(M19) Tomorrow, I will do my maturita exam. And after that, I dont have any goals because they fell apart last month.
When I was 14, I met a girl in an archery club and I fell in love with her. We started dating but after ten days we broke up. She said she had felt too young for a relationship and I understood it. But she completely cut me off and later I found out that she pretended it so she wouldnt harm me. It was devastating for me and I was feeling depressed for like two years. Because I was encountering her quite frequently and just couldnt get over it. Since that moment, I became extremely introverted, had troubles with trusting people but mostly didnt have any self esteem.
Two years ago, an Ukrainian girl came to uor class (Czechia), she fled from the war. And she was the most beautiful person Ive ever seen. And I couldnt encounter her, I just couldnt because of the past. I became attached to her, I heavily idealized her. She was two months in our class. I had too many negative thoughts, how we wouldnt match, even though I didnt know her. Then Holidays came and I finally decided to encounter her the next school year. But she left to Prague, its on the opposite side of our country.
And since that moment, it was my greatest wish and goal to meet her again. And when I realized that there is a university I wanted to go, my plans began to form. And last summer I wrote her a poem that I would like to meet her. And to my greatest surprise, she agreed. And so I visited her and.. she was better than all my dreams. She was like me. Since that moment, Ive had the happiest part of my life. I visited her on Christmas and it was the best Christmas Ive ever had. I bought her a book and we enjoyed the day. She was visibly happy and I was so happy that we matched together so well.
She was my main motivation to everything, I dedicated my whole future to her. I sent only one application to university. I imagined how we will be together. She was the first girl I started to trust, I overcame all my negative thoughts. I became positive person so much that I convinced myself that she likes me and we will end up together. And in the moment when she sent me her photo sealed it all.
At the start of the last month, she told me that she has a boyfriend. It more than a month and a half and I just cant.. do anything. My greatest wish, my only goal broke. And now I will have to go to study to Prague because its my only choice. It will be painful, everything will remind her.. I wrote dozens of poems about her. I was so happy that it started to fit so nicely together and now.. I dont have anything. And I dont want anyone else, I dont want to be happy without her, I just lost an angel.
I explained everything to her and she understood, she let my to send her all my poems. She was the first one who didnt block me in this situation. She is the kindest person on the Earth. I wrote and sent her a new collection of poems afterwards and it ended there.
I am goind to do my maturita exams, Im one of the smartest students in my school, Im going to study nuclear physics and yet, I hate myself fot being so successful in my school life but I never wanted this. All I want is just love, I dont care if I will have a poor job, or if I will have children, or an expensive house or car, I only want someone who would love me. And all of that I saw in this one girl. And its gone. All my dreams..
My family tried to help me as much as they could.. but they dont know how to help me. I started visiting a psychologist and I take antidepressants. But nothing of it will bring me her back, nothing of it will bring me back the meaning of life, my goals, wishes, dreams.
I dont want to put up with it. I feel like life showed me the best of it and than took it from me. I feel like I wouldnt be ever satisfied with it, like from all the paths that I couldve taken, this one will forever hurt me.
And so, tommorow, my life will just end. And I dont know what to do.
I just so much regret not encountering her while she was in our class. I cant read my poems anymore because its so painful to me.
I worry that I wont be ever able to create such a strong bond to anyone else. Such a strong longig, a desire.

I think its common knowledge in these circles that the first draft of TPM from 1994 (originally called The Beginning) is much better. Still very flawed, but a good baseline for a better movie.
For some reason, Lucas added many things in the final draft that made the movie a lot worse. It's fascinated me for a while now about how things could have been if the original script was built upon.
I have been watching videos summing up the original draft for a while now and I discovered something. Apparently Lucas gave his final TPM draft to Lawrence Kasdan a week before shooting started and asked for him to take a look at it. However, Kasdan refused because he though he wouldn't have enough time to make revisions.
I want to imagine how TPM would look if Kasdan or some other hypothetical collaborator got to see the first draft in 1994 and fixed it up. This isn't my preferred PT rewrite. This is just what I would have done if Lucas had dropped his first draft in my lap and told me to revise it.
Here are the videos I got the information from:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TPHUWM3QNk0
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OqsD8s2W9Ho
The movie starts with an opening crawl talking about how it is a time of weakness in the Republic. The Outer Rim controlled by megacorporation's has seceded backed by droid armies. War has not broken out yet, but the galaxy is on the brink. They are now blockading the peaceful planet of Utapau to gain its rich plasma mines as well as its newly discovered Cloning formula. The Supreme Chancellor Valorum has dispatched two Jedi to investigate and/or negotiate if they can.
We then cut to a republic starship coming to land just like in the finished film. Only the Jedi are wearing samurai esqe uniforms (like the concept art), one black and one white. The black uniformed Jedi is Obi Wan Kenobi who is about 30, trained by Yoda and is already a full Jedi Knight. Very strict and by the book. The white uniformed Jedi is his brother Ben Kenobi who just became a full jedi. This is Ben's first mission without his master Oui Gon.
Ben Kenobi is very reckless and wonders why the Republic doesn't just declare war on the Confederacy already. Obi Wan argues with him while they wait in the conference room. Meanwhile Nute Gunray and the rest of the Nemoidians look more like how they do in early concept art. Much less humanoid and they speak in an alien language with subtitles.
They call Palpatine on the hologram and he is enraged that they let the Jedi land. He chokes Nute Gunray through the hologram, cowing him. They agree to kill the Jedi and things go similarly as in the finished movie. The ship is blown up, and poison gas is pumped into the conference room. Ben and Obi Wan cut their way through the battle droids and get to the hanger. They decide to stow away on the landing craft.
