How to make a snake out of keyboard
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2012.07.08 14:47 ripster55 r/MechanicalKeyboards for all the Click and None of the Clack!
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2009.12.14 10:33 Get rated on your appearance
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2024.06.02 19:26 JMO_the_1st My Village People - Chapter 2
My return to Lagos had me at first paranoia stricken and looking for people from the village around every corner. After a few uneventful months though, I was feeling like the old Duke again. The nightmares stopped plaguing me entirely.
I felt so good with myself in fact, that I decided to try my luck with Ameh again. Ameh was a fellow associate at my office. I’d made several advances in the past and been blown off. She was just playing hard to get though, I knew she was. Other than Dellia, Ameh was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen – you think that would have warned me but it didn’t. I knew I could get in trouble with HR if she decided she’d had enough but it definitely felt worth it.
I was just entering her office, prepared to ask her out and be turned down yet again when we were both called into Mistress Death’s office by her secretary. Mistress Death is what we called our General Manager, Mrs. Lara. She was known for her ruthlessness and cruelty. She was so distant from her juniors that none of us even knew her first name and honestly, I didn’t care to know.
Being called into her office meant one of two things; you were either being given a serious opportunity and she wanted to impress the importance of your success on you or you’d fucked up terribly and she wanted to drop the axe herself. I prayed to all the divinities I knew that it wasn’t the second option.
When we got into the office, her chair was turned toward the wall away from us. She was inspecting a painting that by my guess had been recently installed. It was an odd choice if you ask me, it had a man on it eating what appeared to be a decomposing dog carcass with his hands while a man in regal clothing watched.
She didn’t turn to face us for about two minutes after we’d entered and we knew better than to speak first or presume to sit without being told. Both of which I did – I still have no idea why.
“Good day, Mrs. Lara. Wonderful weather we’re having today.” I said as I settled into one of the chairs opposite the table from her. Ameh hesitated for a second then followed my example.
“Hmm?” She seemed surprised as she turned to face us. “Pardon me. I was absorbed in the painting.” That was unusual. She never apologized for anything ever.
“Please, sit.” She said as she sent us a piercing look that made Ameh wince.
“Thank you ma’am. You’re looking very wonderful today.” She attempted some damage control but Mrs. Lara didn’t care for it.
Without even acknowledging the words spoken, Mrs. Lara continued talking about the painting. Are you familiar with the story it is inspired by?”
“What ma’am?”
“The painting of course!”
“Oh. Well, I’m afraid not ma’am.” I replied for both of us since Ameh was too terrified to answer.
“The story is rather straightforward. It goes like this; once upon a time, the favorite hunting dog of a great king fell gravely ill. The king ordered that the dog be put out of its misery and buried as a member of the family.
The king’s animal master however, seeing an opportunity to ingratiate himself to the king, asked that the animal be given to him and he’d revive it. The man knew a lot about animals and was confident he’d cure the dog.
The priests also had something to tell the king. They told him they would perform royal rites for the dog only if it was given to them that day. Any more delay and they would no longer be willing to bend their sacred laws. The animal master insisted, claiming there would be no need for a burial at all if it was given to him. The king gave in and entrusted the animal to him.
Try as he could, he couldn't save the dog and it died. Perhaps it was just too old, who knows? The point is, it died in his care and this naturally, infuriated the king who gave the animal keeper a cruel, disgusting and unusual punishment.”
Please don’t tell me he made the man eat the dead dog!
“He made him eat the dead dog. Raw.”
God no! Why would he do that?
“The animal master ate the corpse, was stripped and forced to wear its fur as his only clothing before being banished forever.”
“All that for a little mistake? The king went overboard for sure, not to mention defiled the body of the dog he supposedly loved.” I’d forgotten myself and spoken freely. Rookie mistake.
Despite my blunder, all I got was a little “hmm” and she went on with her monologue about the painting. “You might be wondering why I told you this story, but it’ll make sense soon.”
“You see, there’s a very big, very problematic client we’re looking to acquire. I can’t give them to any high tier agents because I can’t have any single one of them devote their entire capacity to any one portfolio and I can’t give them to a team of lower level agents because I actually want to acquire them as a client.”
I love where this is going
“That’s where you both come in. You’re somewhere in the middle of these two groups. You two are more competent than seven of my lower ranking agents and put together might just be a match for one of my best agents.
Now, this client is the dog, you the animal master and I, the king. I’ll only ask this once, can you take this job on? If you’re successful, one or both of you could be looking at making partner in the near future.
However, if you fail this, my punishment for losing this client will be severe, cruel and to quote you Duke, “overboard”.
So? What will it be? I want an answer now.”
This was a huge opportunity. How could I possibly say no? This was the sort of opportunity everyone hoped for. “I accept ma’am. I won’t let you down, I promise.”
“You’d better not. What about you, Ms. Okon?”
“Hmm?” Ameh seemed dazed by what she’d just heard “I uum… I accept as – as well ma’am.” She sounded slightly unsure.
“Good. I expect you both to work around the clock on this. I don’t care if that means staying awake till the day of our meeting with their representatives – it’s in a week by the way. Mind you, staying awake is no excuse to show up to the meeting drowsy. I expect perfection at the meeting. One slip up and you won’t like the outcome.
With that, we were dismissed and I went to get the files on the new client from Mrs. Lara’s secretary. There, I had my first incident since the village. Just as she passed me the folder, I had what I could only say was a vision.
The secretary morphed into Dellia only this time she had red eyes and long white-blond hair that waved in the breezeless air like tentacles. She looked me in the eye and told me: “I’ve come for you at last sweetheart. I’ve been so lonely since you abandoned me back in the village.” She looked at me disapprovingly before her face softened and she smiled. “Doesn’t matter though I’m here now.”
“D-Dellia. How?” I asked in shock.
“We can’t be separated. Not even by distance. You love me remember?”
“No!!” I shouted at her.
“Uh… Mr. Obasale, is everything alright?” A voice that was definitely not Dellia’s asked me. I looked to see Mrs. Lara’s secretary staring up at me holding the folder and looking confused. “These are the files you asked for.”
“Right, right. I’m fine. Perfectly fine. Thank you very much.”
There were no more incidents that week. Not while I spoke with Tiny Tim about my plans to ask Ameh out again, not when I asked Ameh out over drinks after work, not when she turned me down or when I found out she was from Esa (a distant village that my village has had a generational feud with for… well, generations).
No, all was perfectly normal the entire week up to the day of the meeting. The meeting was going well all things considered, the clients seemed interested and my presentation was a hit – I made it, so no surprise there – and then it happened.
I saw her again. In the chair opposite mine. I would have assumed I was seeing things had Ameh not screamed “Who are you and what are you doing here, you witch?” She put her hand over her mouth as if she’d misspoken, but that was all the confirmation I needed.
I leapt at Dellia like a wild animal and attempted to choke her to death.
“Die, witch. Die and leave me alone.” I screamed at her as I squeezed with all the force I could muster. Suddenly something heavy smacked into the side of my head and I fell to the floor.
Getting up, I saw the lead representative of the client gasping for air as his colleagues attended to him. Ameh was standing in a corner looking terrified and Mrs. Lara had a keyboard raised over her head ready to swing in my direction. I could see security already on their way. I had no idea what was going on.
At the end of the day, Ameh and I both lost our jobs and Mrs. Lara promised us we’d never work in advertisement or brand management anywhere in Nigeria ever again. She said she’d let us off easy because my mental illness made her “feel sorry” for me.
Ameh was devastated. She completely refused to speak to me and left the office in tears. I felt terrible. I knew how much she loved her job. I decided to put an end to my problems once and for all. I needed to reach Dellia somehow and set her straight.
I picked up my phone to call someone and ask for her number but wouldn’t you know it? Her number was already in my phone. In fact, it was top of my ‘recent contacts’ list even though I’d never called her before. Definite withcraft but whatever it was, I was done with it.
I called her and told her as much. She didn’t protest, didn’t even sound worried. Her only reply was “When I’m home, we’ll talk more about this okay? Why don’t you rest a bit while you wait for me?” before she hung up.
“Wait, what? Dellia, when you get home where?” I asked in confusion.
“Our house, of course. Or don’t you know where you are?” She giggled like I’d just cracked a joke.
I had no idea what she was talking about and I didn’t want to find out. I tried calling back but the line didn’t go through. I sat up on the bed while wondering what to do. All of a sudden, I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around to see Dellia on the bed behind me.
I should have been freaked out and screamed or run away, but I just leaned into her as she kissed me and straddled my legs. She kissed me again and again, more passionately than before as she guided me inside her and her body undulated on top of mine.
I couldn’t think straight, I was lost in her and in the moment. I kissed her neck, then the well of her collarbone, before my lips shifted to the swell of her breasts and I sucked on her nipples as I got closer and closer to climax. The only sounds I could hear were her moans and the rhythm of our bodies colliding.
Just as I was about to finish, I heard her shriek above me and her body began to convulse. The sound of her climax drew mine out of me. I grunted out my release and collapsed back into the bed panting.
She looked down at me smiling, I smiled back. I was still riding the high of my orgasm. She lay hear head on my shoulder and stroked my chest. “It’s done now.” She said.
“What is?” I asked, unsure what she meant.
“The bond between us.” She said with a satisfied smile. “We are one now, you and I. You are mine like I am yours.” With that, she placed another kiss on my lips and I jolted awake. I was alone in my bed.
“Oh, it was just a dream. I must have fallen asleep.” I said rubbing my eyes. I felt a slimy wetness in my pants. I’d had a wet dream. Stories about spirit wives and spirit husbands came to mind immediately. I would have dismissed that as stupid superstition some months before, but now those thoughts had me scared out of my skin.
I didn’t know what to do, but I knew one thing for sure; I wasn’t staying in that house by myself and I definitely couldn’t allow myself to fall asleep again. No way.
I picked the nearest place that popped into my head: Tiny Tim’s house. I rang the doorbell and waited for Tim to answer the door while looking round to make sure Dellia wasn’t hiding behind a tree somewhere.
As soon as he opened the door, I burst into the house without even giving him time to ask what I was doing there. As soon as I was inside, he of course asked what I was doing in his house without warning.
“Yeah, sorry about just barging in without even calling first. It’s just…” I thought about telling him the truth, but he’d only think I was crazy or worse, he’d actually believe me. Either way, he’d want me out of his house as soon as I started talking. So instead…
“… I’m just devastated by everything y’know? I lost my job and not only that, I’m pretty sure I’ll never get to work in Lagos ever again. I think I might be in the middle of an emotional breakdown. I just need to be with a friend this evening. Awake, definitely awake.” I was aware I sounded weird stressing the awake part, but it was very important.
“Honestly Duke, I would love to help you out. Hang out and everything, but my wife just got back from a long journey and we’d like to spend some time alone together. I’m sure you understand.”
I didn’t know what to say, I hadn’t even imagined that Tiny Tim had a wife. After all, we called him that because he had a childish demeanor to him and seemed to suddenly become handicapped whenever women were around. Honestly, I didn’t believe him.
“Timothy, I really need help okay? It’s not because any emotional breakdown or whatever.” I decided to tell him the truth - the whole unabridged version. He didn’t even seem to fully process my story, just gave me the same reply as before. I wasn’t going to let him push me out there with…whatever Dellia was especially not after it had gotten dark.
“Tim, stop with these lies about your wife. Which wife? You can’t even talk to a girl and you’re trying to tell me that you were actually able to propose to someone? Let’s be serious now, come on.” I said the last line with a laugh, imagining Tiny Tim trying to propose to some mystery lady.
My smile faded when I heard a woman’s voice from within the house. “Hon, I’m out of the shower and ready for you. Hold on, is there someone else with you?”
“Just a friend from work. Don’t worry though, he’s about leaving.”
My jaw dropped open and didn’t close until I was standing outside Timothy’s door. I got into my car and drove off with the windows up. I wasn’t sure where I was going to go but I’d drive round the entirety of Lagos forever if I had to.
“Where are we going babe?”
“I don’t know Dellia, I’m just trying to get away from… from you.” I quickly turned to the back seat but was greeted by an empty car.
“Listen, I’m tired so let’s just go back home alright?” I realized I could see her in the rearview. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you! What do you want with me!?” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
“Nothing really, I just want you to love me. That’s all.” I felt her hand rubbing my chest even though I couldn’t see it. “Won’t you love me? Please?” I remembered what she’d told me the night we first met.
“You need me to say it seven times right?” I didn’t care anymore, I needed to get rid of her. “I love you, I love you, I lo…”
“Stop, stop, stop!!” She screamed at me in an otherworldly voice that chilled my bones and nearly stopped my heart. “You can’t claim to love me when you’re scared. There are certain emotions love can’t mix with. Fear is one of them. You have to try your hardest to mean it when you say I love you.”
“I can’t Dellia, I don’t love you. I’m sorry.” I said, hoping she’d accept that and leave me alone at last.
“No. You can and you will.” She screamed at me again in the voice. Letting my fear take over my body, I stopped the car suddenly and bolted into the nearest public compound I could find.
Turned out to be a hotel. I found two guards sitting in chairs outside. I walked up to them. I offered them both #20,000 for every hour they stayed awake with me and kept any mirrors away from me. Those were the two ways I had seen her manifest.
I called Driver up to ask where he was and if he could come meet up with me. He said he was in Lagos on business and he could come meet me immediately. I don’t know why I thought to call him before anyone else. I waited for him for a few hours before a car that looked like his pulled into the parking lot.
Out of the car however, stepped Dellia not driver. She walked towards me seductively. I tried to run but the guards I was sitting with held me down so I was unable to move. She moved closer and closer and then… The guards shook me awake.
Apparently, I had fallen asleep and the guards couldn’t wake me up until Driver came along. We went in his car and he drove me round Lagos. I wracked my brain for the next step to take. That was when I remembered: Ameh saw her back at the meeting, maybe she could help me out. Or at least, I’d have a comrade in my perils or whatever.
I got to her house just as her roommate was leaving. I met her sniffing into tissues wrapped in a blanket and looking all-round defeated. I tried explaining my situation to her and asking her what she saw or thinks she saw at the office. She didn’t even seem receptive to my story.
She did say she was glad to know it was my spiritual problem and not hers.
As we were talking, something cut through her doors and Dellia burst through. I hid myself behind a chair in the dining. Ameh rather than hiding, actually went to face Dellia and promptly got thrown into a corner.
Scared, I stood and held my hands up in surrender as she walked menacingly towards me with her hair waving even though there was no wind. Unexpectedly, she smashed into a wall and then smashed into it again repeatedly. Dumbfounded, I turned to see Ameh with her hands stretched towards the helpless Dellia. Her eyes glowed blue and her nails had grown longer than I thought possible.
Dellia was able to throw herself off the wall and at Ameh starting a fight that had it been under other circumstances, I would have found entertaining. Under the present circumstances however, my first instinct was to run. Still, against my better judgement, I stepped in to break up the fight.
Big mistake that, I got a slash across the chest for my peacemaking ways. It sent me into the opposite wall and hurt like hell. The girls ceased their fighting immediately and rushed to my side.
“Duke! Are you alright?” Dellia asked.
“Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just a bruise.” I replied, wincing at the pain.
“It can’t be a bruise.” Dellia said, sounding worried. I got up and showed them my chest where my shirt was sliced through. A few welts had already formed, but nothing more.
“How? It can’t be. She used those nails to slice through my door. That’s a bulletproof door. You can’t just be bruised.” Ameh sounded very perplexed.
“I dunno, I’ve never gotten hurt beyond bruising in my life. Just seems normal” it had never occurred to me how weird that was till that moment.
“It’s true then.” Ameh spoke with an almost religious tone in her voice. “I knew it was true.”
“That’s why Bámí and the rest of the coven wanted me to get him in so badly.” Dellia mused.
“What?” I asked, holding my chest and having absolutely no idea what was going on.
“You, Duke Obaìsàlè are one of the chosen, the co-heir to the thrones of witches and the marine realm.” Ameh said, looking at me like she’d just seen a million dollars.
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submitted by JMO_the_1st to HFY [link] [comments]
I felt so good with myself in fact, that I decided to try my luck with Ameh again. Ameh was a fellow associate at my office. I’d made several advances in the past and been blown off. She was just playing hard to get though, I knew she was. Other than Dellia, Ameh was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen – you think that would have warned me but it didn’t. I knew I could get in trouble with HR if she decided she’d had enough but it definitely felt worth it.
I was just entering her office, prepared to ask her out and be turned down yet again when we were both called into Mistress Death’s office by her secretary. Mistress Death is what we called our General Manager, Mrs. Lara. She was known for her ruthlessness and cruelty. She was so distant from her juniors that none of us even knew her first name and honestly, I didn’t care to know.
Being called into her office meant one of two things; you were either being given a serious opportunity and she wanted to impress the importance of your success on you or you’d fucked up terribly and she wanted to drop the axe herself. I prayed to all the divinities I knew that it wasn’t the second option.
When we got into the office, her chair was turned toward the wall away from us. She was inspecting a painting that by my guess had been recently installed. It was an odd choice if you ask me, it had a man on it eating what appeared to be a decomposing dog carcass with his hands while a man in regal clothing watched.
She didn’t turn to face us for about two minutes after we’d entered and we knew better than to speak first or presume to sit without being told. Both of which I did – I still have no idea why.
“Good day, Mrs. Lara. Wonderful weather we’re having today.” I said as I settled into one of the chairs opposite the table from her. Ameh hesitated for a second then followed my example.
“Hmm?” She seemed surprised as she turned to face us. “Pardon me. I was absorbed in the painting.” That was unusual. She never apologized for anything ever.
“Please, sit.” She said as she sent us a piercing look that made Ameh wince.
“Thank you ma’am. You’re looking very wonderful today.” She attempted some damage control but Mrs. Lara didn’t care for it.
Without even acknowledging the words spoken, Mrs. Lara continued talking about the painting. Are you familiar with the story it is inspired by?”
“What ma’am?”
“The painting of course!”
“Oh. Well, I’m afraid not ma’am.” I replied for both of us since Ameh was too terrified to answer.
“The story is rather straightforward. It goes like this; once upon a time, the favorite hunting dog of a great king fell gravely ill. The king ordered that the dog be put out of its misery and buried as a member of the family.
The king’s animal master however, seeing an opportunity to ingratiate himself to the king, asked that the animal be given to him and he’d revive it. The man knew a lot about animals and was confident he’d cure the dog.
The priests also had something to tell the king. They told him they would perform royal rites for the dog only if it was given to them that day. Any more delay and they would no longer be willing to bend their sacred laws. The animal master insisted, claiming there would be no need for a burial at all if it was given to him. The king gave in and entrusted the animal to him.
Try as he could, he couldn't save the dog and it died. Perhaps it was just too old, who knows? The point is, it died in his care and this naturally, infuriated the king who gave the animal keeper a cruel, disgusting and unusual punishment.”
Please don’t tell me he made the man eat the dead dog!
“He made him eat the dead dog. Raw.”
God no! Why would he do that?
“The animal master ate the corpse, was stripped and forced to wear its fur as his only clothing before being banished forever.”
“All that for a little mistake? The king went overboard for sure, not to mention defiled the body of the dog he supposedly loved.” I’d forgotten myself and spoken freely. Rookie mistake.
Despite my blunder, all I got was a little “hmm” and she went on with her monologue about the painting. “You might be wondering why I told you this story, but it’ll make sense soon.”
“You see, there’s a very big, very problematic client we’re looking to acquire. I can’t give them to any high tier agents because I can’t have any single one of them devote their entire capacity to any one portfolio and I can’t give them to a team of lower level agents because I actually want to acquire them as a client.”
I love where this is going
“That’s where you both come in. You’re somewhere in the middle of these two groups. You two are more competent than seven of my lower ranking agents and put together might just be a match for one of my best agents.
Now, this client is the dog, you the animal master and I, the king. I’ll only ask this once, can you take this job on? If you’re successful, one or both of you could be looking at making partner in the near future.
However, if you fail this, my punishment for losing this client will be severe, cruel and to quote you Duke, “overboard”.
So? What will it be? I want an answer now.”
This was a huge opportunity. How could I possibly say no? This was the sort of opportunity everyone hoped for. “I accept ma’am. I won’t let you down, I promise.”
“You’d better not. What about you, Ms. Okon?”
“Hmm?” Ameh seemed dazed by what she’d just heard “I uum… I accept as – as well ma’am.” She sounded slightly unsure.
“Good. I expect you both to work around the clock on this. I don’t care if that means staying awake till the day of our meeting with their representatives – it’s in a week by the way. Mind you, staying awake is no excuse to show up to the meeting drowsy. I expect perfection at the meeting. One slip up and you won’t like the outcome.
With that, we were dismissed and I went to get the files on the new client from Mrs. Lara’s secretary. There, I had my first incident since the village. Just as she passed me the folder, I had what I could only say was a vision.
The secretary morphed into Dellia only this time she had red eyes and long white-blond hair that waved in the breezeless air like tentacles. She looked me in the eye and told me: “I’ve come for you at last sweetheart. I’ve been so lonely since you abandoned me back in the village.” She looked at me disapprovingly before her face softened and she smiled. “Doesn’t matter though I’m here now.”
“D-Dellia. How?” I asked in shock.
“We can’t be separated. Not even by distance. You love me remember?”
“No!!” I shouted at her.
“Uh… Mr. Obasale, is everything alright?” A voice that was definitely not Dellia’s asked me. I looked to see Mrs. Lara’s secretary staring up at me holding the folder and looking confused. “These are the files you asked for.”
“Right, right. I’m fine. Perfectly fine. Thank you very much.”
There were no more incidents that week. Not while I spoke with Tiny Tim about my plans to ask Ameh out again, not when I asked Ameh out over drinks after work, not when she turned me down or when I found out she was from Esa (a distant village that my village has had a generational feud with for… well, generations).
No, all was perfectly normal the entire week up to the day of the meeting. The meeting was going well all things considered, the clients seemed interested and my presentation was a hit – I made it, so no surprise there – and then it happened.
I saw her again. In the chair opposite mine. I would have assumed I was seeing things had Ameh not screamed “Who are you and what are you doing here, you witch?” She put her hand over her mouth as if she’d misspoken, but that was all the confirmation I needed.
I leapt at Dellia like a wild animal and attempted to choke her to death.
“Die, witch. Die and leave me alone.” I screamed at her as I squeezed with all the force I could muster. Suddenly something heavy smacked into the side of my head and I fell to the floor.
Getting up, I saw the lead representative of the client gasping for air as his colleagues attended to him. Ameh was standing in a corner looking terrified and Mrs. Lara had a keyboard raised over her head ready to swing in my direction. I could see security already on their way. I had no idea what was going on.
At the end of the day, Ameh and I both lost our jobs and Mrs. Lara promised us we’d never work in advertisement or brand management anywhere in Nigeria ever again. She said she’d let us off easy because my mental illness made her “feel sorry” for me.
Ameh was devastated. She completely refused to speak to me and left the office in tears. I felt terrible. I knew how much she loved her job. I decided to put an end to my problems once and for all. I needed to reach Dellia somehow and set her straight.
I picked up my phone to call someone and ask for her number but wouldn’t you know it? Her number was already in my phone. In fact, it was top of my ‘recent contacts’ list even though I’d never called her before. Definite withcraft but whatever it was, I was done with it.
I called her and told her as much. She didn’t protest, didn’t even sound worried. Her only reply was “When I’m home, we’ll talk more about this okay? Why don’t you rest a bit while you wait for me?” before she hung up.
“Wait, what? Dellia, when you get home where?” I asked in confusion.
“Our house, of course. Or don’t you know where you are?” She giggled like I’d just cracked a joke.
I had no idea what she was talking about and I didn’t want to find out. I tried calling back but the line didn’t go through. I sat up on the bed while wondering what to do. All of a sudden, I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around to see Dellia on the bed behind me.
I should have been freaked out and screamed or run away, but I just leaned into her as she kissed me and straddled my legs. She kissed me again and again, more passionately than before as she guided me inside her and her body undulated on top of mine.
I couldn’t think straight, I was lost in her and in the moment. I kissed her neck, then the well of her collarbone, before my lips shifted to the swell of her breasts and I sucked on her nipples as I got closer and closer to climax. The only sounds I could hear were her moans and the rhythm of our bodies colliding.
Just as I was about to finish, I heard her shriek above me and her body began to convulse. The sound of her climax drew mine out of me. I grunted out my release and collapsed back into the bed panting.
She looked down at me smiling, I smiled back. I was still riding the high of my orgasm. She lay hear head on my shoulder and stroked my chest. “It’s done now.” She said.
“What is?” I asked, unsure what she meant.
“The bond between us.” She said with a satisfied smile. “We are one now, you and I. You are mine like I am yours.” With that, she placed another kiss on my lips and I jolted awake. I was alone in my bed.
“Oh, it was just a dream. I must have fallen asleep.” I said rubbing my eyes. I felt a slimy wetness in my pants. I’d had a wet dream. Stories about spirit wives and spirit husbands came to mind immediately. I would have dismissed that as stupid superstition some months before, but now those thoughts had me scared out of my skin.
I didn’t know what to do, but I knew one thing for sure; I wasn’t staying in that house by myself and I definitely couldn’t allow myself to fall asleep again. No way.
I picked the nearest place that popped into my head: Tiny Tim’s house. I rang the doorbell and waited for Tim to answer the door while looking round to make sure Dellia wasn’t hiding behind a tree somewhere.
As soon as he opened the door, I burst into the house without even giving him time to ask what I was doing there. As soon as I was inside, he of course asked what I was doing in his house without warning.
“Yeah, sorry about just barging in without even calling first. It’s just…” I thought about telling him the truth, but he’d only think I was crazy or worse, he’d actually believe me. Either way, he’d want me out of his house as soon as I started talking. So instead…
“… I’m just devastated by everything y’know? I lost my job and not only that, I’m pretty sure I’ll never get to work in Lagos ever again. I think I might be in the middle of an emotional breakdown. I just need to be with a friend this evening. Awake, definitely awake.” I was aware I sounded weird stressing the awake part, but it was very important.
“Honestly Duke, I would love to help you out. Hang out and everything, but my wife just got back from a long journey and we’d like to spend some time alone together. I’m sure you understand.”
I didn’t know what to say, I hadn’t even imagined that Tiny Tim had a wife. After all, we called him that because he had a childish demeanor to him and seemed to suddenly become handicapped whenever women were around. Honestly, I didn’t believe him.
“Timothy, I really need help okay? It’s not because any emotional breakdown or whatever.” I decided to tell him the truth - the whole unabridged version. He didn’t even seem to fully process my story, just gave me the same reply as before. I wasn’t going to let him push me out there with…whatever Dellia was especially not after it had gotten dark.
“Tim, stop with these lies about your wife. Which wife? You can’t even talk to a girl and you’re trying to tell me that you were actually able to propose to someone? Let’s be serious now, come on.” I said the last line with a laugh, imagining Tiny Tim trying to propose to some mystery lady.
My smile faded when I heard a woman’s voice from within the house. “Hon, I’m out of the shower and ready for you. Hold on, is there someone else with you?”
“Just a friend from work. Don’t worry though, he’s about leaving.”
My jaw dropped open and didn’t close until I was standing outside Timothy’s door. I got into my car and drove off with the windows up. I wasn’t sure where I was going to go but I’d drive round the entirety of Lagos forever if I had to.
“Where are we going babe?”
“I don’t know Dellia, I’m just trying to get away from… from you.” I quickly turned to the back seat but was greeted by an empty car.
“Listen, I’m tired so let’s just go back home alright?” I realized I could see her in the rearview. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you! What do you want with me!?” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
“Nothing really, I just want you to love me. That’s all.” I felt her hand rubbing my chest even though I couldn’t see it. “Won’t you love me? Please?” I remembered what she’d told me the night we first met.
“You need me to say it seven times right?” I didn’t care anymore, I needed to get rid of her. “I love you, I love you, I lo…”
“Stop, stop, stop!!” She screamed at me in an otherworldly voice that chilled my bones and nearly stopped my heart. “You can’t claim to love me when you’re scared. There are certain emotions love can’t mix with. Fear is one of them. You have to try your hardest to mean it when you say I love you.”
“I can’t Dellia, I don’t love you. I’m sorry.” I said, hoping she’d accept that and leave me alone at last.
“No. You can and you will.” She screamed at me again in the voice. Letting my fear take over my body, I stopped the car suddenly and bolted into the nearest public compound I could find.
Turned out to be a hotel. I found two guards sitting in chairs outside. I walked up to them. I offered them both #20,000 for every hour they stayed awake with me and kept any mirrors away from me. Those were the two ways I had seen her manifest.
I called Driver up to ask where he was and if he could come meet up with me. He said he was in Lagos on business and he could come meet me immediately. I don’t know why I thought to call him before anyone else. I waited for him for a few hours before a car that looked like his pulled into the parking lot.
Out of the car however, stepped Dellia not driver. She walked towards me seductively. I tried to run but the guards I was sitting with held me down so I was unable to move. She moved closer and closer and then… The guards shook me awake.
Apparently, I had fallen asleep and the guards couldn’t wake me up until Driver came along. We went in his car and he drove me round Lagos. I wracked my brain for the next step to take. That was when I remembered: Ameh saw her back at the meeting, maybe she could help me out. Or at least, I’d have a comrade in my perils or whatever.
I got to her house just as her roommate was leaving. I met her sniffing into tissues wrapped in a blanket and looking all-round defeated. I tried explaining my situation to her and asking her what she saw or thinks she saw at the office. She didn’t even seem receptive to my story.
She did say she was glad to know it was my spiritual problem and not hers.
As we were talking, something cut through her doors and Dellia burst through. I hid myself behind a chair in the dining. Ameh rather than hiding, actually went to face Dellia and promptly got thrown into a corner.
Scared, I stood and held my hands up in surrender as she walked menacingly towards me with her hair waving even though there was no wind. Unexpectedly, she smashed into a wall and then smashed into it again repeatedly. Dumbfounded, I turned to see Ameh with her hands stretched towards the helpless Dellia. Her eyes glowed blue and her nails had grown longer than I thought possible.
Dellia was able to throw herself off the wall and at Ameh starting a fight that had it been under other circumstances, I would have found entertaining. Under the present circumstances however, my first instinct was to run. Still, against my better judgement, I stepped in to break up the fight.
Big mistake that, I got a slash across the chest for my peacemaking ways. It sent me into the opposite wall and hurt like hell. The girls ceased their fighting immediately and rushed to my side.
“Duke! Are you alright?” Dellia asked.
“Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just a bruise.” I replied, wincing at the pain.
“It can’t be a bruise.” Dellia said, sounding worried. I got up and showed them my chest where my shirt was sliced through. A few welts had already formed, but nothing more.
“How? It can’t be. She used those nails to slice through my door. That’s a bulletproof door. You can’t just be bruised.” Ameh sounded very perplexed.
“I dunno, I’ve never gotten hurt beyond bruising in my life. Just seems normal” it had never occurred to me how weird that was till that moment.
“It’s true then.” Ameh spoke with an almost religious tone in her voice. “I knew it was true.”
“That’s why Bámí and the rest of the coven wanted me to get him in so badly.” Dellia mused.
“What?” I asked, holding my chest and having absolutely no idea what was going on.
“You, Duke Obaìsàlè are one of the chosen, the co-heir to the thrones of witches and the marine realm.” Ameh said, looking at me like she’d just seen a million dollars.
