction to poison ivy.
She dropped to her knees, wailing like a wounded animal. This was my chance.
I made a break for the exit, giving the creature as wide a berth as possible. But as I got one foot planted in the hall something clamped tight around my ankles. My chin hit the floor, then I started sliding backwards.
I twisted onto my back. Where Sadie’s left arm should’ve been, a tentacle-like appendage stretched across the length of the room, a distance of over twenty feet. It reeled me toward her like a fish on a line. Whatever that thing was no longer looked human. It melted like an ice statue, with no bones or connective tissue inside, its lips nose and mouth becoming hideously elongated before dripping off in huge globs like melted candlewax. A fire alarm started wailing as the tentacle dragged me through the flames, scorching my arms and legs.
The loose mass of skin reached out and encased me like a mother bird sheltering its eggs.
“WHY WON’T YOU LOVE ME?” all my ex’s voices screamed at once. Whichever direction I looked, silhouettes of faces rose and fell, as if trying to burst through. Parts of them dripped inside my mouth, disgustingly warm with a bitter taste worse than Vaseline.
I put everything into clawing my way out if there. What was left of the beast had the consistency of wet clay and came apart just as easily. I tore away chunks until there was a hole large enough to squeeze through. Then, I crawled along surrounded by black smoke.
At the far side of the room I risked a glance back and saw a bumpy, uneven hand reaching out of a puddle of ooze. Soon I was crawling over the bristly welcome mat, then fumbling for the door. All I remember after that are paramedics wrestling me into an ambulance…
A specialist officer came to see me at the hospital the next morning. They’d been unable to contact the homeowner, Gertrude Huyton, and through his line of questioning I could tell they hadn’t found her ‘remains’ inside the charred house. Like the wicked witch of the West, my stalker had melted. I told the officer she said I could stay the night, and that I probably started the fire by dropping a cigarette.
“In that case, we’ll keep trying to reach her.” He walked to the curtain surronding my bed and paused. “Oh, and I almost forgot to mention, her cat is missing.”
“Her...cat?”
“Yeah. The little black one. One of the firemen pulled it out of the wreckage. The poor thing had burns over its legs but it ran off before anybody could take it to the vet.”
I swallowed a gulp and thanked him for telling me.
And now I’m still sitting here listening while nurses rush back and forth, terrified any one of them might be Gertrude…

I had a strange relationship with deconstruction as my dad was trained at a university level to do apologetics. He was an LDS chaplain in the Army, and every night for scripture study, we got discourses on the nuances of our faith and justifications for every question we ever had. I didn’t swear until I was 18 years old, or drink caffinated anything until about that time as well, because it was never a matter of justification. It was what my family, my tribe, my people did, to go to church on Sunday, and to be worthy. I was senior patrol leader and assistant to the bishop if that clarifies who I was. I didn’t have “God will reveal it in due time” parents. I had “Here’s the answer, here’s contemporary discussion about it. Here’s some reading material if you want to learn more” parents, except for they were wicked smart, and had biased conclusions.
I was called to serve in the Mexico City East mission. Shortly before opening my mission call, I broke up with my girlfriend at the time. i left BYU-I and went home to prepare. I received my endowments after lying to my stake president about my worthiness to enter the house of the lord. I came clean, and he threatened to not let me go out for a year because I was unclean. The prick made me talk to a therapist to be cleared for the mission field. The therapist had a brain and let me go out. When I was giving my mission farewell speech, I wrote it to include the teachings of many religions in it. I had drawn inspiration from the 13th article of faith “We believe all things, hope all things-“ and wrote a poem about how Adam and Eve related to the Resurection and Atonement of christ. My dad tells me the stake president was shifting in his seat like he wanted to pull me down from the pulpit. Prick.
The CCM was a pleasure to attend because of my district. The guys in my district there held a secret thanksgiving feast after hours when we were supposed to be in bed with food we had smuggled out of the cafeteria. We had look outs so we wouldn’t be caught by the patrolling teachers. My district was placed under surveillance because of politics against our spanish teacher who we could tell actually cared about us, and we were transferred into a classroom with one sided mirrors, and microphones hanging from the ceiling. An apostle came to speak to the entire CCM, and I thought we would get a chance to meet with him directly, or that he would be even remotely accessible in some way. He was kept away from us, separate and removed even though we had the same mission. I played a lot of volley ball, and got into shape enough that I touched the rim of a basketball hoop for the first time while I was there.
My first companion was a native speaker, and liked to spend the mornings in the cyber (Internet Cafe). He would make sure I was on LDS.org while he looked at softcore porn on instagram. We would spend hours there, and I was disappointed that this was the mission.
We went to a previous investigators house, and while there, we saw preparations for an animal sacrifice. These guys were putting alcohol, cocaine, and blowing smoke onto a white chicken, and placed in into a cardboard box with a bunch of black chickens. They showed us a room full of weapons, with blood and feathers strewn all over the floor. We noped the fuck out, and went home.
I requested an emergency transfer after spending most days in the cyber, watching my companion deface JW’s property, and being an all around dick to me by telling me how to shower and how to sleep.
For his replacement, the person that would help me with his bastion of knowledge, they gave me a white guy who spoke as much Spanish as I did because he was only a transfer further into his mission than me. They made this poor kid senior companion to me before his first transfer was over. Why? Because the kid was a workaholic.
The first thing this elder and I did when we got to our apartment was to pick up and leave to go to the house of a member who had just died. We sang at the wake. I sang in a language I didn’t know, for people I didn’t know, with a companion I didn’t know. We sounded pretty damn good. The elder began setting appointments with the non-believing family members during the service. I just sat and watched the mindless kids chase the family dog.
This elder skipped lunch every day, and made me do the same. We knocked every door in our area twice that transfer. One time, he got very sick, and was delirious out in the sun with me while we were walking. I made us go home for lunch that day, and he made me promise to wake him up after thirty minutes so we could get back to the Lord’s work. Three hours later he woke up, chewed me out for letting him sleep that long, and then begrudgingly thanked me for making him rest.
One time, while walking, this Elder expressed to me that he also had some questions, but he was afraid to share the details because he knew my own testimony was fragile. I pressed him for details of his plight, and he revealed to me the darkest part of church history that he had learned while we were in the CCM, that Joseph Smith had drank alcohol while in Carthage Jail before he died. Thoughts of Fanny Alger, of Mountain Meadows Massacre, and of my own mother’s rather recently implemented looser interpretation of the word of wisdom all flashed through my head. This guy was supposed to be my teacher? All I could do was express how sorry I was for his confusion, and told him to have faith. Heaven knew I couldn’t help him.
One night with this companion, it was storming hard, and the streets were flooded. This guy refused to let us go home. We climbed along fences to avoid getting our already wet shoes soaked, and waded through a foot of water to get to the doors that were slammed in our faces. There was a loose wire on a door bell, and when I rang it, I was shocked by the completed circuit the water made. Rejection after rejection piled up. Finally, my “senior” companion said that this was the last row of houses. On the last house of the last row, there was a family that was all deaf. The father opened the door, and was suprised to see us and didn’t know who we were. I remembered the sign for Jesus from my grandparents who started and ran the ASL endowment ceremony in the Saint George temple. The family was thrilled we knew the sign. When I asked if we could come in, the family politely waved goodbye and closed the door on our faces.
Another time when it rained, something fell into my eye. It was one of those freak nature accidents, and small enough that I couldn’t figure out how to get it out without a mirror. The thing stayed wedged in the corner of my eye for hours before we got home and I could finally get the foreign object out. Looking at it on my finger, I could see it was a small green spider. Days later, still in pain, I pulled what I can only assume was accumulated webbing from the spider that I’d crushed against my eyeball off of my lower eye lid. The pain stopped after that.
I bought a $500 camera. It was stolen within a month.
This Elder and I had the good luck before transfers to baptize two children. They would have been baptized anyways, so I didn’t do any actual converting, but I taught a few lessons, got in the water and did the dunk. Bucket list item, check.
I didn’t have enough time for laundry on P-Day, so I’d wash my outfit and dry in on the radiator through the night. Transfers happen, and my new companion lied to our land lords about the electricity bill, paying it in full but not giving a reason as to why it was so high. I didn’t care anymore, I just needed something clean to wear, but these land lord had treated me and my previous companion well, better than the previous landlord who had stolen our cleaning supplies. I felt these people deserved honesty. My senior companion capitulated eventually, and he and I butted heads regularly after that on the morality of things. I think in hindsight he was a smarter and better man than I was.
The new land lords, the “Lagunez Family”, were wonderful. They included us in their activities, and I felt like I had some people in my corner. When I eventually came home from my mission, a daughter of the family had written me a goodbye letter. She is currently serving a mission. They made some great music, and I have “Infiltradors” on CD, the official name of the band the father of the family was a part of (he was the drummer).
I knew the whole area by heart by that point, so I navigated us to our appointments. Half of the landmarks I watched for to know our location were interesting buildings with unique colors. The other half of my landmarks were dead dogs whose decaying corpses had become second nature to see. I began marking how much time had passed by how deeply a certain dog on a certain dirt path’s chest was caved in.
There was an apartment complex in my area that I had been told not to proselytize in because “It’s dangerous.” Turns out, those people didn’t have any money, so the church didn’t want them. That complex was past the dog and to the east about ten blocks.
My companion and I knocked on a door, and visited a man who was missing his legs. His daughter was there, putting dirty water on the aching wounds. He had a single room for a house, and wheezed when he spoke. He couldn’t afford medication. He still went out and worked all day for his daughter, and gave her whatever money he made, trusting her to keep him alive somehow. The church expected this man to pay tithing. The church expected me to tell this man to pay tithing.
I got the chance to hike up a mountain. At the top, I played chess with a chess set I’d procured from one of the best rapid chess players I’ve ever met. He had been the ward mission leader. He was a good man, a good father, and I wish him the best.
I found another man who was deaf and spoke sign language. I sat with him, and convinced him to come to church all by myself while my companion talked with some tienda tender. I was so excited because this was my own personal project and it was going well. The man came to church, and I sat with him through sacrament meeting. In Sunday school (I can’t believe I did this), I accidentally drooled on the guy. I was just talking so he could read my lips, and I guess I forgot to swallow at some point because a dolup of spit landed on his arm. I apologized profusely, and he played it off, but I never saw that investigator again.
My companion and I knocked a door one day, and a man answered. He wore tattered clothes, and maggots were burrowing into and out of his feet. He muttered something about the stars, missing his wife, and he began to tear up. My eyes stung from the stench. The door closed. Somehow, I knew the man would be dead in a matter of weeks.
I had lost hope that I was doing anything worth while. I looked down on the Doc Martins that had stayed with me five months at this point. I was angry with myself for being so useless in the field, angry with the church for giving me leaders that didn’t listen to my needs or perspective, angry with my mom for drinking while I had to teach people that it was a sin, angry with my dad for giving me the skills and knowledge to justify anything, even pedophilia in the early days of the church, to the point where I could look someone in the eye, and knowing the kind of man Smith was, tell them he was a good man and a true prophet of God. Suddenly a man approached us. He said he recognized us as missionaries, and asked about our message. This never happened. People didn’t just come up to us unless they were crazy or dangerous. But this was a public place, and this guy was genuine. My companion talked to him, and gathered his story, but I was plotting something else. I was done with not caring about these people in a way that mattered. I was tired of walking in another man’s shoes, a man who wasn’t me, who believed different things than me. The chopped leg, the rotting dogs, the infested feet, it all swirled into a single thought in that moment.
What would Jesus do?
I walked over to the man, and in broken Spanish asked him to stand next to me. He did so, and I compared my shoe size to his foot. It was a perfect match. He protested, but I didn’t let him get a word in edge wise. I took off my shoes, put them on his dirty feet, and laced them up nice and tight. Those shoes had cost a ton, and had been meant to last the whole mission. All I had left at this point were my fancy dress shoes that gave my blisters back at the apartment. I didn’t care. I walked home in my socks that day, happy as a lark.
Covid-19 hit a month later. I was one of the few they brought home instead of quarantining. After having served only 6 months. I told God if he wanted me to stay home, he’d have to make them release me.
They released me. I think I was one of maybe a hundred missionaries that were released due to Covid. The church realized their mistake pretty soon after I was released. Once Covid infrastructure began to develop, they didn’t release any more. I guess I didn’t serve a full two years, but I did serve a full mission.
My brother served, and he nearly killed himself due to intense depression brought on by Covid quarantine and poor leadership (I’ve got a few mission president stories, but those are for another time).
I learned lying to someone’s face from my mission, and spent the rest of my time at BYU-I as “nuanced” until the last two years, over which the most epic hoe phase imaginable became my new mission. I spent those years terrified of getting a call from the honor code office.
I’m married now, with my degree irrevocably in my possession. I have friends and loved ones that are in the church and are working on their mission papers. I’m beginning to feel powerless again. I’m seeing the decay again, not on legs, feet, or dogs anymore, but in the souls of the people who the church raises to do their dirty volunteer work. I see them like the animal sacrifices I saw being prepared. I’m not sure what shoes I have left to give to those people that I know are going to be in pain.
My parents are out completely now. It was a long time coming, but they are out and so much happier. I’m working on building a new relationship with my family, one based off of the fact that we won’t be together forever, so we have to make the most of our time together now.
Happy Sunday guys, best of luck to you all. And most importantly, chupa la piña.