On the surface of Utapau they run into Jar Jar. In this version though, Jar Jar while emotional and still comic relief speaks in a normal voice and is a bit more mature. He's more of the everyman character. Ben persuades Jar Jar to take them to the Gungan city with a mind trick, this is something Obi Wan disapproves of. Ben is more unorthodox.
They get there and are captured just like the real film. The only difference is that all the Gungans have regular voices. They are taken to Governor Nass and we learn that Jar Jar was banished because he was a trouble maker who argued for more cooperation between the Gungans and Humans. As he rants, fish continuously fall through the bubble and a young gungan gathers them up and puts them outside again.
The two Jedi still convince him to call the humans and the whole bubble is engulfed in static. It is clear that communications have been cut off. The two Jedi are then given a submarine and told to try to navigate the planet core. Nobody has been able to do it in generations and it is clear Nass thinks its a suicide mission, a convenient way to get rid of three nuisances. They then travel through the planet core being attacked by various creatures while Jar Jar is kept calm through mind tricks.
We then cut to the city of Oxon (what later became Theed) where Queen Amidala who is 40 and her daughter Princess Padme around 14 are being briefed by captain Panaka and Sio Bibble. The Queen is complacent while Padme thinks they should take the fight to the Confederacy. Suddenly the droid army attacks the city and we see building being blown up and city guards killed.
The Queen, Padme, Panaka and all the other dignitaries are captured. Nute and the rest of the Nemodians show up as well to gloat like in the final movie and give some more exposition about how they want Utapaus cloning formula. We then see the Gungan submarine surfacing and the Jedi and Jar Jar sneak into the city.
They find the prisoners being walked down an alley and save them like in the real movie. Ben uses some flashy moves to finish the droids off and is almost killed by another droid while his back is turned. Obi Wan cuts the droid down and admonishes Ben for his recklessness. The Queen and co are pleased to see two Jedi knights but they are very hostile towards Jar Jar. Which the Jedi are displeased over.
They run to the hanger like the finished film and free the Pilots, however a stray blaster shot kills the Queen with Padme screaming in horror as they board the ship. The humans also try to prevent Jar Jar getting on board but the two Jedi insist upon it.
The ship gets attacked by the blockade and Naboo guards man gun positions while astromech droids finish the repair. After they get into hyperspace there is only one droid left. R2D2 who is thanked by a still in grieving Padme. She goes off down into the droid bay to be alone and runs into Jar Jar who consoles her. This starts Padmes turn towards liking the Gungans instead of being bigoted towards them.
Meanwhile Ben and Obi Wan look through the planets accessible through their damaged hyperdrive and only find one inhabited world. Tatooine, which most of the royal guards/pilots are horrified about. Still they have no choice so they land. Padme goes with the Jedi despite protests. She wants to see another planet and get some fresh air after what just happened. Panaka lets her go reluctantly because she has two Jedi to guard her. Jar Jar also goes with them because the Utapau humans say he's "stinking the ship up".
We then cut to Utapau again where Nute Gunray and the Nemoidians are talking to captured scientists about their cloning program. They look at something in a cloning tank and look impressed. Then a hologram droid walks in projecting Darth Sidious. He castigates them for their failure in letting the princess get away and they grovel before him again. Darth Sidious says its no matter, as he will send his apprentice, Darth Maul. The Sith warrior himself looks even scarier than in the film we got with him looking like the concept art, he also has blood red robes.
We cut to a balcony on Coruscant where master and apprentice talk. Maul speaks more than in TPM and says how eager he is to get revenge on the jedi, they are no match for me yada yada.
Back on Tatooine in Mos Espa we see our heroes trying to get the part they need. It is a rowdy place and a leering slimy alien (Sebulba but we don't know that yet) tries to touch Padme arm but she elbows him and after that the crowd gives them a wide berth. Obi Wan and Ben sense something, an overpowering aura of the force. They follow it and find themselves in front of Wattos junk shop.
They meet Anakin who is 14 the same age as Padme. He is mature for his age and has a bit of a chip on his shoulder from being a slave. We also meet Watto but he resists the mind tricks because of his strong will, not because of his species. Things go similarly, though the dialogue would be much better, no "are you an angel" in this version. Jar Jar still clumsily breaks a few things but it is more toned down. Watto also hits Anakin and tells him to get back to work. Ben grabs Wattos arms as he is about to hit him again while Obi Wan helps him to his feet.
The heroes get nowhere with Watto especially after stopping Wattos abuse and a sandstorm starts to blow in so Anakin offers to take them to his place. We meet Anakin's adopted mother Shmi Lars and her son Owen Lars who is older (19) and very protective of his little brother. At the dinner scene we learn about Anakin's Podracing (how he's nicknamed Skywalker) and how many people gamble on it for huge sums of money. Ben gets an Idea while we also see just how rare Jedi actually are in most of the galaxy with Owen calling them wizards.
We then see Anakin working on his Pod while talking to Padme. They both share their own struggle going up. Padme says she's never met anyone like Anakin while Anakin says he's never met anyone like her either. He then kisses her on the cheek while Jar Jar (who was watching out of boredom) jumps in surprise. Meanwhile we see the Jedi helping Shmi and Owen with the dishes.
The topic of Anakin's father comes up. We learn that Shmi's sister left Tatooine when she was young in search of adventure. Years later she came back and gave Shmi baby Anakin begging her to take care of him before leaving. She had a lightsaber on her belt same as the two Jedi now. She also tell them how Anakin is special and can see things before they happen, just like her sister.
Ben says Anakin needs to be trained as a Jedi while Obi Wan resists the idea saying he's too old. He's all about giving the family their freedom but not taking along Anakin. Owen is Obi Wans side, saying Anakin's head is already off in the clouds as it is. Being a Jedi won't help him, he needs to be grounded and down to earth. His idealism is going to get him killed. Shmi isn't sure which side to take in the argument and defers judgement until after Anakin hopefully wins the podrace tomorrow.