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2024.06.02 19:01 IntelligentAd5000 Sleep Deprivation is causing me to do something extremely odd
Hello, I can't sleep and Im getting pills for it. I have been awake for 48 hours now. And things are a bit of blur. But I have realised that I have picked up and extreme urge to write. I dont know how or why, but I crank out amazing short horror stories in 20minutes, and cant remember why. i realise that there are symptoms regarding sleep deprevation but whats happening doesnt match anything I've seeh. So yea the compulsion to write is weird and I have developed an obession of posting them to reddit (this I swear is not one), lying and not knowing why to commenters. I had posted a list about of game I like but not that much, the list was a thousand words, and I spent an hour of time doing nothing else making this list, all of knowledge I'd forgotten about. You can find the rest of the messy mesy story, and I lied and said I was high in one post, and took down countless others. I dont even use reddit that much, always that it was a bit weird, and though. I was mostly wrong, I thought I would come here. I have ADHD and focusing is hard for me, and i have never been so hyperifxated on something like that in my life. And then i started a little log to see where im at during my sleepless night. Each hour. I logged. And Logged And logged. I didnt realise how much i was hallicinating, but I think I was in REM sleep and I somehow retained perfect ability to type on keyboard without seeing and look. I thought that everything I was typing made sense, but after kinda snapping out of it, I realised in horror kind of. So i took my photo booth opened, it and ran a video of me. I was in REM sleep for sure, and i was typing unbelievbly fast. I remember everything, I could think and then my hands would type it. I know it sounds weird, but like my imagination, my subconscious thoughts were being projected somehow. Heres all 3000 words and counting of it. the last couple where I do the test make it unclear, but unless someone actually replies to this, I will save images and photos for later. I am currently still hallucinating but not as badly so pardon my misspellings.
Now I Swear on My Life this is real, none of my friends believe me, my sister does though. please help me
Here it is
-1am feeling tired didn’t get to sleep until three last night, so this sucks
-3am haven’t done any work went don’t disturbing internet mystery rabbit hole. Also what will my screen time look like? Not good.
-5am- That’s when it hits you, the birds and the light, worst feeling ever. Microsleep hit, and I hallucinate myself watching a video. WTF.
-8am-I have been writing a short story for the past 3 hours, wtf is wrong with me. I get out of my room at 8:30, and something shocking, happened, I looked in the mirror and I have a six pack? At first I thought hallucination and dismissed it, went and had nothing for breakfast apart from some ice cream. I am scared.
-9am-taken medication feel fine. I have not eaten much and I am aware it is taking a toll on my weight. I have six pack and look shredded. This is not a good thing.
-10am- all my 2500 word essay got deleted. I notice sleep deprivation and medication, has a weird affect. It masks the affects of sleepiness. I feel fine, no fatigue, could work for ever. I have a 1 hour tutor session, let’s see how that goes.
12pm- Finished tutoring session - felt easy speedy and fine. Am heavily addicted to reddit. I feel like the dexiamphetamine is having an affect on my body which makes me entrenctched into whatever I am doing.
2pm- Got to get ready for kickboxing class junior leadership thing. My face is riddled with pimples. This is caused by a lack of sleep and water and proper nutrients.
5pm- I got home, feel fine, it was really cold though. No signs of cognitive decline like I usually show. Actually I take that back, things have become to become distorted, my eyes are messing with me as a result of the micro-hallucinations I am experiencing. I took 2 more dexiamphetamines, probably a bad idea.
8pm-I feel amazing, but at the same time little work as been done on rave. I am completely and utterly obsessed with writing stories, I spent and hour and a half texting my adventure to London, and I begun to get really descriptive. I am not in a good mental state(Not as in depressed, as in I can’t judge if what im doing is weird, it has to be right?).
9pm- Symptoms are really starting to show now. I have been listening to sad songs whilst I write my English, it is a story so it’s going well.
9:30pm- I have spent too long over many hours compiling a list of things I’d like to see in fallout 5. What the fuck, I am at the point in which I can’t take a step back. Computer screen distorted at time. When I am typing, I keep thinking about how to do the hashing technique using curved lines with a ball point pen. I have wrote probably over 800 words disputing claims about my fallout 5 post.
10pm- I have possibly written an amazing English assignment. My dread in which consumes me, about this assignment is keeping me motivated whilst I listen to music(mainly sad music.) I love the start of the song violent crimes by Kanye west, I had that on repeat for a while until I moved onto other sad songs, because I didn’t want it to burn out (its a great song)
10:30 in bed now feeling weird. I was wondering around and yep im hallucinating, and it sucks ass. Minor ones at the moment, which are good, but it’s more like my mind will think something is there that is not. Does that make sense? But then in the hall way, it was dark and as I turned on the light I saw some fucked up face. Alright now im scaring myself jeez.
10:50 So right now typing this the visual hallucinations have definitly set in, it’s weird that I am conscious enough to witness it happen in real time. This doesn’t feel real. How to describe what I’m seeing, like waves silk-like distortions of everything. Right now I look up and I see like silky distortions of the corner of the roof distort and move. It is significantly worse in the dark, as brain has to make up for a lack of what is there. I turned the light on and yes it is better. They are still there but are minor and less apparent. Legitimately everything scares me, my body is jumping, I guess as my brain is focusing as much maybe, and then when I do hear something out of the ordinary it spooks me. I don’t know why but I feel like all of sudden im just gonna go crazy and it’s like a race against time, but it will be slow and I will see how long I can last. Typing has become significantly harder as I loose control of my motor skill which has happened in a short time of 30 minutes. Wow creepy peripherals make up visuals, idk why that is
-11:20- Taken videos as updates. I feel like this is the quiet before the storm. My brain is making things up and it’s pissing me off. It has revoked my right to type, and everything that is not in my direct peripheral now is some sort of the thing. Like bro every key I type my fucking brain slows down, it’s taken me song long to write this one thing. I can’t think of what I want to say to next, that’s a big one. The changes come on so rapidly and everchanging
-11:40-Brain is sending in backups. My typing speed has increased but my ability to spell words correctly is failing. Right now it’s just not fun. No major hallucinations, just a feeling of dread mixed with a nice side of a painful ass headache and a need to go to the toilet. I find it weird however that when writing, usually a mundane task, my brain kind of goes on autopilot, and I have some sort of visual hallunciaiont, this is weird for the reasons stated, and that my hands seem to be moving themselves, and I am watching them, similar to that somen in black mirror, with the museum. BTW black mirror is NOT something you would want to watch like this. I had dream about white Christmas once, and I felt like I was stuck in there for a million years. #existential crisis right. Ok weird, so it seems like when I disassociate my brain keeps typing, I am having a bit of neural input it seems, but my brain fog which was so present all but 2 minutes ago gone. Ok yea noises are starting to appear a bit. Butt cheeks were clenched. I feel like a lifeless dummy rn. Waiting for next phase. (Prayer emoticon). Also why does my fingers just magically know where all the buttons
12am- And the clock hits twelve. Half way there. At the end of this I will have successfully completed 42 hours. Its not a flex or anything I am aware, its just what choice do I have, try and sleep and be constantly reminded of the overbearing weight of the assignments all due this week?? I don’t want to think about that, no-one does. My fucking bad I managed my time wrong im a fucking kid after all. I am going Canberra college next year and this week has been a step in the wrong direction for me. After mum left everything went to shit. I cannot control myself, I am addicted to gadgets. I need to watch my computer to go to sleep or the google home. I have a compulsion to reddit, and I eat like shit. Chicken in some sort, lie about having vegetables. If I even tried to make a food diary of some sort for these last few days, I would be put on fucking trial for the murder of any chance of bitches. I treated my body like shit. The best word I can describe this week in is - Grunge. Like fucking living in your own shit. That’s how I feel. Everyrnight same routine, go on computer, watch videos until 12, watch google home go to bed. But not really.. Instead I would appear to stay up to 2am or 3am and go to bed, eat some food or something I don’t fucking know. I know I am sleep deprived. It is showing in my works. Weird addiction to writing, my adhd hyperfocuses on something. Drawing and Writing. As I write this my brain tries to seduce me into its gaze. The room or just the essence of living is moving, right to left, like im in a slide, and then left to right, and then so on and so forth. I am afraid this is what happens when you eat nothing but sugar and sugar and sugar, don’t sleep and drug your self on drugs. Skin is just a warning, my body brain will be infected I need to stop. I cannot live unregulated.
12:13am- My eyes heart, everything’s shadow is big and I don’t know how much more of this I can take. It is hell, and Im not even at the micro sleeps. They sound low-key cool. I am waiting to go out, make myself a wrap with butter, and get around the computer as I mindlessly do nothing. I don’t watch YouTube want, other way round, and thoughts of my intentional original purpose, to do work for school, left the window a long time ago. I close my eyes for a split second and I ee a teddy bear. They keep appearing, things are melting, this is it baby, as Jeff Kinney would say, we in for the long haul. I want to keep typing and I don’t know why, partly because it is cool that I have kept typing this long, and partly because what else do I do. Wait for it to consume me. If I had a pen and paper, I could have drawn the images I see on my computer screen, vague but the all have cross hatchings, a term I am learning. And what happen to monkey type, I swear I searched it. Is it the micro sleep? Is it coming. Yea. Maybe not.
12:30am- Writing these becomes a scapegoat for my mind to kinda control me and I don’t like it, so Im going to keep it short. No differences, Battery low I will have to brave it out of room soon. Hallucinations minimal, and chicken in peripheral which is toy and bedsheet, but I can’t see it as anything else. Cute little reference my brains making, but I have two finder files, and my brain this its two cookie monsters lol. Also eyes are still heavy. I have gained complete and even I would go as far to say enhanced motor control, I feel like I can type fast, and I hear every single click on the key and It freaks me out. I intentionally leave errors in here, not many but some, and my stupid ass thinks im going to read this and think it’s all mysterious. Upon further reflection, I may have been having depth perception hallucinations. What is weird is no vivid hallucinations but everything is something if that makes an inkling of sense. Im not really all there any more. Weird how that works. Time perception is completely altered and distorted. I could have sworn twelve o’clock was ten seconds or 1 hour ago. I cannot swear on either, but ten seconds ago? I could have sworn on one, I cannot remember which one anymore. Speaking my thoughts does not make cohesive notes on my problem and predicament, I should refrain, but sometimes my brain naturally does this. Yea saw souls of the damned again when I blinked, weird, and now liminal shit im seeing, because my brain is like ooh scary I should scream now, and then it pumps out all this shit. It has been 6 minutes since I started writing, that sounds about right, but at the same times that was long, very long, marcy long. (Kill her long). I chicken which is a building waves a hammer at my building. It is the side bar on the right side of my MacBook.
12:37: wanted to wait until 12:40 but time sucks ass and is an illusion. You many know by now that my posts have ramblings of random topic and will veer off. This was not my intention, if I write for longer than a minute I loose my grip on my brain, it starts writing what It pleases. I have to think really hard about what I want to write, even then it just autofilled it. Lucky it’s right. Computer percentage critically low. 9%, yet I am filled with joy and dread right now. I think this could be caused by the effect of my dexi’s that I took, like a long term effect, or rather just the lack of sleep. I am deeply disturebed but interested by myself. I now have real hallucinations now. Files are quickly changed to name. And a beigeish green blood phases through my door fast. If I look at my hands wrong they look like they are encrusted in dry blood. I had to think if blood was the gang or Blud was the gang, that is how you know sjits gone down the drain.
1:00: It is officially one-ocklock and I let my brain take the rails once again(don’t let me down). So right now Im feeling fine, but sometimes I will have clear clarity and feel fine, no hallucinations, no nothing, and this will be followed by an intense one that will not be scary just like kind of convincing. One instance I don’t want to forget is me looking through my old video from a couple hours ago. One of them my arms look weird and photoshopped linked down bellow, and I have like a led type trip. I think it could be inspired by those weird ass instagram reels I watch, but Idk, It was me and that pose, changing shape a bit and material. I was real glossy and like twisted and moulded and back to normal it was weird. I couldn’t see my arms, especially my forearms the same after that. One phenomena which is uniquely odd is the compulsion to write here. I can understand a lack of time knowledge and perception, as it is natural of one when under these conditions, but have loose your sanity to a point where you are able to mindlessly drone on about things happening to you, is weird, weird. It initially started off as an idea, one sentence or maximum short paragraph talking about each hour and how the where different to the next. Also just got jumped scared by the image thanks bitch. Whilst righting this I am aware I made a mistake (writing), I feel like I have some consciousness left, but if I don’t blink it really hit me. So I keep blinking to report back to base. Yea the head is tilting sideways turned into like a fucking dragon praying mantis thing for a sec. Right now I feel alright, the dream is supposed to get to me but it is hard for it to pass, I know that I am supposed to feel creeped out but I don’t, I like it when for a second my brain will just think of something and loose it. One truly weird thing is me being able to hallucinate pictures through the writing. Always cartoons, depicted silly and offbeat. I don’t know why though. Yea Ididnt wright that by the way what the hell. The good ole noggin did. My head stopped hurting, and my neck has softened the blow a bit, and takes a bit of pain not much, and the my neck is also is cricitacl condition, after seeing Moby at the fucking side bar again. This time it wasn’t a chicken this was Moby from fucking Moby and ted. Ok now its ahicken peeking its head out back to straight what the fuck am id doing llama fr fr fr
1:13-computer is low, very low, at 4%. I am back by the way, I got sucked in again but got out and read it really quickly. The fr frfr is from the Tyler the creator song fr fr fr this time. Ya know. Ok so not this time but next time iwirite a paragraph or a time, I am going to record myself, and then when I regain my sanity, I will watch the video to see what I look like, when I am truly not with it. I don’t know if the same thing will happen with this paragraph but I hope not. This notice was just a short one but stay safe. One last thing that is not helping me, I am now scared again, I heard stomping in the kitchen , and I know it could be fake but everything there is stomping in the kitchen I am able to know because if there is at this Time of night I feel my heart drop, and I did which helps add to the case. I don’t eellike investigating but igueess if that is my best option then I will but now is not really there right time. When is ithe right time officers saying gtyring to gain media attention from the main. Never get the fuckout of my house.
1-18am(the test?) So this is the test but I obviously need something to talk about and I have a topic. So basically I think I have cracked the case to the nonsense rambling in which I don’t understand myself. It is a literal projection of what is going on inside my mind. You know how sometimes people will take things literally and then you’re like no I didn’t mean it like that, well it’s kinda the same thing. I say something insidede my head but it comes out through my fingers. And it’s odd because it come with such swiftness and such durability. Right now I a doing it it yes made a spelling mistake whilst looking at my green gamer screen. I don’t know how or why this done. I am back to realign. And yea this is odd, not quite the feeling that I get when I completely disassociate. I am starting to think that maybe I am begging to miceslepe these series of events and include e the within the paragraph, it happen a little bit there, and unlike try to be the bait for other final charges, this on has no backing against it. There it is again, little less than the first time, but my mind wonders and my hand followed. What if I thought some truly despicable stuff, something that would surely get me banned from ever participating in it agin. Now no I have to read this later I don’t really want to hut then again, i if it fits thehe description then we have t o. Brain disrupted my train of thought, I think I had important breakthrough, Never imind I id, the breakthrough was that when I am looking or blurring my eyes, the top of my head the curtain and y alien arms along with the righting combnined to create some sort of card with a circle in the middle in which I can only presume is a play ng car. I am currently doing right now let’s describe. So I hastily have the some sort go grounding I am loosening it,. It is a hashing draw g clear as dal, with I big leak on the right side and spills over, probably
1.28am- the big move. Just kidding I just have to get out of bed. Let’s see who wins me our bed.GUESS FUCKING WHAT BABY I WON. So I should probably start with the obvious what the fuck Is actually happening. Yea will I thought I was fully conscious, dogs barking keeping me in there. So my subconscious is a weird weird weird thing. Yea fuck it’s happening again, I didn’t mean to type that. Ok so talk about more later, but if I can spit it out in time, I enter a state of REM sleep when I start typing, and my brain doesn’t understand what is imaginary and what’s not so it fills in gaps, and whilst doing this, inadvertentltly transposes your visual in real life, and your imagination, until it creates a weird state in which nothing is quite real and nothing is fake. God that sounds so pretentiously ominous. In the video my eyelids flicker, which is why this is my main theory, but what amazes me, is 2 distinct things. The first is my ability to type whilst looking away from my computer or with my eyes closed. I don’t misspell words, which is confusing as when testing this to the best of my ability whilst in this state, I don’t get very good results at all. The second is the fact that I am fully aware of what is happening. I am able to translate what is happening in my mind to the document, with a little bit of brain fog mixed in, which is obvoiusly going to happen in things like this.
submitted by IntelligentAd5000 to AskDocs [link] [comments]
Now I Swear on My Life this is real, none of my friends believe me, my sister does though. please help me
Here it is
-1am feeling tired didn’t get to sleep until three last night, so this sucks
-3am haven’t done any work went don’t disturbing internet mystery rabbit hole. Also what will my screen time look like? Not good.
-5am- That’s when it hits you, the birds and the light, worst feeling ever. Microsleep hit, and I hallucinate myself watching a video. WTF.
-8am-I have been writing a short story for the past 3 hours, wtf is wrong with me. I get out of my room at 8:30, and something shocking, happened, I looked in the mirror and I have a six pack? At first I thought hallucination and dismissed it, went and had nothing for breakfast apart from some ice cream. I am scared.
-9am-taken medication feel fine. I have not eaten much and I am aware it is taking a toll on my weight. I have six pack and look shredded. This is not a good thing.
-10am- all my 2500 word essay got deleted. I notice sleep deprivation and medication, has a weird affect. It masks the affects of sleepiness. I feel fine, no fatigue, could work for ever. I have a 1 hour tutor session, let’s see how that goes.
12pm- Finished tutoring session - felt easy speedy and fine. Am heavily addicted to reddit. I feel like the dexiamphetamine is having an affect on my body which makes me entrenctched into whatever I am doing.
2pm- Got to get ready for kickboxing class junior leadership thing. My face is riddled with pimples. This is caused by a lack of sleep and water and proper nutrients.
5pm- I got home, feel fine, it was really cold though. No signs of cognitive decline like I usually show. Actually I take that back, things have become to become distorted, my eyes are messing with me as a result of the micro-hallucinations I am experiencing. I took 2 more dexiamphetamines, probably a bad idea.
8pm-I feel amazing, but at the same time little work as been done on rave. I am completely and utterly obsessed with writing stories, I spent and hour and a half texting my adventure to London, and I begun to get really descriptive. I am not in a good mental state(Not as in depressed, as in I can’t judge if what im doing is weird, it has to be right?).
9pm- Symptoms are really starting to show now. I have been listening to sad songs whilst I write my English, it is a story so it’s going well.
9:30pm- I have spent too long over many hours compiling a list of things I’d like to see in fallout 5. What the fuck, I am at the point in which I can’t take a step back. Computer screen distorted at time. When I am typing, I keep thinking about how to do the hashing technique using curved lines with a ball point pen. I have wrote probably over 800 words disputing claims about my fallout 5 post.
10pm- I have possibly written an amazing English assignment. My dread in which consumes me, about this assignment is keeping me motivated whilst I listen to music(mainly sad music.) I love the start of the song violent crimes by Kanye west, I had that on repeat for a while until I moved onto other sad songs, because I didn’t want it to burn out (its a great song)
10:30 in bed now feeling weird. I was wondering around and yep im hallucinating, and it sucks ass. Minor ones at the moment, which are good, but it’s more like my mind will think something is there that is not. Does that make sense? But then in the hall way, it was dark and as I turned on the light I saw some fucked up face. Alright now im scaring myself jeez.
10:50 So right now typing this the visual hallucinations have definitly set in, it’s weird that I am conscious enough to witness it happen in real time. This doesn’t feel real. How to describe what I’m seeing, like waves silk-like distortions of everything. Right now I look up and I see like silky distortions of the corner of the roof distort and move. It is significantly worse in the dark, as brain has to make up for a lack of what is there. I turned the light on and yes it is better. They are still there but are minor and less apparent. Legitimately everything scares me, my body is jumping, I guess as my brain is focusing as much maybe, and then when I do hear something out of the ordinary it spooks me. I don’t know why but I feel like all of sudden im just gonna go crazy and it’s like a race against time, but it will be slow and I will see how long I can last. Typing has become significantly harder as I loose control of my motor skill which has happened in a short time of 30 minutes. Wow creepy peripherals make up visuals, idk why that is
-11:20- Taken videos as updates. I feel like this is the quiet before the storm. My brain is making things up and it’s pissing me off. It has revoked my right to type, and everything that is not in my direct peripheral now is some sort of the thing. Like bro every key I type my fucking brain slows down, it’s taken me song long to write this one thing. I can’t think of what I want to say to next, that’s a big one. The changes come on so rapidly and everchanging
-11:40-Brain is sending in backups. My typing speed has increased but my ability to spell words correctly is failing. Right now it’s just not fun. No major hallucinations, just a feeling of dread mixed with a nice side of a painful ass headache and a need to go to the toilet. I find it weird however that when writing, usually a mundane task, my brain kind of goes on autopilot, and I have some sort of visual hallunciaiont, this is weird for the reasons stated, and that my hands seem to be moving themselves, and I am watching them, similar to that somen in black mirror, with the museum. BTW black mirror is NOT something you would want to watch like this. I had dream about white Christmas once, and I felt like I was stuck in there for a million years. #existential crisis right. Ok weird, so it seems like when I disassociate my brain keeps typing, I am having a bit of neural input it seems, but my brain fog which was so present all but 2 minutes ago gone. Ok yea noises are starting to appear a bit. Butt cheeks were clenched. I feel like a lifeless dummy rn. Waiting for next phase. (Prayer emoticon). Also why does my fingers just magically know where all the buttons
12am- And the clock hits twelve. Half way there. At the end of this I will have successfully completed 42 hours. Its not a flex or anything I am aware, its just what choice do I have, try and sleep and be constantly reminded of the overbearing weight of the assignments all due this week?? I don’t want to think about that, no-one does. My fucking bad I managed my time wrong im a fucking kid after all. I am going Canberra college next year and this week has been a step in the wrong direction for me. After mum left everything went to shit. I cannot control myself, I am addicted to gadgets. I need to watch my computer to go to sleep or the google home. I have a compulsion to reddit, and I eat like shit. Chicken in some sort, lie about having vegetables. If I even tried to make a food diary of some sort for these last few days, I would be put on fucking trial for the murder of any chance of bitches. I treated my body like shit. The best word I can describe this week in is - Grunge. Like fucking living in your own shit. That’s how I feel. Everyrnight same routine, go on computer, watch videos until 12, watch google home go to bed. But not really.. Instead I would appear to stay up to 2am or 3am and go to bed, eat some food or something I don’t fucking know. I know I am sleep deprived. It is showing in my works. Weird addiction to writing, my adhd hyperfocuses on something. Drawing and Writing. As I write this my brain tries to seduce me into its gaze. The room or just the essence of living is moving, right to left, like im in a slide, and then left to right, and then so on and so forth. I am afraid this is what happens when you eat nothing but sugar and sugar and sugar, don’t sleep and drug your self on drugs. Skin is just a warning, my body brain will be infected I need to stop. I cannot live unregulated.
12:13am- My eyes heart, everything’s shadow is big and I don’t know how much more of this I can take. It is hell, and Im not even at the micro sleeps. They sound low-key cool. I am waiting to go out, make myself a wrap with butter, and get around the computer as I mindlessly do nothing. I don’t watch YouTube want, other way round, and thoughts of my intentional original purpose, to do work for school, left the window a long time ago. I close my eyes for a split second and I ee a teddy bear. They keep appearing, things are melting, this is it baby, as Jeff Kinney would say, we in for the long haul. I want to keep typing and I don’t know why, partly because it is cool that I have kept typing this long, and partly because what else do I do. Wait for it to consume me. If I had a pen and paper, I could have drawn the images I see on my computer screen, vague but the all have cross hatchings, a term I am learning. And what happen to monkey type, I swear I searched it. Is it the micro sleep? Is it coming. Yea. Maybe not.
12:30am- Writing these becomes a scapegoat for my mind to kinda control me and I don’t like it, so Im going to keep it short. No differences, Battery low I will have to brave it out of room soon. Hallucinations minimal, and chicken in peripheral which is toy and bedsheet, but I can’t see it as anything else. Cute little reference my brains making, but I have two finder files, and my brain this its two cookie monsters lol. Also eyes are still heavy. I have gained complete and even I would go as far to say enhanced motor control, I feel like I can type fast, and I hear every single click on the key and It freaks me out. I intentionally leave errors in here, not many but some, and my stupid ass thinks im going to read this and think it’s all mysterious. Upon further reflection, I may have been having depth perception hallucinations. What is weird is no vivid hallucinations but everything is something if that makes an inkling of sense. Im not really all there any more. Weird how that works. Time perception is completely altered and distorted. I could have sworn twelve o’clock was ten seconds or 1 hour ago. I cannot swear on either, but ten seconds ago? I could have sworn on one, I cannot remember which one anymore. Speaking my thoughts does not make cohesive notes on my problem and predicament, I should refrain, but sometimes my brain naturally does this. Yea saw souls of the damned again when I blinked, weird, and now liminal shit im seeing, because my brain is like ooh scary I should scream now, and then it pumps out all this shit. It has been 6 minutes since I started writing, that sounds about right, but at the same times that was long, very long, marcy long. (Kill her long). I chicken which is a building waves a hammer at my building. It is the side bar on the right side of my MacBook.
12:37: wanted to wait until 12:40 but time sucks ass and is an illusion. You many know by now that my posts have ramblings of random topic and will veer off. This was not my intention, if I write for longer than a minute I loose my grip on my brain, it starts writing what It pleases. I have to think really hard about what I want to write, even then it just autofilled it. Lucky it’s right. Computer percentage critically low. 9%, yet I am filled with joy and dread right now. I think this could be caused by the effect of my dexi’s that I took, like a long term effect, or rather just the lack of sleep. I am deeply disturebed but interested by myself. I now have real hallucinations now. Files are quickly changed to name. And a beigeish green blood phases through my door fast. If I look at my hands wrong they look like they are encrusted in dry blood. I had to think if blood was the gang or Blud was the gang, that is how you know sjits gone down the drain.
1:00: It is officially one-ocklock and I let my brain take the rails once again(don’t let me down). So right now Im feeling fine, but sometimes I will have clear clarity and feel fine, no hallucinations, no nothing, and this will be followed by an intense one that will not be scary just like kind of convincing. One instance I don’t want to forget is me looking through my old video from a couple hours ago. One of them my arms look weird and photoshopped linked down bellow, and I have like a led type trip. I think it could be inspired by those weird ass instagram reels I watch, but Idk, It was me and that pose, changing shape a bit and material. I was real glossy and like twisted and moulded and back to normal it was weird. I couldn’t see my arms, especially my forearms the same after that. One phenomena which is uniquely odd is the compulsion to write here. I can understand a lack of time knowledge and perception, as it is natural of one when under these conditions, but have loose your sanity to a point where you are able to mindlessly drone on about things happening to you, is weird, weird. It initially started off as an idea, one sentence or maximum short paragraph talking about each hour and how the where different to the next. Also just got jumped scared by the image thanks bitch. Whilst righting this I am aware I made a mistake (writing), I feel like I have some consciousness left, but if I don’t blink it really hit me. So I keep blinking to report back to base. Yea the head is tilting sideways turned into like a fucking dragon praying mantis thing for a sec. Right now I feel alright, the dream is supposed to get to me but it is hard for it to pass, I know that I am supposed to feel creeped out but I don’t, I like it when for a second my brain will just think of something and loose it. One truly weird thing is me being able to hallucinate pictures through the writing. Always cartoons, depicted silly and offbeat. I don’t know why though. Yea Ididnt wright that by the way what the hell. The good ole noggin did. My head stopped hurting, and my neck has softened the blow a bit, and takes a bit of pain not much, and the my neck is also is cricitacl condition, after seeing Moby at the fucking side bar again. This time it wasn’t a chicken this was Moby from fucking Moby and ted. Ok now its ahicken peeking its head out back to straight what the fuck am id doing llama fr fr fr
1:13-computer is low, very low, at 4%. I am back by the way, I got sucked in again but got out and read it really quickly. The fr frfr is from the Tyler the creator song fr fr fr this time. Ya know. Ok so not this time but next time iwirite a paragraph or a time, I am going to record myself, and then when I regain my sanity, I will watch the video to see what I look like, when I am truly not with it. I don’t know if the same thing will happen with this paragraph but I hope not. This notice was just a short one but stay safe. One last thing that is not helping me, I am now scared again, I heard stomping in the kitchen , and I know it could be fake but everything there is stomping in the kitchen I am able to know because if there is at this Time of night I feel my heart drop, and I did which helps add to the case. I don’t eellike investigating but igueess if that is my best option then I will but now is not really there right time. When is ithe right time officers saying gtyring to gain media attention from the main. Never get the fuckout of my house.
1-18am(the test?) So this is the test but I obviously need something to talk about and I have a topic. So basically I think I have cracked the case to the nonsense rambling in which I don’t understand myself. It is a literal projection of what is going on inside my mind. You know how sometimes people will take things literally and then you’re like no I didn’t mean it like that, well it’s kinda the same thing. I say something insidede my head but it comes out through my fingers. And it’s odd because it come with such swiftness and such durability. Right now I a doing it it yes made a spelling mistake whilst looking at my green gamer screen. I don’t know how or why this done. I am back to realign. And yea this is odd, not quite the feeling that I get when I completely disassociate. I am starting to think that maybe I am begging to miceslepe these series of events and include e the within the paragraph, it happen a little bit there, and unlike try to be the bait for other final charges, this on has no backing against it. There it is again, little less than the first time, but my mind wonders and my hand followed. What if I thought some truly despicable stuff, something that would surely get me banned from ever participating in it agin. Now no I have to read this later I don’t really want to hut then again, i if it fits thehe description then we have t o. Brain disrupted my train of thought, I think I had important breakthrough, Never imind I id, the breakthrough was that when I am looking or blurring my eyes, the top of my head the curtain and y alien arms along with the righting combnined to create some sort of card with a circle in the middle in which I can only presume is a play ng car. I am currently doing right now let’s describe. So I hastily have the some sort go grounding I am loosening it,. It is a hashing draw g clear as dal, with I big leak on the right side and spills over, probably
1.28am- the big move. Just kidding I just have to get out of bed. Let’s see who wins me our bed.GUESS FUCKING WHAT BABY I WON. So I should probably start with the obvious what the fuck Is actually happening. Yea will I thought I was fully conscious, dogs barking keeping me in there. So my subconscious is a weird weird weird thing. Yea fuck it’s happening again, I didn’t mean to type that. Ok so talk about more later, but if I can spit it out in time, I enter a state of REM sleep when I start typing, and my brain doesn’t understand what is imaginary and what’s not so it fills in gaps, and whilst doing this, inadvertentltly transposes your visual in real life, and your imagination, until it creates a weird state in which nothing is quite real and nothing is fake. God that sounds so pretentiously ominous. In the video my eyelids flicker, which is why this is my main theory, but what amazes me, is 2 distinct things. The first is my ability to type whilst looking away from my computer or with my eyes closed. I don’t misspell words, which is confusing as when testing this to the best of my ability whilst in this state, I don’t get very good results at all. The second is the fact that I am fully aware of what is happening. I am able to translate what is happening in my mind to the document, with a little bit of brain fog mixed in, which is obvoiusly going to happen in things like this.
2024.06.02 18:59 Important-Dress7910 Scoliosis no ED
I haven't been properly diagnosed but I know I have it and I've known for the past 5-6 years. I mean if you have a physical deformity it's a bit hard to not notice lol
Having scoliosis never really bothered me, at the time I realised I was seeing a lot of creators with scoliosis making jokes about it.