More misery bird? More misery bird. Really miserymaxxing with these fics I have going, but hey, this one is not that miserable actually! Krekos is back and ready to be dense and downcast, but maybe not quite miserable? Read and see!
Big thank you to NoP community for being great and supportive of my endeavors!
Also, obviously, big thanks to SpacePaladin15 for creating this universe and allowing fanfiction well to flow free!
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Memory transcription subject: Krekos, Krakotl Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: May 6th, 2137
I stare at the foul creature before me. Normally staring at something directly head on like that would be too predatory for me to do, but after nearly dying of bread yesterday, I didn’t feel patient enough to be gentle. The creature stared right back, though in a much more natural, prey-like way, tilting its head slightly as it looked back at me with one eye and let out a long bwok.
“Are you doing this now? Really?”, I ask, knowing full well it cannot respond.
Well, it can, if another bwok it made is any indication. Of course, translators aren’t yet advanced enough to translate non-sapient speech, but the intention behind sound is intuitively clear. It’s telling me to back off. Well, I tried the diplomatic approach at least.
Raising my wing I begin sliding the bird out of its nest, careful to keep any delicate joints out of its reach. It started clucking in upset indignation, struggling back and even trying to peck at me, but after realizing that I will not relent, it hopped out of the box and rushed out of the cattle house, revealing a single dead egg in the nesting box.
With relief, I finally pick up the last egg and head back to leave them at the house. Turns out that while Reginald didn’t forget to both lock them up yesterday and let them out today, he did neglect feeding them both times, as well as collecting the harvest. So when I was driven back here in early morning, the first thing I did was making sure they were taken care of. I can’t say the horrid birds looked in any way hungry, but the moment I poured the feeding grain for them, they attacked it with more viciousness than I’d expect of an actual predator. And yet only thirteen were present at the feeding, as the one that’s usually the target of flock’s ire remained in the cattle house yet again, Reginald leaving it to it, being unaware of its undesirable habit of trying to hatch dead eggs.
With eggs delivered, I flew my way to my usual spot atop the cattle house and could finally relax. The loner beast first made its way to feast on the scraps of the grain that other birds already all have had their fill of, so I wasn’t too concerned. Instead I tried to reflect on the morning I had so far.
Waking up at the hospital did make me momentarily panic before I remembered the precluding events. Not that I could properly panic, feeling the most starved I’ve been my whole life, and too weak to try flying out of the window. Thankfully, the breakfast they provided was actually well made with krakotl needs in mind, algae soup alongside a few slices of bread, this time without any horrid human ideas like putting eggs in there. Eggs! Turns out they put eggs in some kinds of bread! That’s how I got sick! Eggs! The thought of what I consumed even now made me queasy, and it definitely made breakfast a much less appetizing affair than it would have been without that knowledge, but back then the hunger won over the disgust.
Lena did keep her promise and came to pick me up extra early. Her being a staff member at the hospital gave her some extra privilege, I assume, hence why I was released without any forms needing to be filled out personally. She did have important business today too, which probably explained the earlyness and urgency of her driving me back to her house.
That did not mean I escaped her ire, however. While I couldn’t pinpoint anything to identify the man, as Bob was apparently a common name, that offered me bread, we did come to understanding that he was likely either unaware of the nutritional contents of it, or of extent to which the Cure-induced allergy would be affecting a krakotl. Yet, Lena seemed much angrier at me for failing to take any precautions. Turns out that was the purpose of medicinal injectors, epipens as humans call them, that were provided to me. I was supposed to have them on me in case I accidentally ingested contaminated food. Nobody told me that, I was just handed them back when I first received the necessities at the refugee camp and I had no clue what they were for. Then she also berated me for eating random food from strangers and ignoring bad flavors. Turns out that brioche bread isn’t actually bitter at all, and that was my body reacting to an allergen in it. Reaction that I unwisely elected to ignore, to further ire of my host. By the end, several new rules of my stay here were made, including not eating things I don’t know and always having at least one epipen on me. Thankfully, these rules would be ones I’d start following even without them being established, so I won’t have to concern myself with being kicked out over accidentally breaking them.
As if following the rules will be enough to make them like you.
Trying to distract myself from thoughts of yesterday’s incident, I focused my attention on the flock. All birds accounted for, so at least I knew that my absence did not result in the predator coming to snatch one of them. I do not wish to insult my hosts, but Reginald is far from most attentive people in matters unrelated to his job, and I am not sure the birds were watched at all while I was out. Speaking of, my scannings of surrounding treelines revealed no sign of the predator today. Perhaps it departed to hunt elsewhere, or maybe it ventured too close to a more populated area and exterminators dealt with it.
Actually, did human exterminators work similar to Federation ones? I knew for a fact they had them, although they seemed like a market of private organizations if advertisements are anything to judge by. Still, what methods do they use? I know humans oppose fire, and do not believe in predatory taint, but surely they have measures to protect themselves? They are, by self-admission, far from the best natural predator, and I doubt Earth’s non-sapient predators would just leave humans be. Maybe I should call one of those human exterminator agencies and call them in to deal with that predator? I haven’t told Lena or Reginald about it, as I didn’t want to bother them, but it could pose a serious threat to the cattle, but maybe that’s the way I could resolve it without involving them?
I have not done nearly as much research into human culture and lifestyle as I should have, considering that I’ve lived on Earth for over half a year now, but the sheer width of the topic always overwhelmed me the moment I opened internet search app to the point where I just closed it right away.
And you expect to start studying again with that attitude? You’ll flunk out even from this primitive predator education course.
Extra loud call from the flock made me refocus my attention on them, but it was nothing. Just the loner getting pecked extra hard and lashing out against assailants, causing a small aimless stampede as all the birds ran around in circles, puffing up at one another. The assailants now looked a lot more like victims. I could understand those birds more than I could humans at least. The loner bird is clearly an odd one out. It’s the only one repeatedly trying to hatch unfertilized eggs it lays, and it seems to always avoid the rest of the flock. Humans may deny the existence of Predator Disease, but they can’t deny that prey and predator both can and will sometimes behave in unnatural ways that may threaten the herd's safety. Or pack’s, in case of humans. Birds must know on instinctual level that the loner’s behavior is unnatural and are attempting to combat the Predator Disease on instinctual level. And since that is natural, I still will not interfere in this, unless the loner bird actually becomes a threat to others or will start getting too injured. The first time I attempted to pick one of the birds up was the only time for a good reason, as I have learned their viciousness all too well.
DING-DING
The sudden loud ring startled me enough that I nearly tumbled off the roof. Who would be coming over now? Lena and Reginald have left together and shouldn’t be back until afternoon, and they’d never use the bell. That means someone must be here for them. But wouldn’t they warn anyone to not come over? Especially with their plans for today.
With nobody to answer these questions, I had no choice but to go and discover the answer myself, flying up and over the house, towards the entrance gate. The moment I passed the house roof, I already saw a familiar silhouette. It was the human child from a few days ago.
Thankfully, Lena’s insistence on me carrying an epipen at all times meant I also carried my satchel at all times too, so I didn’t have to go grabbing my holopad, and took it out. But before I could even launch the translator TTS app to type out a greeting, the child was already hopping in place with excitement.
“Mr. Krekos! Hi! I came over to visit!”, she exclaimed, showing off her teeth in an unnerving expression of human joy. I simply tried to avoid that and focused on the pad, typing out my response.
“Hello, Rosie. Why are you here?”
The question was genuine, as the child was not carrying any more of that honey substance from last time.
“I just came over to visit you! Is that okay? Are Mr. and Ms. Vince okay with it?”
Visit... me? Why? While I was confused, I did instinctively type out a reply.
“They did tell me visitors are allowed as long as there’s no trouble when I first moved in.”
And before I could type a followup message asking her why she’s here, she already let out a joyous roar and ran past me.
“Can I see the chickens?”, she asked, and not waiting for an answer, rushed past the house and towards the cattle yard.
“Wait! You’ll scare them!”, I yell after her, but of course without a translator she can’t understand me as she runs like she already knows where to go.
And indeed she has, quickly rushing up to the open field where the birds were grazing. Thankfully she didn’t start chasing them, instead just approaching the flock from a distance and swaying in place, watching them with what I assume was some sort of predatory excitement at the sight of prey. Maybe that’s where the contained hunting instinct of human children showed themselves? In chasing small birds? I was still more subdued, considering she stopped shy of causing a small stampede, but still.
“Grandpa used to take me with him! He helped watch this farm until Mr. and Ms. Vince moved in. I like chickens! I think they’re cute.”, the child told me innocently as she kept swaying and watching as the beasts grazed upon insects of the pasture.
That revelation was... interesting. I suppose it makes sense that between the original owner of this land dying in the bombings and Lena and Reginald moving in, it would be unattended. With nobody to feed and watch over those things, they would be long dead for sure. And it was Rosie’s grandfather... Speaking of. I typed out my words.
“Does your grandfather know you’re here?”
She seemed to get a weird look as she stopped her excited swaying, fiddling with her hands instead. Looks like I asked the correct question.
“...he knows I am out visiting neighbors.”
That did not answer my question. I squinted at the human child, and she dipped her head as she continued.
“...he doesn’t know I’m here specifically. Or that an alien even lives here...”, she explained, her tone suddenly more sullen.
I couldn’t help but squint at that, and it appears that my expression was readable enough that even a human could see the suspicion, as she continued.
“I’m sorry... But if I told grandpa, he’d tell me I’m forbidden from talking to you, like he forbade me from talking to hedgehog people in town... But I want to talk to you! You’re nice and you’re a space bird!”
The child was actually working around the rules established by her guardian to come see me. I don’t know if I should be glad or concerned. Clearly, the man is anti-alien in his opinions, and I’d rather that kind of man not know about how close he lives to one. At the same time, I’d rather not encourage a child for lying to their guardian in order to meet a stranger they know they aren’t allowed to interact with... So I just took the middle path with my next message.
“I see. What did you want to talk to me about then?”, TTS speaks for me.
Her stiffened body language disappears, replaced again with earlier excitement.
“I wanna know more about space! And aliens! It’s all so cool but grandpa says it’s all dangerous because mom and dad died. But it’s not! The hedgehog people were nice, and you’re nice too!”
I wasn’t sure about that logic, but my self-preservation told me I shouldn’t try convincing her to go confessing. Instead I focused more on her chosen topic.
“I am not sure I am the best person to ask about space. I am not a scientist or traveler.”
“But you’re from there! You know way more than me. I don’t even know what you are called. And there’s gotta be cool things out in space!”
I let out a sigh. I suppose it’s childlike curiosity at its finest. So unfamiliar with mundane that it is a wonder. I remember being like that about becoming a doctor.
And then you let your teacher die.
I quickly tapped on the pad.
“Okay, I can answer questions, but I may not know everything.”
The noise that came out of the girl was like a squeal of a panicked dossur as she started hopping and spinning in place.
“Yes! Yes! Thank you, Mr. Krekos!” Sudden movement did cause me to recoil a bit, which in turn caused her to cease her happy flailing and adjust her little dress. “I dunno where to start though... Hm... What are you?”
...for all my trepidation about not knowing answers, I should have anticipated that the questions she asks will be rather age-appropriate and on the same level as we learn in our first school classes. At least I won’t disappoint her then.
“I am from a species called ‘krakotl’. We’re avians, as is obvious. Our home is...” dead, gone, reduced to glass and ash by our own hubris “...was Nishtal. A beautiful planet...”
Thankfully she did not question my hesitant pause. Instead she just nodded along.
“What about the hedgehog people? I already know venlil, but they’re the only ones I know name of.”
Hedgehog people in town she mentioned earlier. The only species I could think of that could be seen there would be the gojid. I have no clue what hedgehogs are, but probably some creature with visible similarity to them.
“They are called ‘gojid’, and they’re from gojid Cradle. Both of our species are... well, used to be known for our might and protecting other species of Federation.”
I am not sure if that’s something to brag about, considering... everything. But I didn’t want this child to get brought down with depressing regrets of our species. Let her know something nicer instead. She clearly lost a lot, but there’s still joy left in her. I wouldn’t want to be the one to ruin that.
“Cool! What about other people? I wanna know more!”
And so I went on, telling her about various species, although I mostly focused on ones in this new human-led union, only mentioning kolshians and farsul beyond that. It’s weird explaining to a child what a tilfish or a harchen looks like, but thankfully my holopad isn’t just a method of communicating with implant-less children. With access to interstellar web, I could easily pull up pictures of various alien species to show to her, even if she struggled to believe that some of them were even sapient purely based off of looks. With how varied species in Federation are, and how some of us admittedly aren’t too far physiologically from our more primal ancestors.
Among other topics, she asked me to tell her interesting things, which I didn’t know much of. I told her about Venlil Prime’s tidally locked status, a rarity among habitable planets, much less homeworlds for species. I told her about the unique architecture of Mileau, designed to accommodate both species of regular size and dossur themselves. I told her about Colia medical academies, some of the most beautiful medical facilities in the galaxy.
I wish I was more well-travelled, but I just wasn’t. My whole life, I never left Nishtal until the extermination fleet took me despite my protests. That may have been what saved my life...
Not that I, of all people, deserved it...
“Hey! Stop that!”