Ben goes out and talks to Anakin and tells him about the Jedi and the Sith. We get a whole spiel about how strong Anakin is and how he would be a great asset to the order. Meanwhile, Darth Mauls ship lands on Tatooine at dusk and he sets out different probes to find the Jedi and the Princess. He smiles evilly to himself, showing rotting teeth.
The pod racing stuff is basically the same, only Padme is outraged when Sebulba threatens Anakin and Ben/Obi Wan manage to get the freedom of Owen and Shmi as well by trickery (not sure how). There is no two headed announcer and no Jabba cameo either. At the end, in desperation, Anakin uses his force powers to crash Sebulbas pod killing him. Nobody notices that Anakin used the force except the two jedi who look on in concern
While everyone else gathers around Anakin's pod to celebrate Ben and Obi Wan have a heated argument in the shadows of the bleachers. Obi Wan takes this as a reason why Anakin shouldn't be trained while Ben thinks that it would be better to teach Anakin before he falls down the path of evil. Eventually they agree to let Anakin decide, Obi Wan saying he'll probably want to stay with his family.
However Anakin decides to go. His mother respects his decision and is proud of him while Owen is furious, but accepts the decision as well but telling Anakin that one day he'll regret his choice and when he does he's always welcome to come live with them again. The family hugs while everyone else just kind stands around.
They walk back through the desert when they encounter a probe droid. Obi Wan slashes it with his lightsaber and tells everyone to run. Everyone runs inside while Maul approaches in his speeder bike. The fight goes differently as it is a two one one fight. They all exhibit powers never seen in the original trilogy like levitating objects swirling around them, going super fact, and slow motion. Basically a Matrix fight with lightsabers before they both jump onto the ship.
The scenes as they travel to Coruscant are similar. Anakin and Padme miss their parents etc. They then arrive at Coruscant and it is basically like the finished movie in design. They land and meet Chancellor Valorem, Senator Palpatine, and Qui Gon Jinn. Qui Gon hugs Ben like a son while Palpatine talks to Padme. Padme then talks to Jar Jar about how she doesn't understand the rift between the Gungans and the Humans. We then learn that the Gungans have a large army. Padme has an idea and decides to go back to Utapau.
The senate scenes are cut down dramatically. Its more of a montage showing Padme's increasing frustration before she finally calls for a vote of no confidence while Palpatine smiles sinisterly. The Jedi Council meanwhile consists of three members. Qui Gon who is a very unorthodox Jedi mindful of the living force (wanting the jedi to go and help the common people more), Mace Windu a bastion of militaristic conservatism (wanting the Jedi to take their rightful place as generals/leaders, and Yoda who wants to stay the course on isolationism and study of the force.
We don't see the Jedi trials, Anakin just talks about them to Ben, Obi Wan and Qui Gon. He says he didn't understand them, and Qui Gon who has taken a liking to this upstart kid says he wasn't supposed to. They are all called in and Mace says Anakin shall not be trained. He is too old and there is much anger in him. Anakin is heartbroken while Obi Wan nods grimly in acceptance. Ben Kenobi however is not having it. He says he shall train Anakin with or without the councils permission. Mace denounces this as Heresy while Qui Gon smiles. Yoda sighs and says the matter will be decided after this current crisis has ended.
Ben, Obi Wan, and Qui Gon all decide to go with Padme, but Anakin is told to stay behind. There is also the discussion about how Anakin is dangerous which Anakin overhears. Being told by Ben and Qui Gon that he's not a problem and how he will be a Jedi. Anakin gets an idea and sneaks aboard the ship with the help of R2. He is quickly discovered to Obi Wans rage and Bens laughter.
They get back to Utapau and have to go through the blockade. Anakin is able to hyperspace jump between the ships and the planet with motivation from Ben. Our heroes then try to find the Gungans at their city but it has been completely blown up. We actually see this though, as well as Jar Jars sorrow before he remembers the Gungans sacred place.
They go there and like the movie Padme makes a big speech about overcoming difference, with Jar Jar intelligently backing her up. We then get ready for the battle. Anakin tinkers with a disabled battle droid and finds out there is a second droid control hidden somewhere in the palace. So the plan is set. The Gungans will distract the droids, while the humans will infiltrate the palace, one team disabling the backup control systems and the others capturing Nute or stealing starfighters that will be used to take out the droid control ship.
The plan goes into action and things are kind of similar to the finished film, though Jar Jar shows intentional heroism instead of the goofy antics in TPM. When the starfighters are launched though, Padme goes into the fighter with Anakin. Him being the pilot and Padme being the gunner. The rest of the human teams make short work of the battle droids. However when they reach Nute a surprise is awaiting them, clones.
These clones look kind of like Dark Troopers and a Super Battle droid had a kid. They decimate the Utapau soldiers while Nute flees. Meanwhile with the Jedis they disable the secondary control system but are then met with Darth Maul. It is a brutal and awe inspiring fight. 3v1 and yet Maul still comes out on top. He knocks out Qui Gon who falls of the bridge (the duel setting is the same) while taunting the other two. "This is the end of the jedi" you get the drill.
The remaining soldiers manage to kill the clones but there are not enough left to fend of the droids. They are captured same as the Gungans. Ben gets riled up, makes a mistake and is killed. Obi Wan screams and charges getting knocked into the pit, hanging on by a thread. Meanwhile Anakin and Padme manage to destroy the flagship at the same time that Obi Wan takes Ben's lightsaber and cuts Maul in half. He then says "learn not live not as my master says" and then rushes to Bens side.