I think it was an hour ago that it I really understood that I was stuck with this for the rest of my life and there was nothing I could do to get rid of it and look normal.
I used to make jokes about it since I thought it was a bit funny yknow, hahaha my spine is shaped funny. 2 years ago I stopped making as many jokes as it just got boring, and hearing another joke about my deformity just wasn't that funny anymore. Sometimes my friends would make jokes about it tho, and that was okay with me, I wasn't upset and would laugh as well.
At some point I had just comepletly forgotten about my scoliosis until my best friend, at the time, would bring it up, and that was fine it wasn't like she was saying anything mean. But this girl was a total bitch and snake and I swear she hated me our entire friendship. Tbh she's not that funny and most of her jokes came from me or our other friends. One of her "jokes" she would move to side of me where my shoulder was tilted higher and rest her elbow on it to "even it out" and yknow I thought it was pretty funny, but as I said before she's unoriginal and a fake mf. We would just be walking around and she would do it, she did it so often that I started to wonder if my scoliosis was actually a problem.(+ all the comments she would make about my appearance) I stopped laughing at some point but her dense ass kept doing it, after that when I would look in the mirror all I could look at was my torso and all its weird curves. I became more self conscious if other people could tell or they could see how I walk different, another friend who was unaware actually asked me why I walked funny so that didn't help lol
Even after we stopped being friends I was still very aware of how I looked and it would always be at the back of my head no matter what I was doing.
"Do I wear my bag in this shoulder?"
"Do I sleep on this side?"
"Does this top make it more noticeable?"
"If I sit like this will my spine get worse?"
I know I should do something to prevent it from worsening but I honestly just don't want to think about at all. I just want to ignore it and live without being worried about my spine.
Then like just an hour and a half ago it really dawned on me that I'll always have scoliosis and in that moment I just felt so ugly and gross
I could do all the stretches and exercises in the would and I would still have scoliosis. I could wear a back brace and I would still have scoliosis. I could get back surgery but then I wouldn't be able to bend over anymore, or I get the more recent one but then I may have to get surgery again if it fails.
No matter what I will always be deformed and it doesn't matter what my face looks and how fit I am my body will always be "ugly".
I'm not proofreading this lol
submitted by Important-Dress7910 to Vent [link] [comments]
Having scoliosis never really bothered me, at the time I realised I was seeing a lot of creators with scoliosis making jokes about it.
I think it was an hour ago that it I really understood that I was stuck with this for the rest of my life and there was nothing I could do to get rid of it and look normal.
I used to make jokes about it since I thought it was a bit funny yknow, hahaha my spine is shaped funny. 2 years ago I stopped making as many jokes as it just got boring, and hearing another joke about my deformity just wasn't that funny anymore. Sometimes my friends would make jokes about it tho, and that was okay with me, I wasn't upset and would laugh as well.
At some point I had just comepletly forgotten about my scoliosis until my best friend, at the time, would bring it up, and that was fine it wasn't like she was saying anything mean. But this girl was a total bitch and snake and I swear she hated me our entire friendship. Tbh she's not that funny and most of her jokes came from me or our other friends. One of her "jokes" she would move to side of me where my shoulder was tilted higher and rest her elbow on it to "even it out" and yknow I thought it was pretty funny, but as I said before she's unoriginal and a fake mf. We would just be walking around and she would do it, she did it so often that I started to wonder if my scoliosis was actually a problem.(+ all the comments she would make about my appearance) I stopped laughing at some point but her dense ass kept doing it, after that when I would look in the mirror all I could look at was my torso and all its weird curves. I became more self conscious if other people could tell or they could see how I walk different, another friend who was unaware actually asked me why I walked funny so that didn't help lol
Even after we stopped being friends I was still very aware of how I looked and it would always be at the back of my head no matter what I was doing.
"Do I wear my bag in this shoulder?"
"Do I sleep on this side?"
"Does this top make it more noticeable?"
"If I sit like this will my spine get worse?"
I know I should do something to prevent it from worsening but I honestly just don't want to think about at all. I just want to ignore it and live without being worried about my spine.
Then like just an hour and a half ago it really dawned on me that I'll always have scoliosis and in that moment I just felt so ugly and gross
I could do all the stretches and exercises in the would and I would still have scoliosis. I could wear a back brace and I would still have scoliosis. I could get back surgery but then I wouldn't be able to bend over anymore, or I get the more recent one but then I may have to get surgery again if it fails.
No matter what I will always be deformed and it doesn't matter what my face looks and how fit I am my body will always be "ugly".
I'm not proofreading this lol
2024.06.02 18:54 hipnozzza Advantage 360 feeling clumsy: What mods do you have?
I recently bought a Kinesis keyboard and love how it complements my workflow. However, I'm missing keystrokes because I'm used to keycaps with less travel. I have a Keychron Q1 in front of me for quickly typing out passwords, as I still make errors with the Kinesis. The Kinesis keycaps feel plasticky compared to the Keychron's, making typing on the Kinesis feel sluggish and cheap. Interestingly, both keyboards have Gateron Brown switches, though the Keychron uses Gateron Brown Pro while the Kinesis uses regular Gateron Browns. The keycaps I have on the Kinesis are the PBT Blank ones, while the other keyboard has Razer double shot PBTs.
That said, I'm kind of answering my own question, but what I really wanted to ask is: What mods have you done on your Kinesis to reduce the effort needed for a regular key press so it doesn't feel like you're straining your fingers and to reduce this cheap feeling?
submitted by hipnozzza to kinesisadvantage [link] [comments]
That said, I'm kind of answering my own question, but what I really wanted to ask is: What mods have you done on your Kinesis to reduce the effort needed for a regular key press so it doesn't feel like you're straining your fingers and to reduce this cheap feeling?
2024.06.02 18:31 1105816 Hashira Headcanons (Manga spoilers)
These are some headcanons I have about the Hashira. spoilers for manga through the end, character death, and canon marriages. Things in square brackets are stuff I read elsewhere and is canon IIRC, but everything else is just headcanon
Sanemi
Tanjiro
submitted by 1105816 to KimetsuNoYaiba [link] [comments]
Sanemi
- very good at telling hours left until sunrise from the moon and stars. It was essential knowledge during his days as a rogue demon slayer
- His trainers frequently scolded him for going ‘marechi mode’ while fighting and tried to get him to rely on his blood less
- [The breathing forms were preserved as dances] Was onboard with the plan to pass on breathing forms as dances, but still bristled when people described what he did as dancing
- Proficient at unarmed fighting when his opponents are human
- Did a lot of traveling with the remainder of his life, to actually spend time enjoying all the places he had gone for work
- asked Kiriya to arrange a marriage for him after the final battle. Kiriya is the closest thing he has to a head of family and Giyuu is too awkward to do it himself. Kanata and Kuina were taken by the idea and offered Kiriya lot of dubiously helpful input
- Has the other two halves of his haori stitched together and stashed somewhere but doesn’t know what to do with it
- Moved into a smaller house after the final battle, but actually made this one into a home
- Kanzaburou died in his arms shortly after the final battle. Giyuu wasn’t too sad, he thanked his crow for seeing things through to the end and promised he would be ok from now on
- Has old man hobbies like bonsai and rock gardening
- Kept a Nichirin sword in serviceable condition for the rest of his life- just in case
- He and his wives experimented with making semi functional hand prosthetics for him. They offered to bring Giyuu into the project but he declined on account of having much less arm left than Tengen
- Laid down a hard boundary early on that his wives had to settle their own disputes among themselves because of Suma and Makio’s bickering. The two of them worked things out and now most of their arguments are play fighting
- Of all his wives, worries about Hinatsuru the most because she’s very dutiful and will shoulder too many burdens without saying a thing
- His understanding of music and musical theory is intuitive. He felt his way through learning music and doesn’t have the words to describe how he understands it
- Never told his descendants that they came from a shinobi clan. His grandchildren loved to make up wild stories about how he and his wives got all their seemingly random (read: shinobi) skills
- offered useful advice for Kagaya to adapt as he lost his vision. Helped Kagaya and his family figure out what he would, and equally important, wouldn’t need help with as a blind person
- [Gyomei went blind as a child due to illness] Sometimes compares notes with Kagaya on their experiences with going blind
- Has never adopted a cat, but many cats have adopted him
- Sometimes while he’s meditating, he’s still for so long wild animals become used to his presence and will come close enough to touch. Gyomei never does touch, but he is aware of their presence
- Genya asked him not to meddle, but Gyomei did try one time to ask Sanemi about their relationship. He didn’t make any suggestions or pass judgement, just asked questions that would make Sanemi think
- keeps an herb garden for her pharmacology practice but isn’t much of a gardener. Aoi takes care of it when she’s away
- She made a unique butterfly hairpin for each of her tsuguko and butterfly girls
- [Mitsuri keeps bees] adores fat fuzzy bumblebees and will sometimes pet the ones in her garden
- The plants in her garden were mostly curated with the bees in mind
- Dabbles in handicrafts and likes making little outfits and toys for her cats
- Indiscriminate in fawning over cute animals, including reptiles, amphibians, and fish. Even fawns over Kaburamaru sometimes. It’s yet another reason Obanai likes her
- Inadvertently ended up playing matchmaker to various people she met during her time in the corps, including fellow slayers and civilians she helped
- A known fan of sweets. Her friends and family frequently gift her any unusual or foreign treats they come across
- Kyoujurou is the only Hashira who knows what’s under his bandages, because they were introduced shortly after Shinjuro saved him.
- Has experimented with making smoothies so he can drink his meals through a straw without taking his bandages off. Gave up because it was more trouble than it was worth
- Kaburamaru’s behavior has a few tells to his emotions. Sanemi and Mitsuri are the only ones who can read it to any degree, and Mitsuri has a few misconceptions because she doesn’t realize Obanai is in love with her.
- Kaburamaru hides in his haori sleeves while molting, and Obanai constantly has bits of molted snake skin in his clothes like other people have lint
- Instead of petting Kaburamaru, he’s soothed by the feeling of the snake slithering across his body
- had a few private identity crises over being a copy and paste Rengoku flame Hashira. Considered developing his own derivative breathing style and look, hoping that might earn his fathers respect
- Wanted to move Senjuro out of the family home, but thought his father wouldn’t put up with it. Never had romantic feelings for Mitsuri but sometimes dreamed of the three of them living together and her as his platonic partner in taking care of Senjuro
- Tried to befriend Obanai once they became Hashira, never realized that Obanai saw him as a romantic rival
- feels more affection and loyalty for Amane specifically, compared to the other Hashira
- He’s still not clear how many children Kagaya and Amane have. Thought it was only two until he saw three in the same place at the same time. If one were to ask, he’d guess anywhere from four to eight.
- Unaware of Inosuke’s tendency to mangle people’s names. His attempts are close enough that Muichiro clocks them as the correct name
- Unless someone reminds him, will forget to eat until he’s ravenous
Tanjiro
- in his later teens, began to live his life under the assumption he would die by 25
- Kept up the new years Hinokami Kagura for the rest of his life. Nezuko took over after he died, until his children were old enough to do it
- He and Nezuko were familiar with many of their mothers recipes, but there were a couple they never felt like they could replicate accurately
- Tanjiro’s crow became a pet and household nuisance (affectionate) post-canon. He loved gathering and sharing gossip, and is credited as the main reason there were no secrets in their home, for better or worse
- wore the boar head less as he got older, to prevent wear and tear. Would play with his children while wearing it, but only once they were old enough to know to be gentle with it.
- Acorns are his favorite snack on the go and he always has a few in his pockets
- Remained resistant to wearing shirts for his whole life
- His marriage proposal to Aoi included gifting her an animal pelt
- took up music after the final battle. Would sometimes practice playing with Kanata Ubuyashiki. She developed a crush on him in her teens but never told anyone.
- Proposed to Nezuko in a peach orchard where he spent a lot of time while training under Kuwajima
- Loves going to flower viewing parties. They’re his favorite type of date and he adores the sight of Nezuko against a backdrop of blooming flowers
- Tanjiro had to teach her how to voice her disagreement. They’ve never had a proper fight, only disagreements that Tanjiro had to guide them through resolving
- Has no sense of fashion or style, so indecisive about buying clothes that Tanjiro and Nezuko pick for her
- Her garden has a lot of plants that attract butterflies. Every year they get dozens of chrysalises
- All three were somewhat anxious about the possibility Muzan’s defeat hadn’t broken the family curse. They kept constant attention on their health going into their teen years, looking for any sign of illness among any of them.
- Kuina decided to never marry. After losing her parents and sisters so young, she couldn’t bear the thought of anything keeping her from her remaining siblings. She was prepared to share Kiriya’s fate if the curse wasn’t broken. She lived to a ripe old age and was a beloved Aunt to many.
- Kiriya was emotionally comfortable dressing as a girl and liked the bright colors and patterns. He ended up preferring the physical comfort of boys kimono, the relaxed fit, and the simplicity of putting it on
2024.06.02 17:59 Kuxir The Case Against Many Layers
Here are some considerations that I made when moving back to 2 layers from having 3-5 on previous iterations.
There are still cases to use 3 layers if you prefer to use very small form factor keyboards with less than 40 keys, or you have a small form factor board around that size and also make use of a lot of media keys, foreign language keys, or accented keys.
If you only use the essential keys listed below I think a 2 layer setup will be advantageous on most boards for the following reasons
There is plenty of space:
Use 2 layers and be very deliberate with your thumb clusters. I recommend
Left: alt-ctrl-shift-mod
Right: mod-space-backspace-super (Mod is switch to layer 2 and super is OS key)
submitted by Kuxir to ErgoMechKeyboards [link] [comments]
There are still cases to use 3 layers if you prefer to use very small form factor keyboards with less than 40 keys, or you have a small form factor board around that size and also make use of a lot of media keys, foreign language keys, or accented keys.
If you only use the essential keys listed below I think a 2 layer setup will be advantageous on most boards for the following reasons
There is plenty of space:
- 2 layers are already 4 layers(Shift is a layer!), and 4 layers on almost any keyboard gives you access to every common key.
abcde fghij klmno pqrst uvwxy z 26
ABCDE FGHIJ KLMNO PQRST UVWXY Z 26
12345 67890 10
!@#$% &*() 10
[]\;' ,./ 8
{}:" <>? 8
F1-F12 12
Arrows 4
Enter Shift Alt Ctrl super Space Backspace Delete Tab Esc Mod 10 - 70 Unique (44 Shifted)
- So 35 keys is really all that is needed to have access to everything above with just 1 layer. That's a ~30% board! An atreus for example has 42 keys, a sofle 48. (Note that 35 keys in my opinion does limit you a bit too much, mostly due to modifier duplication from my comboing recommendations, I would want at least a 40 key for greater access to things on layer 0)
- The main culprit for thinking you need many more layers is the splitting of numbers and their shift modified symbols, as well as the shift modified symbols for regular keys (,./[]\;').
- It even seems like you gain so much by splitting them, but really all you're doing is moving them off of the shift layer into a different custom layer. And with that new custom layer you now have another new modifier to keep track of!
- Some people may find that tradeoff worth it! But when making that tradeoff they should keep in mind what they're actually losing (having and extra key that needs to be mapped, duplicate ways to hit the same key, possibly a new layer).
- A third layer could possibly be useful, for those that make use of print, home, end, pageup/down (space/shift+space is mapped to this functionality on most apps fyi), mouse movement keys, media keys, repeat, and foreign language etc, but even then unless you're using almost all of those keys, you could probably easily fit them in a 2 layer layout (Any key past 35 on your keyboard is 2 extra free keys! A sofle for example would have 26 extra keys available before needing a new layer).
- One of the main benefits of keeping your layer count down is removing the need for more layer keys or toggling through layers.
- On 3+ layer keyboards the options you have for managing the extra layers are: 1. Extra layer key, preferrably 2 per layer (taking up the most valuable real estate, the thumb cluster) Why 2 per layer? Because of modifier combos that are common in various apps, you often need to hit 2 mods + a layer key, so if you only have 1 layer key and the mod on the same side is 1 space apart you end up contorting your hand to hit the combo. 2. Toggle key (Requires pressing the same button multiple times, can end up with you on a separate layer, needs to be untoggled) 3. Hold modifier key (Can run into issues depending on what you're doing, will be a bit slower since you need to leave some time for it to actually activate, can be finicky depending on that timing and how fast you're typing) 4. Chorded switch (Needs to have a specific order, will have much more complicated chords in some situations, with possible 5 key combos for common shortcuts in apps)
- With just 2 layers you can keep your thumb cluster down to 8 keys, mods (ctrl, alt, super, shift), space/backspace, and 2 layer keys (one for each hand to be able to hit layer key + mod combos).
- After having using multiple rows with many ways to hit the same key on the same board I've found that having multiple ways to press the same key is not as useful as it seems at first, and in fact is seems actively detrimental when using the keyboard.
- It's often a point of confusion and second guessing when I hit a key I know is available with a different chord, sometimes I pause after hitting the combo thinking I did it wrong (because I know there's an alternate path) and sometimes I second guess myself before hitting the key because I'm split between which key combo to hit it with.
- With a single combo to hit each key there is no ambiguity, so you never second guess yourself and you end up learning the format easier as well as ingrain it into muscle memory faster.
- Plus since it's the standard keybinding for shift it's already something most people are familiar with.
- Most bigram optimizations you want to make are fine, () is on 89 which is going to work well even if you want a numpad layout or a 2x5 number layout, and brackets are on individual keys which can be adjusted to your liking as well.
- You do lose the ability to put certain bigrams together on the same layer like <= >= since they are on different layers. That's a tradeoff you have to make. Is that worth having to deal with a 3rd layer?
- Comboing might be the biggest draw for simplifying to a 2 layer format.
- I don't say much about how your layout itself should look, since that's a personal preference, but I will say that there are 2 important things to try to do to keep comboing possible.
- Keep the mods the same on all layers. It's ((possible)) to have mods only on first layer, hold those down, then go into a new layer, then press what you need. But from my experience, you either have to slow down to make sure it's consistent, or you end up comboing out of order then you end up forgetting which order is supposed to happen because it's muscle memory and it's all a mess.
- Assuming you use thumb clusters for mods (Which I highly recommend), make sure you have a way to hit multiple mods + layers at the same time.
- If you have a setup like: alt ctrl space layer --- enter shift backspace windows (Don't use this it's an example of a problematic setup)
- alt+tab is problematic, you can't hit alt+layer with the same thumb, so you end up contorting your hand
- ctrl+alt+delete for example. It's fairly common to have delete on your 2nd layer. If you have ctrl+alt+layer all on your left thumb cluster then you can't really hit all 3 at the same time comfortably.
- You can try to move the layer over to the right thumb cluster, but then remember windows + arrow (windows + layer), so in that case when moving the layer key maybe make sure it's near the windows so you can double press? I decided to put a layer key on both thumb clusters, but there are also ways to do with by grouping certain keys for double presses (alt+ctrl is very common) and this will depend heavily on which shortcuts you like to use.
Use 2 layers and be very deliberate with your thumb clusters. I recommend
Left: alt-ctrl-shift-mod
Right: mod-space-backspace-super (Mod is switch to layer 2 and super is OS key)
2024.06.02 17:20 Dragon_slaya98 Roaming Road/ Lady in White Part 2 final
I took a week off of work and college had started their two-week break before the next semester. I took my chance and cleared my calendar and booked a trip to the town where my grandfather stayed while he was a journalist. The greyhound ride was a good time for me to figure out my approach, while the busy cityscape outside my window slowly faded into Southern African wilderness, nothing but trees and empty kilometers of road before I reached my stop, a homely town that seemed well connected to the rest despite the distance. It had been many years since my grandfather had set foot in this town, yet I could feel his influence. The roads were now cracked and showed their wear, shops and residences had been renovated and upgraded, looking more modern and slightly out of place.
The hotel my grandfather stayed at while on the investigation was now a more comfortable looking lodge, with a view over the rolling foothills of the Drakensberg and the surrounding cities, one of which I could see my home, vaguely. The sun had begun to set and I still needed to get my information from the residents. I unpacked my things after booking my room and set out, like a tourist with a pen and notebook in hand asking anyone what they may know. To no one’s surprise, they mostly looked at me like I was insane or a knock off Leon Schuster trying to get them to react in a funny way. I had almost given up completely until I sat near one of the social areas where they would light a fire and residents at the lodge would sit and relax while watching the sun go down. I was alone there and just sat drawing the distant landscape dreading the silence for the next week while I waited for the next bus to arrive and I’d return home. Two days passed in mainly silence.
That was until a man sat near me, dressed in weathered jeans and an old top with work boots covered in dust and dirt, his face obscured by a large hat covering his face, his hands in his pockets even as he sat but his arms almost looked skeleton like, his long white hair flowing from either side of his hat.
“Can I help you?” I asked, feeling like he was trying to get my attention.
“No, but I can help you. You cause quite a lot of noise, trying to get the people to talk about something that scares them.” He said, his voice didn’t come across as harsh, more like cautious. The first person who decided to talk to me in a casual manner since a couple days ago. He wanted to tell me what I wanted to know.
Without any hesitation I turned to the page I set aside for notes when the man chuckled.
“Something funny?” I asked.
“You’re going to need more pages than that.” He said, flicking his hat up slightly while he sat back and got comfortable.
“Trust me, this is all I need.” I said feeling like I had to tiptoe around the subject as to not let the opportunity slip, but I also felt overwhelmingly anxious, almost like someone else was watching us. I felt my gaze shift every so often over my shoulder trying to find the entity that was staring a hole through me, apart from a quiet street crossing and some pedestrians; nothing.
“Something there?” Asked the man, as I shook off the feeling. I started getting a bit annoyed by the short answers and questions.
“Just feel like-, never mind. If you’re ready to help give me some information, what should I call you?” I asked as the man took a moment.
“Call me ‘Farmhand’. Since it’ll sound better than my real name, you’ll find that out in time.” Said Farmhand as I wrote that down in my notebook and began phrasing the question in my mind as to get the proper answer. Furiously tapping my pen on the page.
“Just ask, I already know what you want to know.” He said, I looked up from the page, slightly irritated by the confidence.
“How can you be so sure, Farmhand?” I blurted.
“You aren’t the first person to go on this goose chase. The Lady in White is very particular in her targets.” Farmhand explained, I wrote down everything.
“What’s her story, like the true story; why does she haunt this stretch of road?” I asked. Farmhand chuckled.
“She doesn’t haunt, she’s simply looking for a lift.” He said in the distinct Afrikaans twang that so many white South Africans have, it’s by no means ominous, more of a conversation encouragement than anything else.
“A lift? To where?” I asked. I heard so many different types of tales, from her being hostile to men, a companion to young women and a bit of both to younger males. But the main part that stayed the same was that they were alone.
“Her matric dance, my seun.” Farmhand said, the only other person to call me ‘Seun’ was my dad, the Afrikaans for son.
“What exactly happened?” I asked, pen at the ready.
“The legend goes far back, but the main story that my pa always told me was that she was with her boyfriend in the car, they went along this road and broke down; one of the worst places to break down since around eight is when the busses shut down and the last train has departed from the station. She chose to try down the street, bearing in mind how dangerous that is these days, it was a little bit less so then.” Farmhand said as he took off his hat, keeping his gaze at the setting sun.
“How much less dangerous?” I asked.
“Snakes, though the venomous Boomslang doesn’t go out of its way to kill you, no Black Mamba’s live up here. No, we have jackals and caracals, they hunt in packs and pick you off in the dead of night.” Farmhand explained.
“Is that how it happened, how she died?” Farmhand chuckled lightly.
“Nope, she saw a car in the distance and flagged them down, asked them to help take her to town or help her boyfriend. The man took her up the road and when they started to approach where she had broken down, the boyfriend tried flagging them down. Her joy turned to terror as the stranger sped up and before the boyfriend knew it, the car had hit him. The last she saw of him was him tumbling down the hill among the trees.” Farmhand said. Placing his hat on his chest, closing his eyes and bowing his head. After a short silence, I asked:
“What happened next?”
“Well, the girl was hysterical, the car was still speeding up and she yelled at the man to stop, and kept pleading for him to let her go. Eventually the man had stopped, the girl got out and started calling to the boyfriend to see if he had somehow survived, as she did, the stranger hit her on the back of her head and had his way with her.” Farmhand said, provoking a sour taste in my mouth, a sheer sense of guilt welled up in my stomach.
“Now I understand why no one was willing to tell me the story.” I said, slightly defeated. The man put a hand on my knee like my grandfather used to and looked me in the eye. For the first time I noticed his wrinkled but kind face, he smiled.
“It’s not a story everyone can stomach. Come, let’s finish this so you can write your story.” Farmhand said as he sat back on the couch, a thought struck me; was I so obvious that he knew I was a journalist writing a story? Because I don’t remember ever disclosing the fact I was a journalist. Regardless, we continued.
“After the stranger- did the act, what happened?” I asked uneasily, feeling sick to my stomach.
“He put her in his car, and drove back to the spot where they broke down, but a half a kilometer away she woke up and he pushed her out of the car at high speed. She should’ve died there, but she crawled, half her body scratched, scraped and broken. She died slowly and alone. Before she died she heard her boyfriend calling for her.” Farmhand continued.
“Did he ever find her?”
There was silence, even the birds had stopped chirping and the street had gone quiet.
“No, I don’t believe he did. Whether or not he died looking is another story, but that’s not what you’re here for.” The Farmer said as he stood up, placed his hat on his head and began to walk off, before he passed me, he put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it.
“Promise me one thing; be careful. Can you do that for me, Alex?” Farmhand said before he patted me on the shoulder and walked off without waiting for my answer. I turned to confront him but he was gone, it couldn’t have been more than a second, but it was like he vanished into thin air. I was left confused and bewildered. The notes were real, the pen marks solid and clear. The events I was informed of felt vivid, yet the silence that fell around me felt otherworldly. I was feeling lost and exhausted before, now I was more awake than I had ever been.
Around eight that night, the sun had set and the mountain had cast a chilling shadow over the down I stayed, sleet had been reported near us and snow on the mountain. If I was going to get the answer I so desperately wanted, I was going to have to earn it. I walked to my car, steam cascading from my nostrils as the cold air turned frigid with even the slightest of breezes. I got in my car and drove to the first rest point along the mountain to gather some supplies: Some water and snacks, a couple of pre-charged battery packs for my recorder as I don’t want to stop every fifteen to twenty minutes to write down my experience. This would also prove if I was going insane or not, when asked by a couple of the staff at the store, I told them my intentions and they sounded interested for the first time. When I left I tested the packs and sure enough; fully charged and my recorder was clean and ready to be used.
I approached the entrance to the mountain pass that had been the setting for this ghost story that has latched on to me since childhood. No street lamps, no signs, yet the road itself was painted brightly and every so often a glowing marker was placed to ensure you knew when to turn and when to slow down. The threshold felt like a portal, the point where light didn’t reach and would not pass, even down to the road, where it was light, it looked traveled on, occupied and used; the mountain pass looked pristine; almost as if it hadn’t been touched for decades. As I looked beyond the pass, far below what was called the foothills of the Drakensberg, a large highway was built, the lights from the cars, the lamps and signs glowed for kilometers in the distance. After delaying for twenty minutes, I turned my car on, flicked on the high-beams and began my journey.
Every few minutes I would check my recorder, to make sure it was on and still functioning, it lay on the passenger seat in plain view, I could see some bright lights giving me the information if the screen was somehow obscured. It was a long while before anything happened. Maybe it was paranoia, maybe it was anxiety, whatever it was wouldn’t stop me from exploring this legend. Worst thing that could happen is I travel sixty kilometers and nothing happens and it turns out my grandfather was just trying to scare me. I turned again after a lengthy passage of time and I got my answer.
I don’t remember stopping, I don’t even think I saw anyone on the side of the road, maybe it was while I was looking at my recorder, but I felt a cold presence behind me.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Asked a voice, a quiet but feminine voice. A chill erupted throughout my body; a violent sense of panic coursed through my mind because I knew where the sound came from. It came from behind me. My hands began to shake but I dared not take my hands away from the wheel.
“Do you?” It asked again. The answer got caught in my throat, I found myself unable to speak.
“No, not really.” I managed though my voice felt hoarse.
“You seem to know what you want.” The voice said again, it sounded curious. I stayed silent, the road twisted and wound around the mountain in a chaotic and frantic fashion.
“Are you scared?” She asked again, the voice coming from next to me. I turned to look but a cold hand kept my eyes glued to the road.
“Keep your eyes on the road, enough people have died here.” She said, as my nerves calmed slightly.
“Who are you?” I asked, my eyes focused and the world around me much less than an echo.
“Why do you want to know?” She asked, sounding more like she was in a void, her voice had more of an echo than anything else.
“I want to know what happened here. The true story.” I said after taking a breath and gathering my nerves, the road seemed to calm down, from sharp uphill turns to moonlight sweeping curves that allowed my gaze to rest as the shadow of the trees passed us by.
“Can I trust you?” She asked, the question rang through my head as I remember what Farmhand said, how she trusted a stranger who took advantage of her.
“Yes. Yes you can.” I said after a while. The figure turned to me; I could feel her eyes scrutinize every inch of me.
“You’re not like him?” Her questions kept hammering into me, I felt a mix of fear and guilt, knowing who she was referring to.
“I won’t hurt you. I want to help.” I said after a while, gathering a fragile sense of courage as my hands shook furiously. The road seemed to twist and turn, harsh rising hills. Sharp corners told the tale of her many victims as my headlights passed by, the scrapes and dents of hard hits leading to a drop that seemed to have no end, not a single tree could be seen and the moonlight from high above could not pierce the dark veil that lingered joust over the edge of the road. After a while, she spoke again.
“Alright, I trust you.” She said as I allowed my eyes to wander, the figure relaxed in the passenger seat for a while, my recorder on the center console as I saw her blue skin, almost emitting a frozen chill as I saw her dress, torn and tattered, my stomach felt uneasy when I saw bruising and swelling near her inner thighs. Her hands crossed in her lap as I saw the scratches and what looked like deep cuts on her arms and exposed shoulders from the straps on her dress. I could not see much of her face as it seemed her face was bleeding.
“What happened that night?” I asked, concentrating on the road again. My passenger stayed quiet for a while, quietly shuddering and sniffing before she spoke again.
“I was happy, a man I loved decided I would be his date for the matric dance. We’d known each other since we were children. My best friend. We were driving along this road to get to the lodge, where the dance was being held.” Her voice sounded sourly-joyful, her hands didn’t move from her lap much, so as to not distract me with her hand movements.
“It was a while before town, the car started shaking. I thought the tire had blown, but smoke came from the front. We stopped nearby.” She pointed and I could see the flashing of hazard lights and the smell of smoke invaded my nostrils.
“I thought I’d get some help, he said he’d be fine and that I should hurry back. I walked for a while; it was a cold night still. I walked for, I don’t know how long. But I managed to get an old man to stop. He said he’d help; we just need to get my man and he’d sort out the car.” She said as the road began to crack and fall apart at the edge.
“Do you know what he did?” She asked me, I assumed it was a test to see if I was listening.
“He deceived you.” I answered. She nodded, looking down for a short while before continuing.
“He asked why I was alone on this road. I told him I wasn’t, that I was on my way to town with my man, and I told him about who he was, what he meant to me. I was overjoyed when I saw him, my joy turned to confusion, to horror as he sped up and ran him over. I saw his body roll into the trees, I thought for sure he was dead.” She pointed to the part of the road that had a piece of cloth swaying in the breeze, marking where her man was hit and last seen by her.