I flinched as I heard the child yell, but quickly realized that it wasn’t directed at me. Instead, Rosie was rushing down towards the chicken flock, breaking up the fight in which the loner was being pecked by a few larger chickens. As the human child approached, the birds stopped their infighting and scattered in different directions, crowing in loud panic and discontent. On instinct, I found myself rushing towards the child, forgetting about translation entirely.
“What are you doing?! Don’t touch them!”
I didn’t want her to hurt the cattle accidentally, and I didn’t want her to get hurt by the angry birds in return. But, it seems like the moment the birds scattered, she was satisfied with her actions and turned back to me, wearing another one of her happy smiles.
“Sorry, Mr. Krekos, I just saw chickens being mean. Bad chickens.” She explained.
I was baffled. Why would she interfere like that? When I tried that back when I was just starting, that got me pecked! But with her, the birds just scattered. What if they pecked her?
I took the pad out again and started typing quickly.
“That was dangerous. Why did you do that? What if they attacked you? Why are you even interfering in their natural dynamics?”, questions flowed out of my pad with an artificial human voice.
The girl simply giggled.
“They’re chickens! They aren’t dangerous. They don’t peck that painful and I’ve been scratched worse before. And I have to stop it because bullying is wrong.”
Then she actually noticed that the one that was being attacked wandered close. She casually approached it from behind, the blind spot and just reached down and grabbed it, picking the bird up. I was ready to rush to help the bird when...
“Mwah! There, all better.”
She did a human ‘kiss’ on the back of the cattle bird’s neck before releasing it, the surprise of it causing it to rush off. I knew what kisses were, I’ve seen enough of them between Lena and Reginald, but I believed they were gestures of intimate affection, not... what was even that?
It seems Rosie noticed my confusion as she explained.
“You gotta kiss it so it heals better! That’s what mom taught me.” The child displayed that smile of hers shamelessly. With how much I was being exposed to it, it almost wasn’t unnerving anymore. Still, it was interesting to learn that kisses are seen as something that helps wounds. I guess some species do have saliva with mild antiseptic properties, wouldn’t be too out there to assume humans are the same. And if that’s the case, maybe that’s how the kissing tradition started? Exchange of protective fluid between lovers?
“I see. I did not know that.” I responded before letting my puffed feathers relax. Okay, this whole ‘watching a human child’ thing is turning out to somehow be even more stressful than I expected at first.
“Wait, Mr. Krekos, what time is it?” She suddenly asked, looking up at the sky.
“It’s nearly twelve.” I respond, holopad having a convenient clock for local time.
“Oh no! I need to be home soon! Was nice seeing you Mr. Krekos gotta go bye!”
Before I had even a chance at typing out an answer or my own goodbye, the child sprinted away and back towards the entrance. I had to take flight just to keep up, and even then she just turned around, waved her arm at me and then kept sprinting down the road after leaving the gate. I simply offered a small wave of a wing back before locking the gate again. I suppose it is hard to keep track of time without a device or clock nearby...
Well, at least I had the usual peace and quiet now. And learned a bit more about the creatures I was in charge of. I should really try to deal with my aversion to looking things up on the human internet...
Just as I was about to head back out towards the yard, I heard a loud car horn, a familiar one, getting my attention. Lena’s car. There they were, signaling me, probably having spotted me at the gate from afar. Deciding to make use of my presence here, and hoping to avoid needing to explain that I had a surprise visitor earlier, I went ahead and opened the large gate, allowing the car to enter.
Once it was parked in the usual space, the doors opened and three people came out. Lena and Reginald were both looking a bit disheveled, but their faces carried these smiles that seemed wider than ever before. And third person... Was a stranger. A human I knew of, but never actually met. As he exited the car, a large bag in one hand, he just stared at me, standing in the front yard...
“...okay, I expected many things when I was told you guys housed a refugee, but not this.”
Oh no. Oh no, he was not one of the ones that was willing to overlook an invader that partook in bombing of his planet being allowed to walk free, of course, Lena and Reginald were the weird ones like that, doesn’t mean their son won’t be... I felt the panic rising as I realized I’d need to return to the camp. Why was I upset about that? This was supposed to just have been a way to make money, but now I have a free education program. Do I need to stay? No, but... Why?! Why do I not want to leave?
“Ken, you said it’s going to be alright no matter what it is, right? Wanted us to keep it a surprise to meet a new friend?” Lena’s voice. She should have told him, that’d give me time to prepare why didn’t they give me time why.
“No, no problems, just, really surprised, that’s all... uh... hey, buddy, you okay? You’re really... trembly.”
He was approaching me, and instinct took over as I recoiled, before stuttering out my answer.
“I-I’m fine...”
...thankfully translators don’t translate voice cracks. I hope, at least...
“Hey, relax... I have no problem with you being a krakotl, I just didn’t think...” He looks over at Lena and Reginald. “Calm down... I can wear my visor if you want?”
Right. Those things humans use to hide their scary faces from us.
“I... I’m good...”
Why would it last? It almost felt good after all.
There was some emotion I struggled to read on the young human’s face, as he sighed and shook his head.
“I screwed this up, I’m sorry. Let... Let me try again.” He straightened out, and adjusted his clothing, before slowly approaching me and giving me a small smile, no teeth showing. “Hello. My name is Kenneth Vince and I'm son of Lena and Reginald Vince. I was told you’re a refugee they took in to help out. It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
That... snapped me out of it. Right... He was... not upset at my existence. He was just very surprised that Lena and Reginald weren’t. That’s a reasonable thing to be surprised about, considering I was surprised about it to this day. I tried to compose myself as I responded.
“My name is Krekos. I live here as... hired help with the cattle. It’s... nice to meet you?”
The smile on Kenneth’s face widens, though he still refrains from showing his teeth. Instead, he extends a hand towards me. A handshake is a human gesture that I found far from comfortable, but I didn’t want to give him a reason to change his mind on acceptability of my existence, so I took it with a wingclaw. He gently took it and held for a few seconds before letting go and sighing again, turning to his parents.
“You know, I always thought you guys would be empty nesters, but I never thought it’d be that literal.”
That got all three of them laughing, as I just tilted my head in confusion. I was fairly sure there were no empty nests in the house until after I adjusted the attic room for my own accommodations. Still, I took the laughter as a sign that the tense moment had fully passed and let my ruffled feathers slowly rest.
“Let’s head inside. Krekos, we’re having dinner, you’re welcome to join us.” Reginald said, picking up Kenneth’s bag. I tilted my head a little and he followed up with elaboration. “We will be having meat... But there’s still going to be stuff you can eat too. It’s a celebration, so I prepared a bit of everything.”
“Dad, you shouldn’t have!” Kenneth responded with embarrassment.
“None of that! Our son returned from the war, alive and a hero, and we can have a celebration. Krekos, I know you’re still... uncertain about meat so you don’t—”
“I’ll join.”
Wait, who said that? And why did they say that in my voice?
Wait, that was me. Why did I say that?
“That’s great to hear! I’ve got some nice steamed broccoli and some vegetarian fried rice as sides that you’ll enjoy!” Reginald smiled at me and I felt myself shrinking into my feathers. That the humans didn’t notice at least, proceeding into the house instead.
Well, looks like I signed my warrant. At least my bag and my epipen were on me in case something at the table triggers the allergy again. Would be rather unfortunate to have it happen two days in a row.
And that’s how, in just ten or so minutes, I found myself sitting at the dining perch, while humans took seats in chairs, all consuming chunks of roasted flesh and somehow managing to also stuff pieces of equally roasted plants in, and converse with one another. You wouldn’t be able to tell on first look, but despite their mouths being relatively small, especially for a predator, it seems they compensate for it by having those be near bottomless in both hunger and small talk.
I am not sure how I managed to shift my focus away from them consuming animal matter in front of me, however vat grown it might have been, and onto their conversation instead, but I succeeded. I suppose that was just part of me going native around predators. Soon, I’ll be the one feasting along with them before I know it, and snacking on those epipens to not die of it.
Like you could ever be on the same level as humans.
“So, Fahl? That’s where you were sent after the Battle of Earth?” Lena asked.
“Yeah. From what I heard, we got a light posting compared to guys at Sillis or Mileau. The most I had to deal with was some exterminator insurgents.”
That’s right. Since harchen participated in the Extermination Fleet, they were one of those who were occupied by humans during the war. It makes sense that there was at least some ground resistance.
“Honestly, the worst thing out there was the heat. Not the flamethrower kind, the climate. The place was so damn dry and hot. At least exterminators you could subdue or evade. Not so much with the scorching sun!”
I couldn’t resist a small chuckle at the idea of a predator being more afraid of hot weather than flamethrowers as I slowly pecked at the vegetables on my plate. Thankfully it was set far enough aside from any meat dishes that no contamination should occur, but I was still examining pieces before putting them in my mouth just in case.
Seems like reacting was a mistake though, as that brought Kenneth’s attention onto me. He finished chewing latest piece of flesh and pointed a fork at me.
“So, Krekos... Where are you from? Cradle was my guess, but I do know there were refugees from other places like Sillis too.”
That’s a weird question. Isn’t it kind of to be expected for a krakotl to be from our actual homeworld?”
“I’m from Nishtal.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Kenneth chuckled, tossing a piece of broccoli into his mouth and swallowing before continuing, “I meant, where did you live? I kind of assumed you were born there, but it’s not like Nishtal had a chance to send refugees out, and if they did, this is the last place they’d be.”
Oh... I caught concerned looks of Lena and Reginald, looking between me and Kenneth from both sides. Not only did they not make him aware that I was a krakotl, they also neglected to mention just how I came by my refugee status... Which was just a legal workaround to grant me asylum without unnecessary complications or establishing undesirable precedent. Legally, I may be a refugee, but practically... I am a defector. Lena and Reginald know that, I told them my story before. And while they were weirdly accepting, Kenneth... Fought extermination fleet here on Earth. Personally.
Still, I wasn’t about to lie. It took a few moments and gathering mental strength to steel myself, and averting my eyes, focusing on the plate of warm vegetables in front of me rather than the human’s anticipating stare before I answered.
“I did live on Nishtal. I... I came with the extermination fleet.” I responded, doing my best to avoid looking at him. I did not want to witness his reaction, for some reason the thought of seeing it weighed heavy on my mind.
“Oh.”
The response was simple, and had no followup. There was no more clinking of cutlery against plates, or chewing. The only thing hanging in the air of the kitchen was silence, weighing down on me. It dragged on and on... until it just got so unbearable I couldn’t take it.
“I-I’m full... Thank you for the meal.” I quickly said, hopping off the perch and stepping out of the kitchen, quickly making my way to the yard and taking flight.
Fresh air of the outside and rush of it as I flew up and gained speed... I missed that. I knew it’s not safe to just fly over other people’s territory, so I corrected my course into doing large sweeping circles over the cattle yard and simply let my wings carry me.
Flying away from any danger is the only thing I’m good for anyway. The only thing I ever do.
I closed my eyes. With them closed and not focusing on my angle it feels like I’m actually flying away from all the troubles. Away from humans who barely tolerate my existence, away from gojid who see me as worse than a predator, away from Earth and all its incorrigible customs, away from horrid cattle, away from constant memories...
Flying feels nice. It may be a bit harder than it was home, but it’s still possible. I heard that on Venlil Prime or Mileau it’s much harder. But here? Just an extra flap of wings for every few paces and you’re just fine, free to soar the skies...
Alone. With no one to ever share it with me again.
Slowly I let my eyes open back to the bleak reality. Greenery of surrounding pastures and woods, bright blue skies and farmhouses dotted about here and there greeted me. I lowered my gaze down, focusing on what’s below. There they were, fourteen brown and black dots spread around the enclosed portion of the farm territory. I am not sure how much time I’ve spent flying in circles and trying to forget things but my wings were feeling a tad sore. Then as I just began slow descent, in same circular motion, I noticed that one of the birds, a familiar one, was being chased by several others. Recounting the morning, I tried putting the knowledge to action, and shifted direction of descent, swooping down. To my surprise, that actually worked, as the moment I got close to the ground, the cattle birds all got much louder and scattered in all directions, including the loner. Who, at least this time, got off unharmed. I suppose such pathetic flightless creatures would fear a flying one much more than they would when I just run up to them...
Swooping at them from the sky like a predator to intimidate them into behaving... Like an arxur warden.
With the fight preemptively broken up, I flutter up to the roof of the cattle house, to my usual position and rested my wings. I didn’t see any movement from the direction of the house, so I suppose the family is still busy unpacking. Since Kenneth joined the military just before the Battle of Earth, and Lena and Reginald only moved here after their actual house in city of New York got destroyed, it’d be the first time the human is seeing what is basically his new home. There was a room set aside for him since before I even moved in, and while there is also a guest room... That one did not have a large enough window to fit through, which did not feel comfortable. So when I asked for a space with a bigger window they only had an attic to offer. They seemed uncomfortable letting me live in a tiny room with slanted roof, but I found such space more comforting than I would have a large room with a window not large enough to fit even one fully spread wing through.
I wonder if Kenneth will need as much renovation as I did? The house is built for humans, but he never lived there before. Will he need to buy a more comfortable bed? Getting a proper nesting setup in place of a bed took a bit of effort, but I figured something out. Human sheets were comfortable enough for such, and sitting perches were thankfully not that hard to get thanks to help from the refugee administration. Maybe that’s the things that Lena went to buy yesterday? Kenneth’s preferred room decor?