Ben begs him to train Anakin and he agrees. Meanwhile the humans and Gungans are celebrating. We cut to Qui Gon and Queen Amidala's funeral. Qui Gon throws away his lightsaber and walks off. He is done with the jedi after the death of what was effectively his son. Palpatine looks at him go intrigued. Meanwhile Yoda and Obi Wan argue over Anakin's training. Obi Wan says he will train him even without the will of the council like Ben said. Yoda gives in but warns Obi Wan of his arrogance.
We then get the celebration the end.

Gaz had crawled high into the apple tree and was pulling fruit down, lobbing it into the net his sister Tibble was holding out with her four hands. He hooted as he saw Jonathan walking through the rows.
Tibble turned, her blue fluff ruffling. "Human Jonathan! We have gathered many of the apples!"
Jonathan smiled as he approached, noting the large pile stacked on the ground. "Tibble, you have to put them in the baskets. Contact with the dirt will cause them to rot." He laughed. "I've told you this."
She shook her head. "Pyramid shape best. I like this." She pointed at the pile. "This is best way. You said you would make more cider. We like the cider. You will make it for me."
He knelt down and picked up an apple, taking a bite. Juice oozed out around his lips as his teeth pierced the skin of the fruit. He chewed for a moment while looking up at Gaz. "Yes. I said I would. Get these in the baskets and I'll carry them back."
She growled at him. "Piles are best." Tibble then began moving the top of the pile into the basket.
Jonathan sat under the tree as she filled the first basket, finishing off his third apple. She stacked it as high as she could before they started rolling off the top, and he got up. He lifted the basket and started carrying it toward the shed. "I'll be back for the next basket shortly."
He walked the half mile through the ruins of the city and stopped outside the door to the shed. He placed the basket down next to the apple masher and pulled the first apple up. He felt something ping on the back of his neck. Instinctively he scratched it, not remembering the sensation. He scratched a second time before he remembered what that particular vibration meant.
"Ares. Answer transmission."
The silicon based assistant accessed the relay and transmitted it to his subneurals.
An image of a man appeared in his ocular display. "Activation code Xeres Zulu three Kappa Alpha seven." The man said.
Jonathan tensed up and took a long breath before sighing. "Go ahead, admiral I'm guessing?"
"Admiral Alexander Oline, and you are Remnant Jonathan Kurzov?"
"I am."
"You are being activated."
Jonathan shook his head. "I'm retired."
"Retired?" The admiral asked. "You're done being human? I didn't know that was a thing."
"I'm retired from whatever you're wanting to ask me to do. Unless it's gardening, I don't give a shit about whatever you're doing."
Admiral Oline looked away for a moment and then back at Jonathan. "I have a report here describing in depth contact and conflict with an alien species, conducted by you. We received this information along with an application for a species of blue fuzzy creatures to be put under our species protection from a communications relay you and your assistant built. Am I wrong in this?"
Jonathan groaned. "No, you're right. I did a good deed."
Alexander nodded to himself as he looked over the report. "Yes, and now for your punishment." He smiled. "Prior to this, we thought all expansionist missions into your galaxy were extinct. The only traces we have left, before you, are the four sentience probes that were sent with your colonists. Do you still have access to those probes?"
Jonathan shook his head. "Haven't seen them in a few centuries. They left this system to continue scanning."
The admiral nodded. "Well, they have been continuing as programmed. They've been transmitting the entire time, and their data as mothballed during the last era, but now." He paused for a moment, his face growing stern. "A lot has changed since you left the Way. We, humanity, are on a similar path as yourself it seems."
"How so?" Jonathan asked.
"Humanity is making peace with our existence. We have gone back to our roots, trying to find peace in this darkness. Gardening, zen, familial ties, these are major values we have fostered, same as you and your adopted blue friends."
"Well, good for humans. Woo." Jonathan said. "Get to the point Oline. What do you want."
"Okay, I'll cut the curtsies. Those four probes from your expedition, their transmissions got bought up by a young entrepreneur. He went through them, refocused the probes to blue planet and found something. There's a species there, Isopodal, smart, but technologically savage. They're never going to reach beyond their atmosphere. They're planet locked, hell, probably never going to see electricity."
"Okay, so savages are causing a problem how?"
Oline sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment. "He watched them, then shared the feed with his friends, who shared the feed with their friends, and it became a phenomenon. These big bug, they're nice with extended families. They build their homes out of their shed carapaces. The longer they stay in a place, the bigger their homes get. Some are a hundred generations old, children walking through their halls touching the shells of ancestors long long gone. They scavenge, filter feed. The build tunnels to channel wastes from their small towns to the forests nearby, perfect balance with their ecosystem. They don't wage war, plan long term settlements with population quotas, living exactly as how the new human government envisions we should."
Jonathan nodded. "Sounds nice."
Oline sighed again. "It's a whole thing. We have a moon dedicated to making plushies of these things. People love them. The probes have been following specific towns for four decades now. Generations of people are involved in this ideology."
"And where do I fit in?"
"Your conflict with the Brin. Our Isopods biologically cleanse their environments of heavy metals. Their towns are built out of high demand, refined, high value materials. The Brin have since shifted their focus away from your blue fuzzy's and now are predating upon the Isopods."
"Fuck. Alright, I'll put a stop to them. You got coordinates for their homeworld?"
The admiral shook his head. "No, we're not into genocide anymore. We have to consider voters now. Your galaxy is being watched in detail now, with your little communication relay set up. We have to do this hands off, plausible deniability."
"For fuck's sake. Okay. How you wanna do this then?"
"Open source a Hadronic engine, give it to them. Basic freedom fighter protocols."
Jonathan nodded. "Understood."
Admiral Oline looked down at his templates and transmitted them. "Remnant Jonathan Kurzov, you are authorized to commence Project Pandora, classification Ultra Secret."