“After I witnessed my childhood innocence be ripped from me, he finally stopped, that butcher! I blacked out with a sharp pain, when next I woke, I couldn't feel my legs and my fingers were numb. Just before I said anything, he pushed me out of his car. I remember falling, the road was like ice, all I could do was crawl.” She said, her anger translating to the road shifting and breaking apart, turning violently uphill only for the sheer drops and sharp turns that threatened to throw me off the edge. I barely managed to keep the car on the road as the road shifted again, it was so silent that I could hear the tires screeching like a distant wail.
“I’ve searched for years, if he’d ever return, I’d make sure he never left like he left me.” She said as the note my grandfather left in his books, the man who was panicked and sketchy, had his autopsy reveal that he was of the elderly group. I felt a slight pang of guilt as I realized that the man who did this to her was probably dead for a while. I weathered her storm of rage as the stretch of road became calm, as did she.
“I’m sorry you suffered like that; I wish there was something I could do.” I said unconsciously. I felt her gaze soften to me; her rage calmed as she went back to her neutral position.
“He was called ‘Farmhand. Because he was trustworthy, kind and reliable..” My eyes widened as the realization crashed on my face: He lived.
“If you aren’t like how he was, then you don’t deserve to leave this road.” Her voice was harsh, the road began to fall apart, the cracks forming as parts fell away like they had been falling apart for years, though my body was fatigued, I kept the car on the road. As uncomfortable as the ride was, the road soon turned into dirt paths, completely unlit and unpredictable. It felt like hours before it returned to normal, albeit slowly, my hands still shook relentlessly. I understood her outrage. I couldn’t imagine the trauma she experienced, the sadness.
“If you would like, I can take you back to town.” I asked. In retrospect, that was a stupid question.
“I don’t know.” She replied, unsure and confused.
“No rush, we have time.” I said as I turned around and began my long drive back to town. The road swerved and waved calmly, completely different to the approach. I drove to the point where The Lady in White was last seen, after a while I parked my car near the spot and looked to my side. The woman wasn’t there. I looked at my watch and my recorder. The sun had begun to rise over the hills, the air was crisp and fresh, I stayed for a while to just take in the sight of a calm morning before turning my recorder off and driving back.
I returned to my hotel room and after placing everything on the desk, I fell onto my bed and fell asleep, my body was exhausted and my mind was fatigued beyond words. I fell into a dreamless sleep and woke up in the afternoon. Having something to eat I went over the events from last night, pen and paper at the ready, I prepared to hear myself talking to nothing and no one. The doubt set in before I even hit the play button, after a while of convincing myself that I have some concrete evidence, I pressed play. To my surprise, it sounded like there were two people in the car, me and a woman, although the woman’s voice was covered by static. I wrote down all I could, that is what you’re reading.
The next couple of days went by and nothing special happened, I kept to myself most of the time. While analyzing everything I captured. It all seemed like a dream, an incredibly vivid dream. The last note I made during this investigation was: if something like that exists here, surely more stories remain in this part of the world. As the trees faded into the distance as the bus trundled along the trail back, the forest retreating as I returned back to the concrete and steel, it wasn’t long before the questions I had before, followed me home.
submitted by Dragon_slaya98 to nosleep [link] [comments]
The hotel my grandfather stayed at while on the investigation was now a more comfortable looking lodge, with a view over the rolling foothills of the Drakensberg and the surrounding cities, one of which I could see my home, vaguely. The sun had begun to set and I still needed to get my information from the residents. I unpacked my things after booking my room and set out, like a tourist with a pen and notebook in hand asking anyone what they may know. To no one’s surprise, they mostly looked at me like I was insane or a knock off Leon Schuster trying to get them to react in a funny way. I had almost given up completely until I sat near one of the social areas where they would light a fire and residents at the lodge would sit and relax while watching the sun go down. I was alone there and just sat drawing the distant landscape dreading the silence for the next week while I waited for the next bus to arrive and I’d return home. Two days passed in mainly silence.
That was until a man sat near me, dressed in weathered jeans and an old top with work boots covered in dust and dirt, his face obscured by a large hat covering his face, his hands in his pockets even as he sat but his arms almost looked skeleton like, his long white hair flowing from either side of his hat.
“Can I help you?” I asked, feeling like he was trying to get my attention.
“No, but I can help you. You cause quite a lot of noise, trying to get the people to talk about something that scares them.” He said, his voice didn’t come across as harsh, more like cautious. The first person who decided to talk to me in a casual manner since a couple days ago. He wanted to tell me what I wanted to know.
Without any hesitation I turned to the page I set aside for notes when the man chuckled.
“Something funny?” I asked.
“You’re going to need more pages than that.” He said, flicking his hat up slightly while he sat back and got comfortable.
“Trust me, this is all I need.” I said feeling like I had to tiptoe around the subject as to not let the opportunity slip, but I also felt overwhelmingly anxious, almost like someone else was watching us. I felt my gaze shift every so often over my shoulder trying to find the entity that was staring a hole through me, apart from a quiet street crossing and some pedestrians; nothing.
“Something there?” Asked the man, as I shook off the feeling. I started getting a bit annoyed by the short answers and questions.
“Just feel like-, never mind. If you’re ready to help give me some information, what should I call you?” I asked as the man took a moment.
“Call me ‘Farmhand’. Since it’ll sound better than my real name, you’ll find that out in time.” Said Farmhand as I wrote that down in my notebook and began phrasing the question in my mind as to get the proper answer. Furiously tapping my pen on the page.
“Just ask, I already know what you want to know.” He said, I looked up from the page, slightly irritated by the confidence.
“How can you be so sure, Farmhand?” I blurted.
“You aren’t the first person to go on this goose chase. The Lady in White is very particular in her targets.” Farmhand explained, I wrote down everything.
“What’s her story, like the true story; why does she haunt this stretch of road?” I asked. Farmhand chuckled.
“She doesn’t haunt, she’s simply looking for a lift.” He said in the distinct Afrikaans twang that so many white South Africans have, it’s by no means ominous, more of a conversation encouragement than anything else.
“A lift? To where?” I asked. I heard so many different types of tales, from her being hostile to men, a companion to young women and a bit of both to younger males. But the main part that stayed the same was that they were alone.
“Her matric dance, my seun.” Farmhand said, the only other person to call me ‘Seun’ was my dad, the Afrikaans for son.
“What exactly happened?” I asked, pen at the ready.
“The legend goes far back, but the main story that my pa always told me was that she was with her boyfriend in the car, they went along this road and broke down; one of the worst places to break down since around eight is when the busses shut down and the last train has departed from the station. She chose to try down the street, bearing in mind how dangerous that is these days, it was a little bit less so then.” Farmhand said as he took off his hat, keeping his gaze at the setting sun.
“How much less dangerous?” I asked.
“Snakes, though the venomous Boomslang doesn’t go out of its way to kill you, no Black Mamba’s live up here. No, we have jackals and caracals, they hunt in packs and pick you off in the dead of night.” Farmhand explained.
“Is that how it happened, how she died?” Farmhand chuckled lightly.
“Nope, she saw a car in the distance and flagged them down, asked them to help take her to town or help her boyfriend. The man took her up the road and when they started to approach where she had broken down, the boyfriend tried flagging them down. Her joy turned to terror as the stranger sped up and before the boyfriend knew it, the car had hit him. The last she saw of him was him tumbling down the hill among the trees.” Farmhand said. Placing his hat on his chest, closing his eyes and bowing his head. After a short silence, I asked:
“What happened next?”
“Well, the girl was hysterical, the car was still speeding up and she yelled at the man to stop, and kept pleading for him to let her go. Eventually the man had stopped, the girl got out and started calling to the boyfriend to see if he had somehow survived, as she did, the stranger hit her on the back of her head and had his way with her.” Farmhand said, provoking a sour taste in my mouth, a sheer sense of guilt welled up in my stomach.
“Now I understand why no one was willing to tell me the story.” I said, slightly defeated. The man put a hand on my knee like my grandfather used to and looked me in the eye. For the first time I noticed his wrinkled but kind face, he smiled.
“It’s not a story everyone can stomach. Come, let’s finish this so you can write your story.” Farmhand said as he sat back on the couch, a thought struck me; was I so obvious that he knew I was a journalist writing a story? Because I don’t remember ever disclosing the fact I was a journalist. Regardless, we continued.
“After the stranger- did the act, what happened?” I asked uneasily, feeling sick to my stomach.
“He put her in his car, and drove back to the spot where they broke down, but a half a kilometer away she woke up and he pushed her out of the car at high speed. She should’ve died there, but she crawled, half her body scratched, scraped and broken. She died slowly and alone. Before she died she heard her boyfriend calling for her.” Farmhand continued.
“Did he ever find her?”
There was silence, even the birds had stopped chirping and the street had gone quiet.
“No, I don’t believe he did. Whether or not he died looking is another story, but that’s not what you’re here for.” The Farmer said as he stood up, placed his hat on his head and began to walk off, before he passed me, he put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it.
“Promise me one thing; be careful. Can you do that for me, Alex?” Farmhand said before he patted me on the shoulder and walked off without waiting for my answer. I turned to confront him but he was gone, it couldn’t have been more than a second, but it was like he vanished into thin air. I was left confused and bewildered. The notes were real, the pen marks solid and clear. The events I was informed of felt vivid, yet the silence that fell around me felt otherworldly. I was feeling lost and exhausted before, now I was more awake than I had ever been.
Around eight that night, the sun had set and the mountain had cast a chilling shadow over the down I stayed, sleet had been reported near us and snow on the mountain. If I was going to get the answer I so desperately wanted, I was going to have to earn it. I walked to my car, steam cascading from my nostrils as the cold air turned frigid with even the slightest of breezes. I got in my car and drove to the first rest point along the mountain to gather some supplies: Some water and snacks, a couple of pre-charged battery packs for my recorder as I don’t want to stop every fifteen to twenty minutes to write down my experience. This would also prove if I was going insane or not, when asked by a couple of the staff at the store, I told them my intentions and they sounded interested for the first time. When I left I tested the packs and sure enough; fully charged and my recorder was clean and ready to be used.
I approached the entrance to the mountain pass that had been the setting for this ghost story that has latched on to me since childhood. No street lamps, no signs, yet the road itself was painted brightly and every so often a glowing marker was placed to ensure you knew when to turn and when to slow down. The threshold felt like a portal, the point where light didn’t reach and would not pass, even down to the road, where it was light, it looked traveled on, occupied and used; the mountain pass looked pristine; almost as if it hadn’t been touched for decades. As I looked beyond the pass, far below what was called the foothills of the Drakensberg, a large highway was built, the lights from the cars, the lamps and signs glowed for kilometers in the distance. After delaying for twenty minutes, I turned my car on, flicked on the high-beams and began my journey.
Every few minutes I would check my recorder, to make sure it was on and still functioning, it lay on the passenger seat in plain view, I could see some bright lights giving me the information if the screen was somehow obscured. It was a long while before anything happened. Maybe it was paranoia, maybe it was anxiety, whatever it was wouldn’t stop me from exploring this legend. Worst thing that could happen is I travel sixty kilometers and nothing happens and it turns out my grandfather was just trying to scare me. I turned again after a lengthy passage of time and I got my answer.
I don’t remember stopping, I don’t even think I saw anyone on the side of the road, maybe it was while I was looking at my recorder, but I felt a cold presence behind me.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Asked a voice, a quiet but feminine voice. A chill erupted throughout my body; a violent sense of panic coursed through my mind because I knew where the sound came from. It came from behind me. My hands began to shake but I dared not take my hands away from the wheel.
“Do you?” It asked again. The answer got caught in my throat, I found myself unable to speak.
“No, not really.” I managed though my voice felt hoarse.
“You seem to know what you want.” The voice said again, it sounded curious. I stayed silent, the road twisted and wound around the mountain in a chaotic and frantic fashion.
“Are you scared?” She asked again, the voice coming from next to me. I turned to look but a cold hand kept my eyes glued to the road.
“Keep your eyes on the road, enough people have died here.” She said, as my nerves calmed slightly.
“Who are you?” I asked, my eyes focused and the world around me much less than an echo.
“Why do you want to know?” She asked, sounding more like she was in a void, her voice had more of an echo than anything else.
“I want to know what happened here. The true story.” I said after taking a breath and gathering my nerves, the road seemed to calm down, from sharp uphill turns to moonlight sweeping curves that allowed my gaze to rest as the shadow of the trees passed us by.
“Can I trust you?” She asked, the question rang through my head as I remember what Farmhand said, how she trusted a stranger who took advantage of her.
“Yes. Yes you can.” I said after a while. The figure turned to me; I could feel her eyes scrutinize every inch of me.
“You’re not like him?” Her questions kept hammering into me, I felt a mix of fear and guilt, knowing who she was referring to.
“I won’t hurt you. I want to help.” I said after a while, gathering a fragile sense of courage as my hands shook furiously. The road seemed to twist and turn, harsh rising hills. Sharp corners told the tale of her many victims as my headlights passed by, the scrapes and dents of hard hits leading to a drop that seemed to have no end, not a single tree could be seen and the moonlight from high above could not pierce the dark veil that lingered joust over the edge of the road. After a while, she spoke again.
“Alright, I trust you.” She said as I allowed my eyes to wander, the figure relaxed in the passenger seat for a while, my recorder on the center console as I saw her blue skin, almost emitting a frozen chill as I saw her dress, torn and tattered, my stomach felt uneasy when I saw bruising and swelling near her inner thighs. Her hands crossed in her lap as I saw the scratches and what looked like deep cuts on her arms and exposed shoulders from the straps on her dress. I could not see much of her face as it seemed her face was bleeding.
“What happened that night?” I asked, concentrating on the road again. My passenger stayed quiet for a while, quietly shuddering and sniffing before she spoke again.
“I was happy, a man I loved decided I would be his date for the matric dance. We’d known each other since we were children. My best friend. We were driving along this road to get to the lodge, where the dance was being held.” Her voice sounded sourly-joyful, her hands didn’t move from her lap much, so as to not distract me with her hand movements.
“It was a while before town, the car started shaking. I thought the tire had blown, but smoke came from the front. We stopped nearby.” She pointed and I could see the flashing of hazard lights and the smell of smoke invaded my nostrils.
“I thought I’d get some help, he said he’d be fine and that I should hurry back. I walked for a while; it was a cold night still. I walked for, I don’t know how long. But I managed to get an old man to stop. He said he’d help; we just need to get my man and he’d sort out the car.” She said as the road began to crack and fall apart at the edge.
“Do you know what he did?” She asked me, I assumed it was a test to see if I was listening.
“He deceived you.” I answered. She nodded, looking down for a short while before continuing.
“He asked why I was alone on this road. I told him I wasn’t, that I was on my way to town with my man, and I told him about who he was, what he meant to me. I was overjoyed when I saw him, my joy turned to confusion, to horror as he sped up and ran him over. I saw his body roll into the trees, I thought for sure he was dead.” She pointed to the part of the road that had a piece of cloth swaying in the breeze, marking where her man was hit and last seen by her.
“After I witnessed my childhood innocence be ripped from me, he finally stopped, that butcher! I blacked out with a sharp pain, when next I woke, I couldn't feel my legs and my fingers were numb. Just before I said anything, he pushed me out of his car. I remember falling, the road was like ice, all I could do was crawl.” She said, her anger translating to the road shifting and breaking apart, turning violently uphill only for the sheer drops and sharp turns that threatened to throw me off the edge. I barely managed to keep the car on the road as the road shifted again, it was so silent that I could hear the tires screeching like a distant wail.
“I’ve searched for years, if he’d ever return, I’d make sure he never left like he left me.” She said as the note my grandfather left in his books, the man who was panicked and sketchy, had his autopsy reveal that he was of the elderly group. I felt a slight pang of guilt as I realized that the man who did this to her was probably dead for a while. I weathered her storm of rage as the stretch of road became calm, as did she.
“I’m sorry you suffered like that; I wish there was something I could do.” I said unconsciously. I felt her gaze soften to me; her rage calmed as she went back to her neutral position.
“He was called ‘Farmhand. Because he was trustworthy, kind and reliable..” My eyes widened as the realization crashed on my face: He lived.
“If you aren’t like how he was, then you don’t deserve to leave this road.” Her voice was harsh, the road began to fall apart, the cracks forming as parts fell away like they had been falling apart for years, though my body was fatigued, I kept the car on the road. As uncomfortable as the ride was, the road soon turned into dirt paths, completely unlit and unpredictable. It felt like hours before it returned to normal, albeit slowly, my hands still shook relentlessly. I understood her outrage. I couldn’t imagine the trauma she experienced, the sadness.
“If you would like, I can take you back to town.” I asked. In retrospect, that was a stupid question.
“I don’t know.” She replied, unsure and confused.
“No rush, we have time.” I said as I turned around and began my long drive back to town. The road swerved and waved calmly, completely different to the approach. I drove to the point where The Lady in White was last seen, after a while I parked my car near the spot and looked to my side. The woman wasn’t there. I looked at my watch and my recorder. The sun had begun to rise over the hills, the air was crisp and fresh, I stayed for a while to just take in the sight of a calm morning before turning my recorder off and driving back.
I returned to my hotel room and after placing everything on the desk, I fell onto my bed and fell asleep, my body was exhausted and my mind was fatigued beyond words. I fell into a dreamless sleep and woke up in the afternoon. Having something to eat I went over the events from last night, pen and paper at the ready, I prepared to hear myself talking to nothing and no one. The doubt set in before I even hit the play button, after a while of convincing myself that I have some concrete evidence, I pressed play. To my surprise, it sounded like there were two people in the car, me and a woman, although the woman’s voice was covered by static. I wrote down all I could, that is what you’re reading.
The next couple of days went by and nothing special happened, I kept to myself most of the time. While analyzing everything I captured. It all seemed like a dream, an incredibly vivid dream. The last note I made during this investigation was: if something like that exists here, surely more stories remain in this part of the world. As the trees faded into the distance as the bus trundled along the trail back, the forest retreating as I returned back to the concrete and steel, it wasn’t long before the questions I had before, followed me home.
2024.06.02 16:08 pnwatlantic DIY Request: Painting the base of an Apple Magic keyboard
I would like to have a more aesthetic individualized keyboard but, after trying many mechanical keyboards, I've realized that none are as comfortable for me as the base Apple Magic keyboard.
I have a similar ask as this prior post DIY Request: Apple keyboard painting but with a different paint job in mind. I'd like to paint the base of my magic keyboard matte black and then swap out the white keys with black keys from a used model of the larger black key version Magic Keyboard with Touch ID and Numeric Keypad for Mac models with Apple silicon - US English - Black Keys
I have next to no experience painting things though and haven't been able to find good answers online. My rough plan would be to take off all of the keys, mask each of the key slots with some tape and then spray paint the steel frame. I have a few questions though:
submitted by pnwatlantic to DIY [link] [comments]
I have a similar ask as this prior post DIY Request: Apple keyboard painting but with a different paint job in mind. I'd like to paint the base of my magic keyboard matte black and then swap out the white keys with black keys from a used model of the larger black key version Magic Keyboard with Touch ID and Numeric Keypad for Mac models with Apple silicon - US English - Black Keys
I have next to no experience painting things though and haven't been able to find good answers online. My rough plan would be to take off all of the keys, mask each of the key slots with some tape and then spray paint the steel frame. I have a few questions though:
- Should I alter the texture of the frame (sand, etc.) in any way to make the paint adhere better?
- Do I need any primer layer? What should it be?
- How can I best choose the type of paint and color of paint for the black layer? What will it end up looking like on top of the steel frame?
2024.06.02 15:01 ibid-11962 Inspirations and Interactions with Other Media [Post Murtagh Christopher Paolini Q&A Wrap Up #9]
As discussed in the first post, this is my ongoing compilation of the remaining questions Christopher has answered online between August 1st 2023 and April 30th 2024 which I've not already covered in other compilations.
As always, questions are sorted by topic, and each Q&A is annotated with a bracketed source number. Links to every source used and to the other parts of this compilation will be provided in a comment below.
The previous post focused specifically on the writing process. This installment will focus on Inspirations, including Christopher's idea process, specific inspirations used, and some comments about other properties. The next, penultimate post will focus on Worldbuilding and Promotion.
submitted by ibid-11962 to Eragon [link] [comments]
As always, questions are sorted by topic, and each Q&A is annotated with a bracketed source number. Links to every source used and to the other parts of this compilation will be provided in a comment below.
The previous post focused specifically on the writing process. This installment will focus on Inspirations, including Christopher's idea process, specific inspirations used, and some comments about other properties. The next, penultimate post will focus on Worldbuilding and Promotion.
Inspirations
Coming up with ideasDo you have trouble coming up with new ideas? They don't fall out of trees, but it takes me so long to write a book that I usually come up with at least one or two ideas over the six months to a year that it takes to write, edit and publish, if not longer. So they keep accumulating. One of the reasons that I really like having a world to play in for a long time is that the longer I spend in a setting, the more story ideas suggest themselves because you get to know the characters so much and you get to know the implications of the magic in the world and the culture. [1]Executing ideas
What is your inspiration process like? I read a lot of books, I watch a lot of movies, and I make sure I have time to stare out the window and do nothing but daydream. And all of those things continually give me ideas for stories. [20]
Inspiration can come from anywhere, but good stories and good music will actually give me the proverbial tingle up the spine. And basically nothing else in life does that. So I'm always chasing that high. And that's really the inspiration. And trying to replicate that both for myself and for my readers. [33]
I get my inspiration from the beauty of the world itself, from every book and movie that I watch and read, even the bad ones, sometimes especially the bad ones. I get my inspiration from meeting folks like you who have so much energy and enthusiasm and from thinking and talking and listening to music. Everywhere can be a source of inspiration. [36]
I listen to soundtracks when I write. I can't listen to anything with lyrics because it's too distracting. But my biggest source of inspiration is simply the environment in which I live. The mountains around my house look like the mountains from The Lord of the Rings. If I have no experience with the things I write, the descriptions would probably not be as good. You have to look around for inspiration. Photos, visiting places… that which just comes out of your head ultimately has its limitations. You can do a lot, but it helps creativity if you can base it on your own experiences. [23]
You have an idea, you have a spark of thought. Do you jot it down and leave it? Or do you immediately delve into it? It depends on the idea ultimately and it depends how much of it I have. But I always write something down because I have forgotten story ideas in the past, which sucks. So the instant I have something that I think is interesting, I write it down. I won't write most of these because I don't have the time but I write them all down. I have a file here with 140 pages of story ideas, 19,147 words. I try to write it down. If I have a sense of more of the story than the initial thing, then I'll write that down. Then mostly I just let it sit and I think about it while I'm working on other stories. [28]
Would you rather lose a mental battle against another author so he could steal your ideas? Or give away your true name to your literary agent so he could control you? Wow. I trust my agent with my life. But I'd go with the first one, lose a mental battle, because honestly, ideas are cheap, execution is what matters. You could take every single idea I would have and give it to Brandon Sanderson, or any other author, and their execution would be totally different than mine, and vice versa. And quite honestly most authors wouldn't want to write the ideas I have, they have their own ideas. So that seems like the least perilous of the two options. [17]Fantasy Inspirations
When have the greatest flows of creativity happened for you? Whenever I know what I'm trying to write in terms of the scene, I understand what it's doing for the characters and who the characters are. And it all clicks together. And I don't have to sit there, banging my head against the keyboard trying to figure any of that out and then I could just work on writing it. Are there times where you have to bang your head against the keyboard? Or do you just get up and walk outside and just walk away from it? You need to do some of the head banging on occasion just to get past the tough stuff. But you also have to recognize when you're not making any progress and then it's better to step away, move physically in order to get your brain to move. And learning when to step away is always a challenge and has taken me a long time. [34]
What do you think about the idea that when we're asleep, our minds or souls wander off and act unbeknown to us and perhaps ideas aggregate which may lead to us waking up in the morning with sudden ideas, realizations? I think it's a very common occurrence. The whole point of creativity is that you connect two or more things that are seemingly unconnected. That's what a metaphor is or simile. "Her love was like a red, red rose." It's not literally a rose, but you're connecting two things to make a point. So when you sleep the barriers in your mind sort of descend and it's much easier to connect things. And there does seem to be some indication that if you are trying to solve a certain problem or working on something in the back of your head that your subconscious, whatever the hell the subconscious is, this older more instinctual part of the brain, continues to work on the problem even while you sleep. There have been multiple instances of scientists and inventors, engineers, who have actually thought of the solutions to their problems that they're trying to solve while while dreaming. So it's a known phenomena. And it's something that I do try to take advantage of. Sometimes I will think of things I'm trying to solve right before I go to sleep. The trick is you can't do it in a way that stresses you so that it keeps you up. So don't do this if it's going to keep you up. But it doesn't stress me to think about what I'm trying to figure out with the writing. So I'll think about that as I'm falling asleep and a lot of times I'll have a better idea in the morning or a better sense of what path to pursue and sometimes I'll actually dream of a solution. ... There's also some very solid research that says that if you're trying to learn something, whatever that something is, put in a couple hours of study, practice, whatever it is, and then you need to sleep in order for your brain to consolidate that knowledge. So if you pull an all-nighter studying, you're not going to retain the information very well. But if you were able to sleep even for just three hours, it allows the brain to take that temporary knowledge and encode it in more permanent memory. And that seems to be a very important part of the process. [19]
How much has Tolkien influenced your writing, if at all? I wouldn't be here if not for Tolkien. I'll be honest with that. And I think there are a number of other contemporary fantasy authors that were equally as influential on me. But they wouldn't exist without Tolkien either. So Tolkien's the foundation that so much of this genre rests upon. [33]
Which dragon in literature do you find to be the most impactful as an influencer on stories that came after it? Historically, you'd have to put in for St. George and the Dragon, the dragon from Beowulf, Jormungandr, the Midgard Serpent from Norse mythology, Tiamat. Of course, then there's all the Asian dragons as well. And all of those influenced the authors that have influenced us, Anne McCaffrey, Ursula Le Guin, Wizard of Earthsea. Vermithrax Pejorative. [30]
What was the inspiration for how you approached the dragons in your books? For me it was a whole mess of fantasy that I read. Lord of the Rings, of course, with Smaug. The Pit Dragon trilogy by Jane Yolen. Dragon Singer was the first Anne McCaffrey book I read, and that got me into the Dragon Riders of Pern series. I still have a soft spot for Dragon Singer. The Wizard of Earthsea series. Raymond Feist's Magician series. As well as I think the Millennium series by David Eddings. A lot of others. Beowulf, of course. Tad Williams's Memory Sorrow and Thorn, which has some really impressively dangerous dragons in it. [30]
From just the first book and the second I can see how heavily Christopher was 'influenced' by George R R Martin. The part about the swords being imbued with spells to keep them sharp and the dragons growing forever isn't borrowing. It's downright plagiarism. I, uh, have never read GOT. Started the first book in 2011 and bailed when Bran was pushed out the window. However, Tolkien and Dragonriders of Pern were certainly big influences. [R]
Did the way Eragon and Arya ended remind you of the way Will and Lyra ended in His Dark Materials? In love, but unable to be together. Completely unintentional. I didn't read His Dark Materials until I'd already written Eragon (and plotted out the whole series, including the ending). I won't lie though: I love bittersweet endings, and Pullman wrote one of the best ones. [R]
Names
How do you go about naming all the places in Alagaësia? Well, these days I tend to think about where the name is coming from with the internal cultures of the land. So is it an Urgal name? Is it an Elvish name? Is it a Human name? Is it something else? For the human names I'm often drawing from established cultures, Germanic cultures, Scandinavian cultures. But I have a lot of invented and established things within the world itself. So it just sort of depends what I'm writing and how I'm doing it. The nice thing is because I've created various invented languages for the different races, that gives me a good starting place for the feel of some name that I might be creating. [12]Name of Names
Where do the names in your worlds come from? Some are puns, Eragon is Dragon but with an 'e' instead of a 'd'. It also means an Era Gone By. Saphira is from Sapphire. The names also come from historical names: Germanic, Northern influences or were made up by me based on the rules from my world. For example, Murtagh is Irish. [23]
Does the ancient language have a canon name? I know it's never said in order to keep the mystery feel, but out of curiosity, do YOU know it? Or is it something that does not even truly have a name for you? Yup, I do have a name for it. Not sharing it with anyone, though. :D [R]World of Eragon
What is the "World of Eragon"? Well it encompasses the entire Inheritance Cycle (Eragon, Eldest, Brisingr, and Inheritance), as well as The Fork the Witch and the Worm, Murtagh, as well as all the other projects that I hope to be doing in this setting, whether books, games, or other things. And the reason we went with "World of Eragon" instead of something like Alagaësia is because Alagaësia is hard to say and hard to spell, and some of the adventures the characters will be going on actually go beyond that land. So World of Eragon it is. Also I'm rather fond of that Brisingr symbol in the "O" there. It felt appropriate for the character, for the world, and like I said, I like it myself. [Y]Arya
What would you say to introduce someone to the World of Eragon? Well, it's the story of a young man who finds a dragon egg. And the dragon and Eragon, they go on a series of adventures and there's duels and dragons and battles and villains and romance and all the good stuff a story needs. I think it's fundamentally a good hearted series. I don't really like to write stuff that's like super super grim. It definitely is a good place to start if you're getting into epic fantasy and you're a slightly younger reader and then as you go along with the books, adult isn't really the word, but they get more elaborate and epic as the series progresses. I was learning as I wrote the series and so I tried to put all of that learning to use with each new book. [12]
What is the difference between the World of Eragon and other fantasy series? The fact that I wrote it and not someone else! There are definitely references to other works, because I love reading about elves, dwarves, magic and dragons and I wanted to write about them. At the same time, there are some unique aspects. I believe that my magic system is unique in the fantasy genre and I have unique races such as the Werecats, Ra'zac and my slightly different take on Dragons. It's a mix of familiar and really new things. [23]
George [R R Martin] and I invented the name Arya completely independently. We talked about it: he was trying to come up with something fierce and warrior-like … I was thinking of an aria in an opera. [R]Eldest
I was today years old when I realized "Eldest" refers to Murtagh. And Roran. [T]Shruikan
Me, a weeb, reading Shruikan as "shuriken" Where do you think I got the name from? Shruikan is just 'shuriken' rearranged a bit (and with the 'e' changed to an 'a'). [T]Do Well Then
Am I the only one who ever realized that Du Weldenvarden sounds like Do Well Then, Varden? You are not. [T]
People, Places, Things, and Scenes
EragonDoes the character Eragon resemble you? Initially, yes, a lot! But the more the story progressed, the more my hero experienced his own adventures. The common point that remains between him and me is that we both like to ask each other questions. [4]Beor Mountains
What are the commonalities that you now still have with Eragon to this day? Curiosity. Eragon is very curious about the world and wants to understand it and learn, and that's definitely something I still have and still pursue. Probably a willingness to tackle big adventures and projects, even knowing it's going to be a huge thing. And then maybe a basic sense of optimism, all things considered. [19]