I looked up to the sky to see the sun beginning to dim. I am not sure if it was me flying that long, or me losing track of time in my thoughts again, but the sun was beginning to set. I began my usual chores, putting out an evening meal and water for the beasts, and while they feasted, ate some myself. I was a bit hungry, having not properly finished lunch and about to skip dinner, but after the earlier conversation, I’d really rather avoid giving them the opportunity to talk to me.
After the birds had their fill, and by that I mean they emptied the tray as they always do, I let out the call, and they started funneling into the cattle house. The lonely straggler being first to go and hop into its nesting box. I bet tomorrow I will have trouble with getting her out of there again...
I took the moment to gather some eggs the birds left over course of the day, and once that was over and all of them were accounted for, I closed it up. When I flew down over to the house, there wasn’t anyone by the back door thankfully, so I just left eggs there, returned the basket, and returned to my room through the window.
Well, at least I didn’t get nearly killed today... That’s nice I guess?
I was about to check my holopad when there was a knock on the door. I approached and opened it to see... Kenneth. Standing in the doorway.
“Uh, hi, Krekos. I just, uh... Wanted to apologize again. I really wish mom and dad told me everything ahead of time... I just want you to know, I have no problems with you whatsoever, yeah? It’s just. Surprising, I guess, to hear all that. I didn’t think there were any defectors from the fleet at all... Just. Uh, please don’t worry about me?” He offered me a small smile, showing his canines before quickly correcting himself and doing a closed-lip one. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories or make you feel unwelcome.”
I had to take a moment to contemplate his words. Was Lena and Reginald’s weirdness hereditary? He almost reminded me of how Reginald talked to me early on, with constant stumbling over the words, as well as constant reassurances that he is fine with me being here. Couple that with failing to avoid predatory mannerisms like eye contact and smiles like Lena tends to and you get this human. But most importantly and least understandably, there was the general fact of him and them just... welcoming me. I couldn’t understand why. I should be one sorry to them.
“N-No, it’s fine... I’m sorry for... intruding on you and your family.”
“No, no, dude, you’re fine! I mean, hell, I was considering entering one of those exchange programs before the bombings happened, and even after, well, I did my best at Fahl to be the perfect friendly soldier just there to make sure no more bombs drop on my home and not kill or conquer anyone. And then mom told me your story, and I can’t believe it... Just... If you have any issues, feel free to tell me. I’m not one of those racist pricks that are too pussy to even call themselves HF anymore because they know they’ll get their teeth knocked. I get that there aren't good or bad species, just people. And you seem like a decent guy if mom and dad’s judgment is to be trusted.” His smile widened, though it was clear from tension on his face that he had to take conscious effort to keep teeth hidden. “So, what I said earlier stands. Friends, right?”
He extends hand forward, for a second time today. I wasn’t sure if I knew this human long enough to call him a friend... Any human really. But it also seems like human definition of ‘friends’ is anyone they’re cordial and peaceful with. Which is weird. You’d think translators would properly use ‘acquaintance’ for that.
Still... We will be living in the same house now. I can’t just say no, and... I can’t come up with a reason to say no. Even him being a predator and a human is not something I could really say I object to, considering how... mundane that became to me over my time here.
So, with naught on my mind but acceptance of the situation, I extended my wing and grasped his hand with my claw. This time he actually gripped it tightly and moved it up and down, as I saw other humans do occasionally.
“Yeah... I guess that’d be for the best.” I responded, shrugging off the hesitation. Fresh start for a third time, I guess?
The human grinned, forgetting to hide his teeth entirely, but I was ready for it somehow and avoided outwardly reacting.
“Cool! Anyway, I’ll try to get some shuteye early, I couldn’t sleep on the overnight flight home. See ya!”
And with that he left. Well... That meeting went well I suppose?
I returned to my nest and picked up my holopad, returning to what I was doing. And there it was, something I awaited every day. A notification that I was messaged on mailing app. Opening the letter revealed the schedule for the study program. Which... only had one day marked on it. And a note that the rest of it will be figured out ‘as we go from there’. So it’s not a schedule, it’s just a mark for the day of the first meeting.
While a bit underwhelming, it was still exciting. It would be an all-alien class so I wouldn’t have to deal with humans’ incomprehensibility nearly as much, and it would allow me to finally return to pursuing what I actually dreamt of. Even if I wasn’t entirely sure that was precisely what I wanted after everything that happened, it was at least something for me to move towards.
...just two days until start. I wonder if there’s some required reading to prepare?
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dealing with a problematic member of a board games group
Originally posted to Ask A Manager
EDITORS NOTE: Changed Q to Quinn for easier reading
Original Post Sept 15, 2022
I wanted to write and say thank you.
I am part of a local board games group, and started to run the group a while ago. It’s a great group of people who all enjoy coming together to play board games and have fun, and it was one of the key factors in making my husband and I feel at home in the city where we live. We have both made friends with people in the group, and it’s now a firm part of our life here. In addition, a regular member who left recently said that the group was the highlight of his week, which was lovely to hear. I love running the group!
However, there is a member of the group, Quinn, who has been in the group since it started (seven years or more) and has been displaying problematic behavior since he joined (rude comments, refusing to play anyone else’s games, losing his temper at times, leaving games in a huff when he’s losing, and generally making the atmosphere unpleasant for others). When we joined, we were told that Quinn bothered everyone but was just something that was being in the group, so we went along with that. At the time, the group was very serious and inclined towards more serious board games, and only three people ever brought games. There has been a real change of culture since then, with a range of games being played (light games, traditional games, and heavy games) and everyone brings games now. The atmosphere is a lot lighter, with more emphasis on having fun and being social, and this is something that Quinn does not enjoy and has not adjusted well to.
When I started to run the group, I noticed Quinn’s behavior was having a terrible effect on the group (people not coming back because of him or doing anything to avoid playing with him, and his preference for playing games in reverential silence making sessions less fun for everyone). I also realized that some people were at breaking point with this and it might contribute to them leaving.
The deputy (Kelly) and I wanted to ensure that we did it fairly and using the right procedure. We gathered feedback on the group, (which was useful in itself!), which confirmed that Quinn’s behavior was an issue, and I spoke to him, named what we were seeing with clear examples, and explained what we needed to see change. Quinn said he would take it on board. Your scripts and language were very helpful, as Quinn takes things very literally and factually.
Quinn’s behavior improved for four weeks, which was great. Some people have put up with it for so long that no amount of change will make them want to play games with Quinn, but some people were willing to give Quinn a chance. Unfortunately, Quinn’s behavior started to slip after four weeks, culminating in a session where they almost put a new member off coming back by lecturing them about group etiquette and insulting their game shelves with what was meant to be a joke, but did not land.
I spoke to Quinn again and explained that since the behavior we discussed had returned, if this did not improve, we would have to ask Quinn to leave as the group is for everyone and I need to do what’s right for the group as a whole.
Quinn took the points on board and was visibly upset at the thought of being asked to leave the group. Since we spoke to them, they haven’t attended of the two sessions since then, but they are still chatting on our Discord channel and seem to be trying to make amends by promoting the group to a students’ group in the city we live in.
We don’t know what will happen, but Kelly and I have agreed what behaviors will mean Quinn will be asked to leave, and your scripts and posts were invaluable in thinking about how to tackle this, and what language to use. Your posts have helped me realize that being the group leader means that the buck stops with me. For example, my husband and I disagreed on how to handle the situation (he was in favor of asking Quinn to leave immediately) but I had the confidence to think it through, follow the process through fairly, and know that if it didn’t work, that responsibility would rest with me.
This isn’t related to work per se, but I wanted to say thank you very much for the invaluable and free advice which has really helped me in navigating this situation!
Update Apr 11, 2024
I am the letter writer who runs a board games group and used Alison’s excellent advice about communication to deal with a problematic member of the games group and the issues their behavior was causing.
We had a twist in the tale recently when Quinn, the member who was asked to leave the group because their behavior was negatively impacting others, asked if they could come back.
For four weeks every year, we use a different venue as another group needs our normal venue. One one of the four weeks, I went for a walk before the session and noticed what looked like Quinn in the park. When the session started, Quinn appeared, just “passing by,” and we had a quick chat about this and that before they asked if they could come back to the group, saying they were in a better place now. They then left without ordering anything, which makes me think they dropped in just to see us.
I said I would send a message, and gave it due consideration. I also asked a friend who knows Quinn and used to be in the group, but has now moved, for their more objective input.
The decision was no: the group is working well as it is, with high numbers and between 11 and 20 people per session, and Quinn coming back would lead to awkwardness and possible animosity from a few people, some of whom would speak their mind. We would also lose a lot of members, and the group would slowly decline. For what it’s worth, one person who had some very negative interactions with Quinn, when they heard why Quinn was there ( they were round the corner), exclaimed “No!” to Quinn coming back, and this person is one of the nicest people you’ll meet. Similar reactions were given from others.
I sent Quinn a message explaining the decision, and I was as fair and kind as possible given the circumstances. Quinn has found another games group, albeit one that only plays light games, (not heavy games, Quinn’s preference), and I mentioned that and said it sounds like a nice group (which it does).
Quinn was perfectly pleasant when we chatted, but that was for about eight minutes, and they knew what was coming. They also said that they weren’t often doing the things I’d mentioned anymore (moving other people’s pieces, and a couple of other examples I gave), and that although their new group likes light games, they are helping some people progress up to heavier games. It wasn’t clear if the people wanted to progress (one of the issues we had was Quinn assuming that everyone wanted to progress).
The games group continues to do well, with enough surplus each year to give everyone free sessions every January, and we receive frequent feedback that the atmosphere is friendly and welcoming and that people feel at home and confident to bring and teach their games there. Our annual Christmas potluck dinner and session with a Secret Santa also continues. We also have a Google sheet with people’s games collections, if they want to add them, thanks to one of our members who likes spreadsheets.
For myself, Ask a Manager continues to help me out at work! I recently applied for a job which would be a step up income wise and I used Alison’s tips, and I use the communication tips in daily life as well as at work. I was actually used as a bargaining chip in recent negotiations at work over a type of meeting that needs minuting (for my minuting skills), so I will take that as a compliment!
THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP
DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7

I don't need any Sony Buff passes or Universal Rewards.
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WPA – A Completely Average Roadtrip
Disclaimer: Not canon, and I don’t use patreon so please don’t spoil me. Also, any opinion held by a character is that of the characters and not my own. Enjoy.
Town of Ljosalfington, local time 14:00, week 7
Emma Booker
“Again Illunor, I warned you before that this is a utility vehicle, not a party rated smart-limo. I am already compromising more than I should by allowing you to use the sample cooler as a minifridge, one which I can’t even use!” I said as I loaded the materials I had just purchased into the back of the high-G All terrain fusion-ethanol-electric hybrid 24th-century legacy pickup truck that I had printed out earlier this week, carefully avoiding the heavy ordinance hard point.
“That is hardly an excuse for that abysmally cramped leg space barely fit for cattle, never mind the bare minimum for standard decorum suitable for nobility. If this is what a car is like, then I don’t see why you care for your technology,” complained Illunor, who was sitting around idly with a malformed garish bowl of icecream that he had stashed away from lunch.
“If it bothers you so much, perhaps you could help next time with your ‘bigger-on-the-inside’ magic,” I retorted as I slid the last core sample into the back before covering it up with a tarp and strapping it down.
I had originally planned to visit Ljosalfington by myself to acquire much needed exo-materials to test various mana manipulator configurations as I worked to develop my first wand as not all of the materials I needed were procurable locally from Elaseer. I eventually yielded, much to my regret, to allowing Illunor to come with me as he insisted on wanting to deliver a letter personally in town after Thacea had pointed out the wisdom of not travelling alone.
We continued our back and forth for a bit yet as I finished securing my payload a voice called out to me from the direction of the town.
“Excuse me a moment, I couldn’t help but notice but are you from the academy?”
I turned to see an elf dressed in a plain brown buttoned up tunic matched by a slightly shabby pair of trousers with what appeared to be a lute upon his back and a plain and unenchanted longsword on his belt gesturing at our robes. Mine especially were new and unusual, tailored by the academy to go over my armour and allow access to the anchor points and allow me to exit my armour with minimal hassle. Illunor scoffed at what was evidently a commoner’s arrogance at approaching nobility and turned his head away in disgust. I glanced at Illunor and shook my head before turning to face the new man. I had time to spare, and any opportunity to engage in a hearts-and-minds dialogue with the locals outside the bounds of the managed environment of the academy was more than worth the time to chat. Especially as most of the other locals seemed to be content in ignoring me.
“Yes, we are currently studying at the Transgracian Academy. I am Cadet Emma Booker representing the United Nations of Earth and Luna from Earthream, and my aloof compatriot is Lord Illunor Rularia of the Vunerian courts. We were just about to head back but are in no rush. May I ask your name and what brings you by?” I asked with my hand outstretched in greeting.
“Ah yes, yes. My name is Edhel Redoehdelnif, a wandering bard by trade like my father and his father before him. My apologies, Cadet Emma Booker, I am unfamiliar with Earthrealm,” said Edhel as he grasped my hand with both of his and shook it tepidly yet vigorously. Or rather, tried to, as the motors on my suit resisted his efforts.
“News doesn’t seem to spread all that fast around here, so it makes sense you haven’t heard of us. We’re a new realm, and only just got here. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Edhel Redoehdelnif,” I replied.