---===*===---
The father and eldest daughter and melted in the house of her forebears. She screeched through the walls, begging them to get out while she focused on the twins. She grabbed the two balls and tucked them into her filter pouches before running out the front door. She made it out to the beach as the heat intensified and the floating disk began sucking up their home. She stood in the water, her visual plate peaking out from the waves watching as she shivered with sadness. Her feeler appendages stroked the twins in her pouches as they fed from her filters, safe under the water. The beams finished melting down her home, pulling the slag up into the belly of the floating circle. She watched it float slowly away, disappearing down the beach.
She stood in the water, watching the smoldering hole that was her home far into the night. The stars were bright, and a dim glow came from beyond the horizons. She didn't dare leave her home, her ancestors. She kept shivering in grief, then she saw it.
A shadow contorted and a figure moved. Her vision, being as highly sensitive as it was, could barely make it out. She watched as it stood next to her ruins, her family home. A flash came from the thing.
"Fear not." It said as clearly as if it were her own blood.
She tiptoed out of the water, her weight coming back to her as she walked onto the beach. She shimmered back at the creature. "Spare us. Please."
It turned toward her, its face horrible and full of holes. Two orbs peered down at her, sending waves of fear through her shell. "A mother stands before me." It said, reflections appearing in front of it, cascading infrared to her. "I will do more than spare you."
Terror welled up in her and she fell down to the ground, but she resisted the urge to coil up and maintained her gaze upon the creature. "You are not them. You, you are different."
It walked closer to her, moving upon a mere two appendages. It lowered down next to her, extending a manipulator arm toward her. "Chance has sent a plague upon your peoples, one that you will not survive." It stared deep into her visor plate. "My people weep at that thought and offer you, Mother of three now two, a gift."
She could not help herself, and as if commanded without words, she extended two of her manipulator appendages up toward it. It opened up the ball at the end of its arm, five digits unfurling to reveal a black cube. It gently pushed the cube into her two pointed appendages.
"What is it?" She asked, shimmering.
The creature shimmered the air around it, speaking in ways she couldn't. "It is the gift we wish we did not have to give. It is horror, pain, and destruction. You know it in your organs, you feel it thinking about your mate, your daughter. Those that brought this feeling to you, will not stop until you give them this feeling back. This, this will allow you to do so, and I am sorry to have to give it to you."
She looked down at the cube in her points, feeling it as it vibrated across her limbs, reaching into her. Lines traced across her shell as she watched it grow on her. She looked back up toward the being as it crawled across her body but the shadow creature was gone.
A voice spoke to her, vibrations in her very core. "Hephaestus online. Greetings Mother."
She stood, her numerous feet appendages poking into the wet sand. "Where are you, being?" She shimmered with her shell.
"I am in you Mother, and am at your service." It replied within her minds.
"What has happened?" She asked, shivering with fear.
"You have been called upon to save your people."
She looked around before touching her own carapace. "How do I, how do we do that?"
"Where are the survivors?" It asked.
She thought for a moment, visions of the deep, visions of safety in the dark filled her minds.
"Go there. Help them."
She shivered again, defeat in the squish of body, her filters feeling the twins feeding at her sides.
"They will not stop, and more will suffer and die."
She turned her gaze back toward the horizon, seeing the glow of other homes melting in the far distance. "We can stop this?" She asked, now solely using her thoughts.
"I am but your tool. You can stop this." It replied.
---===*===---
She had not been to the vents since she picked her mate. They had fed there, filtering, hardening their shells together while discussing their future family. She could see the flickers of bioluminescence in the dark as she approached, her filters tasting the dense biofilm from the sea. She was close, and the flickers were from many peoples, many different families. She watched them talk, brothers, sisters, mothers, daughters, fathers, grandparents, all missing loved ones. Pain was the primary color, loss and heartache shared through the broken peoples.
She stepped into the outer ring, the heat of the vents warming her and her twins at her sides. Shimmers rose up to her asking who she had lost. She replied. "Mate and eldest daughter." But her reply wasn't heartache, but rather tinged with a new feeling and color. She replied with deep reds, a red tied to a thought from a people people beyond the stars, a red of blood and fire, things she knew nothing about.
The people's around her shifted in confusion at the colors. An elder great mother rose up to her. "You speak confusing daughter. What are you saying? Are you injured?"
She looked around, her visor meeting with dozens of others as they raised up to look at her. "The darkness came to me, spoke with me." She looked at the great mother. "The darkness touched me and has told me what we must do."
The elder mother walked over and touched manipulators with her. "Sit with us daughter, you need to rest. You have come far and need to heal."
"Our mates burn." The Mother of three now two said. "Our children, our families, our fathers burn. Things of light and pain come here and kill us. I will not heal these wounds. I bleed in my organs, pain beyond pain. I will not rest until they cease, until they feel my pain. They will feel this in their organs!" She flashed brighter than those around her thought possible. "I will stop them!"
A father stood up, pain shown in his colors. "They burn us. They are in the sky! How do we stop them? Do you know how? If you know anyway I will lend my spikes to yours. Please, tell us how! Anyone, tell us how." He shouted as bright as he could, lament touching his words.
The Mother of three now two walked over to him, placing her appendages upon his. Dots of blue light shifted from her carapace onto his. She looked into his visor plate and spoke with tinges of red. "The darkness has come and has promised us vengeance."
He flexed his carapace, breathing deep as he sucked in the sea. "What is this?" He asked, his own colors shifting toward the red.
"Our pain made flesh." She replied.
---===*==---
Brin operator Noloc was marking the next metal deposit while the syphons were busy pulling up the slag. It radioed over to buddy Lana. "You nearing full?"
Lana replied back. "Yeah. You want to get food while we empty?"