Eragon's journey appears to me from the beginning to the end a quest of research of identity, of self-discovery, the "Who am I?" question. Did you put yourself through the same examination Eragon and Saphira did on Vroengard while searching for their true names? And do you have an idea of what your true name will be? I think that identity and character and figuring out who you are is one of the central things of adolescence. Because you transition from a child to an adult and figuring out what sort of an adult you're going to be, and how you fit into society and how you're going to function as an adult once you have agency and power versus a child who usually doesn't have a whole lot of agency and power. And so that's why writing about adolescence to me very naturally becomes writing about identity and who you are. And yes, it's something I have spent a large portion of my life thinking about and figuring myself out. I think I have a pretty good idea of who I am and have had a pretty good idea for a long time. If you asked me to guess at my true name, I think I could come pretty close. [19]
Do you think emulating your characters’ actions is a necessary part of the writing process? It’s definitely not necessary, but it can be helpful. Having personal experience with a particular activity is always a plus. Failing that, books, articles, and YouTube can be a decent substitute. Given that I write about spaceships and dragons, there are somethings that I’ll never be able to encounter in real life . . . but, hey, that’s what our imaginations are for! [10]
I drew a map and it was like the western half of the current map. And I thought, well, this gives me everything I need. But then I was like, "oh, I want to visit this location. I want to visit that location." And pretty soon I realized I was out of space. So I didn't want to spend like days and days drawing another map because I wanted to keep writing. So I took another sheet of printer paper and put it next to the first one, and I quickly scribbled in some mountains in a giant forest. And I was really lazy. I did this in like 15 seconds, 30 seconds tops. And I was moving so fast that I made the mountains huge. And I looked at that and I was like, well, wait a minute, what if they actually were 10 times bigger than the normal mountains? And that's how I got my Beor mountains. Also, I'd read an article about the mountains in New Zealand being 10 miles high if it weren't for erosion, given their rate of upheaval. That also contributed. [34]Roran
You grew up in Montana, is it true that the valley where Eragon comes from is based on that? Yes. There is even a mountain in the valley that is as high and the same shape as Tronjheim, the mountain where the dwarves live. And I looked at that and thought: hm, what if that was a city? You can take things from everyday life and recreate them in something. [23]
Roran and his chapters have a good bit of biblical allegory. It wasn't intentional, but I read a LOT of Biblical stuff growing up. Make of that what you will. [R]Forging of Brisingr
One of my favorite parts of the Inheritance Cycle was the forging of Brisingr. Tell us about the research process you used in order to construct such an intricate and detailed scene. I've done a fair bit of metalworking myself. I built two forges as a kid. I credited in the back of Brisingr two different books I have on Japanese sword making, both of which I referenced pretty heavily because they were relevant, since Brisingr is made for meteorite steel and there's various reasons for using the Japanese method on a western-style sword in that book. So I did some research but I also had a fair bit of practical knowledge and that was helpful. That scene actually was even longer because if you know your metalworking you'll know there's definitely some things I skimmed over or condensed and it was just because the scene was too long and my editor said, "look, Christopher, just summarize or say it was magic. You've got a magic elven smith, let her use some magic, move it along a little faster. So I was aware of the things that I had to skimp over a little bit, but no, that was one of my favorite scenes to write and I think that came through since so many people enjoyed it. [34]Erôthknurl
Is this [Japanese dorodango] what Orik's earth rock was based off of? Of course. [T]Burrow Grubs
Trauma is an element that's always been a part of these books, but it's been talked around and mentioned, up until I think the burrow grubs in Inheritance. That one is rude. They're bad. I won't lie. They came from a nightmare. That literally came from a nightmare. I shared it with the world so that it's out of my head and into yours. But when I write about something, I stop thinking about it. After it's done, it purges it from my brain. [11]Inheritance Climax
I need to know how you came up with the burrow grubs because they've always freaked me out. Bad nightmare. [T]
Was there a particular experience in your life that suggested to you that it was ultimately through compassion and empathy that Eragon will vanquish Galbatorix? No. It was the result of sort of a long chain of logic while writing the books, and a lot of thinking I've been doing about violence and responses to violence and when it's appropriate to use violence. Part of the chain of logic was the fact that I just got sick of writing sword fights. I wrote a lot of sword fights between Eragon and Arya, Eragon and Murtagh, and of course, Roran's hammer fights. So resolving the entire series's conflict just through a physical confrontation felt inadequate. There needed to be a moral component to it. One of my own criticisms for myself here is that I feel like I failed to do that with Roran in Inheritance. There really should have been a little bit slightly deeper resolution to his storyline and his confrontation with Barst that taught us something new or resulted in a change in his character. Roran's character is a little different than Eragon's because he's already grown up in a lot of ways and thus is not resolving the same issues, but a good arc, a good journey, would have reflected on what was happening with Eragon and Galbatorix. So how Roran defeats Barst in some ways should stand in contrast to how Eragon defeats Galbatorix. Maybe it does, but that's something I would have spent more time taking another look at were I to do that now. But again with Eragon and Galbatorix, just one more sword fight was inadequate. So much of the story with Eragon involved him paying attention to the lives of the ants and learning about the different groups in Alagaësia, the Urgals, the dwarves, this and that. So all of that played into this decision to have him defeat Galbatorix in that matter. And with all of that, the fact that I really didn't want there to be some obvious way of defeating Galbatorix. Galbatorix isn't stupid. He protected himself in all of the ways that one might think of protecting himself, and he's had a long time to think about that. So it needed to be something that was non-obvious. Non-obvious and yet inevitable. [19]
Favorites
Which of the fantasy creatures/races did you most enjoy writing about? I obviously love dragons. Before Murtagh I would have said the dwarves because I think they are funnier than the elves, although I enjoy writing about the elves too. But the dwarves are more earthly and interesting and human in their own way. [21]
Who is your own favorite character anyway? Saphira. I used to say Eragon right after that, but nowadays Murtagh is number two. That said, I feel most connected to Brom. Because I'm also getting old and starting to get some white spots in my beard. [21]
Which of your characters would you bring along with you to a deserted island? Saphira, because she could fly me off the deserted island. [34]
Which place in your Eragon universe would you like to live in the most? Probably with my dwarves, because they live in these 10-mile high mountains. And I love mountains and I have a beard like a dwarf these days. And I think the dwarves have more fun than the elves. [2]
Which fantasy world would you like to live in? Middle-Earth can be a nice place to live in some places, especially Hobbiton. I wouldn't mind living in a Hobbit hole and writing my books there. [23]
Interactions with other media properties
Getting into FantasyI got into sci-fi and fantasy because of a magical creature. My parents had a lot of sci-fi fantasy in the house, and I wasn't particularly interested in it at the time. But when I was around eight, my grandfather was taking me through a bookstore. I saw a book that had a knight in full armor without his helmet, holding a spear, facing off with a giant scaly humanoid, dragon-like monster. And at eight years old, all I knew was that this was the coolest book cover I had ever seen in my life and that this therefore must be the best book in the world. And so I begged my grandfather to please, please, please, buy me this book. He wasn't entirely sure about it, but he bought it for me anyway. That ended up being The Ruby Knight by David Eddings, which I took home and I read as fast as I could. I got a little concerned as I got near the back of the book because I was getting through the pages and then there's only this many pages left. I started to get this weird feeling that somehow the author couldn't end the whole story in the number of pages that were left. And sure enough, when I got to the end, I discovered that this was the middle book of a trilogy. Yeah, I wasn't always the brightest kid. So I finished that and immediately said, "well, I need to know what happens". So I went to our library and I read all the David Eddings books they had. There really was no internet back then, so I didn't know what to read next. So I'm standing in the library staring at Eddings, "E". What do I read next? Well, two shelves down from "E" was "F" and there was a giant book called Magician by Raymond Feist, which had a dragon on the cover. And I thought, okay, well maybe that's good. It's got a dragon, the same magical creature. So I checked out that book and I read it and it was pretty awesome. So I read everything by Raymond Feist. And then I go, "well, what do I read now?" And well, a couple of shelves down, there was a book called Mossflower by Brian Jacques which was the prequel to Redwall, so I read the entire Redwall series. And wasn't too far from Brian Jacques to Anne McCaffrey, and there was the Dragon Riders of Pern series. So I basically worked my way through the library, just chasing the covers with dragons and talking animals, which is not the worst way to set up a reading program when you're ten. And that really transformed my life. And I just absolutely fell in love with reading in a way that I never really had before. [35]Anne McCaffrey
Is it awkward though, sitting here between Dragonriders of Pern, the original series about Dragonriders, from a beloved author who was nice enough to give you a blurb for your first novel, knowing that you sort of borrowed the whole Dragonriders thing? Oh, not at all. Absolutely shameless about it. And McCaffrey was kind enough to give me not just a blurb, my first blurb. So funny thing is I did kind of repay her in the most roundabout way. I was touring in Spain and found out that her books were out of print there. And I talked them up so much that they ended up reprinting the entire series in Spain and I blurbed her books in Spain. But you know, it's a small market so it probably doesn't count. Right. No, I would say not. [31]Star Wars
I was homeschooled and raised in a very rural environment in Montana. I had no access to the internet and stuff. I literally had not heard about Star Wars all the way up until I was 14. And it was referenced in the movie Space Camp. And I said, "Why are they saying 'Luke use the force'? What does that mean?" And my dad got this horrified expression on his face. Like he had failed as a parent, and so we watched Star Wars the next day. [5]Star Trek
The problem with Lost is those seasons are full length seasons. I mean it's like 23, 26 episodes. It's a huge commitment. My wife watched Next Generation for the first time a couple years ago, and each season is like 24 or 26 episodes, and it's a big commitment of time. And that's part of the problem getting into something like Battlestar Galactica or something else. [21]The Prisoner
Deep Space Nine is the best Star Trek, because they actually managed to take the Ferengi and turn them into interesting, well-rounded, deep characters, which you wouldn't think, and not just the Ferengi, but other aliens, which the other Star Treks didn't manage to do anything like that, I think. [29]
The original Prisoner television show is the most prophetic piece of science fiction in a lot of ways because it deals with loss of privacy and individuality, the strength of the individual against the system of government. And the cool thing too is that I think The Prisoner is definitely an auteur piece. It was written by Patrick McGuinn who also stars in it and he also directed the majority of episodes. And it directly follows from his earlier series Secret Agent Man. When that show ended he was at a party and there were some governmental officials and someone asked him, so what does a secret agent do when he retires? And he said, I don't know, you tell me what does a secret agent do when he retires? And the bureaucrat just kind of goes, well we take care of them. And that was kind of the beginning of the concept for the show. A lot of people hate the ending. I actually quite like the ending but there's a sense of absurdity to the show as well that I think is very well suited for the nature of modern life given that although we live in a Heinlein future in the sense we have rockets taking off and landing vertically as God and Heinlein intended, at the same time, we live in a very strange modern life and Philip K. Dick captured that, but I also think the prisoner absolutely did. So if you haven't seen The Prisoner, I can't recommend it enough personally. McGuinn had some really strong philosophy driving it underneath. He was a very religious man, actually very similar to Gene Wolfe, both Catholic. And that drove a lot of his beliefs and approach to the material. [21]House of the Dragon
I'm not necessarily a fan of the way George R R Martin writes. House of the Dragon pretty much started with a bloody scene about a young mother who had to pay for the birth of her child with death. My wife was just heavily pregnant, I turned off the TV and didn't look back. But there is no arguing about the quality of Game of Thrones and the enormous cultural impact of the series. All respect. [18]Dragons Love Tacos
I've had to read Dragons Love Tacos to my son more times than I care to remember. Look, dragons do not love tacos. Dragons love some of the things that go into tacos, like cows or maybe sheep or goats. But dragons do not love tacos. And this is sheer slander upon the whole race of dragons. [14]Video Games
They'll probably like the ground meat that sometimes goes into tacos, but no, dragons don't eat tacos. Come on. [34]
What was the first game that you played where you thought, I really love games? Crystal Quest. If anyone remembers that. Old game that was on the Mac Classic. I got up to level 99 on that or something. It was insane. But, yeah, Myst, Riven especially, the Marathon series, Mass Effect trilogy. Loved Control recently. I've spent way too many hours playing Far Cry 5 because it's set in Montana and looks exactly like Montana. And there are some similarities to things in that game, to actual real world stuff, which is kind of weird, but it's cool. I don't know. Too many games to list and they're all awesome. [26]Minecraft
I played a lot of classic Mac games, we're talking about like on the old Mac Classic, so things like Crystal Quest and Starship Mono and things like that. And then later on, when the computers upgraded, I loved the Myst series, so Myst and Riven. My friend had a PC, so I got to play the original Doom and Wolfenstein 3D and all of that. On the Mac, I loved the Marathon series. That was a huge influence on me with storytelling. I'm really excited that they're rebooting it or doing a sequel to the Marathon game finally over at Bungie. So the Marathon trilogy. Unreal Tournament 1999 is still the best shooting game I've ever played in a lot of ways, a tournament game. So yeah, all that stuff definitely had an influence on me. [12]
All of my gaming experience was computer games, video games. One that had a huge influence on me was the old Myst series. Personally I love solving puzzles, so that's the first thing. And also the concept of the series, especially with the second game, Riven, it's all based around people writing books that create new worlds. And you get to go in them and solve puzzles and understand how that world works. And that just tickled every single part of my brain back in the day. [26]
Now, funny thing with Spyro is that the company that made the Spyro games actually worked on the Eragon video game back in the day. Now, I've never played the Spyro games, but my wife is a huge fan of them, and I like Spyro. Proper number of legs. The wings are a little small, though. But sheer force of personality, and at least Spyro's not a dog dragon. [13]
What do you love about Mass Effect? I like the RPG elements, but I like the universe. I like the setting. I like the fact that really their big jump is they assume the existence of this element zero that if I'm remembering it correctly, allows for all of the technology. And then they don't break the laws of physics past that. They assume there's one break from what we know and then explore that. But I love the setting. I like how much blue they use. No, seriously. And if I'm remembering correctly, one of the planets in Mass Effect actually is the planet from Dragon Age. So they've tied in their two different franchises, which is cool. I have so many wonderful memories with the characters and in the world of Mass Effect that in some ways it was almost like a Star Wars experience for video games. [21]
There's great aliens in Mass Effect. I seem to recall Wayne Barlow, an artist, creating a cool book with some aliens in it. [29]
My favorite game these days is Minecraft. If you put a gun to my head and told me I can only have one game for the rest of my life, I'd pick Minecraft right now. If you go to my YouTube channel, you can see my storage system, which is mechanized and can store every single item in the game, either in shulker boxes or bulk storage or chests. It's mechanized. If you're familiar with the Hermitcraft series, they actually invited me on the server as a guest at one point. Scicraft, I got to tour with them. I built a machine to kill the Ender Dragon with one arrow. I love Minecraft. The problem is I could spend so long playing Minecraft, I will never write another book in my life. So I haven't played it in six months. But I really want to update my storage system. So we'll see. [26]Crossovers
You went almost a decade from the time that you published Inheritance to the time that you published another book that people cared about, To Sleep in a Sea of Stars. What were you doing during this time besides Minecraft? Have you seen my storage system in Minecraft? I have, it's pretty solid. It's not just solid, it's like I built a computer in Minecraft. Honestly, I could have written another book. I was going to say, imagine if you had written a book instead. What was I doing in those ten years? Well, I suppose I was just relaxing on my giant pile of money. Plagiarism pays, nepotism pays, I was just relaxing, enjoying life. And then I decided that I should probably, pay tribute to a lot of the sci-fi games and movies that I enjoyed and pluck up a bunch of pieces from them and paste them all together and put out a new book. And that was To Sleep in a Sea of Stars. That's fantastic. Absolutely. And you know what's even better? It won Best Sci-Fi of the Year over at Goodreads. I'm starting to wonder if you might be a pretty smart guy. People have said that on occasion, but I don't really believe it. Yeah, I wouldn't either. No, I wouldn't. I wouldn't. [31]
Who wins in a fight, Kratos or Eragon? I'm enormously fond of Eragon and he does have magic at his disposal, but we are talking about a man who literally killed the Greek pantheon and then the Nordic pantheon. So I hate to say it, but I think Kratos has it here. Not to mention that technically his son becomes the Midgard Serpent. [30]
Who would win in the fight? Eragon or Anne McCaffrey? Not the dragons, the author? Well, look, Anne McCaffrey gave me my first blurb. I kind of have to go with Anne McCaffrey there. [30]
[Rebecca Yarros:] How would our dragons interact with each other? I think your dragons would consider Saphira a bit soft. But I think Saphira would rise to the occasion. She's more humane. Like she's more human. She has more like a softness to her, as where mine are superior jerks. Well, I think also she's trying to be nice for the nice little squishy humans around her. And if she were stuck with a bunch of dragons who weren't quite so nice, she'd probably go a bit more feral. [33]
What would Eragon's signet be if he was in the Fourth Wing world instead? Probably something with fire, firebending essentially. The first spell he ever used was Brisingr, which was fire. So probably something with fire. I think that that seems appropriate. I could come up with something more exotic, but let's face it, Eragon's kind of basic. So it's going to be fire. [33]
I assume Roran would have carried a 45-70 govt in a different timeline. He absolutely would, if not a 45-90 or even a 50-110. [R]
What Taylor Swift song do you feel most represents each character? I’ve never listened to a Taylor Swift song, so … How is that even possible?? You must not have listened to a radio in the last decade. You would be correct. That is actually insane. What kind of music do you listen to? I love classical. However, mostly I listen to movie & game soundtracks while writing. And when not writing, I've had enough music, so don't listen to stuff. I can't listen to anything with English lyrics while writing. Messes with the words in my head. Nothing while lifting? Heh. Heavy Metal. Amon Amarth. That sort of thing. [T]
2024.06.02 15:00 BrodogIsMyName Frontier Fantasy - Chap 41
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Generous hours donated to the editing foundation by WaveOfWire
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Lukewarm water gave way to sand underfoot, frequent rocks and dried sea flora giving the orange shore a coarse design. Following an animate piece of metal to harvest underwater stone was not something the gray-skinned fisherwoman thought she would ever be doing. She hauled the ‘potassium’ up and into the wheelbarrow alongside her sister, the once-submerged resources’ rugged texture reflecting the bright sun’s rays in peculiar ways. Unfortunately, the days were getting colder much faster than she would have liked, despite the plentiful light. It was dismissible, but it ever so slightly urged her toward the warmth of the fires… and her new living quarters—the luxurious abode provided by the star-sent himself.
She could not understand how the brick home was capable of keeping such heat without flames, but she would not question it. Instead, she elected to enjoy the first nights of truly comfortable sleep in a long while… and it had been quite some time since the fisherwoman twins enjoyed the luxury of proper civilization. The village was quiet and peaceful compared to the bustling capitol, but it simply lacked the amenities that a large population provided. Their escape to the island provided poor bedding, no entertainment, little variation in food, and a nauseating deficiency of rum. Oh, how the sisters missed the sweet burning liquid. Their… past… may have heightened such affection for the alcohol, but it also didn’t help that they were suddenly branded as sky-worshipers and forced to flee to a humble islet—one that didn’t have any drinks besides boiled water…
Now look at the fisherwoman; there was no escaping her banishment. All that time spent making good with the locals, just for the inquisitors to show up once more and throw her onto the deck of a boat before it departed for an unknown land. She was not scared of the prospect, no. So what if she was to live on the mainland? It was no less rural than the last island—one they were just getting used to. No, she was vengeful for what they had stripped from her and her sister. They had crawled their way from nothing to something within the capitol only a winter or two prior. They could have lived like regular citizens. She supposed it was the grace of the Mountain God that they were led to an actual deity-sent. The siblings’ living situation had improved, too, even over their previous urban living situation. The two would not have to resort to… alternate forms of making a living ever again. She was even starting to appreciate the honor of completing a hard day’s work.
The wheelbarrow creaked and whined underneath the strain it was put under. The hefty rocks were intent on digging the two wheels deep into the dirt. Her sister’s equipment was fairing much the same, but they persevered, dragging the precious haul to the workshop where the Creator needed them. She shoved the portable storage up and over the small hump of the ‘cargo bay’ entrance, hauling it down the rows of animate creations.
Dozens of ‘hums,’ ‘whirrs,’ ‘tonks,’ ‘slams,’ and ear-mauling scrapes assaulted her senses. The ‘machines’ were clumped up with one another under the bright white lights. They spat materials, clear liquids, and yellow gasses amongst their others in a jumble of… something. Some things boiled, others hissed. There was much going on, with one foreign male at the center of it all.
The Creator stood by a towering device, pushing it with the help of the juvenile and the ceramist. The group slid the apparatus into place, leaving the star-sent to deftly manage the many colors on the glowing, rune-filled panel, while the assistants were dismissed, having received a few genuine words of appreciation from the male.
The gray-skinned fisherwoman clicked her tongue, garnering his attention, his weary eyes meeting her own.
“Hey,” he addressed them casually, eyeing their cargo with a raised brow. “You two are back soon. You can put the stuff in the same place as last, then just close the panel. Appreciate the hard work. Feel free to take a break between the next three loads; these machines won’t work fast enough to keep up with y’all.”
“You have my appreciation,” the twins said in unison.
The two of them did as asked, traversing the maze of tubes and metal, pouring the crumbling rocks into the belly of the machine, making sure to close the door as requested. Her sister sighed and stretched her back, extending all four arms up and backward, revealing the short cuts she had on their undersides. The fisherwoman cringed underneath the sudden aura of shame at the sight… It was the only real differentiator between the two, and it was her fault.
“I believe I shall take up the Creator on his blessing and take a short break by the fire. Will you join me?” her twin asked.
“I will be there shortly. Allow me a moment,” she returned.
Her counterpart squinted playfully. “Planning on something with the males, eh?”
“Nothing of the sort,” the fisherwoman chided, flicking her sister's snout with a singular talon.
The twin scowled and turned away, exiting the castle swiftly.
The fisherwoman shook her head and made her way to the star-sent, heedfulness and hesitation quieting her footsteps. It was an unusual feeling. She was never the best when it came to respecting those higher on the mountain than herself; they were always flippant, derisively ordering and pecking at those ‘who make not an honest day’s work.’ She despised giving her labor for such self-assured fools, forced to put on a face for them while suffering through their ‘hierarchy.’
That was why the small island villagers were so welcoming. They were much less strict in their positions or status, allowing for a community focused on the goals of the whole rather than the aspirations of a singular high-ranking Malkrin. Maybe that was why it was so easy for the gray-skinned twins to return to sincere labor there.
The star-sent was much the same, though… different in one aspect. Where the village had a sort of collectivism while still keeping some status of the elders or those higher up the mountain, the Creator did not seem to place himself within any sort of hierarchy. He was solely focused on seeing the settlement progress, addressing and communicating with whomever as if they were of the same status. It made tasks a lot easier and was most certainly why she felt it so easy to approach him with such an unnecessary question.
He was not by the previous set of machines, leaving the fisherwoman to look around. She scanned the entire floor, looking over much of the equipment, spotting him by one of the desks. She stepped up behind him, curiously eying the items on his table. He was… disassembling his staff? His blunt digits twisted small metallic pieces and pulled off larger ones, sliding the large cylindrical end out. He continued until all the components were resting on their respective cuts of cloth, each cleaned and rubbed down with a few liquids.
The fisherwoman did not realize she was leaning over him and staring until he stopped and stretched upward, inadvertently tapping her snout. His chair jolted out of the way, turning around to face her. The Creator’s body was stiff as his wide eyes bored into her, palm resting atop his shoulder-bound blade. He stared up at her for a long few seconds, his burning glare stunning her in place all the while. A loud huff finally escaped him, his strained posture loosening.
“…Jesus, you fuckin’ scared me,” the high male groaned, his chest still rising and falling rapidly. His hand still had not left his knife. “Did you need something?”
“Forgive me star-sent,” she bowed her head, embarrassment and a hint of shame running through her frills. She quickly excused her actions nervously. “I did not mean to startle you… Nor did wish not to bother you, b-but I have a query. You had mentioned that I was free to ask any.”
“Mm, yeah.” The Creator finally released his blade and took a piece of cloth, returning to his task of rubbing down another metallic piece of his staff. “I’d rather you guys ask questions than sit in confusion. So, what’s up? Is there anything you need to harvest the deposits? We’ve got some metal to spare.”
Sparing metal for her simplistic job? Lord above… “N-No. Please excuse my prodding, but I wish to know what these machines are doing.”
“What they’re doing? Like, each one specifically or as a whole?”
“As a whole, Creator.” She did not dream of wrapping her head around the blessed equipment.
He grabbed a gray tube from his staff’s belt. “Gunpowder… for these. Or, more accurately, modified black powder. It’s just as powerful, but it’ll also put on more of a smoke show… and dirty the hell out of barrels and bolts alike…” He frowned at the components next to him before noticing her confused expression. He shook his head. “Sorry. It’s a powder that ignites and propels—” he dug into the cylinder with his digits and slid out a piece of metal. “—slugs and bullets. It’s essentially the whole reason guns work. I’m sure you’ve seen the FAL Akula’s touting around, right?”
She slowly nodded, understanding what he was alluding to. The dark-green-skinned fisherwoman was quite proud of receiving her own staff, keeping it in hand at all times.
“Yeah, so without this, her weapon would be as good as a piece of wood. That’s why I plan on making so much of it.”
“I… see.” She looked back at the whirring snake of moving parts within the center of the castle, a greater sense of awe settling on her as she took in its final purpose. “So it takes metals from a cave, rocks from the sea floor, and the burnt husks of logs to produce such?”
“There are a few more ingredients, like the spider-crab biofuel and trace air elements, but yeah.” The high male continued to clean the components of his weapon as if the process of gunpowder creation was only a menial accomplishment. “It takes a good bit of specific inputs to make the stuff.”
The others claimed the star-sent to be a wizard, and that would be an easy assessment with his staff and mystic equipment, but that would not be accurate. The Creator was clearly a great alchemist, turning useless materials into the very power of his grand weapons. Not to mention forming fine metals from coarse rocks. How did the settlers not see such? The villagers were more blessed than they realized.
A thousand other questions burned into her mind of what else he was capable of creating. What could he do with tree bark? What about dirt and fish? Were they ingredients of powerful remedies or sturdy materials? The dam almost burst, but she held it in. The star-sent’s invitation to casual conversation should not be squandered by her pestering any further. Perhaps he would enlighten her another time. For now, she was required to complete her tasks—this time with much more purpose than she had prior.
She thanked the high male and left for the shore with a swaying tail. Perhaps her efforts would be rewarded handsomely were she to keep it up.
\= = = = =
Harrison sat back on a stool by the outdoor range. The sun had already been down for some time, keeping much of his work underneath the few Malkrin-sized floodlights placed around the settlement. Their bright white light illuminated the decimated wooden targets twenty meters out, dim moonlit covering the rest of the meadows further beyond. It wasn’t a great idea to stay out in the night, given Tracy’s reconnaissance drones weren’t equipped with any night vision or thermals yet, but there was still work to be done, so he instead relied on two armed females to serve as early warnings and defense while he finished up his testing.
The modified black powder was finally narrowed down to a suitable side-grade for traditional double and triple-base gunpowder. The first batch wasn’t nearly powerful enough, and it dirtied the hell out of the FAL he used. The second attempt was much the same, but actually managed to reach an acceptable muzzle velocity. Now, after a whole day of experimenting with the ingredients, it was a damn powerful propellant. The most important ingredient was the added biofuel-adjacent compounds that were made from, of course, biofuel, and much of the air-extracted elements like oxygen and nitrogen.
It was an increasingly convoluted process that required many of the machines to be switched around. Most of their programmed inputs and outputs had been changed several times by the end of the day. Hell, almost the entirety of the workshop’s stock of chemical and mechanical fabrication units had been used up by the operation—if they hadn’t already been taken by the other ongoing lines of industry.
The powder dirtied the hell out of the rifles, it kicked like a horse, and it was a pain in the ass to synthesize, but it was done. He wouldn’t need to worry about letting loose any bullets into those spider-crabs anymore. He even had a suitable source of metal, solving all of his iron and steel needs too. It was small scale, but it was something, and that little bit of income was all he needed to start scaling up the process and deal with all the alloy-hungry projects he needed to start on.
The first of which was probably going to be simple automated mules for the heavy ore. He spent a good portion of the morning assisting with the mining operations until he was confident that the lumberjack got a hang of the hand-held lasers. The most prevailing thing the engineer learned from his efforts was how much of a pain in the ass it was to drag the sphalerite back on sleds.
They didn’t have any on-hand blueprints for any transportation droids until he traveled to the vehicle bay and got them himself. Thankfully, there just happened to be a woman who specialized in creating automated drones, and she was more than happy to take the task on herself. Some part of him felt a little bit of remorse for dumping the work on the technician, but she genuinely seemed to actually kind of enjoy it, almost like it was just a hobby for her. The woman even had her own corner of the workshop dedicated to her tinkering. It had two fabricators, warm yellow lighting, and plenty of cluttered parts and pieces around her laptop. All of it surrounded a central chair that she used to bounce between the different sections of the building process. One corner was for the printers and requesting components, another was for welding, a third for circuitry, and so on.
However, the whole thing did urge him to visit the vehicle bay before the blood-moon. There were a hell of a lot more applications for drone automation than he realized, and he wasn’t intent on putting all of that on Tracy.
The engineer sighed and rubbed his forehead, grabbing for another blue-leaf on the nearby bullet casing-covered table. The finger-width frond was something he’d been enjoying since the foraging Malkrin started to bring them back. They tasted like the fragrance of jasmine. Simply chewing it and letting the small particles of plant matter mix with saliva created a sort of tea in his mouth. He saw Cera using it alongside the whole ‘females using a stick to sharpen their teeth’ thing, so he asked and was generously given a bunch.
The blue-leaf jutted from his mouth like those depictions of Old-Earth farmers chewing the stems of wheat, slowly being gnawed until its tip as the night went on. He eyed Sharky and the ceramist standing at their post nearby, the two of them staying as alert as possible despite it being later than they would usually go to sleep… Maybe it wasn’t best to test gunpowder late at night with unsuppressed fire while the others were sleeping. A tinge of embarrassment and regret nipped at the back of his head.
It was worth it, though. Their ranged capabilities would benefit immensely from the gunpowder, most likely ensuring their survival to come… if it weren’t some small issues. It was a shame the Malkrin had such difficulties with the weapons. Not enough to make them unusable, but enough to cause annoyance with general handling. The guns were practically compact submachine guns to the giant females. Cera and Akula had a hard time reloading with their big ‘ol talons, especially for the mag-release paddles by the trigger. Not to mention the process of actually packing ammo back in the empty magazines… Furthermore, there was irritation with trying to keep the firearm in a suitable place while they worked. Slings swung around too much, and pack attachments poked their lower arms and back. Of course, none of them voiced their opinions on it. He simply noticed all the ways they squirmed when the gun swung out and poked them in the side, or how they fumbled with them while reloading.
Honestly, at this point he might just consider designing a whole new weapon system if the most basic aspects of kinetics were a bother. Something more ergonomic for them to use and store… probably with a bigger bullet that’s easier for them to handle. He’d figure it out later, after he managed to finish helping Tracy build the automated mule.
“Shar! Cera! C’mere!” he called out, his voice somewhat muffled by the frond stuck between his teeth.
The two females perked up, quickly making their way back to his ramshackle firing point. The paladin clipped her M2 onto her back as she trotted up to his side.
“Are we fin—hed for the even—g?” the maroon-colored Malkrin questioned, looking rather tired.
He packed the can of ammunition up, slapping its cover closed. “Just about. I’ve still gotta test the fifty-cal ammo for your browning, but that’s for us to deal with tomorrow.”
“Of course. Will y–u be requiring this firearm for the durat—n?”
“Luckily for you, I won’t.” He pointed a thumb in the direction of the workshop. “I’ve got another being printed right now.”
The paladin squinted. “Anot—r? For whom?”