“Absolutely fascinating! And a knight no less, or perhaps a squire? I’m sure you have many stories to tell of Earthrealm. Say, by chance are you about to head back to the academy? I have business in Elaseer and the usual coach has been absent as of late so I would rather not go it alone,” said Edhel.
I was hesitant to bring a stranger back in the car with me, even if Illunor was present. However, the opportunity that meeting a bard presented was too good to pass up from an intel perspective and to win the favour of the populace at large.
“That is a great idea. I think I have room for one more…” I paused before gesturing towards Illunor, “provided everyone is ok with it that is.”
Illunor gave a huff and turned his head away in silence.
“Very well, I will allow this. But he will not be joining me in your sorry excuse for a coach,” said Illunor dismissively.
Illunor approached the backseat expectantly and the door opened for him automatically, allowing the dlc kobold to gracefully enter and lounge across the length of the seats, once again ignoring the seatbelts. I sighed as I made my way to the driver’s seat, and Edhel entered from the passenger side as he marveled at the automatic doors and the interior.
“What a strange carriage this is! Although I must say, shouldn’t you be retrieving your horses? I didn’t see any harnesses or sense any artifices,” inquired Edhel as he attempted to make himself comfortable on the car seat, lute in front of him.
“Oh no, this thing doesn’t need horses or magic,” I said with a chuckle as EVI started the car. The elf raised his eyebrows at the sudden hum of the engine and made an expression of alarm when the car started driving itself without my input. “See, purrs like a kitten.”
“Earthrealm must have some large kittens if they purr like that,” noted Edhel, “but you must be concealing the enchantments somewhere. Such a thing as this with such strange yet precise craftsmanship is only possible in the crownlands.”
“Nope, no magic,” I said cheerfully.
“Then how?” Asked Edhel.
“It’s rather simple really. Are you familiar with the workings of a mill?” I asked, deciding to keep things surface level and elementary to avoid provoking the IDOV threshold.
“Somewhat, though I confess to not being familiar with their workings. Are you suggesting this is akin to a mill?” Asked Edhel perplexed.
“It’s the same principal. A mill works by taking a source of rotation such as a waterwheel or windmill, transferring that rotation along a series of rotating shafts and interlocking gears, and finally putting that energy to work by rotating a millstone,” I began as the car pulled out onto the smooth cobbled road in the direction of Elaseer. A notification popped up in the corner of my vision indicating my recon drone swarm had shifted from a holding formation to a convoy screening formation, and while the roads were clear I kept the speed at 60km/h to account for my passenger’s apparent distaste for seatbelts.
“Rotation…” muttered Edhel. He turned to face one of the wheels and EVI pinged an alert for a probable match for a detection spell, “fascinating.”
“Edhel, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, perhaps I should have asked first. Yes, I can see how it all fits together. But the source of this rotation? I see no mighty river or great wind to power this, so where does it come from?” Asked Edhel, not really apologizing. Elven arrogance, it seemed, was not limited by class.
The act reminded me of Sorecar when he inspected my gun, but where the armourer had been respectful with it, Edhel was more flippant. I considered the possibility that he was a spy sent by one of her peers or the crownlands, though this did not mesh with the methods I had seen so far. Edhel may have been just overly enthusiastic. In either case, I quickly decided to only reveal the antique design for the ethanol engine, and not that of the batteries or the emergency coupler to my suit’s fusion reactor.
“Right, well please ask first next time. As to your question, I won’t bore you with the details, but the rotation is generated by creating a periodic sequence of explosions inside of a machine – a manaless artifice – called a combustion engine, said Emma.
“So that’s what that sound is…” pondered Edhel, “are these artifices typical in Earthream?”
“You are awfully inquisitive for a commoner,” noted Illunor as he inspected his nails for dirt, “and rather accepting of something which should be impossible.”
“I wouldn’t be much of a bard if I wasn’t, my lord,” said Edhel shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “perhaps some music might set the mood better?”
“That would be preferable, bard. I have heard enough of the Earthrealmer’s Road Trip Playlist and would like to listen to some music of real culture,” said Illunor.
The bard agreed and proceeded to awkwardly play a ballad about an adventurer who slew a hydra in some frozen wasteland. Partway through, I politely interrupted the Edhel to point out the seat controls much to his fascination and Illunor’s grumbling at their common nature, and after some adjustment the bard went on playing and I half-heartedly listened while I paid attention to the road and my drone feed.
Particularly after EVI detected something unusual and alerted me to its presence.
”Attention Caded Booker. There is a disabled vehicle blocking the primary route to destination. Heat signatures in the woods are consistent with that of an ambush.”
“Damn it,” I muttered.
I glanced at the drone feed to see a broken cart strewn horizontally across a wooden bridge over a brook. On the surface it looked like a pair of civilians who required aid and assistance, but off in the woods were several heat signatures, several of which held weapons of varying levels of enchantments. Occasionally one of the pair on the bridge would talk with them, suggesting they were in cahoots rather than hostages. I recalled crossing that very bridge not a few hours earlier, so the blockade was very recent.
“EVI, did we pass that cart on the way here?” I asked.
”Negative,” replied EVI.
I grimaced. I had been trained to handle road-side ambushes, but it was only something that was a theoretical possibility. Something that should only occur in a warzone or a corrupt and unstable polity. I knew I had the capacity to handle such an encounter, even non-lethally, but that didn’t change the fact that these were civilians and as such were the responsibility of local law enforcement. Combined with the fact that I had passengers I was responsible for and engaging the ambush was a risky option.
“EVI, give me a list of alternative routes,” I commanded.
”Affirmative. Here is a list of routes in order of recommendation,” replied EVI.
I looked over the routes superimposed on a map of the region and quickly dismissed taking a shortcut through the forest and cutting through farmland. A detour caught my eye that extended the journey by roughly ten kilometers and I immediately sent a pair of drones to scout it out before committing to the detour.
“Are you alright, Cadet Emma Booker? You seem distracted,” asked Edhel, snapping me back to reality.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just focused on driving,” replied Emma.
“I suppose it must be quite taxing to command an artificed carriage of this complexity. Perhaps it might ease your mind if you were to regale me a tale of a hero of your realm?” Said Edhel, strumming a complex tune from his lute as he spoke as each and every pluck triggered a low-level spell.
“Well, that may be a problem. We don’t have any monsters to fight, and wars are a thing of the past,” I said while desperately tip-toeing the subject of aunt Ran, the subject of war, and our voyages through the cosmos, “though we are not without the adventurous spirit. We certainly have many stories of grand voyages. Some mythical and fictional such as The Odyssey as told by the Greek poet Homer and some historical such as the race to the south pole.”
“The south pole,” muttered the bard, “so you have explored all of Earthrealm then? I suppose that makes some sense, if you have artifices such as this then traversal of a globe would be quite manageable.”
“You are quite perceptive,” I said, not wishing to elaborate.
“A great performer knows his audience,” said Edhel with a charming, honest, almost human smile.
I felt a pang of homesickness as an intrusive thought reminded me that I could have gone to a real college surrounded by friendly faces my age, engaging in nightly holostreams and dreaming of adventures in the stars from the safety of a college dorm room. The sight of Illunor in the rear camera was the only thing that kept me grounded, as I almost felt like I was back at home on a road trip rather than returning to a fantasy feudal court, constantly evading death at every turn with the fate of humanity on the line. As such, and prompted by EVI, I barely had the wherewithal to take the planned detour.
A fact which did not pass by Edhel.
“I believe you may have taken a wrong turn, Emma,” he commented.
“Nah, I’m just taking the scenic route. I came from that direction on the way here, and you have inspired me to see the other road and I figure it should only add a few extra minutes to our travel time,” I said, gesturing at a paper map which I had referenced exactly once, “though on that subject, you seem to know these lands quite well. Do you have any recommendations on places to visit in the Nexus to scratch that itch?”
Illunor raised his eyebrow at the detour excuse, knowing full well this was not part of the plan. I worried that he might complain about the issue and but thankfully remained silent as he snacked on the contents of the misused sample storage unit. Edhel himself took on a more pensive posture.
“I’m happy to have been such an inspiration, Emma, though I am sure an explorer such as yourself has little need of such. I would normally suggest the skyward fountains of Verdellan or the cloud tides of Asturia, but that may be too casual for someone of your calibre. Perhaps the severed chasm or the fire marsh of Bhandahova may be more to your liking. Or perhaps…” Edhel leaned in, “I have heard rumours of a dragon in the glassy obsidian wastes of Vurcanar.”
I chuckled at that, knowing how I was fortunate enough to fish a dragon scale out of the nearby lake for the ECS. “The thought of going dragon hunting had certainly crossed my mind…” I mused aloud.
“Yet you sound hesitant. Perhaps it is too much for a newrealmer. Perhaps a slime or a dire rat might be more appropriate,” he said with a tease.
“No, it’s not like that! It’s” I stammered, before attempting to change course after realizing I had been goaded, “what I mean is, I was under the impression that dragons were an endangered species. Where I come from, hunting endangered animals is usually illegal, and big game hunting in general is frowned upon. We do make exceptions in the case of problem animals such as if a large predator starts hunting humans, but as a rule we prefer conservation and try to find ways of coexisting with wildlife such as the use of barrier fences and scaring away dangerous animals rather than being forced to cull their numbers. Having a species go extinct would prevent future generations from appreciating them and risks destabilizing the ecosystem they are a part of. Now if this dragon was actively razing villages and eating civilians and livestock, that would be one thing, but this does not look to be the case. I don’t imagine the Nexus has any settlements in this wasteland, and the dragon clearly wants to be left alone. Killing an innocent dragon would be murder.”
I grinned to myself after delivering a diatribe that would have made my tenth grade social and environmental studies teacher beam with pride, though by the expressions of my passengers my view did not appear to be shared. Edhel’s mouth was agape in shock and fascination, while the Venurian in the back seat merely huffed in disapproval.
“I assure you Newrealmer, there are no innocent dragons,” stated Illunor with a hint of terseness breaking through his otherwise regal demeanor.
“Illunor, I understand that Venurians have personal reasons for not liking dragons, but you can’t just extend that disdain to their descendants or those uninvolved just because they are the same species,” I said.
“If I may interject on your behalf, my lord, I believe I can address Cadet Emma Booker’s concerns,” said Edhel with a bow. Illunor nodded in approval.
“Very well, you may proceed,” he said.
“Thank you, my lord. My dear Emma, you must understand that dragons are not simple animals driven entirely off of instinct as it appears to be the case in Earthrealm. They are monsters. Intelligent, long-lived, violent, greedy, cruel, territorial, selfish flesh-eating monsters. They are evil by the very nature of their being, unable to change by their own accord, and unwilling to change when His Eternal Majesty offered them freedom from their nature. It isn’t that they want to be evil. As intelligent animals – intelligent monsters – dragons are capable of understanding morality, and many have tried to overcome their evil nature at great expense to themselves. A well intended and noble sentiment, yet a doomed one as like all animals, they all succumb to their nature in the end. Overcoming one’s nature is impossible,” said Edhel. His eyes took on a stoic, almost remorseful gaze as he spoke, and Illunor nodded with approval.
I was appalled by this claim, not by the contents so much as how blatantly false it was. As a representative of the human race, I was a living counterexample to his whole argument. We had remained physiologically unchanged as a species since the last Ice Age, and yet in spite of that, in spite of our many flaws, we had found peace and balance. If we could do it, anyone could do it.
“Will all due respect Edhel, that is nonsense. Monsters aren’t born, they are made. It is the mark of any intelligent species can adapt their behaviour to their environment for better or worse, and under the right care any so-called monster can grow to be a force for good,” I began, but while I searched for the right words Edhel shook his head.
“I appreciate your race is an empathetic one, Emma, your idealism is unfounded. As flesh eaters, a dragon must take the life of another animal or person to survive, or they will perish. As such, every dragon has taken a life. As long-lived creatures, they will have amassed a significant number of kills. As the land can only support so much animals, a dragon must be fiercely territorial and aggressive to remove competition, lest they starve. As such, even the most kind-hearted dragon alive must be violent and greedy, and their intelligence fuels this even more so if they know a bountiful land of morsels exists just outside their range.
Now perhaps a multitude of dragons may find a way to co-exist together in some settlement, but to support such a venture would require a large territory of prey, or a livestock animal. Perhaps they could support a large colony by farming grain for their livestock, but that would require effort on their behalf. As large animals, such efforts require a great deal of energy. Yet that size makes it easy for them to intimidate smaller races to do their labour for them, and to keep their client race in line dragons must be cruel. And even so, as their numbers grow so do their needs. As such, they must expand into the lands of their neighbours to survive until there is nothing left to devour, at which point they must turn against their own lest they starve. As such, it is the nature of dragons to conquer and devour. That is why there is no such thing as an innocent dragon,” finished Edhel.
I was speechless, not because I believed Edhel had a point, but because I was horrified at how easy he found it to rationalize the extermination of an entire sapient species. If this was how the elves thought, then it wasn’t the dragons who were the monsters. I suppressed that dark thought. Edhel’s thought process was a product of his culture, not a feature of his elven heritage. If there was any hope of peace between our people, I needed to show him there was another way of being. I needed to prove that co-existence was possible, no matter one’s nature.
I took a deep breath to steady myself before replying.