"Yeah, obviously." It replied. "Care to stimulate bodies while we eat?"
"Yeah obviously." Lana said. "Hey, are you getting any weird readings?"
"Like what?" Noloc asked.
Lana sent over telemetry. "Heat spikes in the water. What are those?"
Noloc looked them over and then scanned the water nearby. "Yeah, I got a dozen near me too. What are those?"
Noloc turned to look out the window just in time to see something leap onto the outer hull of its ship. "Um, one of the native creatures is on my miner."
Lana screamed through the radio.
Noloc shook at the noise and looked back out at the native. The creature was larger than normal, its color darker as well. Noloc watched as the thing curled, hunkering down on the hull. Deep scratching sounds echoed through the ship. "I am in need of assistance." It radioed up toward the mothership. "Assistance needed, native attack."
Telemetry came down. "Wait time for assistance five minutes. Ten minutes. Three hours." It read out, the time continuously increasing.
Noloc looked around. "What is happening! I need assistance!" Another thud on the hull and Noloc looked out to see another native boring into the ship. "Help!"
---===*===---
The Mother walked over to the downed ship and watched as the warriors cut apart the pilot. Hephaestus highlighted the mining beam as she walked across the machinery. She pointed with one of her manipulators. "There Father. We need that piece." She shimmered.
One of the fathers walked over and cut it free with his new sharps. "What is it Mother?"
"It is a tool of light and fire."
He shook, remembering his family burning.
"Remember that pain Father. They will feel it as they burn."
He paused and looked at her. "We will be as they are then. Burners, bringers of pain. That is not who we are."
She felt at the empty filters at her side. "My twins are in the deep with the mothers. That is not who they are, but that is who we must be so they can stay that way."
The Father shimmered back in tones of red. "They will be as we were before."
She flashed understanding. "We will suffer, become the monsters so they won't have to."
He replied understanding.
--===*===---
Three galaxies away, sitting in their living rooms across numerous worlds, humanity watched on. The four probes, hidden in their cloak fields, displayed in completed holographic representations, the forgotten horrors of war. Beams of fire and light rose up from the depths of the seas, melting Brin ships out of the sky. Day after day, the Isopods did what they did, scavenged. More fallen tech fed them, and within three months they had risen out of their gravity well, taking the fight into orbit.
A year later and several scavenged stations and the Isopods had opened up communications, seeking the others hiding in the shadows.
A world of blue fuzzy creatures were quick to respond, welcoming the filter feeders to the galactic community.
The Mother of Three now two was aboard the ship crossing the darkness as the first gathering commenced.

F20, I've seen doctors over this in 2 countries and unfortunately always had a negative experience to the point that I avoid going altogether from pure terror.
It first started in 2017, I got a headache one day that resulted in one of the worst weeks of my life. My head hurt like someone was squeezing it together, everything was spinning, I physically couldn't stand looking at a screen or book, and had nausea that prevented me from eating much. This went on for a full week, I only took paracetamol and the doctors couldn't tell me what was wrong despite doing some tests. I had to take the full week off from school and laid in bed all day long. After a week the dizziness and nausea were gone and the headache calmed down a lot, but I still felt fragile and eventually it disappeared and I moved on in life except for one concerning part, ever since that week, I can no longer lay on the back of my head for long because it hurts. I have genuinely not spent more than 5 minutes at once laying with my head on the pillow, I also cant rest it against a wall or airplane seat, etc because it hurts. Been a side sleeper since.
Since then, I've had the migraine return about 3 times, but not with as much nausea and barely any dizziness as the first time. The last time was different because I had intense upper back pain, neck pain and a headache, it lasted for a full month. This was in August 2022. My head and neck are generally fine except for some light pressure in my head every now and then when I sleep bad, but my upper back hurts. Not enough to keep me from carrying out my daily tasks, but it hurts when I lean against my bed for too long or I put all my weight against a chair, car seat, plane, etc. I did see a doctor for it but she told me that it's because I'm underweight (168cm, 48kg) and don't have enough fat on my back to protect my bones, but I've always been underweight, weighing even less in the past and never had an issue resting my back against something until I got the pain in that August.
I'm quite literally shaking typing this out because I'm honestly terrified of doctors and hospitals in general and I'm scared of being told I have cancer or some kind of injury that will make me lose the ability to walk or something, but I discovered this sub and hoped maybe someone was kind enough to explain what is going on and how I can stop it. I cant tell if this is enough information but if you have additional questions about the symptoms or anything I'd be happy to answer them.

I'm not that great at this, only been rolling for about 6-8 months, but I've been a traveling hairgel salesman, so I've trained at several different gyms. My main hobby? Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu as primarily a guard player. I'm a fairly small guy (160 lbs) in the BJJ scene, so I've gotta make up for it with some serious framing ability.
Anyway, I've had a bit of “success.” Everywhere I go, I'm pretty much outframing belts above mine, and I've snagged the top spots in the two tournaments I've entered at white belt. And I've kinda concluded most of you guys just can't frame hard enough.
"Can't pass this guy's guard,"
"Can't get around his frames,"
"Your guard retention is super good for your belt, I can never push your legs aside,"
"Did you play football?"
"You feel like a lineman,"
"You're deceptively immovable."
I swear I hear stuff like this every time I hit a new mat, and if I show up at a new gym, people think I’m seasoned. Here’s what actually happens in certain situations:
I’m in trouble and you’re trying to pass - I frame against your shoulder and press, press as hard as I can.
I’m in trouble and you’re on my side - I frame against your hip and extend as far as I can.
We are standing - I establish a frame against your incoming arms and push away as hard as I can.
I am on the bottom - I frame against your advance and push with all my might.
I am getting passed - I create a frame on your neck and push back as strong as I can.