Cera flipped through the notebook she used for communication, scribbling on it for a mere second before turning it around for the other two to see. It showed a crude outline of the turret they used during the last blood moon… How’d she know?
“I’m guessing Tracy filled you in, huh?” The technician and the ceramist were pretty close, especially whenever Tracy went to help her with drawing. He slid a few FAL magazines into a small pseudomycelium bag, glancing up at Shar. “We’re planning on putting two or three active turrets up around the modules and possibly around the beach and sphalerite cave—depending on resources, of course.”
A grin spread across Shar’s muzzle, her tail swaying. “So we sh—l be furthering our fortificat—ns? It is wise we act early before the bl—d-moon.”
The engineer continued to pack the range items away with the ceramist's assistance. “Yeah, only about ten days or so until then. We have to make the best of it. But that’s not the only reason; I’m planning on setting out sometime ‘fore the blood-moon to retrieve some data from a module further out. This time, it’ll be a longer expedition; ‘Smore than a day’s walk. We’ll be needing more than just the two of us to keep watch overnight. So yeah, we’ll need to keep home base safe while we’re out.”
She leaned forward, an inspired glint in her eye. “I underst—d. Will there be anyth—g I can do to assist the p—paration process?”
“Nothin’ specific.” He smirked, patting her on her oversized forearm for a moment. “‘Cept training and lifting stuff like you do anyway. Definitely gonna need yer strength for hauling turret materials around. Even more for the bullshit we’ll probably have to go through on the journey.”
Her restrained smile turning into something different than the grin she wore before. “I-I am at your c—mand, Harrison. I give my labor to y–u freely.”
Harrison caught Cera idly watching their conversation, a curious look gathering on her face as she observed him. He soon noticed his palm was resting atop shar’s wrist, his hand in a much different place than he last remembered leaving it. He awkwardly coughed and removed it, returning his attention to the mass of equipment he packed up. “Right, uh… Again, that’s all for the day. Cera, you’re free to check out if you want.”
The addressed female raised a brow, still eying up him and the paladin before wiping the look off her face and smiling. She bowed and gave a short wave, leaving him and Sharky to stand underneath the outdoor floodlights while Cera slunk back to the barracks. He looked back up at the tall female beside him, giving her a knowing look.
“You can head off too if you want. I know you’ll be sleeping anyway if we head back into the workshop.”
She stood up straight, an adorable mix of furrowed brows and a pout resembling offense forming on her visage. “I w—ld not fall asl…” The flushed paladin paused, clearly realizing her inaccuracy, causing Harrison’s smile to grow all the wider. She huffed and quietly continued with her excuses. “I can not leave you to the night by y—rself. What if sculking b—sts enter the castle? I should not dare to l—ve your side.”
He stared at her with lighthearted contempt. “C’mon, Shar. Wouldn’t you rather fall asleep in a comfortable bed than a metal desk? I’m gonna be helping Trace with her drones for a long while too.”
“I would prefer noth—g more than to be within arm’s r—ch of you,” she insisted. Her orange irises burned as her tail found its way around him. “Even still, the other star-s—t has left for the other castle alr—dy.”
He raised a brow, the cool skin of her limb rubbing against his palm. “Wait, Tracy left already? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“F—give me, I was busy patrolling the settlem—t. She offered a short wave to me as she left.”
If the technician was gone already and wasn’t in the workshop in the first place to need his help… why did he even need to be in there? She noticed his realization, leaning in closer. Her eyes glanced away nervously for a short moment as she appeared lost in thought before being wrangled back to match his gaze.
“Then, if there is noth—g else for you to complete with the machines, might I sugg—t a compromise to the is—e at hand?”
He raised a brow curiously.
Short clacks of the talons tapping together filled the air. “W-Well, If y–u were to join my slumber, It would satisfy your wish as w—l as my own. I will not fall asl—p atop the desk and you shall be within my p—tection. I-It would be best for your sl—p if I were there, no?
He gave her an incredulous look, the corners of his cheeks breached by a small smile. It wasn’t a great ‘compromise’ for him, but it wasn’t like he had any place to argue against it, really. He wasn’t that tired, yet there was fuck all to do in the workshop until tomorrow… so… “If it’ll get you to sleep, then fine.”
Her eyes lit up in surprise. She clearly wasn’t expecting him to go without debate. “Y-You… Yes, of c—rse. The offer was intended for both our be—fits…” The paladin gestured toward the other module with a wide arm, her thin confidence barely hiding her vibrating frills. “Sh—l… we…?”
He nodded, letting her tail rest on his shoulder like a scarf as he turned around, nudging her to follow. They strolled through the soft grass and night breeze, eased by the thought of a comfortable bed and sound sleep.
\= = = = =
A consistent click came from Kegara’s talon tapping rhythmically against her shield, the piercing sound mirroring the force of her scalding breaths. The tent was bathed in the flickering hue of flame from a centralized fire, yet the warmth bled from everywhere she looked, which was primarily the current target of her displeasure. When their excursion team returned, the Grand Paladin thought them to come back with results or news, yet they brought only an infuriating pitiful recount of a spineless worm.
Every exhale was riddled with the white-skinned female’s ire as she paced around the trembling, pink-skinned female that stood inside the Grand Paladin’s tent. The fisherwoman’s shaking breaths could barely be heard beneath the sizzling of Kegara’s unfinished meal. She had lost her appetite, and the contents she had been looking forward to were now tainted by the taste of ineptitude. A burnt smell permeated throughout the room. A waste, but no more of a waste than the pathetic trash currently fouling her tent.
The failure’s back was straight, her head was kept level, and her tail was as still as the mountain towering above the camp outside, yet nothing but inadequacy was visible.
The Grand Paladin stopped her pacing in front of the messenger, covering her burning vexation with cold, quiet intent and an edged stare. The fisherwoman swallowed heavily. “Were you at least capable of finding their sea vessel, incompetent one?”
“W-We did, Grand Paladin,” the pitiful excuse for a Malkrin quickly returned, fear and guilt bleeding through her voice. A sense of hope entered those dull eyes as they tried to salvage what was already lost. “There were footsteps we followed along the beach, b-but they were cut off abruptly by the tracks of abhorrent!”
Kegara took another step forward, brows furrowing as she bore her gaze ever deeper into the scum that stood before her, the head-height difference in stature between them further emblazening the glare. Her words grew more heated with every question, each syllable teeming with threats. “Then they perished? Was there blood? Signs of a battle?”
The pink-skinned female struggled to keep herself straight, trembling down to the talons. “T-There was no sign of s-such.”
“And you did not pursue them?” A simple question, and one spoke through a frigid, flat tone. Dignified and controlled, yet making no effort to hide the malice underneath. Her digits twitched, barely restrained.
“N-No, we f-feared the abhor—”
The fisherwoman’s speech was cut short with a choke and a flicker of movement from the white-skinned paladin. A singular hand wrung the failure’s throat and lifted the veritable waste, her grip tight enough to cull the fouled intent before it could spit more worthless drivel. Kegara’s frills shook with her burning projection. “You failed because you were *scared? Fourteen females were **frightened of footprints? You insolent failure! Your heathenous brothers and sisters are left to the whims of the mainland because of your fear! Left to be mauled and eaten alive by the abhorrent!”*
“W-We could not have—”
“SILENCE,” she commanded sharply, her voice a blade that tore through the fisherwoman’s denial. She snarled, feeling the very heartbeat within the fragile neck as her grip tightened. Shameful vocalizations and strained breaths failed to bring air to the pathetic one’s lungs. It would be quicker to silence the fool permanently, and Kegara’s pride demanded it be done. Every move within the paladin’s talons threatened to rend the very flesh beneath them, yet her claws must be stayed, for allowing blood to spill would be an equally foolish mistake. The fisherwoman was lucky; menial labor was a strained resource. Such a failure of a banished fool would be culled on the spot otherwise.
The pink-skinned female was thrown to the ground, dirt being tossed into the air as she skid to a stop. She hacked and coughed on her back, her ragged gasps irritatingly scraping the high one’s ears. Kegara’s slow exhalations poured through clenched teeth as she controlled herself. Perfection required persistence. If she wished to send the group back out for their incompetence, then she would need them to live long enough to do so. To ensure the new banished were found and brought back. To prove themselves worth her kindness.
But were there banished left to collect? The latest group was most likely reduced to bones for the repulsive creatures to gnaw on by now, and it would be but a waste of Malkrin to frivolously send more out. It was a situation wrought from mistakes and inadequacy, searing her flesh with its reflection onto her, painting her image with its wretched color. The vexation burned her from the inside as she resisted the urge to stain her tent with the failure’s red. This was much greater a failure than the fisherwoman could understand, but at least a large catch of meat had been procured. This was still a salvageable outcome.
“Bring half the food to the cooks,” the grand paladin relented with a simmering hiss, glaring down at the coughing lump of shame. “Leave the rest by the cave as always. Do not fail me with such a simple task, or you will prove my benevolence to be a mistake.”
“Of… c-course.” The fisherwoman shakily nodded before shuffling away, all but fleeing the tent to complete her duties. The failure was gone, but her stench persisted.
Kegara spat on the ground, no longer wishing to return to her meal, as disgusting as it had become. The searing exasperation that gnawed at her chest slowly fell away, leaving only the frigid caress of mortification on her frills. The lack of success would carry with it great consequences, and those would carry more in an ever-growing rockslide of punishment.
Would it impact her mission? What would happen if her settlement was incapable of providing logistics for the excavation? Would they no longer return with the relics? How would the Grand Script-keeper react? What of the high priestesses? The Grand Paladin was no fool; she knew where their disdain would lie, should she prove to be as pathetic as that fisherwoman. The blame could not be siphoned off into the tainted peasantry beneath her command. It would be put on her and her alone. She would face judgment without reprieve.
The white-skinned Makrin let out a shaky breath, steeling herself away from the agonizing worries. The solution was as clear as her faith, and just as certain. She would not allow such a mistake to occur again. More capable laborers would be sent next time, paladins without such weaknesses as fear, and success would be enforced.
According to the report, the next island that the inquisitors were approaching was one with a larger population, numbering in the thousands. It was assured that they would find many more of the blighted Malkrin to be exiled, and the traitorous filth would find their labor funneling directly to the mainland. She could perform her duties properly once she had the subordinates to do so.
Those higher on the mountain would see her accomplishments then. Surely.
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Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - SpaceMarines Malkrin
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Lukewarm water gave way to sand underfoot, frequent rocks and dried sea flora giving the orange shore a coarse design. Following an animate piece of metal to harvest underwater stone was not something the gray-skinned fisherwoman thought she would ever be doing. She hauled the ‘potassium’ up and into the wheelbarrow alongside her sister, the once-submerged resources’ rugged texture reflecting the bright sun’s rays in peculiar ways. Unfortunately, the days were getting colder much faster than she would have liked, despite the plentiful light. It was dismissible, but it ever so slightly urged her toward the warmth of the fires… and her new living quarters—the luxurious abode provided by the star-sent himself.
She could not understand how the brick home was capable of keeping such heat without flames, but she would not question it. Instead, she elected to enjoy the first nights of truly comfortable sleep in a long while… and it had been quite some time since the fisherwoman twins enjoyed the luxury of proper civilization. The village was quiet and peaceful compared to the bustling capitol, but it simply lacked the amenities that a large population provided. Their escape to the island provided poor bedding, no entertainment, little variation in food, and a nauseating deficiency of rum. Oh, how the sisters missed the sweet burning liquid. Their… past… may have heightened such affection for the alcohol, but it also didn’t help that they were suddenly branded as sky-worshipers and forced to flee to a humble islet—one that didn’t have any drinks besides boiled water…
Now look at the fisherwoman; there was no escaping her banishment. All that time spent making good with the locals, just for the inquisitors to show up once more and throw her onto the deck of a boat before it departed for an unknown land. She was not scared of the prospect, no. So what if she was to live on the mainland? It was no less rural than the last island—one they were just getting used to. No, she was vengeful for what they had stripped from her and her sister. They had crawled their way from nothing to something within the capitol only a winter or two prior. They could have lived like regular citizens. She supposed it was the grace of the Mountain God that they were led to an actual deity-sent. The siblings’ living situation had improved, too, even over their previous urban living situation. The two would not have to resort to… alternate forms of making a living ever again. She was even starting to appreciate the honor of completing a hard day’s work.
The wheelbarrow creaked and whined underneath the strain it was put under. The hefty rocks were intent on digging the two wheels deep into the dirt. Her sister’s equipment was fairing much the same, but they persevered, dragging the precious haul to the workshop where the Creator needed them. She shoved the portable storage up and over the small hump of the ‘cargo bay’ entrance, hauling it down the rows of animate creations.
Dozens of ‘hums,’ ‘whirrs,’ ‘tonks,’ ‘slams,’ and ear-mauling scrapes assaulted her senses. The ‘machines’ were clumped up with one another under the bright white lights. They spat materials, clear liquids, and yellow gasses amongst their others in a jumble of… something. Some things boiled, others hissed. There was much going on, with one foreign male at the center of it all.
The Creator stood by a towering device, pushing it with the help of the juvenile and the ceramist. The group slid the apparatus into place, leaving the star-sent to deftly manage the many colors on the glowing, rune-filled panel, while the assistants were dismissed, having received a few genuine words of appreciation from the male.
The gray-skinned fisherwoman clicked her tongue, garnering his attention, his weary eyes meeting her own.
“Hey,” he addressed them casually, eyeing their cargo with a raised brow. “You two are back soon. You can put the stuff in the same place as last, then just close the panel. Appreciate the hard work. Feel free to take a break between the next three loads; these machines won’t work fast enough to keep up with y’all.”
“You have my appreciation,” the twins said in unison.
The two of them did as asked, traversing the maze of tubes and metal, pouring the crumbling rocks into the belly of the machine, making sure to close the door as requested. Her sister sighed and stretched her back, extending all four arms up and backward, revealing the short cuts she had on their undersides. The fisherwoman cringed underneath the sudden aura of shame at the sight… It was the only real differentiator between the two, and it was her fault.
“I believe I shall take up the Creator on his blessing and take a short break by the fire. Will you join me?” her twin asked.
“I will be there shortly. Allow me a moment,” she returned.
Her counterpart squinted playfully. “Planning on something with the males, eh?”
“Nothing of the sort,” the fisherwoman chided, flicking her sister's snout with a singular talon.
The twin scowled and turned away, exiting the castle swiftly.
The fisherwoman shook her head and made her way to the star-sent, heedfulness and hesitation quieting her footsteps. It was an unusual feeling. She was never the best when it came to respecting those higher on the mountain than herself; they were always flippant, derisively ordering and pecking at those ‘who make not an honest day’s work.’ She despised giving her labor for such self-assured fools, forced to put on a face for them while suffering through their ‘hierarchy.’
That was why the small island villagers were so welcoming. They were much less strict in their positions or status, allowing for a community focused on the goals of the whole rather than the aspirations of a singular high-ranking Malkrin. Maybe that was why it was so easy for the gray-skinned twins to return to sincere labor there.
The star-sent was much the same, though… different in one aspect. Where the village had a sort of collectivism while still keeping some status of the elders or those higher up the mountain, the Creator did not seem to place himself within any sort of hierarchy. He was solely focused on seeing the settlement progress, addressing and communicating with whomever as if they were of the same status. It made tasks a lot easier and was most certainly why she felt it so easy to approach him with such an unnecessary question.
He was not by the previous set of machines, leaving the fisherwoman to look around. She scanned the entire floor, looking over much of the equipment, spotting him by one of the desks. She stepped up behind him, curiously eying the items on his table. He was… disassembling his staff? His blunt digits twisted small metallic pieces and pulled off larger ones, sliding the large cylindrical end out. He continued until all the components were resting on their respective cuts of cloth, each cleaned and rubbed down with a few liquids.
The fisherwoman did not realize she was leaning over him and staring until he stopped and stretched upward, inadvertently tapping her snout. His chair jolted out of the way, turning around to face her. The Creator’s body was stiff as his wide eyes bored into her, palm resting atop his shoulder-bound blade. He stared up at her for a long few seconds, his burning glare stunning her in place all the while. A loud huff finally escaped him, his strained posture loosening.
“…Jesus, you fuckin’ scared me,” the high male groaned, his chest still rising and falling rapidly. His hand still had not left his knife. “Did you need something?”
“Forgive me star-sent,” she bowed her head, embarrassment and a hint of shame running through her frills. She quickly excused her actions nervously. “I did not mean to startle you… Nor did wish not to bother you, b-but I have a query. You had mentioned that I was free to ask any.”
“Mm, yeah.” The Creator finally released his blade and took a piece of cloth, returning to his task of rubbing down another metallic piece of his staff. “I’d rather you guys ask questions than sit in confusion. So, what’s up? Is there anything you need to harvest the deposits? We’ve got some metal to spare.”
Sparing metal for her simplistic job? Lord above… “N-No. Please excuse my prodding, but I wish to know what these machines are doing.”
“What they’re doing? Like, each one specifically or as a whole?”
“As a whole, Creator.” She did not dream of wrapping her head around the blessed equipment.
He grabbed a gray tube from his staff’s belt. “Gunpowder… for these. Or, more accurately, modified black powder. It’s just as powerful, but it’ll also put on more of a smoke show… and dirty the hell out of barrels and bolts alike…” He frowned at the components next to him before noticing her confused expression. He shook his head. “Sorry. It’s a powder that ignites and propels—” he dug into the cylinder with his digits and slid out a piece of metal. “—slugs and bullets. It’s essentially the whole reason guns work. I’m sure you’ve seen the FAL Akula’s touting around, right?”
She slowly nodded, understanding what he was alluding to. The dark-green-skinned fisherwoman was quite proud of receiving her own staff, keeping it in hand at all times.
“Yeah, so without this, her weapon would be as good as a piece of wood. That’s why I plan on making so much of it.”
“I… see.” She looked back at the whirring snake of moving parts within the center of the castle, a greater sense of awe settling on her as she took in its final purpose. “So it takes metals from a cave, rocks from the sea floor, and the burnt husks of logs to produce such?”
“There are a few more ingredients, like the spider-crab biofuel and trace air elements, but yeah.” The high male continued to clean the components of his weapon as if the process of gunpowder creation was only a menial accomplishment. “It takes a good bit of specific inputs to make the stuff.”
The others claimed the star-sent to be a wizard, and that would be an easy assessment with his staff and mystic equipment, but that would not be accurate. The Creator was clearly a great alchemist, turning useless materials into the very power of his grand weapons. Not to mention forming fine metals from coarse rocks. How did the settlers not see such? The villagers were more blessed than they realized.
A thousand other questions burned into her mind of what else he was capable of creating. What could he do with tree bark? What about dirt and fish? Were they ingredients of powerful remedies or sturdy materials? The dam almost burst, but she held it in. The star-sent’s invitation to casual conversation should not be squandered by her pestering any further. Perhaps he would enlighten her another time. For now, she was required to complete her tasks—this time with much more purpose than she had prior.
She thanked the high male and left for the shore with a swaying tail. Perhaps her efforts would be rewarded handsomely were she to keep it up.
\= = = = =
Harrison sat back on a stool by the outdoor range. The sun had already been down for some time, keeping much of his work underneath the few Malkrin-sized floodlights placed around the settlement. Their bright white light illuminated the decimated wooden targets twenty meters out, dim moonlit covering the rest of the meadows further beyond. It wasn’t a great idea to stay out in the night, given Tracy’s reconnaissance drones weren’t equipped with any night vision or thermals yet, but there was still work to be done, so he instead relied on two armed females to serve as early warnings and defense while he finished up his testing.
The modified black powder was finally narrowed down to a suitable side-grade for traditional double and triple-base gunpowder. The first batch wasn’t nearly powerful enough, and it dirtied the hell out of the FAL he used. The second attempt was much the same, but actually managed to reach an acceptable muzzle velocity. Now, after a whole day of experimenting with the ingredients, it was a damn powerful propellant. The most important ingredient was the added biofuel-adjacent compounds that were made from, of course, biofuel, and much of the air-extracted elements like oxygen and nitrogen.
It was an increasingly convoluted process that required many of the machines to be switched around. Most of their programmed inputs and outputs had been changed several times by the end of the day. Hell, almost the entirety of the workshop’s stock of chemical and mechanical fabrication units had been used up by the operation—if they hadn’t already been taken by the other ongoing lines of industry.
The powder dirtied the hell out of the rifles, it kicked like a horse, and it was a pain in the ass to synthesize, but it was done. He wouldn’t need to worry about letting loose any bullets into those spider-crabs anymore. He even had a suitable source of metal, solving all of his iron and steel needs too. It was small scale, but it was something, and that little bit of income was all he needed to start scaling up the process and deal with all the alloy-hungry projects he needed to start on.
The first of which was probably going to be simple automated mules for the heavy ore. He spent a good portion of the morning assisting with the mining operations until he was confident that the lumberjack got a hang of the hand-held lasers. The most prevailing thing the engineer learned from his efforts was how much of a pain in the ass it was to drag the sphalerite back on sleds.
They didn’t have any on-hand blueprints for any transportation droids until he traveled to the vehicle bay and got them himself. Thankfully, there just happened to be a woman who specialized in creating automated drones, and she was more than happy to take the task on herself. Some part of him felt a little bit of remorse for dumping the work on the technician, but she genuinely seemed to actually kind of enjoy it, almost like it was just a hobby for her. The woman even had her own corner of the workshop dedicated to her tinkering. It had two fabricators, warm yellow lighting, and plenty of cluttered parts and pieces around her laptop. All of it surrounded a central chair that she used to bounce between the different sections of the building process. One corner was for the printers and requesting components, another was for welding, a third for circuitry, and so on.
However, the whole thing did urge him to visit the vehicle bay before the blood-moon. There were a hell of a lot more applications for drone automation than he realized, and he wasn’t intent on putting all of that on Tracy.
The engineer sighed and rubbed his forehead, grabbing for another blue-leaf on the nearby bullet casing-covered table. The finger-width frond was something he’d been enjoying since the foraging Malkrin started to bring them back. They tasted like the fragrance of jasmine. Simply chewing it and letting the small particles of plant matter mix with saliva created a sort of tea in his mouth. He saw Cera using it alongside the whole ‘females using a stick to sharpen their teeth’ thing, so he asked and was generously given a bunch.
The blue-leaf jutted from his mouth like those depictions of Old-Earth farmers chewing the stems of wheat, slowly being gnawed until its tip as the night went on. He eyed Sharky and the ceramist standing at their post nearby, the two of them staying as alert as possible despite it being later than they would usually go to sleep… Maybe it wasn’t best to test gunpowder late at night with unsuppressed fire while the others were sleeping. A tinge of embarrassment and regret nipped at the back of his head.
It was worth it, though. Their ranged capabilities would benefit immensely from the gunpowder, most likely ensuring their survival to come… if it weren’t some small issues. It was a shame the Malkrin had such difficulties with the weapons. Not enough to make them unusable, but enough to cause annoyance with general handling. The guns were practically compact submachine guns to the giant females. Cera and Akula had a hard time reloading with their big ‘ol talons, especially for the mag-release paddles by the trigger. Not to mention the process of actually packing ammo back in the empty magazines… Furthermore, there was irritation with trying to keep the firearm in a suitable place while they worked. Slings swung around too much, and pack attachments poked their lower arms and back. Of course, none of them voiced their opinions on it. He simply noticed all the ways they squirmed when the gun swung out and poked them in the side, or how they fumbled with them while reloading.
Honestly, at this point he might just consider designing a whole new weapon system if the most basic aspects of kinetics were a bother. Something more ergonomic for them to use and store… probably with a bigger bullet that’s easier for them to handle. He’d figure it out later, after he managed to finish helping Tracy build the automated mule.
“Shar! Cera! C’mere!” he called out, his voice somewhat muffled by the frond stuck between his teeth.
The two females perked up, quickly making their way back to his ramshackle firing point. The paladin clipped her M2 onto her back as she trotted up to his side.
“Are we fin—hed for the even—g?” the maroon-colored Malkrin questioned, looking rather tired.
He packed the can of ammunition up, slapping its cover closed. “Just about. I’ve still gotta test the fifty-cal ammo for your browning, but that’s for us to deal with tomorrow.”
“Of course. Will y–u be requiring this firearm for the durat—n?”
“Luckily for you, I won’t.” He pointed a thumb in the direction of the workshop. “I’ve got another being printed right now.”
The paladin squinted. “Anot—r? For whom?”
Cera flipped through the notebook she used for communication, scribbling on it for a mere second before turning it around for the other two to see. It showed a crude outline of the turret they used during the last blood moon… How’d she know?
“I’m guessing Tracy filled you in, huh?” The technician and the ceramist were pretty close, especially whenever Tracy went to help her with drawing. He slid a few FAL magazines into a small pseudomycelium bag, glancing up at Shar. “We’re planning on putting two or three active turrets up around the modules and possibly around the beach and sphalerite cave—depending on resources, of course.”
A grin spread across Shar’s muzzle, her tail swaying. “So we sh—l be furthering our fortificat—ns? It is wise we act early before the bl—d-moon.”
The engineer continued to pack the range items away with the ceramist's assistance. “Yeah, only about ten days or so until then. We have to make the best of it. But that’s not the only reason; I’m planning on setting out sometime ‘fore the blood-moon to retrieve some data from a module further out. This time, it’ll be a longer expedition; ‘Smore than a day’s walk. We’ll be needing more than just the two of us to keep watch overnight. So yeah, we’ll need to keep home base safe while we’re out.”
She leaned forward, an inspired glint in her eye. “I underst—d. Will there be anyth—g I can do to assist the p—paration process?”
“Nothin’ specific.” He smirked, patting her on her oversized forearm for a moment. “‘Cept training and lifting stuff like you do anyway. Definitely gonna need yer strength for hauling turret materials around. Even more for the bullshit we’ll probably have to go through on the journey.”
Her restrained smile turning into something different than the grin she wore before. “I-I am at your c—mand, Harrison. I give my labor to y–u freely.”
Harrison caught Cera idly watching their conversation, a curious look gathering on her face as she observed him. He soon noticed his palm was resting atop shar’s wrist, his hand in a much different place than he last remembered leaving it. He awkwardly coughed and removed it, returning his attention to the mass of equipment he packed up. “Right, uh… Again, that’s all for the day. Cera, you’re free to check out if you want.”
The addressed female raised a brow, still eying up him and the paladin before wiping the look off her face and smiling. She bowed and gave a short wave, leaving him and Sharky to stand underneath the outdoor floodlights while Cera slunk back to the barracks. He looked back up at the tall female beside him, giving her a knowing look.
“You can head off too if you want. I know you’ll be sleeping anyway if we head back into the workshop.”
She stood up straight, an adorable mix of furrowed brows and a pout resembling offense forming on her visage. “I w—ld not fall asl…” The flushed paladin paused, clearly realizing her inaccuracy, causing Harrison’s smile to grow all the wider. She huffed and quietly continued with her excuses. “I can not leave you to the night by y—rself. What if sculking b—sts enter the castle? I should not dare to l—ve your side.”
He stared at her with lighthearted contempt. “C’mon, Shar. Wouldn’t you rather fall asleep in a comfortable bed than a metal desk? I’m gonna be helping Trace with her drones for a long while too.”
“I would prefer noth—g more than to be within arm’s r—ch of you,” she insisted. Her orange irises burned as her tail found its way around him. “Even still, the other star-s—t has left for the other castle alr—dy.”
He raised a brow, the cool skin of her limb rubbing against his palm. “Wait, Tracy left already? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“F—give me, I was busy patrolling the settlem—t. She offered a short wave to me as she left.”
If the technician was gone already and wasn’t in the workshop in the first place to need his help… why did he even need to be in there? She noticed his realization, leaning in closer. Her eyes glanced away nervously for a short moment as she appeared lost in thought before being wrangled back to match his gaze.
“Then, if there is noth—g else for you to complete with the machines, might I sugg—t a compromise to the is—e at hand?”
He raised a brow curiously.
Short clacks of the talons tapping together filled the air. “W-Well, If y–u were to join my slumber, It would satisfy your wish as w—l as my own. I will not fall asl—p atop the desk and you shall be within my p—tection. I-It would be best for your sl—p if I were there, no?
He gave her an incredulous look, the corners of his cheeks breached by a small smile. It wasn’t a great ‘compromise’ for him, but it wasn’t like he had any place to argue against it, really. He wasn’t that tired, yet there was fuck all to do in the workshop until tomorrow… so… “If it’ll get you to sleep, then fine.”
Her eyes lit up in surprise. She clearly wasn’t expecting him to go without debate. “Y-You… Yes, of c—rse. The offer was intended for both our be—fits…” The paladin gestured toward the other module with a wide arm, her thin confidence barely hiding her vibrating frills. “Sh—l… we…?”
He nodded, letting her tail rest on his shoulder like a scarf as he turned around, nudging her to follow. They strolled through the soft grass and night breeze, eased by the thought of a comfortable bed and sound sleep.
\= = = = =
A consistent click came from Kegara’s talon tapping rhythmically against her shield, the piercing sound mirroring the force of her scalding breaths. The tent was bathed in the flickering hue of flame from a centralized fire, yet the warmth bled from everywhere she looked, which was primarily the current target of her displeasure. When their excursion team returned, the Grand Paladin thought them to come back with results or news, yet they brought only an infuriating pitiful recount of a spineless worm.
Every exhale was riddled with the white-skinned female’s ire as she paced around the trembling, pink-skinned female that stood inside the Grand Paladin’s tent. The fisherwoman’s shaking breaths could barely be heard beneath the sizzling of Kegara’s unfinished meal. She had lost her appetite, and the contents she had been looking forward to were now tainted by the taste of ineptitude. A burnt smell permeated throughout the room. A waste, but no more of a waste than the pathetic trash currently fouling her tent.
The failure’s back was straight, her head was kept level, and her tail was as still as the mountain towering above the camp outside, yet nothing but inadequacy was visible.
The Grand Paladin stopped her pacing in front of the messenger, covering her burning vexation with cold, quiet intent and an edged stare. The fisherwoman swallowed heavily. “Were you at least capable of finding their sea vessel, incompetent one?”
“W-We did, Grand Paladin,” the pitiful excuse for a Malkrin quickly returned, fear and guilt bleeding through her voice. A sense of hope entered those dull eyes as they tried to salvage what was already lost. “There were footsteps we followed along the beach, b-but they were cut off abruptly by the tracks of abhorrent!”
Kegara took another step forward, brows furrowing as she bore her gaze ever deeper into the scum that stood before her, the head-height difference in stature between them further emblazening the glare. Her words grew more heated with every question, each syllable teeming with threats. “Then they perished? Was there blood? Signs of a battle?”
The pink-skinned female struggled to keep herself straight, trembling down to the talons. “T-There was no sign of s-such.”
“And you did not pursue them?” A simple question, and one spoke through a frigid, flat tone. Dignified and controlled, yet making no effort to hide the malice underneath. Her digits twitched, barely restrained.
“N-No, we f-feared the abhor—”
The fisherwoman’s speech was cut short with a choke and a flicker of movement from the white-skinned paladin. A singular hand wrung the failure’s throat and lifted the veritable waste, her grip tight enough to cull the fouled intent before it could spit more worthless drivel. Kegara’s frills shook with her burning projection. “You failed because you were *scared? Fourteen females were **frightened of footprints? You insolent failure! Your heathenous brothers and sisters are left to the whims of the mainland because of your fear! Left to be mauled and eaten alive by the abhorrent!”*
“W-We could not have—”
“SILENCE,” she commanded sharply, her voice a blade that tore through the fisherwoman’s denial. She snarled, feeling the very heartbeat within the fragile neck as her grip tightened. Shameful vocalizations and strained breaths failed to bring air to the pathetic one’s lungs. It would be quicker to silence the fool permanently, and Kegara’s pride demanded it be done. Every move within the paladin’s talons threatened to rend the very flesh beneath them, yet her claws must be stayed, for allowing blood to spill would be an equally foolish mistake. The fisherwoman was lucky; menial labor was a strained resource. Such a failure of a banished fool would be culled on the spot otherwise.