“That- that is a callous way of seeing things,” I began, though the shock was still there in my voice, “you speak as though there is no natural equilibrium with a dragon, that their only state of being must be to be cruel, to devour, to conquer. But I see things differently. In fact, I might wonder if a fledgling civilization might see the presence of a dragon as a boon rather than a curse. Being intelligent, the locals may be able to come to some agreement with the dragon. Perhaps they might leave some land as a hunting ground or offer up a share of their cattle or guard the dragon as it sleeps. In exchange, the dragon might allow them to build a town outside its mountain and protect them in times of danger. An equitable exchange. A civilization might even create artificial lairs to attract dragons for this very reason. True, some dragons may behave tyrannical towards their town, but a well armed populace of a large city would be more than capable of fighting such a threat, and a rational dragon might reason that threatening their own populace would put their reliable source of food and shelter at risk. You see, it’s all a matter of perspective.”
“You certainly are an imaginative one, Emma, to wonder up a quixotic world where the hare and the fox live together in harmony as equals. Even so, you seem to have ignored one key detail to such a society. What would happen should the dragon not be fed for months on end?” Asked Edhel with his eyebrow raised.
“The same thing as stranded a dozen starving, stranded Elves!” I spat back.
[Alert: Vehicle speed above recommended limit for conditions. Recommendation: slow down. ]
“I am driving slow!” I seethed, not realizing I had sped up with manual control enabled.
“I grow tired of this common prattle,” interjected Illunor just in time to prevent an awkward silence, “bard, play us another song.” “As my lord wishes,” said Edhel with a bow before turning to me with another smile, “perhaps a more soothing melody would be in order? A love song perhaps, to honour Cadet Booker’s compassionate nature?”
I said nothing as Edhel began to strum his lute again to the tune of a love story of a pair of doomed lovers named Ramian and Junette, hating his cheeky knowing grin that only served to get under my skin further as I focused on calming down and slowing the car back to a more reasonable pace before investigating a priority alert which I had been blinded to moments prior.
[Alert: hostile roadblock is absent, location unknown.]
Shit.
“Illunor, we may have a problem,” I said.
“Shush, Newrealmer, have you no class? We are almost at the best part! I’m sure it can wait,” replied the contextually clueless lizard.
I had never wanted to throttle Illunor as much as I did now.
“Illunor, shield, now,” I said with a raised voice.
“I don’t see-“ he started, pausing mid-sentence as his ears perked up.
[Alert: Multiple manafield and spell signatures detected!]
I took evasive maneuvers as Illunor tried to piece together a shield spell, fumbling it twice as panic appeared to set in and providing me with a reminder that Illunor was a civilian, not a soldier. A hail of arrows pelted the exterior of the truck, piercing but not penetrating the composite armour. I was tempted to do nothing but just drive away from the arrow fire, but a foreboding premonition of danger filled me as I recalled Sorecar’s hunter-seeker arrows.
Seeking to avoid that fate, I triggered the active defenses.
The smoke screens deployed around the vehicle, obscuring the sight of any who depended on visible light to see me. A barrage of decoy flares equipped with wooden cores shot upward at angles and diffusing to the side like a pair of giant wings which when combined with the MFD, short for mana-field dampener, inside the vehicle meant that the pelting hail of arrowfire softened to a whirr as the arrows whiffed over the top of the truck, retargeted away from the soft flesh of my passengers and even invoking friendly fire amongst the ambushers.
In the chaos, EVI and my drone swarm fed me complete tactical information on the ambush. Of the 26 individuals at the first blockade, 20 were accounted for, and 3 had died from friendly fire. Ahead at the bridge, 5 more of them were at the bridge where a barrier had been hastily erected to cage me in as the river valley was too deep to cross.
“Illunor, we need a bridge,” I said, taking stock of the wellbeing of my passengers.
The bard was huddled down low and suppressing his manafield, but otherwise rather composed. Illunor, on the other hand, was cowering in the gap between the seats with his hands covering his eyes and his tail tucked in.
“A bridge is no small request, Ne- Cadet Emma Booker,” replied Illunor, “and your ‘Emeffdee’ has blinded me to the outside of this moving death trap.”
“If I drop it, can you at least make a ramp?” I asked as I circled the battlefield. Or tried to, at least, as earthen ramparts emerged from the ground from a yet unseen source to cut off other avenues of escape.
“A ramp? Surely you don’t mean-“ he stammered.
“Yes or no,” I said.
Illunor paused, before taking an unsteady breath.
“Yes. But not with that Emeffdee,” he replied.
“Good. Steady your nerves and prepare to make a ramp ahead of us on my signal,” I said, “in the meantime, get your seatbelt on. This is going to be hairy.”
As I circled around to make my approach on the bridge, the final combatant made his appearance on a nearby tree, revealing himself as an elven mage. An alert focused on the air around him indicating he was preparing an unknown high-tier spell, and I locked the predator drone on him indicating the elf as a high-priority target if our escape plan failed, and I was forced to use lethal force.
If I was forced to kill.
It was one thing to know you may have to kill in the line of duty, but it was much harder to reconcile that with reality. No number of simulations could match the real thing, and a part of me wanted to simply offload the responsibility to EVI to keep my hands clean, but to do that would be betraying my duty as a human being. I breathed in deep and tried not to think about it, instead hoping to rely on the ace I held in my sleeve instead.
“EVI, ready the spell jammer,” I said unevenly.
“Acknowledged, the prototype Exo-Radiation Wave-Field Distruptor is primed. High risk target identified and locked, permission to engage?” EVI asked, forcing me to address the dreaded question.
“Negative,” I replied, “hold your fire. If the ramp fails, then you have permission to engage,” I said.
“Affirmative, on your mark,” replied EVI.
I lined up the truck with the bridge and bolted through the smoke, keeping a careful eye on the mage as I went. His spellform took on a more concerning shape as I accelerated, and I realized I could not afford to let him finish his spell. I triggered the spelljammer.
A terrible roar erupted from an array of speakers printed from mana-resistant materials that would have made Godzilla herself beam with pride. The sound was decidedly unnatural, gnarly, dubstep drop composed of an electric eel, a whale, a mountain lion, and a tyrannosaurus rex all being simultaneously assaulted by a swarm of angry cybernetic murder hornets as an equally chaotic wave of mana blasted outwards from the exterior of the truck, with the interior thankfully sheltered by audio and mana dampening.
The ambushing assailants cowered and panicked, and it was enough to cause the Elven mage’s spell to backfire in his face as his form exploded into ashes, meeting a horrific fate which I had tried so desperately to help him avoid. With all the combatants momentarily incapacitated or dead, I lowered the dampener and turned off the smoke.
“Ramp!” I shouted, snapping the lizard back to reality.
The Venerian nodded and hastily formed an earthwork ahead of us right before the blockade, and the truck leapt off the ramp with a not insignificant amount of air beneath our wheels. I braced for impact, regretting skimping on the shocks in the name of preserving materials, but the impact never came.
[Alert: Friendly spell designated ‘Feather Fall’]
Illunor thankfully had enough wherewithal to gently land the steel brick, and I sped off into the distance away from the trap that had unfolded behind us, leaving the interior of the truck in an awkward silence as we each processed our brush with death in our own way. “How many are dead?” I asked EVI.
“6 hostiles confirmed dead,” replied EVI.
I drove on in silence. Those were six deaths I had tried to avoid, and I became lost in thought as I wondered what I should have done differently to avoid the confrontation entirely.
Edhel broke the silence with a bout of laughter.
“Terrific! Absolutely terrific! Why, I can conjure up many a tale from this encounter alone! I live for this kind of inspiration!” Exclaimed Edhel a little too chipperly considering the circumstance.
“I would rather not hear stories about how I bravely ran away,” I moaned in deadpan sarcasm.
“You think too little of yourself, Cadet Emma Booker. It is plain to me that you are no ordinary rabbit. Make no mistake, I see it as a privilege to bear witness to the roar of a vorpal hare!” Said Edhel as he supressed his laughter, “though I am afraid with all the excitement that I must finish my song some other time.”
“How about I play some of our music?” I offered after the elf revealed his thrill-seeking side.
“Splendid, I would like that. Perhaps something of your ‘Roadtrip playlist’ you speak of? It sounds like a collection of your voyages,” said Edhel.
“That would be an improvement on the truth,” said Illunor dismissively as he eased from his state of shock, “it is little more than noise under the pretense of music.”
“Illunor…” I muttered to myself before turning the mic on, “no, no it’s not like that. I have terabytes of pre-recorded songs from various artists back home which can be played by… an artifice called a speaker. A playlist is a set of songs which are grouped together, usually to listen to in specific situations such as studying, partying, or travelling. The latter collection is what Illunor is referring to.”
I very deliberately chose not to reveal my ‘Unfortunate Daughters’ playlist.
“An artifice which plays music, and a magicless one at that. I must say, Emma, I fear for the bards in your realm,” said Edhel with a laugh.
“Your fear is misplaced, Edhel. Entertainers live like kings where I come from,” I retorted with a smirk of my own, “well, the ones with talent at least.”
“Well, well, I suppose I have to hear my competition!” Said Edhel with a laugh.
“Do as you must, though let it be known that I warned you,” said Illunor as he watched a play on his sightseer.
I had EVI compile a list of songs that left out content offensive to Nexian sensibilities or violating OpSec and as it compiled I mused over what type of sample spread I wanted to show off. Then it struck me. What better way to show off our culture than with some good old blue jumpers and nova rock! Sadly, jumpers were unavailable to show but I still had a whole list of modern artists to choose from.
Moments later, the car speakers sprung to life to the tune of ‘Innocent Youth of Mine. Edhel’s eyes lit up like a child visiting a zero-g gravity park for the first time, seemingly star-struck by the antique electric guitar and the synthesizer-drums in particular.
“What… what is this? I have never heard anything like this!” Proclaimed Edhel.
“Dreadful, isn’t it?” said Illunor, doing what he did best and pretending to hate it.
“Oh there is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own, “this one is called ‘Innocent Youth of Mine’ by ‘Cannons and Poppies’. It’s part of the Nova Rock genre.
“And those strange instruments?” Asked Edhel.
“Oh, you mean the electric guitar and the synthesizer. They are electronic instruments, taking advantage of channeled and modulated electricity to create near any sound we can imagine,” I replied.
“Channeled electricity… are you suggesting these sounds were made by some form of lightning?” Asked Edhel.
[Suggestion: Avoid topic of electricity due to OpSec risk]
I nodded at EVI’s warning, thankful that it caught me before I discussed the very thing that all of my equipment ran on.
“It’s not exactly lightning, but close enough,” I said.
“If I had not witnessed to your display of power earlier, I might have perhaps been more skeptical of such a claim, but I suppose a lady must keep her secrets.” said Edhel with a raised eyebrow and chuckle, “but I digress, this music is most interesting.”
“There is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own.
“If I ever have a prisoner in need of torture, I will turn to you first,” replied Illunor, “if you are willing to subject your peers to this madness then I cannot imagine what you would force upon your enemies before dunking them in ice.”
“In your dreams,” I retorted.
I played a few other songs including Astrodesee’s ‘Meteor Struck’, the Martian classic ‘Hotel Cydonia’ and even ‘Switching to Warp’ before Elaseer emerged from the distance, and I pulled up outside the gate to drop Edhel off.
“Here already?” Asked Edhel.
“Well, yeah. I was just running a quick errand, I didn’t want to go too far,” I replied casually.
“That was a distance worth at least five days of walking by foot, and you call that a ‘quick errand’?” Asked Edhel. I shrugged, and he laughed.
“Well in any case, thank you for allowing me passage in your car. I must apologize for my lack of gift or payment…” said Edhel. “Don’t worry about it, it was on the way,” I replied.
“I see, how generous. Perhaps we might one day meet again?” Asked Edhel.
“Maybe, but I’m not sure how likely that is. The academy takes up most of my time,” I replied, “though you never know. I still have a lot of quest hours to complete.”
“Is that so? In that case, I hope we meet again! Goodbye Cadet Emma Booker and farewell Lord Illunor Rularia,” he said. “And good travels to you, bard,” said Illunor.
I waved off Edhel and drove back to the academy, Illunor still sulking in the back seat.
“Perhaps next time, you should steer us away from danger?” Suggested Illunor.
“I tried, but we were tracked,” I replied.
I groaned inwardly at the additional work needed to fix the truck. EVI compiled a list of upgrades for future engagements, batting away my idea for a ‘turbo mode’ and a ‘jump boost’. Though at the end of the day, meeting the bard wasn’t a complete loss. It felt good to talk to someone almost normal for once, and I hoped I met him again.
Edhel Redoehdelnif
I watched as Cadet Emma Booker’s vehicle went off into the distance, getting one last look at the Earthrealmer’s strange artifice before turning towards the gate. The voyage was an exotic experience, not unlike that of a fever dream or a peak into a world completely alien to my own. Indeed, it was a struggle to contain my excitement and enthusiasm and process the experience rationally as I made my way through the southern gates of Elaseer and turned the corner of an alley before entering an impossible structure that did not exist.
“You are earlier than expected,” said the shadowy figure of my handler as I made my way to the meeting hall.
“The Earthrealmer’s means of transportation proved far more expedient than anticipated, my lord” I spoke as I knelt before him, “even with her unexpected departure from the anticipated road and the ambush we traveled for scantly more than an hour.”