So this formula just keeps working over and over, and I get curious and it turns out that hardly anybody at these gyms can maintain a solid, extended frame for more than a minute. This includes some of the "more seasoned" black and brown belts who routinely school me. Nobody can hold a strong frame under pressure, and most people can't even maintain a base without getting pushed over after a while.
I dunno, maybe I’m missing something, but this just seems like a no-brainer to me. Y'all keep doing your running and kettlebell swings and stuff but it seems to me this is a sport where you push really frickin' hard all the time, and when I look at recommended exercises and stuff, you guys don’t really train pushing that much.
Anyway, I frickin' suck but y'all kinda push weak, and that makes me look like I don’t suck that much.

Hi. 32F non smoker. For the past several months, the left side of my chest under my breast has been hurting every time I sneeze. Lately the pain has gotten a lot worse and it’s achy for awhile after the sneeze. I’m starting to get concerned. Is this something that can wait for a regular doctor’s appointment or should I go to urgent care?

TW: self harm
I know this seems dumb. I know I seem immature. I know it's probably my fault. But here we go anyway, because I have everything to lose and this 'everything' is my grades.
To my teachers, specifically a few of you:
How dare you demand a perfect score from me? How could you compare others to me? How dare you, with that innocent stupidity of yours, say to my face that my ELA award and my straight A's came at no cost at all? Do you know how many times I'm cried or screamed inside because I missed an assignment or got below an A? Do you know what it feels like to get anything below excellent, to have that feeling of "you're supposed to be the smart kid, you dumbass"? Have you seen the way people stare at me with jealousy while you compliment me in front of everyone? Have you heard my friends telling me to stop calling myself dumb because if I'm dumb, then what are they?
Do you know why I hold my arm in a weird position or walk with my right shoulder higher than my left? Do you know what it feels like to have open wounds that aren't deep enough to be satisfying but not shallow enough to be painless, because you were an idiot last night and cut yourself with sewing scissors? Do you know what it feels like to not be able to sit or move without being in pain, because you made the mistake of cutting on your upper body near your stomach?
The answer is no, isn't it?
Exactly.
Then stop calling me the smart, intelligent, imaginative, excellent student. Stop making others look up to me. If they were to see the scars beneath my sleeves or find me silently crying at night then they wouldn't want to be me either. Tell these things to me classmates and ask them, "who would want to be me?" I am not a "pleasure to teach", I'm an anxious, perfectionistic, sleep deprived, overthinking procrastinator who won't accept anything less than perfect and if my average grade drops below an A I want to jump off a bridge.
Tomorrow, I have my Algebra End of Course exam. The SHEER AMOUNT OF NEW THINGS I'M DISCOVERING BEFORE THE DAY OF THE TEST is absolutely HORRENDOUS. What is are marginal and joint frequencies??? How do you remember transformations??? How do you write an expression equivalent to 2.3 to the power of 2t-1???? We never went over this! If we did, then maybe I'm the dumbass, I don't know! And you STILL WANT A PERFECT SCORE FROM ME?! I heard what you said to my friend when she got an 83 on a formative. What will you do to me if I get anything below a Level 5? You've only ever celebrated my success, but you've never seen how I am when I fail, do you?
So look at me and tell me you want a perfect score from me. Tell me you're confident in me, tell me you'll know I'll do great, tell me you'll be disappointed if I get anything less than that sweet sweet Level 5. Because as much as I hate myself, despite all you've done for me, I hate you too. And if you tell me to get a perfect score, I'll score anything but that.

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

Erik listened as Morna’s footsteps gave a backing beat to the rhythmic busywork of the ship. She was pacing, her shoulders hunched, pointedly not looking over Shieldbreaker’s side, averting her eyes from the retreating silhouettes of Lady Alannys and Unwelcome Guest, and the Lute and Harp flotillas in their wake.
No matter what task they busied themselves with, the ship’s crew parted to allow Morna her passage back and forth. She stopped just in front of Erik at the stern, turned on one heel and marched back to Kiera at the bow. She probably felt cramped on the ship. Erik remembered how she had walked the walls of Lordsport on the day Sigorn was injured, her relentless pace only hitching momentarily in front of the maester’s door on each cycle.
Soon she returned to him again, both eyes on the deck, though only one saw it.
“Do you want to sit down?” he asked her as she swivelled, not particularly expecting a response.
“No,” she said, and stopped. It seemed to take some effort to look back at him. “I want to hit something,” she explained. Now that she was still, hands clenched into fists, she stood out amidst the rolling motion of the oarsmen to either side.
“Once we get cruising, we can spar, if that would help?”
Morna hesitated. “I want to break something,” she clarified.
“I don’t think I can help there.”
Morna waved a hand in a way that meant she’d get over it. When she resumed her pacing, Erik followed her to the midpoint of the ship, retrieving his fiddle from the hold. He met both his wives at the bow, and brought the instrument to his chin.
Drawing the bow across the strings, he pushed a few bars of an old and nameless tune, rising notes wishing good fortune across the waves.
Morna relaxed as the answering verses whispered back to them, leaning her scarred forehead against Kiera’s shoulder. After a few moments, she straightened, pushing her hair back from her eyes.
“I’m alright,” she insisted, flexing her hands, “I just hate when I can’t do anything.”
Neither Erik nor Kiera responded. There was no need. They understood.
Three days after the fleets separated, the winds turned on them. The tips of dark clouds on the horizon spoke of a storm that Shieldbreaker and the Fiddle flotilla were only feeling the echoes of, but it was a complete headwind all the same. Everyone aboard knew what it meant, but they groaned all the same when the nausea, the strain, the third thing began.
Erik kept his focus on the fervent activity on the deck, oarsmen keeping balance, two-men teams on the spar lines, Erik’s own hands on the rudder. Hours into the nauseating back-and forth, he found his focus drifting. He called Osfryd over to take the rudder for the upcoming portside turn.