The pink-skinned female was thrown to the ground, dirt being tossed into the air as she skid to a stop. She hacked and coughed on her back, her ragged gasps irritatingly scraping the high one’s ears. Kegara’s slow exhalations poured through clenched teeth as she controlled herself. Perfection required persistence. If she wished to send the group back out for their incompetence, then she would need them to live long enough to do so. To ensure the new banished were found and brought back. To prove themselves worth her kindness.
But were there banished left to collect? The latest group was most likely reduced to bones for the repulsive creatures to gnaw on by now, and it would be but a waste of Malkrin to frivolously send more out. It was a situation wrought from mistakes and inadequacy, searing her flesh with its reflection onto her, painting her image with its wretched color. The vexation burned her from the inside as she resisted the urge to stain her tent with the failure’s red. This was much greater a failure than the fisherwoman could understand, but at least a large catch of meat had been procured. This was still a salvageable outcome.
“Bring half the food to the cooks,” the grand paladin relented with a simmering hiss, glaring down at the coughing lump of shame. “Leave the rest by the cave as always. Do not fail me with such a simple task, or you will prove my benevolence to be a mistake.”
“Of… c-course.” The fisherwoman shakily nodded before shuffling away, all but fleeing the tent to complete her duties. The failure was gone, but her stench persisted.
Kegara spat on the ground, no longer wishing to return to her meal, as disgusting as it had become. The searing exasperation that gnawed at her chest slowly fell away, leaving only the frigid caress of mortification on her frills. The lack of success would carry with it great consequences, and those would carry more in an ever-growing rockslide of punishment.
Would it impact her mission? What would happen if her settlement was incapable of providing logistics for the excavation? Would they no longer return with the relics? How would the Grand Script-keeper react? What of the high priestesses? The Grand Paladin was no fool; she knew where their disdain would lie, should she prove to be as pathetic as that fisherwoman. The blame could not be siphoned off into the tainted peasantry beneath her command. It would be put on her and her alone. She would face judgment without reprieve.
The white-skinned Makrin let out a shaky breath, steeling herself away from the agonizing worries. The solution was as clear as her faith, and just as certain. She would not allow such a mistake to occur again. More capable laborers would be sent next time, paladins without such weaknesses as fear, and success would be enforced.
According to the report, the next island that the inquisitors were approaching was one with a larger population, numbering in the thousands. It was assured that they would find many more of the blighted Malkrin to be exiled, and the traitorous filth would find their labor funneling directly to the mainland. She could perform her duties properly once she had the subordinates to do so.
Those higher on the mountain would see her accomplishments then. Surely.
- - - - -
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Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Space
2024.06.02 12:40 orphantwin So what is your favorite Aesop Rock and why exactly?
I have couple favorite songs, Yess And The Yall, Cycles To Gehenna, Gopher Guts, Leisureforce, None Shall Pass, i just love probably every song from every album. Each song has so much density. But if i should pick my all time favorite, it has to be Zero Dark Thirty.
I always loved dudes who are underdogs, complete outsiders and drifters in the form of art. The song actually blends from my perspective him being an outsider and drifter (Unsigned hype, bindle on a broomstick, pancake shoes), basically endlessly traveling and looking for new avenues. He also captures some topic regarding morality and how morality is way more ambiguous than just "right/wrong".
Near the end he says "failed all basic training but i spend couple groundhog days with a challenging silhouette, the gods last cigarette, anything less would be god damn ridicilous". I found these lines absolutely mind blowing - he admits he has no basics but learned everything through hard way. He gained a proper discipline through swimming against current. Make it easier? That would be just ridicilous and not challenging enough.
He also calls out from my point of view materialism and life circled around it. For example enzymes that evolved into mothmens munching textiles. And also how individualism is just failing "a-like androids dreaming of carbon applause" is another absolutely mind blowing line. He is one of the last individuals from the huge surplus of others.
Now i can be wrong about my point of view but this is the way how Zero Dark Thirty speaks to me. Also i have to say i never heard more mind blowing drum schemes in any other hip hop song than on this song, from the snare to how much fills are there. The dope dj scratches are sick as well, love the small obscure samples and the beeping keyboards are amazing! Nice beat transitions as well. The music video of him sitting with a bleak clothes and beard with the dope art on the background is another layer i love.
Zero Dark Thirty is in my opinion the most complete Aesop Rock song. It is thought provoking, catchy, dense, rich and i am always excited when the song starts. I feel like my intellectual compass grows bigger every time when i am listening to this song.
What is your favorite Aes song and why?
submitted by orphantwin to aesoprock [link] [comments]
I always loved dudes who are underdogs, complete outsiders and drifters in the form of art. The song actually blends from my perspective him being an outsider and drifter (Unsigned hype, bindle on a broomstick, pancake shoes), basically endlessly traveling and looking for new avenues. He also captures some topic regarding morality and how morality is way more ambiguous than just "right/wrong".
Near the end he says "failed all basic training but i spend couple groundhog days with a challenging silhouette, the gods last cigarette, anything less would be god damn ridicilous". I found these lines absolutely mind blowing - he admits he has no basics but learned everything through hard way. He gained a proper discipline through swimming against current. Make it easier? That would be just ridicilous and not challenging enough.
He also calls out from my point of view materialism and life circled around it. For example enzymes that evolved into mothmens munching textiles. And also how individualism is just failing "a-like androids dreaming of carbon applause" is another absolutely mind blowing line. He is one of the last individuals from the huge surplus of others.
Now i can be wrong about my point of view but this is the way how Zero Dark Thirty speaks to me. Also i have to say i never heard more mind blowing drum schemes in any other hip hop song than on this song, from the snare to how much fills are there. The dope dj scratches are sick as well, love the small obscure samples and the beeping keyboards are amazing! Nice beat transitions as well. The music video of him sitting with a bleak clothes and beard with the dope art on the background is another layer i love.
Zero Dark Thirty is in my opinion the most complete Aesop Rock song. It is thought provoking, catchy, dense, rich and i am always excited when the song starts. I feel like my intellectual compass grows bigger every time when i am listening to this song.
What is your favorite Aes song and why?
2024.06.02 12:33 The_wandering_kiwi Auto-fill not working on Android. Auto-fill services within Bitwarden mobile app keeps switching itself off.
I tell you what getting set up with Bitwarden is quite quickly becoming the bane of my existence. I don't think it's just me. I can generally set up other things okay but with Bitwarden I run into one problem after another. This time it's with the android auto-fill I just can't get it to work. I've spent hours reading through tutorials and trouble shooting pages on the Bitwarden website. I've read Reddit posts and it seems I'm not the only one having a problem with this.
Anyway I'm using a Samsung running One UI version 6.0 and Android version 14. I'm using a FOSS keyboard from Heliboard/Openboard.
Auto-fill simply won't work on any android apps or within the chrome mobile browser on my phone. Without auto-fill working on my phone Bitwarden is unusable.
Ok, so here's what's happening..... I'm in the settings of the Bitwarden Android app. I go to Auto-fill. The first option is Auto-fill services. It's toggled off so I toggle it on. It opens up a new page loaded by One UI saying 'Preferred service' ...set a preferred service for saving and entering passwords, passkeys and auto-fill information. Initially the option for Bitwarden wasn't there but I went deeper into my phone settings and toggled some more things on so Bitwarden is now an option, so I select Bitwarden as my preferred service. I close out of that page and I'm back onto the Bitwarden Auto-fill settings page. Auto-fill services option is still toggled on but as soon as I exit out of that page and immediately go back into the Auto-fill settings it's toggled itself off again. There's no way for me to keep Auto-fill services toggled on. I'm guessing the reason why Auto-fill is not working is because it keeps immediately switching itself off!
Anyone got any ideas for this?
UPDATE: It seems I've managed to get it working within the chrome browser for a few websites I've tried. It doesn't seem perfect. It works sometimes and not others but it's still never working on any apps at all so that's my next challenge to try and figure out how to make it work on apps.
submitted by The_wandering_kiwi to Bitwarden [link] [comments]
Anyway I'm using a Samsung running One UI version 6.0 and Android version 14. I'm using a FOSS keyboard from Heliboard/Openboard.
Auto-fill simply won't work on any android apps or within the chrome mobile browser on my phone. Without auto-fill working on my phone Bitwarden is unusable.
Ok, so here's what's happening..... I'm in the settings of the Bitwarden Android app. I go to Auto-fill. The first option is Auto-fill services. It's toggled off so I toggle it on. It opens up a new page loaded by One UI saying 'Preferred service' ...set a preferred service for saving and entering passwords, passkeys and auto-fill information. Initially the option for Bitwarden wasn't there but I went deeper into my phone settings and toggled some more things on so Bitwarden is now an option, so I select Bitwarden as my preferred service. I close out of that page and I'm back onto the Bitwarden Auto-fill settings page. Auto-fill services option is still toggled on but as soon as I exit out of that page and immediately go back into the Auto-fill settings it's toggled itself off again. There's no way for me to keep Auto-fill services toggled on. I'm guessing the reason why Auto-fill is not working is because it keeps immediately switching itself off!
Anyone got any ideas for this?
UPDATE: It seems I've managed to get it working within the chrome browser for a few websites I've tried. It doesn't seem perfect. It works sometimes and not others but it's still never working on any apps at all so that's my next challenge to try and figure out how to make it work on apps.
2024.06.02 10:56 GrammarYahtzee123 Explaining each and every one of Sukuna's techniques, tools, and tricks... so far
Hi. I'm the guy that made this similarly titled post about Gojo's techniques at the beginning of the Shinjuku Showdown arc. A year has passed since then, and now that it seems like Sukuna's barrel of surprises has hit its bottom I'd like to go over all of his abilities as a sorcerer in order to put to rest any debates regarding his strength.
One note before we begin, I will be using the TCB's names for techniques and other proper nouns. I do not support John Werry.
Miscellaneous Jujutsu
This is a big enough topic that I think it merits its own section
In the interest of not going over every minute detail of a technique that only somewhat belongs to Sukuna, I will only make note here of changes he made to the technique in order to increase its effectiveness
Since Sukuna now has a reputation as the Binding Vow merchant, we may as well discuss all of them in detail
submitted by GrammarYahtzee123 to Jujutsufolk [link] [comments]
One note before we begin, I will be using the TCB's names for techniques and other proper nouns. I do not support John Werry.
Miscellaneous Jujutsu
- Cursed energy reserves and output – Confirmed by Yuta Okkotsu, who possesses the second highest cursed energy reserves of any known sorcerer, Sukuna's store of energy is mounds higher, exceeding double Yuta's. His output is also nothing shy of monstrous, likely only losing out to Ryu Ishigoori whose claim to fame is having the highest CE output of any sorcerer in history. Making matters worse for his opponents is his tremendous efficiency, another aspect in which he is second only to one other. Even without the Six Eyes, the only means of attaining efficiency greater than his, his ability to spontaneously activate cursed techniques with minimal consumption of energy allows him to chain back-to-back Domain Expansions without concern.
- Reverse Cursed Technique – Not technically a cursed technique, but rather an application of cursed energy manipulation where one multiplies two pools of negative energy together to create positive energy, which can then be used to regenerate human flesh. Unlike Satoru Gojo, Sukuna does not possess Cursed Technique Reversal, but this does not mean his use of RCT is any less impressive. In fact, it is often considered more advanced due to the following:
- External RCT - By using another human's cursed energy to synthesize positive energy, Sukuna can heal bodies other than his own. So far, he has only ever demonstrated this ability on Megumi, though in this case it was strong enough to recover his body from fatal wounds, meaning it is vastly superior to Shoko's in output and effectiveness.
- Healing a destroyed brain – Just as Gojo learned to do, Sukuna is capable of destroying a portion of his brain responsible for maintaining cursed techniques and recovering it with reverse technique in order to more quickly regain access to his technique.
- Domain Amplification – In order to neutralize the effect of an opponent's cursed technique (namely Infinity), Sukuna shrouds himself in the empty shell of a domain, and by not imbuing a cursed technique into it he leaves room for another technique to occupy the space and have its effect canceled out. Because he needs to leave space to funnel his opponent's technique into the domain shell, he cannot use the cursed technique engraved on his body at the same time as Amplification, but if a technique is granted to a barrier via Domain Expansion then he can use it in sync with Amplification. Sukuna also demonstrates a specialized capacity to "pause" a technique's effect when beginning Domain Amplification, demonstrated when bearing the burden of Mahoraga's adaptation to Infinity and Blue between uses of Amplification.
- Hollow Wicker Basket – A predecessor to New Shadow Style's Simple Domain that spreads out a woven, hollow sphere which interferes with a domain's barrier and prevents the sure-hit effect from landing. It is largely inferior to Simple Domain for a plethora of reasons, including;
- Hollow Wicker Basket must be constantly maintained using the hand seal and chants, while Simple Domain only requires maintenance at activation time
- Due to not being a domain, HWB does not grant the buff or debuff properties present in Simple Domain or a true domain. This means it cannot reduce the output of cursed techniques making contact with it in the same way an advanced Simple Domain such as Kusakabe's can
- The more advanced barrier of Simple Domain allows the incorporation of automatic programming for reflexive movement, most commonly seen in sword-drawing techniques. This is a capability entirely lacking in Hollow Wicker Basket
- Despite these glaring issues, Sukuna had little time or care to upgrade to Simple Domain as his own Domain Expansion was more than satisfactory for any domain in the past.
- Black Flash – When cursed energy impacts a target less than one millionth of a second following a physical blow, space distorts and flashes black. The effects of pulling off a Black Flash include awakening to the composition of one's cursed energy and entering an elevated state of performance. Once a single Black Flash has been landed, it becomes measurably easier for a sorcerer to enter a sort-of flow state and chain several together. Sukuna has performed at least four during the ṛaid in the remains of Shinjuku, and after doing so was able to construct a unique relay for Domain Expansion in his brain (more on that later).
- The cursed tools Kamutoke and Hiten – These tools were originally wielded by Sukuna during his rule of the Heian era. Their power is unquantifiable, but high enough that they are nigh uncontested by modern tools. Kamutoke is the only one of the two whose effect was demonstrated in battle when Sukuna used a replica created by Yorozu. It creates a massive electrostatic discharge with destructive properties equivalent to a lightning strike. This cursed tool would have enabled Sukuna to deal far more damage to the sorcerers allied with Jujutsu High had it not been seized in Higuruma's domain.
- Cursed object transmutation – Thanks to his colluding with Kenjaku a millennium ago, Sukuna has gained the ability to sunder his soul into cursed objects which can then reincarnate in a compatible vessel if the two become one. He can either divvy the soul up into several parts or dope the entire conscience and cursed energy pool into a single object, but either way his object of choice is his fingers. If Sukuna has already incarnated in a compatible vessel and hence gained conscience, other fingers will not be able to incarnate separate instances of Sukuna and will instead serve as nothing more than cursed energy stores. There is no evidence to suggest that Sukuna's power is restored logarithmically when reconvening with sundered fingers. Instead, he most likely gains back an equal amount of cursed energy for each object ingested.
- Properties as an incarnated cursed object – After incarnating in a human vessel, Sukuna gains access to their memories, as he shares their brain when operating the body. The result of this is that extensively using his Jujutsu while in a vessel can leave an imprint on it in the form of cursed techniques. This is what enabled Yuji to learn Shrine after awakening with Black Flash. The reverse is also true, however, as Sukuna is more than capable of using the techniques of a body he is incarnated in to compliment his own. Lastly, completing the incarnation and manifesting his original form only replaces the body's external shell – any damage sustained to internal organs of the host will persist. This also means that even though full incarnation makes it more difficult, the cursed object and host can still be torn apart with enough brute force. This is what would have happened if Megumi had contributed to Yuta and Yuji's plan during chapter 251 were it not for his resolve being entirely squashed. Lastly and most bizarrely, Sukuna seems freely capable of deforming his vessels so long as he maintains control of their body, as he did in order to bite off Hana's right arm in chapter 213.
- Dismantle – The default slash Sukuna seems to prefer using. The technique sends an invisible slash or array of slashes flying through the air, cutting whatever it can reach until its cursed energy is exhausted. While it is extremely effective at decomposing inanimate objects and weaker humans, its potency is the lowest of any of Sukuna's techniques. As eloquently put in another comment, the reason Gojo's Six Eyes do not enable him to see Dismantle is because having the ability to perceive fluctuations at an atomic level means nothing if the fluctuations aren't visible – a microscope cannot make gravity visible no matter how close it zooms. Maki's heavenly restriction enables her to see the effect of the slash by the deformations it creates on the surface of air and surrounding objects, but she cannot see the slashes themselves.
- The World-Splitting Dismantle – A version of Dismantle that, instead of throwing slashes at something, expands the intended target for the slash to the entire metaphysical space the target is located in. This allows it to bypass everything from cursed energy reinforcement to cursed techniques to any other conventional defense. No matter how resilient to attacks something is, if the space it occupies is bisected that thing will follow suit. The key word there is bisected, because the world-splitting Dismantle as we've seen it thus far can only cut in a single line. Net-shaped arrays like many of Sukuna's other uses of Dismantle are too complicated for this technique.
- After learning the method to expand Dismantle's target, Sukuna would have been able to use the world-splitting Dismantle as long as he performed the Enmaten hand seal before launching it. However, in order to hit Gojo instantly without warning, he used a Binding Vow that would prevent him from ever using the slash again without the hand seal accompanied by the chants "Scale of the Dragon. Recoil. Twin Meteors." finally followed by pointing with his fingers the direction in which the slash should fly.
- The World-Splitting Dismantle – A version of Dismantle that, instead of throwing slashes at something, expands the intended target for the slash to the entire metaphysical space the target is located in. This allows it to bypass everything from cursed energy reinforcement to cursed techniques to any other conventional defense. No matter how resilient to attacks something is, if the space it occupies is bisected that thing will follow suit. The key word there is bisected, because the world-splitting Dismantle as we've seen it thus far can only cut in a single line. Net-shaped arrays like many of Sukuna's other uses of Dismantle are too complicated for this technique.
- Cleave – A technique that activates on physical contact with its target, automatically adjusting its output and frequency of slashes to cut them down in a single strike. The two main properties it accounts for are cursed energy reinforcement and physical toughness, the latter of which not usually being an issue for Sukuna. However, when his output is severely weakened as it was in Yuta's domain or when his target's cursed energy reinforcement is too high to overcome (Gojo's) Cleave will hit a limit and not be able to fully cut through the target.
- Spider's Thread – A version of Cleave that spreads its slashes out into a spiderweb-shaped array and has been used only once in order to tear up a large portion of earth.
- Furnace – Known informally by many names such as "Black box," "Open," or "Fuga" before the reveal of its actual name, Furnace allows Sukuna to bring a small flame into reality between his palms which can then be aimed and fired at a target. Outside of his domain, Furnace has obscenely high firepower, easily outclassing Jogo's Disaster Flames, but can only be used against a single opponent at a time due to a Binding Vow that will be addressed later. Its speed also leaves much to be desired and works best in one-on-one standoff scenarios. The name of this technique confirms an already supported theory that Sukuna's Shrine is indeed a kitchen (reading the Kanji for Shrine helps confirm this).
This is a big enough topic that I think it merits its own section
- Sukuna's domain is the embodiment of his Shrine in pseudo-physical form that is the most technically impressive in the series. In its default form, Sukuna is capable of expanding a virtual landscape, that being his shrine, into reality without separating the two using a closed barrier. The result of this is a domain whose sure-hit exists within reality itself and not only the closed-off environment created inside a traditional barrier. The reason I specify that he does not use a closed barrier is because there is still a barrier present in Malevolent Shrine, but due to its functionality and shape it can be treated as if it does not exist at all. Inside the domain, objects with cursed energy are torn apart with Cleave adjusted to the appropriate intensity, while Dismantle ruthlessly attacks anything in range without cursed energy until it is reduced to dust. Just as when used outside of his domain, however, factors limiting Sukuna's output can allow someone to survive inside his domain provided they can recover from the wounds created faster than they propagate. Furthermore, while Sukuna generally prefers an open-barriered domain for its immense range and ability to crack the external shell of traditional domains, he is entirely capable of expanding it inside a closed barrier as most other sorcerers do.
- Furnace's true power – After Cleave and Dismantle prepare the "ingredients" of the domain by reducing them to tiny particulate matter, Furnace's real capabilities are put on full display. By dropping it into the mass of dust kicked up by his slashes, Sukuna kickstarts a chain reaction wherein dust particles become thermobaric explosives (fire bombs), setting each other off in a domino effect that scorches everything in the domain and leaves no trace of life behind. In order to make use of this, however, Sukuna must maintain a specified range and output of his domain in order to generate sufficient amounts of dust to begin the reaction. Due to being unable to achieve these conditions during his clashes with Gojo, Furnace would have proven a less effective tool than Ten Shadows for dispatching him. It is also a very situational ability, as there are exceedingly few things that can survive the rain of slashes from Malevolent Shrine long enough that Furnace is even necessary.
- Malfunctioning Shrine – After suffering critical trauma to the region of his brain responsible for maintaining barrier techniques, Sukuna was rendered incapable of expanding his domain for a long time after his fight with Gojo. However, landing multiple consecutive Black Flashes allowed him to build a new relay in his brain through which his barrier technique would operate. You can think of it like coming to a stop on a highway because of a major pileup in the middle of the road, and then plowing through trees in the ditch in order to continue moving along. This is not without its issues, however, as Sukuna was unwilling to sacrifice the quality of his domain in order to kill every one of his opponents simultaneously. By using new, unintended portions of his brain, the domain takes on a grossly disfigured appearance and suffers from instability to the degree that it cannot sustain itself for longer than 100 seconds. Additionally, the edge of the sure-hit range was covered by a barrier preventing escape from the domain, which removed the Binding Vow used in Shibuya to maximize its range but prevented the sorcerers from escaping without Todo's help.
In the interest of not going over every minute detail of a technique that only somewhat belongs to Sukuna, I will only make note here of changes he made to the technique in order to increase its effectiveness
- Partial Summons – By summoning a Shikigami on top of himself or in an incomplete manner, Sukuna can use its traits to his advantage in ways that include a rush of fluid Divine Dogs or Piercing Blood from Max Elephant's water. He mainly uses this for Mahoraga in a way that at first seems bizarre but proves critical to his victory against Gojo. Instead of forcing Mahoraga to take the damage for its adaptations, Sukuna bears the brunt of his opponent's techniques and has the wheel adapt to them, passing it on to Mahoraga who can then respond with a complete adaptation. In this case, Sukuna himself cannot make direct use of whatever adaptation results from the technique, but he can prevent Mahoraga from being taken out in one shot.
- Fusion Beast Agito – A totality Shikigami created using Nue, Great Serpent, Tranquil Deer, and Mourning Tiger that shares all of their properties, including electrifying strikes, regeneration of itself and others, and snake appendage creation. Its strength is unimpressive compared to Mahoraga's, but might have been one of Megumi's strongest Shikigami had he chosen to form it when he had the chance.
Since Sukuna now has a reputation as the Binding Vow merchant, we may as well discuss all of them in detail
- Vows preventing the destruction of his fingers by any form of Jujutsu
- The former "enchain" vow with Yuji that allowed him to switch to Megumi's body
- It's assumed that the promise he made to Jogo before their fight functions like a Binding Vow
- An unnamed vow made with Kenjaku that enforced Sukuna fight Gojo before any final preparations are made, more than likely involving the merger and Kenjaku's insurance
- The vow restricting use on the world-splitting Dismantle in exchange for instantly bisecting Gojo
- Domain vows
- By allowing an escape route from his domain, Sukuna can expand its range when the barrier is unclosed to up to a 200 meter radius
- Several impromptu vows deployed in order to break Gojo's domain from the outside, including disabling his sure-hit inside Gojo's barrier and shrinking the size of Malevolent Shrine, both in order to increase its potency
- Several unspecified vows that allowed the construction of his domain using a foreign region of the brain, one of which included the alteration of hand signs due to missing either of his left hands
- In exchange for maximizing its domino effect inside his domain, Furnace may only be used against a single target outside his domain
2024.06.02 10:17 Blockchain-TEMU DBT-1 Why IMSI May Differ From Events
- IMSI Catcher is created by an individual so only references the news media of the person who created it the IMSI is not representative of actual events and is only the news appropriate version of events 1.1 Imsi may not exceed 3 hours 9 minutes in length so does not show extremely long events besides the 1st Yitvah of the Start for the 2nd Yitvah both of The Third Underworld were personally caught my my nice UAV IMSI which I was dead for the 1st yitvah therein for the events so would see my own corpse on it so it is not halal or verboten variously for me to see this IMSI but this is not my IMSI of the 0th Yitvah of the 3rd Underworld which I made and Tactical Kevin says sucks at least using the agoc to shoot bullets as eragon yo this is a 10 hour set of imsi, you know it is the 1st yitvah because it is not a 3 hour imsi bound but a 10 hour imsi bound and I only got my death as that 10 hour imsi always on the harddrive or EOD Juggernaut is what I traded that for, to survive 1.2 HD Imsi may not exceed 2 hours 15 minutes in length and this was generally what amelia refered to as er imsi was the HD Imsi or CD Imsi which youtube is imsi and self generated content is imsi and a imsi catcher takes in the self generated content and hosts it and made a reference of how the self generated content was made which colorado's longmont uav is hosted by myself violet and hake and she had never ever done this imsi for actual tactical imsi that is how you can tell the tactical imsi is good is it is 3 hours 9 minute and this was imsi sorry this is like a theorama of the situation or a roam the point mockup which I got those at my ruck War Resources all loam used there mainly the firebase but not all firebase actually a few of these loam trigger me for real so I did not include these specific loam which triggered true overlap and had stolen anything which looking into a hat and actually seeing things renders james smith a prophet like E and can steal things or maybe like Cecil Macgregor Senior or not Chelsea ever she is a marine but Technically if Demaris the Secretary did and that heals her I will say, also these exotic imsi of gnomish cercle are not referenced, they use the same method, but are a full sequence thus a blueprint sequence and actually happened, cercle as Chelsea has the exclusive loam to use the Apocalypto 01 Loam set which is totally different than Dragon Skin Overplate Armor (x) x to 40 for this legitimate and as an example of how imsi just is a loose concpetion of things for personell safety I have 29 example loam without the cook secret loam which is the Burned Ramen Squad Secret of their Tobasco vide 1.3 The squad hustles two which takes them into the place from their place they are using the battle buff, and each time if anybody is said to need to use the toilet they use it and they are at the mess always then and greet mcrystal and always get their trays each time and eat very quickly like dogs and are out to the PT Ground who until they are at ease in an operation are at PT and then they get into an APV and drive north to infinity complex where they pick up a hostage rather, somebody who is being treated a super special infinity ward experience by the owner of the coastal full ghillie of the ugandan extraction method of the good markus who former DBT yielded a yo gaba gaba in excess to charlotte blinding her so we had to make sure she is not hind targeted at a filled simulation yo gaba gaba by turning on dora the explorer for her by the three star doing that in the Second Underworld and then she goes back naturally to her room then making markus can see when he is there with them with normal roam the point vision with it on his website the roam the point game then that he is using on flash which roam the point has always been macromedia flash and their experience is as special as markus penis in the stew I make sure I am very quiet to them and that was just like pain to them when I heal them as corpus to the machine to their injury, there were a few there, Ryan, and City, and Aeta, and some Able, and the MP Abraham who was there, and Lucas with his nootropic EDS and horns on him and City SJS and saved them all these people were the first lights usage in 1994 and were breathing normal by definition and these were not ever my master able but a cain able of the outside por able and they were all evacuated with me when I was given EOD Juggernaut in the Third Underworld's 0th yitvah via a 1st yitvah glitch which ryan is meddling in the 2nd yitvah of the Third Underworld so this is promoted until she cums away her daddying with First Underworld which is by definition always in the 0th yitvah but I fucked with this with fire trying to purge ryan she is such a bad girl so gets it in her cervix to promote her loam but dilation it away which she knows dilatio as a charm I taught her as her 1-darappa, she has dilatio the ryan this happened while they were in the van and that was the vaccine morphine I gave them and I dont do IV man my viens are all collapsed so I gave them their whole shot and they are out of the van and into the tent and we are giving them the last of the surgery they ever need with Xrays flying out of the machine by megan and early on we would like take our boots off and hit the speedbag because we are giving the por daddy to rupert but then this clears up i dont tell them boots off faggots by that and I am owning the UH-1 and fly that bitch myself to the liberty missile defense carrier and take the air harness off her and teabagged my dummy the whole dang time over lee be danged i am a pilot medic and and she is on the missile carrier or also the other carrier which is there might bomb me if i overfly it with aegis missile defense carrier and fly me to the aegis and they are onboard and below decks and stable like usual and I get back on the UH-1 and I fly back home and I land real rough here once and think I have to swim it because hake had bad info but this is just some range limit requirement and the UH-1 respawns just once, and I flyed back at least to the coastline that time I meant and had no fuel, and they part and move it from the field I meant it is not in the drink and we do 1 hour Pt there and 1 hour Pt and we are off on ease doing whatever, banging lolas, talking ocho cinco the rest of the day and the rest of the day is generally when most of the no nock raids happen on the houses which the house is a hitler bunker we are fighting into which is right there and el sin nombres hitlers bunker and he is trucking to sword base north and I set up a frag stream in a private imsi over there of the Aeon Pistol with ammo beam, this gives infinite ammo to the aeon pistol which obliterates by definition every hitler jihadi of olafsen which comes out of the sword base bunker we are ratting to the north in fulfillment of the CS-Go range prophecy granting infinite jihadi men effectively for a real life CS-go range in the area and this is separate the main operation which does something 1.4 As we can see, the imsi even here just in a few kilobytes evokes the emotion and especially to the author has a specific signed meaning except if it was pizdet then it did not need the specific signed meaning but the encoded orgasm times of the orgasms user as per Steve Jobs who is not Steve my Doctor Nurse and Trainer of Nurses and A Great minecraft man my steve this indicates only one blessing, a priest fucking it up of the altar boys corpus over everything which the priest is like mo in the teaching of the islamic churches, ed ed and eddys jonnay of the planks as he pours oil blesses everything with a keyboard of corpus which that was his technique mo to bless everything with EQ8 and i always bless with EQ8 and i am also kalmskyan so conflicted so also have a keyboard of corpus not using MIDI but a literal army of chior boys distinct from reality in my omnisphere device generate all manner of music which they are paid typical gold of similar nature to what their grandma gives them for christmas but more so have a particular switcharoo that happens to them to remediate this the Blueberry PC Conspiracy card which tanks Lenovo PC Prices and the American Barrel to 200$ but was consumed by their Morse Bug Encode Talker Glitch Being Very Indeed Useful to the Blueberry PC Conspiracy to dissolve both but still the lenovo PC is tanked and the american PC tanked this is the playing which does this which the second play of a conspiracy card is different than the first one and I have a doxx, I saw ed copeland in my shower devolved from reality and it was my actual shower and nobody ever burned in this shower as is the conflation it is a burn shower and he is my next target of intense DBT to find the penultimate answer to dragons who are beyond violet the dragon.