“Yes, I will require a full report from you. Perhaps you can shed some light on the ‘smoke dragon’ my men claim intervened on the Earthrealmer’s behalf,” said my handler.
“Smoke Dragon, my lord?” I asked.
My handler responded by activating his sight-seer, revealing how the ambush had appeared from the outside. The Earthrealmer’s uncanny artifice traversed down the road, a pair of manafields displaying proudly from within until the archers began their assault. The artifice then transformed as smoke billowed out from its pores and wings sprung forth above until it was the form of a mighty wrym with a pair of glowing eyes springing forth from its ever extending head where it then gave forth a terrible unholy roar which sent waves of mana outward. The mage working to seal the area and trap their mark vapourized in an instant as his spell backfired. It was apparent to Edhel that his exceptional experience in the carriage was merely a muted rendition of the events unfolding around them.
It would seem the hare had the shadow of a dragon.
“I do have some insight, though I must confess the Earthrealmer did very little in the way of direct action. I suspect she has some unseen means of commanding and scrying through her artifices,” I said, “one which does not utilize magic as we know it.”
“Such a statement is heresy,” said my handler, “but such special circumstances are your reason for being. I will require you submit your memories for verification. What is your appraisal of the new realmer?”
“The girl is far more dangerous than a surface appraisal would suggest, though she prefers to conceal that power rather than utilize it out of a misplaced sense of compassion. Her people appear to have a boundless creative drive through which such artifices are birthed, though again it is misdirected towards more common applications. I believe that if properly tamed, this human animal may provide us with great works of art,” I said with a bow.
“I see. Does the girl know you work for us?” Asked my handler.
“She may harbour some suspicions, though did not voice them outright beyond concealing her knowledge,” I said, “though nothing significant. Provided our next meet is under believable circumstances such as a festival she should view me as cordial.”
“She has indeed proven clever,” conceded my handler, “very well, I will make arrangements for your paths to cross again. Perhaps I will arrange for her to be a contestant at the next inter-academy tournament. In the mean time, prepare your report and don’t wander far. This is a priority assignment.”
“As you wish, my lord,” I said with a bow and a smile.
Emma Booker had proved to be an interesting animal indeed, and I hoped our paths crossed again.

That’s all it was. A game.
Something my friends and I used to play during the summer when we had nothing better to do. I never expected that it would get so out of hand.
I never expected it to come back long after recovery.
To anyone reading, please don’t do what I did.
I’m putting this out there to warn people.
On that warm summer evening, we played the role of Pandora.
Except, the monsters we released were far worse than what’s told in stories.
Because stories end.
And this doesn’t.
I still remember the date. July 16, 2013. I was an upcoming senior in high school while the others were getting prepared for their freshman year of college, raving on about their majors, life plans, dorms, you get the point. The summer had been bittersweet as those months would be the last I’d see them for a while. Because of this, Anthony, Lola, Eliza, and I would spend the bulk of our time together going to festivals and various camping trips, trying to make the most out of the summer while we could. On that day, the day I wish I could forget, Eliza had run late to one of our hangouts at my place. This was odd since as an Ivy league student, she was usually early or right on time to these kind of things. Half past three, we heard her knocking on my door rapidly, which was also out of character considering that she was usually the calm one in our group. A bit worried, I hurried down the stairs with Anthony and Lola following close behind, expecting Eliza to be in hysterics due to her frantic behavior. When I opened the door, however, there she was with a bright smile on her face, her red hair getting in the way of her eyes, which were a dark green shade. She pushed her hair out of her face with one hand and held a brown box in the other, and she was bouncing up and down as she usually does when she’s about to talk about something exciting.
“You’ll never believe what I found.” Eliza’s voice could barely hold her impatience as she stepped inside and kicked her shoes off once she crossed over my threshold.
“What’s up with you today?” Anthony questioned, looking more confused than concerned now.
“I’ll show you guys in a minute. Can we go up to your room, Felix?” Eliza looked over at me with her trademark smile, knowing damn well we were all too curious to just leave that box unopened. Without a word, I led the group up to my room and shut the door after everyone had walked in. Anthony took his usual spot on my beanbag and unzipped his hoodie, which had the MSM logo sprawled across the front in big red letters. He adjusted his dark rimmed glasses and took on his usual stoic expression. Lola wore a dark blue FIT shirt, which she revealed more of when she moved her locs over her shoulder as she sat on my desk chair and wheeled over to us. As she did, the various necklaces she wore clinked against each other. Eliza herself was the smartest out of the group, and probably in the whole school as well. She had gotten accepted into multiple prestigious schools, but ultimately settled for Harvard to pursue a degree in some obscure philanthropic career. Unlike Anthony and Lola, Eliza wore her regular outfit –usually a white tank top and jeans– and sat on my bed with the box in her lap. I took a seat next to her to get a closer look.
“So what’d you find?” The others moved closer.
“Something we probably haven’t thought about for a really long time. Do you guys remember that one game we used to play in middle school? The one we made after Felix joined our class?” Eliza looked at our puzzled faces to see if we had connected the dots, but her clue didn’t seem to strike any of us with familiarity.
“After Felix joined? Didn’t we just hang out or something that weekend?” Anthony questioned.
“We did, but there was something else,” Eliza raised an eyebrow, “you guys seriously don’t remember?”
At that moment, I saw Lola’s eyes light up and a thin smile grew on her lips, something she always did whenever she was able to figure something out.
“You mean that little map game we played? Where we would go out to the woods and explore?”
Both Anthony and I seemed to have remembered as well with the mention of a ‘map game.’ I chimed in, “ yeah I remember! Every once in a while when we were all bored, we’d pick a random spot on a map to go to and explore there for a bit, right? When did we stop doing that anyways? I remember really enjoying it.”
“Well life happens,” Eliza responded to me, “but I was thinking of things to do for the rest of the summer when I suddenly remembered that game! That’s why I was so late for our meetup today, I was looking through my attic for this.” Eliza shook the box slightly and a couple things clattered around inside.
“There’s no way.” Anthony sounded like he was in disbelief.
“You mean…?” Lola sat forward in the chair. Eliza smirked, her adventurous nature creeping out as realization swept over us like a wave.
“Mhm! I found the map we used to use as well as the things we collected from our little escapades.” With that, Eliza opened the box, revealing a folded piece of paper and various trinkets scattered over the bottom of the capsule. Lola squealed with excitement and immediately snatched the box from Eliza, who simply chuckled and leaned back on the bed.
“No way! Everything’s still in here!” Lola digged through the box and placed whatever objects she found across the blanket. Anthony got up and sat at the foot of my bed, to observe our findings more closely. There was a piece of some clay pottery, some rusty springs and scraps of metal, an old digital camera, and some other random stuff I can’t recall to memory right now. Anthony picked up a spring and turned it in his palm.
“Shit man, this is from that abandoned junkyard we found in 8th grade…that feels like such a long time ago now.”
I examined the piece of pottery with Eliza looking over my shoulder. Lola picked up the digital camera.
“Do you remember where this came from?” I turned to Eliza and held up my discovery.
“No clue,” she shrugged. It must have been a while ago if even she didn’t remember. I turned the piece over and grew curious when I saw weird symbols inscribed on the inside of it. I squinted a bit, trying to discern some sort of pattern within the scribbles.
I turned to Eliza again, “hey, what do you think-”
“OH MY GOD GUYS IT STILL WORKS!” Lola’s voice went up a whole octave as she motioned to us.
The rest of us looked up as she turned the camera to face us. There were various photos we went through. All of us at lakes, museums, exploring the woods; everything we did from 7th grade until my freshman year seemed to be documented. The last photo was arguable the best and msot bittersweet. It was a picture of the whole group from a while ago. We were sitting at Eliza’s dinner table with a giant chocolate cake on the middle of it adorned with two candles shaped like the numbers one and five. Eliza was talking to me in the photo. Her hair was even more red at the time and she wore it in a braid. I looked about the same in the photo as I did then, with light brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles scattered all over my body and face. I was smiling sheepishly at Eliza. I now knew why Anthony said it was obvious I had a crush on her in 8th grade. Lola went through the most changes out of all of us. At the time in the photo, she had her hair straightened and side-swept, with a bright pink streak in her bangs. She wore clunky jewlery and a frilly skirt underneath a long tank top, leaning over the table to cut another slice of cake. All of us had birthday hats on except for Anthony, who kept his sitting on the table. He held up a peace sign staring straight into the camera with a stoic expression. He looked like a statue compared to the rest of us, who were laughing and smiling. You could tell he was having fun, though.
“Well don’t you look like a ray of sunshine,” Lola snickered as Anthony shot her a dirty look.
“At least I didn’t go through some weird scene phase in freshman year,” He smiled and watched Lola’s face, knowing she was blushing despite her dark skin which made it practically invisible. I let a laugh slip out, but quickly stifled it knowing that if I kept going it would mean death. Lola side-eyed me and continued, “I was using my creative liberty to experiment with my options as an artist,” she said with an overly-posh accent that made Eliza laugh.
“Yeah Anthony, don’t be such a downer,” Eliza teased. Anthony simply rolled his eyes and suppressed a smile to pretend like he was mad at all of us. He looked into the box and picked up the paper we left, unfolding it with a hint of excitement and curiosity. When he looked at it, only two words came out of his mouth.
“Holy shit.”
“What, what is it?” Lola tried to look at the other side of the paper, but Anthony quickly held it out of her view.
“What if I didn’t want to show you?” A smile crept onto his face. This was one of those rare moments where he’d be in the moos to joke around with us.
“Don’t be a dick bro,” I said, laughing as I went to grab for the paper. Anthony just held it up in the air and pushed me off of him and I landed on my floor. While he was distracted, though, Eliza took her chance and snatched the paper right out of his hand.
“You boys need to learn to be nice,” she warned in her jokingly stern voice as she unfolded the paper and spread it out onto my bed. We all leaned over to look.
It was a map of a couple towns including ours. There were around ten small star stickers placed on different areas on the map near the streets the four of us lived in. On the top of the map, a couple words were scrawled in black sharpie; “Pick a Place!” I could see everyone’s faces light up.
“Oh my god it’s our map!” Lola shouted and pointed to one of the stars near her street, “this was where we found that old junkyard right?”
Eliza smiled, “I remember that. It feels like such a long time ago now.” She pointed to another star, “and this is where we found that lake we made a hideout of. I still remember swimming in there in 8th grade…”
The four of us reminisced for a while, talking about where we had gone and what we did there, and how impressive it was that we didn’t get tetanus from that junkyard. After nearly an hour of conversation, Eliza asked something that made all of us stop.
“So how about it guys? Do you want to do one last round before the summer ends?”
The rest of us looked around at each other. It was clear we all wanted to do it. Eliza seemed to catch on and she nodded.
“Who wants to pick where we go?”
“How about you do the honors?” Lola suggested, motioning towards the map. “You’re the one that brought this stuff in anyways.”
Eliza raised her eyebrow but didn’t object. Without a word, she examined the map for a few minutes, then placed her finger on one spot a bit far from my house.
“How about here?”
“You think we can make it that far?” Anthony asked.
“Well, we can drive now so why not?”
“You sure there’s some type of trail we can drive on? That spot looks pretty deep in the woods”
“We can find a path to drive on for a bit then walk the rest of the way. C’mon guys, this is probably our last chance to do something like this! Felix, you can drive right?”
Eliza and the rest turned to me with a hopeful expression. I had to comply.
“Sure. No big deal, right?”
All three of them cheered and high fived each other, looking pretty excited to go on one last adventure.
“So when do we leave?” I questioned.
Eliza flashed that smile again, “right now.”
“Right now?!”
“Hell yeah,” Lola chimed in. “It shouldn’t take that long, right?”
“I guess…” Even then I felt uneasy about the whole thing. I didn’t feel prepared enough to go on some random trip into the woods. I needed to pack food, water, flashlights, I had no idea how long this was going to take. Little did I know that those things would be the least of my worries a couple hours from then. I wish I could go back and convince my 17-year-old self that it wasn’t worth it, that I should just convince my friends to stay and talk for the rest of the day. I wish Eliza had never remembered that stupid game. In a way, I’m almost mad at her for what happened, but I know it wasn’t anyones fault. We just wanted to have fun. I wish we could’ve just had fun. But God had a different plan for us. One that made me think Satan himself devised it instead. On July 16, 2013, Anthony He, Lola Smith, Eliza Landserson, and Felix Johanson went on an adventure that none of them were ready for.
Author's Note:
If you just read all of that then thank you so so so much for doing so! I'm a rookie writer, so feel free to comment any constructive criticism you might have if you have actual writing experience! This is the first silly little story I'm posting here, so I hope you enjoyed :)

My gf has a coworker whom she befriended but never hung out with. They text eachoter every so often. Now that the coworker is leaving the country. Just the two of them went to grab dinner to say their farewells. But now my gf wants to go see him off at the aiport. I told my gf i was not comfortable with that decision. But she insists on going. I just dont get that she went out of her way to go see the coworker off.

I (18F) have always known my dad (53M) wasn’t the most healthy person in the world. For some context on my family and to make sure it’s a whole picture i’m basically going to trauma dump, so TW for sexual assault i guess? When i was two he and my mom(48F) got a divorce because he was using drugs and alcohol to cope with some of his past traumas, while never putting in any work to get past them. After the divorce he ended up being put in prison after receiving multiple DUI’s (im not entirely sure how it happened exactly, i was two or three when he was locked up) and it got him locked up till I was six. My mom, despite having every reason to speak badly of my father, never said anything negative about him. She would take me to visit him, let me read the letters he sent me (when i actually could read, and she would write my replies down for me), and always let me talk to him when he called. We lived with my grandparents while he was locked up. After he got out he spent a long time working to get past his unhealthy coping mechanisms. He lives with his parents for two years and i would visit often. When i was eight he finally had a stable enough job to have both me and my mother move back in with him. I was young, and stupid, and when they asked me if i was okay with it I said yes. We moved into a single wide mobile home in my dad’s home town. My entire life was uprooted and replanted. I began classes in my new school and was bullied for most of my time there. I was told to “suck it up, bullies aren’t that bad.” even though in middle school i was pushed down a very steep flight of stairs and almost broke my arm. My grades began slipping and i went from a gifted child to a burn out really quick. My dad would yell at me and my mom for my grades, then get mad when i couldn’t understand how explained something to me. By thirteen i was suicidal and it was “an attempt to get attention” according to my dad. He had begun to pick fights with my mom over the littlest things. The house wasn’t clean enough, she didn’t make dinner fast enough, my room was a mess. (it was the size of a medium sized walk in closet.) And then my older (half) brother moved in with us. He (32M, let’s call him Michael) had never had a stable life and my dad coddled him because he felt like he had failed him. He had, but Michael was always a screwed up dude, so it only added into it. Anyways, over the course of the next three years my older brother would come to sexually assault me about five times over the next three years. We ended up moving into a larger house when i was about fifteen and i ended up going into counseling and learning that i had been groomed and conditioned to be basically unaware of the trauma inflicted on my by my brother since i was a kid. My dad, when i was seven and my brother a teenager, would turn a blind eye to Michael basically bashing my head into the island counter whenever he would steal something like food from me. My grandparents would always intervene and he would call me a whiner. At night he would tell me all sorts of things and make it seem like he was my only friend in the world. He kept doing it my entire life. My father, who had stopped drinking, had begun again because my grandfather was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer and has been fighting for him life since, it’s been about eight years i think since they had to pull him out of remission because the cancer came back. This is when he really became a nightmare. Depending on what type of alchohol he drinks his mood goes a few ways. Whiskey and he gets angry. Tequila and he gets all sappy and lovey dovey(this makes me very uncomfortable because he hasn’t ever been very openly affectionate), beer and he’s just a happy drunk, and wine and he gets sad. Sometimes it switches up but normally this is how it goes. After i finally told my parents about my brother and what he had done and him getting kicked out, he began to bury himself in alcohol. I had to get over it fast because he was blaming anyone within pissing distance. Eventually he would cry to me about how he had failed him son, to the daughter that his son had raped. it was really fucked up, and he only ever said that when he was drunk. (I want to say that my dad isn’t an inherently terrible person, he didn’t have a good life growing up and generational trauma hits hard.)He has been using drinking as a way to escape reality for a long time. It’s caused a great deal of arguments and both of my parents asking “what they do to deserve this” while my dad accuses me of treating him like garbage (he says the same thing to my mom). We’ve had to leave the house and spend a few days with other people before because i was scared he was going to hit us instead of the walls next time, multiple times. The most recent bought of fighting has been happening over the last three days. (for more context i moved out right after i turned eighteen, i became a manager at my workplace and was able to live with friends) I’ve been visiting my family and spending time with them since i haven’t really had time the past few months. I guess my mom found out that he had been receiving nudes from other women on messenger and wanted AT LEAST an apology. My dad blamed it on a married friend who was using his phone. it was a lie because he’s been receiving them almost every day. and commenting on them. it makes me sick to think about. he has begun blaming my mom for it. saying she ruined our old house, that she has to one up him, and saying “do you really wanna go there?” while he was the one who fucked up. After screaming at each other for nearly an hour he said he wanted to break up. My mom spiraled and wanted to kill herself. Her psychiatrist that she had a tele-health call with that day, asked me to basically watch my mom to make sure she doesn’t kill herself. I took her pills and asked my dad to lock up his guns. he took this as her “one -upping him”. Yesterday while i was back at my apartment i got a call from my mom explaining that he had gotten drunk and had told her to kill herself. She had left and was at a bridge to watch the water. I drove back in a panic since i live a town over. Today, my father was drunk again and asked me to go spend time alone so he could screw my mom. I didn’t want to be there so i showered and got ready to leave. Turns out their conversation had shifted and he was berating her for “not letting him discipline me”. I guess that after years of pent up anger never being touched on, i finally snapped and began yelling at him. I called him a hypocrite and he called me a bitch. And basically i left as he began to destroy things around the house. That was after i told him if he kept going this way i would cut contact. I’m currently sitting at our outdoor sports complex writing this because everyone i know is busy and i don’t want to bother them. I just needed to get it out. I don’t know if cutting contact is the right thing to do. Of if it makes me an asshole. I’m only eighteen. I don’t know what to do anymore.

I (F22) have a friend we can fall Max M(21) we started out as co-workers in college (January 2022) Max was in a long term relationship with his HS gf and I had just gotten out of a super toxic relationship. We were purely platonic and in a friend group together. I started dating guys causally and he stayed with his girlfriend often times doing group dates. Everything was going well. Fast forward to August 2022 Max broke up with his girlfriend. I wasn’t seeing anyone at the time and we hung out in friend groups, he was a little flirty and a mutual friend we had (Ashley) would always ask me if I would ever be into Max and would say we would be so cute together. At the time it was so platonic I couldn’t see myself with him at all, he was cute and kind but I just couldn’t imagine myself being sexual with him. I didn’t think too much about Ashley’s comments and I assumed she was just being a typical girl trying to be a match maker. I also didn’t think much about Max’s flirty vibe because he was naturally like that and he had mention he was crushing on a regular customer we had at work. I even encouraged him to date her. And after a while he did date her, it lasted 4 months and he dumped (February 2023) her because it wasn’t going well.
Fast forward to April 2023 I was about to graduate college and move across the country when Max started asking to hang out one on one, we went on three unofficial dates and it finally hit me that he did actually like me, I still did not like him in that way but I hadn’t had sex in about a year and didn’t want to move to a new place with out having had sex in such a long time and being rusty (I know stupid logic) so we started sleeping together and it went from friends, to friends with benefits, to just hooking up and leaving without speaking much really quickly. We did this for a month and half and then I had to move (May 2023). At this point I had finally developed feelings for him but he now only saw me as a sex object (I assume).
His brother lived where I was moving so in July 2023 he went to see his brother and came to see me a few times. I did not treat him too well, I let him sleep over one night and didn’t make him breakfast and kinda rushed him out the next morning, in my defense I was acting like the sex object he saw me as, I wasn’t going to act like a girlfriend and do things he didn’t deserve. (He did Uber 40 minutes one way to see, I don’t think any guy in their right mind would do that for just sex) I then over the course of next year flew home a few times and saw him each time, when I flew home he would take me out to dinner first and then we’d go back to his place. We never texted or talked unless I was flying home and it was only to set up our “date” then we’d go back to never texting.
Then he went to basic training in April 2024. He asked me to write him letters everyday and I did. In one of his letters he sent to me he wrote that if he saw me he would cry, elope, and run away with me. When he got out of basic training it was a complete 360 from our usual behavior , he texted me every day for about 2 weeks and called me a few times. He even sent me a picture of himself and asked me to put it in my wallet. He also asked me to keep writing him letters even though he was out of basic training. He said he would re-read my letters and that they made him so happy, he said thought a lot about me while at basic and after. He was being very flirty again.
Something I forgot to mention: We both have jobs that make us move around a lot and would be difficult to ever be in the same place.
It seems like thing went from him liking me> him treating me like a sex object> back to friends with benefits but only speaking when I flew home> him speaking to me everyday> to now?
The advise I’m looking for is: Does he like me or is it just a typical case of a man playing games and wanting no strings sex ?
Are his intentions pure and this is just a confusing situation?
could this ever work and how would it work?
And just generally what the fuck is going on here?
Thanks Reddit! This is my first post so apologies if it’s long and poorly written!
Real life Max if you read this pretend like you didn’t.

As per my last post, I asked about doing it the old school way (mail fan letters to networks to pick up the show). You guys are great and replied with sending postcards. Go read it here to see where we're at https://www.reddit.com/SohelpmeTodd/comments/1ctze8e/to_save_this_show_should_we_do_it_old_school/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
I did some googling and found the addresses of their studios and addresses. I went to my walgreens and bought a stack of postcards (they were cheap so i grabbed a bunch). And going to send it after dinner. I'll post the pictures of the actual written cards later. But i got super excited so i'm posting the addresses here first, then posting an update later.
Here are the addresses:
Peacock TV: 30 Rockefeller Plaza New York, NY 10112
Disney-ABC Home Entertainment and Television Distribution: 500 S. Buena Vista St. Burbank, CA 91521
NBC Universal: 30 Rockefeller Plaza. New York, NY 10112
FOX Entertainment Group: 1211 Avenue of the Americas New York, NY 10036
FOX Entertainment: 10201 W Pico Blvd Los Angeles CA 90064
Roku (Physical Address): 1173 Coleman Avenue San Jose, CA 95110
Roku (Mailing address): 1701 Junction Court, Suite 100 San Jose, CA 95112
(What i didn't know is that NBC owns peacock, so they are in the same building. And Fox has 2 addresses, one studio in CA and a headquarter in NY). Something else interesting i've found is that the Ceo of fox left and is now at roku. Not really related but just wanted to share.
For the debbie downers out there that will say there's no use in trying. Please don't kill my vibe and optimism. I'm just a fan trying to save a show. Thanks for reading!

I'm going to try my best to make this story concise. But I'm looking for an unbiased opinion on my relationship/breakup since I have no one else to vent to. My friend group is generally the type of guys who would disregard any sort of feeling ("just get over it, dude") and I don't even want to bring my family into it. So here goes:
About 8 months ago I began a relationship with a girl I met online. We hit it off immediately on our first date, it was a feeling/spark I've never had before. We quickly went on dozens of unique dates - a baseball game, farmers markets, arcades, nice dinners, movie nights at my house, gym dates. Everything was going amazing - our personalities blended perfectly, we had zero fights, arguments, or disagreements. Intimacy and passion were there. It felt too good to be true. After a few months she was saying things like how lucky she was to have met me and how much of a gentleman/kind person I was. She told me about her past experiences with exes that mistreated her, cheated on her, etc and the baggage that came along with it. So naturally I went above & beyond to make her feel loved, validated, worthy. Shortly into the new year, she texts me out of the blue that my sometimes-slow text responses (I travel for work & she obviously knew that) triggered her & she needs to take time away. We met in person, she broke it off & told me she needs time to heal from her insecurities. I was devasted but understanding. I told her I loved her and will be open to her again when she is ready. In the meantime she blocked me & fully deleted her Instagram, even though I respected her space.
In March she reached out again. We quickly picked up where we left off and she told me about all the healing & personal improvement she'd done in the time apart. After a few friendly but intimate meet-ups I spilled my heart out to her & told her my intent of trying a relationship again but this time, stronger. I would do my absolute best to communicate with her frequently and help ease any fears/insecurities she had. She seemed thrilled with my newfound openness, we had talks about fate/God bringing us together again & she said "absolutely yes, but all I ask is that we take things slow so I don't get triggered again." The past 7-8 weeks were amazing, our relationship seemed stronger than before. We were texting frequently, FaceTiming almost daily, and seeing each other 2-3 times per week when our schedules aligned. We were talking about the future again (our family goals, etc.) & all of the dates we had lined up. She had me sign up at her local gym so we could be consistent workout partners. We went out with her best friend so she could introduce us. We planned double dates with our coworkers. A few Fridays ago, we both took off work & spent the entire day together, from 7am to midnight. I gifted her baseball attire as a callback to the first baseball game I took her to, and she was so excited. It was amazing - I saw my future in front of me and I had zero concerns. It felt like one of the greatest days of my life.
The next day, she was "out with friends" but would text me as soon as she was home so we could FaceTime. Instead, I got several calls from a random number. When I finally answered, it was another man telling me that he was her boyfriend. I hung up & broke down. I called her number that night and the morning after and got nothing. She finally called me at night and told me what I can only assume are lies about their relationship. That they were never in a relationship and she never cheated on me when we were together, but they were seeing each other intermittently. She also said she feels that I deserve someone better than her. Somehow I kept my composure but I was so disgusted at how someone could spend the entire day prior with you, tell you how much they love you, and be a liar the whole time without remorse.
The next day I wrote a letter telling her how hurtful it was, but that in spite of everything I loved her & forgive her and hoped we could reconnect after things settled down, and dropped it off at her work. A week later, she texted me that it was "inappropriate to visit her work during what was implied to be no-contact and make her feel vulnerable. She's trying with her "ex" & doesn't want to involve me any more than she has." She immediately blocked me afterwards (despite me not saying anything to her) & I have no way of contacting her again now that her social media is gone. It's been weeks and I'm still just as confused and devastated. I'm blaming myself for things out of my control and left wondering what I could have done differently. My heart wants her back but at the same time my brain knows there's nothing I can do, nor should do to prove myself further. All I'm left with are amazing memories, an abrupt end, and a membership to her gym that I pretty much can't use anymore.
If you made it this far, thank you for listening. It really did help just to get things off my chest.