2024.06.02 08:40 s_mason4 PC Build Request for s_mason4
1. What will you be doing with this PC? Be as specific as possible, and include specific games (ex: resolution, FPS, settings) or programs you will be using.Multi-use. Mainly Solidworks, Davinci Resolve, Photoshop, Asseto Corsa, and then having 45 Chrome Tabs open.
2. What is your maximum PRE-TAX budget before rebates and shipping?$2000 CAD
3. When do you plan on building/buying the PC? Note: beyond a week or two from today means any build you receive will be out of date when you want to buy.End of Summer
4. What, exactly, do you need included in the budget? (ex: toweOS/monitokeyboard/mouse/etc)Tower.
5. If reusing any parts (including monitor(s)/keyboard/mouse/etc), what parts will you be reusing? How old are they? Brands and models are appreciated.Corsair Mouse and Keyboard. 1080P/FHD ACER monitor. May replace with something 4k down the road, Id like to have the ability to run 2 or 3 monitors.
6. Will you be overclocking (ex: CPU/GPU/RAM)? If yes, are you interested in overclocking right away, or down the line?If its something simple and done in the background sure.
7. Are there any specific features or items you want/need in the build? (ex: SSD, Wi-Fi/Bluetooth, VR, VirtualLink, tensor cores, large amount of storage or a RAID setup, CUDA or OpenCL support, etc)BT/WiFi and maybe a 2tb SSD. Also a C Drive over 250 GB for the love of God. Nothing too fancy beyond this.
8. Do you have any specific case preferences (ex: mITX/mATX/mid-towefull-tower sizes, styles, colours, window or not, LED lighting, etc.), or a particular color theme preference for the components?The smaller the better within reason and nothing flashy. It will be hidden away so no need for LEDs.
9. Do you need a copy of Windows included in the budget? Note: some post-secondary students can get Windows 10 for free.I can order this through work if needed.
10. Will you be upgrading this PC in the future (ie: will you swap out better parts later on or will you build an entirely new tower later)? If so, when?Id like it to last for 3-5 years without upgrades. I will eventually swap out parts as needed if possible.
11. Do you have a brand preference? (ex: AMD/Intel for CPUs, AMD/NVIDIA for video cards, etc)No
12. What are the specs of your old PC / laptop? Do you want to see if it can be upgraded instead? If so, paste its build from PCPartPicker here.Something Dell Vostro with a mid-tier i5 and a sad GTX660.
13. Extra info or particulars:Just looking for info on something that will be a solid PC, that is all about performance and not looks.
Of note: I am absolutely fine buying used gear where it makes sense, and I generally buy high/top tier products from the last 2-3 years for other areas of my life. Not sure if this translates with computers. Also, I have no idea if I need a watercooled system but they do concern me for fear of a leak happening.
2024.06.02 08:31 RawSteelUT Making the most of a bad situation - F99's keycaps on a GMMK2, and a painless firmware swap.
 | Welp, after my rather catastrophic failure with the Aula F99, I decided to make the best of a bad situation. See, I'd gotten that keyboard open-box for $47 after shipping and taxes from an ebay seller. Thing is, for as bad as that keyboard treated me, I absolutely adore the keycaps. Considering a comparable set of PBT double-shots seem to cost around $30-$60 or even more depending on how lucky you are on the wheel of seller reputation, I still made out pretty good with the caps. Now all I had to do was get a keyboard to fit them in. submitted by RawSteelUT to MechanicalKeyboards [link] [comments] Enter my brand new white GMMK 2, $20 off at Best Buy. Could have probably gotten a kit for another $20 off, but after the last keyboard, I really wanted something I could just take back easily if things go tits-up. Thankfully, nothing of the sort happened. Indeed, thanks to previous experience, I was able to tear this thing apart and put it back together in far less time than I do when I start with a new keyboard design. Though it is odd to go from no screws to 21 screws (17 on top holding the enclosure and four on the inside holding the PCB to the top plate), I had no problems my Box Navies even after I removed the case foam. And then came the firmware. Since the Aula F99 keycap set had the last five keys on the top row as DEL, HOME, END, PgUp and PgDwn instead of PrtSc, DEL, INS, PgUp and PgDwn, I was going to have to mess around with programming this thing if I didn't want to buy more caps and mix and match. Now, I'll admit I was pretty intimidated by the prospect, but reading a bit showed me how to get the keyboard into bootloader mode (hold B and SPACE while plugging the board into the computer), after which I was able to flash the firmware I got from caniusevia.com using QMK toolbox, and then edit the keys with usevia.app (though I had to download Brave as it doesn't seem to work with Firefox). The result, if I do say so myself, is quite spiffy. https://preview.redd.it/71l2w011r34d1.jpg?width=4080&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=758010e57607c4ed1a161f5a0b3e1ec44f6faeb5 Now I just gotta figure out if there's any way to make the num lock and caps lock LEDs blink when they're active, as the GMMK2 doesn't have any dedicated lock lights and using the QMK firmware disables compatibility with GMMK Core 2, meaning I can't use it to have the left side light blink for caps lock. Any ideas how to do that in VIA? |
2024.06.02 08:25 kremebrul33 Leech field failing
My septic leech field is not allowing flow any longer. I have replaced the septic pump, however the water cannot make it out to the leech field. We are getting it snaked tomorrow and hope that gets us a bandaid fix until we figure out what the real fix is.
I was quoted $18k to do a full un-permitted rebuild of the existing leech field, installation of a sledgehammer and told this should fix the problem.
The septic guy also said that since my home was built in 2005, the new county codes would require we move or extend the leech field to the reserve area. He estimates that would cost $100-150k, based on other similar jobs. We have large granite boulders in the reserve area that would require excavation. We live in central WA state.
I am wondering if anyone has experienced something similar, mainly: 1. Have you replaced your leech field and how much was it? 2. Has anyone else had to deal with updated codes for septic systems while fixing septic issues and did it increase the cost by 5-10x? 3. Any chance anyone has gotten home owners insurance to cover any of this?
submitted by kremebrul33 to HomeMaintenance [link] [comments]
I was quoted $18k to do a full un-permitted rebuild of the existing leech field, installation of a sledgehammer and told this should fix the problem.
The septic guy also said that since my home was built in 2005, the new county codes would require we move or extend the leech field to the reserve area. He estimates that would cost $100-150k, based on other similar jobs. We have large granite boulders in the reserve area that would require excavation. We live in central WA state.
I am wondering if anyone has experienced something similar, mainly: 1. Have you replaced your leech field and how much was it? 2. Has anyone else had to deal with updated codes for septic systems while fixing septic issues and did it increase the cost by 5-10x? 3. Any chance anyone has gotten home owners insurance to cover any of this?
2024.06.02 08:16 kremebrul33 Leech field failing
My septic leech field is not allowing flow any longer. I have replaced the septic pump, however the water cannot make it out to the leech field. We are getting it snaked tomorrow and hope that gets us a bandaid fix until we figure out what the real fix is.
I was quoted $18k to do a full un-permitted rebuild of the existing leech field, installation of a sledgehammer and told this should fix the problem.
The septic guy also said that since my home was built in 2005, the new county codes would require we move or extend the leech field to the reserve area. He estimates that would cost $100-150k, based on other similar jobs. We have large granite boulders in the reserve area that would require excavation. We live in central WA state.
I am wondering if anyone has experienced something similar, mainly: 1. Have you replaced your leech field and how much was it? 2. Has anyone else had to deal with updated codes for septic systems while fixing septic issues and did it increase the cost by 5-10x? 3. Any chance anyone has gotten home owners insurance to cover any of this?
submitted by kremebrul33 to homeowners [link] [comments]
I was quoted $18k to do a full un-permitted rebuild of the existing leech field, installation of a sledgehammer and told this should fix the problem.
The septic guy also said that since my home was built in 2005, the new county codes would require we move or extend the leech field to the reserve area. He estimates that would cost $100-150k, based on other similar jobs. We have large granite boulders in the reserve area that would require excavation. We live in central WA state.
I am wondering if anyone has experienced something similar, mainly: 1. Have you replaced your leech field and how much was it? 2. Has anyone else had to deal with updated codes for septic systems while fixing septic issues and did it increase the cost by 5-10x? 3. Any chance anyone has gotten home owners insurance to cover any of this?
2024.06.02 07:48 Future-Rutabaga9258 [QCRIT] ASCENSION TO HELL - Adult Contemporary Fantasy (114K, 3rd Attempt) + First 300 Words
Hello everyone. I can't thank you enough for all the help I've received here on this subreddit. I've taken your valuable advice and fixed a number of things, but I'm sure I'm still missing some things. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
--
Query
Dear [Agent],
Mark, a journalist who reports from troubled regions to make the world a better place, goes to Heaven after an untimely death. With all the comforts God has to offer, Mark grows increasingly frustrated with the lack of challenges. So when he discovers that Heaven has a therapy for unhappy souls like himself, he gives it a try. And Mark is horrified to learn that the therapy is the live-streaming of Hell's tortures, also known as Hellflix.
Worse, if Mark doesn't complete the therapy and become happy, he will be condemned to Hell. He gives in and becomes a voyeur of others' misery, but then he realizes that new Hellflix episodes are reruns. With the revelation that communication with Hell has been cut off, Heaven wants to find out what's going on. And fast, as its citizens—including Mark—are driven mad with curiosity and concern.
Mark, with his journalistic experience in the harsh conditions, is sent to investigate Hell, where he discovers a shocking truth. There has been a revolution, and now free, many sinners are seeking repentance. While Heaven exploits Hell's political divisions to send the guilty back to suffer, the revolutionists urge Mark to expose Hellflix's dark secrets and unite Hell. He will be eternally damned with billions of others if they fail, but Mark is up for the risk if he can make the world better. He just doesn't know which way to go—bring happiness back to Heaven or save Hell from eternal torment, especially when he doubts that the wicked can truly be redeemed.
ASCENSION TO HELL is an adult contemporary fantasy at 114,000 words, a standalone book that has series potential. It will appeal to those who enjoyed mystery aspect of paranormal realms as in SIGN HERE by Claudia Lux, and modern-day take on the conflict between Heaven and Hell as in THE LIBRARY OF THE UNWRITTEN by A.J. Hackwith.
[BIO] I specifically wrote to you due to [insert reason here]. I am happy to make the full manuscript available upon request and eagerly await your response.
Warm regards,
[Insert name]
First 300
Long was the line. But I won’t add some typical adverbs here, like unbelievably and infinitely, to emphasize the point. Well, it might make our hardship sound like that of people waiting in line for a new iPhone, and I hate to give you that impression. In truth, the real pain of the line came more from not knowing where it would end than from its length. The Line of the Dead moved forward, twisting and turning like a giant snake. And I, one of the countless scales clinging to its sinister and hideous body, could only wait in vain, no matter how fast it moved or how far it went.
Why did I not think of breaking free and running away, then? Before I tell you this, I must tell you about the six of us who endured the long wait together.
First up goes Lewis.
I was behind the line before the hot Spanish sun, reflected off the chrome bumper of the truck that had hit me, faded from sight. We were standing in a wasteland where the vast, desolate plain offered nothing but peculiar rocks on the distant horizon. I looked behind me to find a multitude of people, their numbers growing, perhaps wearing the same bewildered faces as mine. I hadn’t taken a single step, yet these people had already placed me in line and made me an inseparable part of it.
Then I looked forward again and met the black eyes of a handsome young man who must have died right before me. The man, whose name I would later learn was Lewis, was confused, angry, frustrated, and most of all, in love. There was enough will in his blazing eyes to kill me again if I had thwarted a certain goal of his. Not finding what he was looking for behind him, the man ran straight ahead.
submitted by Future-Rutabaga9258 to PubTips [link] [comments]
--
Query
Dear [Agent],
Mark, a journalist who reports from troubled regions to make the world a better place, goes to Heaven after an untimely death. With all the comforts God has to offer, Mark grows increasingly frustrated with the lack of challenges. So when he discovers that Heaven has a therapy for unhappy souls like himself, he gives it a try. And Mark is horrified to learn that the therapy is the live-streaming of Hell's tortures, also known as Hellflix.
Worse, if Mark doesn't complete the therapy and become happy, he will be condemned to Hell. He gives in and becomes a voyeur of others' misery, but then he realizes that new Hellflix episodes are reruns. With the revelation that communication with Hell has been cut off, Heaven wants to find out what's going on. And fast, as its citizens—including Mark—are driven mad with curiosity and concern.
Mark, with his journalistic experience in the harsh conditions, is sent to investigate Hell, where he discovers a shocking truth. There has been a revolution, and now free, many sinners are seeking repentance. While Heaven exploits Hell's political divisions to send the guilty back to suffer, the revolutionists urge Mark to expose Hellflix's dark secrets and unite Hell. He will be eternally damned with billions of others if they fail, but Mark is up for the risk if he can make the world better. He just doesn't know which way to go—bring happiness back to Heaven or save Hell from eternal torment, especially when he doubts that the wicked can truly be redeemed.
ASCENSION TO HELL is an adult contemporary fantasy at 114,000 words, a standalone book that has series potential. It will appeal to those who enjoyed mystery aspect of paranormal realms as in SIGN HERE by Claudia Lux, and modern-day take on the conflict between Heaven and Hell as in THE LIBRARY OF THE UNWRITTEN by A.J. Hackwith.
[BIO] I specifically wrote to you due to [insert reason here]. I am happy to make the full manuscript available upon request and eagerly await your response.
Warm regards,
[Insert name]
First 300
Long was the line. But I won’t add some typical adverbs here, like unbelievably and infinitely, to emphasize the point. Well, it might make our hardship sound like that of people waiting in line for a new iPhone, and I hate to give you that impression. In truth, the real pain of the line came more from not knowing where it would end than from its length. The Line of the Dead moved forward, twisting and turning like a giant snake. And I, one of the countless scales clinging to its sinister and hideous body, could only wait in vain, no matter how fast it moved or how far it went.
Why did I not think of breaking free and running away, then? Before I tell you this, I must tell you about the six of us who endured the long wait together.
First up goes Lewis.
I was behind the line before the hot Spanish sun, reflected off the chrome bumper of the truck that had hit me, faded from sight. We were standing in a wasteland where the vast, desolate plain offered nothing but peculiar rocks on the distant horizon. I looked behind me to find a multitude of people, their numbers growing, perhaps wearing the same bewildered faces as mine. I hadn’t taken a single step, yet these people had already placed me in line and made me an inseparable part of it.
Then I looked forward again and met the black eyes of a handsome young man who must have died right before me. The man, whose name I would later learn was Lewis, was confused, angry, frustrated, and most of all, in love. There was enough will in his blazing eyes to kill me again if I had thwarted a certain goal of his. Not finding what he was looking for behind him, the man ran straight ahead.
2024.06.02 07:45 ryni_abella Essential Tips for Maintaining Your Gaming Laptop
I've seen a lot of questions lately about how to keep our beloved gaming laptops in top shape. As we all know, these machines are not just a significant investment but also the core of our gaming experience. Here are some essential tips to help you maintain your gaming laptop and ensure it performs at its best for years to come.
submitted by ryni_abella to Laptop_PC_Help [link] [comments]
- Regular Cleaning
- Use a microfiber cloth to wipe down the exterior and screen regularly.
- Avoid using harsh chemicals; a small amount of water or screen cleaner is usually sufficient.
- Dust buildup can severely impact performance. Use compressed air to blow out dust from vents and fans every few months.
- If you're comfortable, open up the laptop to clean the internal components. Make sure to follow a guide specific to your laptop model.
- Proper Ventilation
- Always use your laptop on a hard, flat surface to ensure proper airflow.
- Consider investing in a cooling pad to help keep temperatures down during intense gaming sessions.
- Temperature Management
- Monitor your laptop’s temperature using software like HWMonitor or MSI Afterburner.
- Adjust your in-game settings to balance performance and temperature, especially if you notice overheating issues.
- Software Maintenance
- Keep your operating system and drivers up to date. This includes graphics drivers, which are crucial for gaming performance.
- Run regular antivirus and anti-malware scans to keep your system secure.
- Use disk cleanup tools to remove unnecessary files and keep your storage optimized
- Battery Care
- Avoid keeping your laptop plugged in all the time. It’s good to let the battery discharge and recharge periodically.
- If you’re gaming while plugged in, consider removing the battery if your model allows, to prevent unnecessary heat and wear on the battery.
- Safe Transport
- Use a padded laptop bag or case when transporting your laptop to protect it from physical damage.
- Be mindful of where you place your laptop in a backpack; avoid putting heavy items on top of it.
- Keyboard and Touchpad Care
- Clean your keyboard and touchpad regularly with a soft, slightly damp cloth.
- For sticky keys or deeper cleaning, consider using a keyboard cleaning gel or compressed air.
- Performance Optimization
- Regularly defragment your hard drive if you’re not using an SSD.
- Consider upgrading to an SSD if you haven't already; it can significantly improve load times and overall performance.
- Keep an eye on your laptop’s resource usage and close unnecessary background applications to free up CPU and RAM for gaming.
- Warranty and Repairs
- Keep track of your warranty and get repairs done by authorized service centers to avoid voiding it.
- Don’t hesitate to reach out to professional technicians for issues beyond your expertise.
2024.06.02 07:29 Electrical-Ad1820 Guide to Willo: Part 2- Talents
So it’s quite the well-known fact that of Willo’s talent: Blastflower, is Willo’s best talent, at least statistically it does well. I won’t say it’s not because it is just that much better than her other two talents. But there’s a huge “why?” to it. In general, the factors of why talents are good or bad when compared to one another come from three factors: Their actual upsides, their actual downsides, and how they make someone play.If anyone takes a look at most talents in the game you’ll notice that most don’t list a downside, the “downside” of taking Darkstalker is the fact he’s not using either of his other talents, that and my technicality certain cards don’t work the same as they would if they were on a chained Netherstep and so this example sucks and I didn’t want to change what I had written, but that’s not the point. All talents have this drawback- the fact they’re not other talents. Some talents in their upsides come up short of their peers. Sometimes they’re not even a problem and it’s that one talent overwhelms the others with its sheer power- I’m not saying Blastflower needs to be nerfed even if the bar graphs are showing that (though it should on principle), that’s not what I’m saying.
The final issue is the playstyle that is incentivized by both Nightshade and Scorn actively making them contrast with their intended and more effective playstyles, I should say that Nightshade is less egregious than Scorn thought it still has problems.
They yellow/gold represents a increase in a stat, The red represents a decrease the red spots represent a potential decrease. Top left is the default.
In conclusion, in the case of Nightshade, risks, by its incentivised damage amp rewarding using it for fighting targets rather than stopping healing, means it possibly loses out on the area denial, however, it still is capable of doing this job even if the reward of the talent may be lost, so the red isn’t a full stop, though the talent also risks not using the damage however, you will rarely not gain value from deadzone denying heal, and if you use it on a tank or a shield, that damage still exists so it won’t be losing out on its value since you still have use cases of Crowd Control, and Ensuring kills where you’d have used the ability in the same way regardless.
Tommorow I'll make a post about Willo's best and worst cards, and further elaborate on builds.
submitted by Electrical-Ad1820 to Paladins [link] [comments]
The final issue is the playstyle that is incentivized by both Nightshade and Scorn actively making them contrast with their intended and more effective playstyles, I should say that Nightshade is less egregious than Scorn thought it still has problems.
They yellow/gold represents a increase in a stat, The red represents a decrease the red spots represent a potential decrease. Top left is the default.
Nightshade
By increasing the damage Nightshade does you make it an easy-to-land damage tool, in the previous guide I mentioned that Nightshade doesn’t have falloff, and that makes it incredibly useful for helping new players land it, however, it also gives the impression that you should use deadzone for dueling, which you shouldn’t since you’re now no longer using it for Area Denial or Crowd Control, however, if you don’t use it to fight squishies and just use it as normal you end up risking the chance you effectively have a non-talent since unless you save it for only hitting targets you might end up never taking the shot at all, that mixed with Deadzones cooldown makes it incredibly hard to use effectively for a reward that’s more or less able to be caught up with via Blastflower, even with a specialized build for Nightshade, my best advice for when to use this (outside of never) is to use it on TDM where the lack of tanks and objective gives plenty of room to use this for deathmatching.A side note, Nightshade is considered ability damage which ignores AP and instead can only be stopped by flat DR or AW.In conclusion, in the case of Nightshade, risks, by its incentivised damage amp rewarding using it for fighting targets rather than stopping healing, means it possibly loses out on the area denial, however, it still is capable of doing this job even if the reward of the talent may be lost, so the red isn’t a full stop, though the talent also risks not using the damage however, you will rarely not gain value from deadzone denying heal, and if you use it on a tank or a shield, that damage still exists so it won’t be losing out on its value since you still have use cases of Crowd Control, and Ensuring kills where you’d have used the ability in the same way regardless.
Blastflower
Willo’s meta talent, and by a large margin as it gives Willo the means to duel enemies more easily (without using deadzone to do so) gives her more damage against health pools and generally has no real downsides. It’s to the point it’s more or less self-explanatory but I shall elaborate regardless. Blastflower as a Talent works regardless of whatever else you have going on, by the nature of it being attached to her primary attack with no special gimmicks beyond just hitting the same person multiple times, this and its ability to consistently get this stacking damage even with splash damage (though increasing 125 damage by 90% still doesn’t kill anyone any time soon so still aim at target) means you can easily ramp up damage and land the absolutely lethal 900 damage, while normally these guides won’t be used for balance discussion I will say that they should reduce the max stacks by 1, capping Willo’s damage to 800, to allow for duels, and some tank shredding while at the same time not doing 900 goddamn damage. Since I genuinely believe any attempts at balancing Nightshade in its current state are hopeless and giving her scorched earth (perhaps at a weaker value or without the cooldown reduction to not entirely gut point tanks with a single ability no matter how little uptime it has) it’s hard to advise people about Blastflower beyond just hit your shots.Scorn
Okay so while I personally never looked at Scorn beyond it being just a weirder weaker version of the already weak accelerant, it was Snake (the person who does my math for me and helped me make this guide via his time on Willo) who made me realize the problems with it. We’ll talk about the positives first, it’ll be quick.- It does over 3500 damage if all seedlings hit
- It’s easier to use aggressively
- They are considered ability damage like Nightshade so all the same benefits apply.
Tommorow I'll make a post about Willo's best and worst cards, and further elaborate on builds.
2024.06.02 07:08 DickBiggums69 I realized why the Pip Boys are all different versions, made by the same company, but look very different
This post likely won't get many up votes, and will die in new. I might check back in a week or two when I remember it
Anyways, I had looked at the wiki for Fallout 3's Pip Boy, and read that the dial was on the left side. That got me thinking, why would RobCo release a Pip Boy that's not ergonomic? Why it have different versions? It would be like it Apple sold the Iphone 4, Iphone X, and Iphone 15 or whatever we're on in different regions. INB4 Bethesda / Black Island didn't design them earlier, so Rob Co couldn't make them. I also haven't played 1, 2 so I'm going off the wiki. Lore wise, Vault Tec took decades to make the vaults. So Rob Co had time to keep developing them, if the war ended they'd get sold as a product (The House really does always win, I guess. Vault Tec would have made useless bunkers for a war that didnt happen with experiments that were evil, and Rob Co would have a wearable computer that's a terminal you wear) But the main vaults of the games would have influenced the design and usage of every Pip Boy Rob Co gives you. For my explanations, I'll refer to the experiments as "pranks" because it's funny
Fallout 1, 2, 76: The Pip Boy 2000 being the big bulky early version Rob Co wouldn't want to sell to the public. Vault Teks pranks were broken water chip for Fallout 1, Start in the village for Fallout 2, and Fallout 76 opens early. I think Fallout 1's vault wasn't intended to be opened, but they wouldn't bother to upgrade their devices across a hundred vaults. For 76, if you're going to open it early, why bother to give them a recent version. Eventually they had Radios, Geiger Counters, Tape Decks, all kinds of stuff surface dwellers need. The life data sensors wouldn't needed for if the vault gets opened, because how do you even collect that data then
Fallout 3, New Vegas: The Pip Boy is less bulky, but has the dial on the left side. Considering your right hand controls the dial, it blocks the screen. Most importantly, the Biometric lock. For whatever reason, 10 year olds get them. They wouldn't be fully grown, so their arm size wouldn't make that work long term. There must be some way to open it, like Doctor Mitchell did to switch out the foam, rubber inserts or whatever is in there. But, Vault 101 was never intended to be opened. Vault Tec would want them to have them on as often as possible, in order to gather data. To make then inconvenient to discourage constant usage, they move the dial. That keeps people doing whatever you do in a vault instead of messing around on their wrist mounted computers
Fallout 4, and TV Show: They both use the same model 3000, but one has a paint job. However, Vault 111 only had a single one. Since that vaults purpose was to freeze people, they didn't need everyone. Since Vault Tecs prank for that vault was freezing people, and then locking like 8 in there without much food or water, the Pipboy was only in there for the scientist to close the door. Even the overseer didn't get a Pip Boy. That brings up something I forgot to mention. Admin vs Regular versions. The scientists Pip Boy would be a version with fully unlocked capabilities, for opening doors and such. Vault Tec would hate for any vault dweller to be able to just open the door and kill everyone from radiation. For other vaults, maybe it's the areas that Vault Tec decides what version that would best suit the experiments? Obviously its beceause Bethesda wants to make only one Pip Boy model instead of making multiple for random people. In the show, everyone has a silver metal looking Pip Boy. If I had to guess, that's probably next to final version Rob Co would have designed. At that point, they'd have perfected something they could sell to the public. Once the swapped out the Geiger counter for, a flash light or something. The average Vault dweller could play Holotapes, check the radio, stuff like that. Certain ones would be equipped with the door key,and they would have a secret stash of admin Pip boys somewhere (Please don't spoil it for anyone who hasn't seen the show)
Fallout 5: Bethesda seemingly has perfected the Pip Boy. Aside from a flash light, I can't think of much else they'll need. Walkie Talkie Voice Chat maybe? Well, a key board would probably be something Rob Co should add if it's going to be a computer instead of a highly advanced heart beat monitor. I read a good idea somewhere, a traveling salesman who sells you different versions from the games that work as the player menu. But that would mean he had been traveling across the entire country, and has a way to keep finding Pip Boys
Edit: I realized what Rob Co could swap out. Since it wouldn't always be needed, that white plug thing on the back. Or maybe that plugs into a keyboard while you just remember the words you typed. Or it could flip the screen sideways to make it easier to read.
Edit 2: Vault Tec did have a stand for it in Vault 76. A real company made a replica of it for the replica Pip Boy from 76. Aside from the small screen, that would be a great product for use on a desk like a computer
Final Edit: With how you can use the Pipboy in Power Armor, maybe West Tec decided they needed something to diagnose frames more efficiently and installed an interface port on the left arm. Conveniently for the player, it has a screen on the frame that somehow works as a Pip Boy monitor. For 3 and New Vegas, maybe its just a different Pip Boy version that makes you need the Pip Boy glove to be exposed
submitted by DickBiggums69 to Fallout [link] [comments]
Anyways, I had looked at the wiki for Fallout 3's Pip Boy, and read that the dial was on the left side. That got me thinking, why would RobCo release a Pip Boy that's not ergonomic? Why it have different versions? It would be like it Apple sold the Iphone 4, Iphone X, and Iphone 15 or whatever we're on in different regions. INB4 Bethesda / Black Island didn't design them earlier, so Rob Co couldn't make them. I also haven't played 1, 2 so I'm going off the wiki. Lore wise, Vault Tec took decades to make the vaults. So Rob Co had time to keep developing them, if the war ended they'd get sold as a product (The House really does always win, I guess. Vault Tec would have made useless bunkers for a war that didnt happen with experiments that were evil, and Rob Co would have a wearable computer that's a terminal you wear) But the main vaults of the games would have influenced the design and usage of every Pip Boy Rob Co gives you. For my explanations, I'll refer to the experiments as "pranks" because it's funny
Fallout 1, 2, 76: The Pip Boy 2000 being the big bulky early version Rob Co wouldn't want to sell to the public. Vault Teks pranks were broken water chip for Fallout 1, Start in the village for Fallout 2, and Fallout 76 opens early. I think Fallout 1's vault wasn't intended to be opened, but they wouldn't bother to upgrade their devices across a hundred vaults. For 76, if you're going to open it early, why bother to give them a recent version. Eventually they had Radios, Geiger Counters, Tape Decks, all kinds of stuff surface dwellers need. The life data sensors wouldn't needed for if the vault gets opened, because how do you even collect that data then
Fallout 3, New Vegas: The Pip Boy is less bulky, but has the dial on the left side. Considering your right hand controls the dial, it blocks the screen. Most importantly, the Biometric lock. For whatever reason, 10 year olds get them. They wouldn't be fully grown, so their arm size wouldn't make that work long term. There must be some way to open it, like Doctor Mitchell did to switch out the foam, rubber inserts or whatever is in there. But, Vault 101 was never intended to be opened. Vault Tec would want them to have them on as often as possible, in order to gather data. To make then inconvenient to discourage constant usage, they move the dial. That keeps people doing whatever you do in a vault instead of messing around on their wrist mounted computers
Fallout 4, and TV Show: They both use the same model 3000, but one has a paint job. However, Vault 111 only had a single one. Since that vaults purpose was to freeze people, they didn't need everyone. Since Vault Tecs prank for that vault was freezing people, and then locking like 8 in there without much food or water, the Pipboy was only in there for the scientist to close the door. Even the overseer didn't get a Pip Boy. That brings up something I forgot to mention. Admin vs Regular versions. The scientists Pip Boy would be a version with fully unlocked capabilities, for opening doors and such. Vault Tec would hate for any vault dweller to be able to just open the door and kill everyone from radiation. For other vaults, maybe it's the areas that Vault Tec decides what version that would best suit the experiments? Obviously its beceause Bethesda wants to make only one Pip Boy model instead of making multiple for random people. In the show, everyone has a silver metal looking Pip Boy. If I had to guess, that's probably next to final version Rob Co would have designed. At that point, they'd have perfected something they could sell to the public. Once the swapped out the Geiger counter for, a flash light or something. The average Vault dweller could play Holotapes, check the radio, stuff like that. Certain ones would be equipped with the door key,and they would have a secret stash of admin Pip boys somewhere (Please don't spoil it for anyone who hasn't seen the show)
Fallout 5: Bethesda seemingly has perfected the Pip Boy. Aside from a flash light, I can't think of much else they'll need. Walkie Talkie Voice Chat maybe? Well, a key board would probably be something Rob Co should add if it's going to be a computer instead of a highly advanced heart beat monitor. I read a good idea somewhere, a traveling salesman who sells you different versions from the games that work as the player menu. But that would mean he had been traveling across the entire country, and has a way to keep finding Pip Boys
Edit: I realized what Rob Co could swap out. Since it wouldn't always be needed, that white plug thing on the back. Or maybe that plugs into a keyboard while you just remember the words you typed. Or it could flip the screen sideways to make it easier to read.
Edit 2: Vault Tec did have a stand for it in Vault 76. A real company made a replica of it for the replica Pip Boy from 76. Aside from the small screen, that would be a great product for use on a desk like a computer
Final Edit: With how you can use the Pipboy in Power Armor, maybe West Tec decided they needed something to diagnose frames more efficiently and installed an interface port on the left arm. Conveniently for the player, it has a screen on the frame that somehow works as a Pip Boy monitor. For 3 and New Vegas, maybe its just a different Pip Boy version that makes you need the Pip Boy glove to be exposed