Kiera had abandoned her perch on the bow that morning, and spent the whole day with her back against the mast, rubbing her forehead, eyes closing every time the creaking sail beam swivelled over her head.
He went to the canopy at the mast, and gently pressed a kiss to Kiera’s forehead. She looked up at him, smiling apologetically.
“The creaking makes my head ache,” she said, by way of an explanation. Erik just leaned on the mast beside her, and held her hand down by his side. They watched their other wife for a time. Morna was at the windward side of the ship as it turned, helping some of the crew scrape clinging seaweed from the hull, exposed from the waterline by Shieldbreaker’s dramatic tilt.
“She’s going to heave if she keeps going like that,” Kiera commented. Erik murmured an agreement, watching the seasick stagger that was starting to come into Morna’s movements.
“You know what she’s like,” Erik said. “You and Asha grew up sailing, she thinks she has to prove herself.”
Kiera scoffed, though there was a smile hidden in her offended scowl. “Asha barely sailed.”
Erik conceded that with a shrug. “She’s Ironborn, though.”
Kiera nodded, then squeezed her eyes shut as the ship began tilting to port, the spar over their head groaning as it scraped against the mast. She had always been Erik’s softest wife. Even as the shipborne bastard of a Tyroshi merchant, her youth had been filled with more comforts than a wildling huntress or daughter of a tiny Ironborn house were ever afforded.
The deck shifted beneath them, and the hull-scrapers abandoned their posts to move to the other side. Morna passed through the cabin, teeth bared even more than her scars usually made them as she tried to breathe through the nausea.
“Fuck this,” she said conversationally, and accepted Kiera’s kiss to her scarred cheek.
“You don’t need to work yourself to the point of illness, darling,” Erik said, but she shrugged the comment off like he knew she would.
“You can help any time,” she pointed out, not unfairly.
“I’ll be over in a moment.”
Kiera shook her head. “Iemnȳ ēdrulio glaesas, dōnītsosi. I read charts and look pretty. You strong people can do the actual work.”
The storm’s wake had passed by the next day, and Erik allowed his exhausted crew a morning’s rest. The bed of sand and the cookfire were back out on the stern, Theomore frying fillets he had cut from the fish other men had pulled from the sea in the days before.
As lord and captain, Erik had the benefit of first serving, sitting with his wives under the canopy at the ship’s centre, a well-done piece of cod speared on the knife that had avenged his father.
“You’re still a kneeler, as much as the rest of them,” Morna was saying, waving a fishbone insistently. Kiera’s lips twitched into a smile at the familiar argument.
“Look, the Archon is chosen-”
“By the people with gold,” Morna interrupted.
“Yes, but you told me the Kings-Beyond-The-Wall were chosen by clan chiefs-”
“That’s not the same.”
“I’m still not sure I’m a kneeler,” Erik interjected, smiling at how Morna's face twisted into mock outrage.
“Lord Botley, I do love you, but you’re the most kneelerish person I can put up with. We’d be up raiding Bear Island, or whatsitcalled, the lion city, Lannister-port or something, if you weren’t a kneeler.”
“Those people never did anything to us,” Erik tried.
Morna pointed, catching the error. “And what did this Volantis do to us?”
“Enslaved my mother,” Kiera pointed out. Morna eyed her, making sure her wife was still in the mood for play, before she pressed on.
“Fine, what did we do, then? Why raid the Frozen Shore?”
“Well you did-” Erik caught himself before he said “raid the North.” Morna eyed him, teasing curiosity raising her mismatched eyebrows.
“You got me,” he smiled, taking another bite of cod. “I only go raiding where I can find beautiful women.”
Morna grinned at the flattery and opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by Kiera tutting in mock-outrage.
“I’m sorry, dōnītsos, but why are we stopping peacefully in Tyrosh, in that case?”
“I’ve met your father,” Erik reasoned. “Your looks come from your mother’s homeland.”
That broke the momentum of the debate as Morna barked a laugh and Kiera tried to hold one in, pinching the bridge of her nose. Erik chuckled, and managed not to flinch when the sailor called for him.
“Milord!”
Erik turned. Osfryd, leaning against the prow, hair flickering in the wind, pointed over his shoulder to the horizon before them all.
“Ship rising!” he called, by way of explanation.
Kiera was on her feet first, stepping lightly between the myriad of chatting crewmembers that Erik was surprised to see surrounding him and his wives. She reached the bow and climbed it deftly, hooking a foot in the lantern-ring as she often did. Erik and Morna followed more slowly.
“Merchant, by the shape,” Kiera said as they approached. Erik followed her gaze to the tall, barrel-hulled carrack coming over the horizon, half-silhouetted by the low morning sun. He could just make out a pennant fluttering at the tip of the tallest mast.
“Can you make out the flag?” Erik asked.
Kiera took a moment before answering, “Myrish, I think. They’re keeping dead on. You’d think they’d try to get around us, no?”
“Quicker to go through, I suppose,” Erik suggested. “Plus, they’re likely unsure how wide a fleet we have, or if we even want to attack.”
“Do we want to attack?” Morna asked.
The question drew the attention of several crewmembers, who quickly turned to listen to Erik’s answer.
Playing for time, Erik looked out at the ship again. The thought of battle made his blood tingle, but he was wary. Shallow-drafted longships like theirs were ideal for a shoreline assault, but much less suited for warfare at sea. There was a reason that the Royal Fleet consisted of dromonds and other tall ships. Attack even one Myrish trader and dozens would sink to the Drowned God’s halls. Pointless, unless there was some real reason to take that risk.
“Slavers?” Erik asked.
Kiera shook her head. “They’re heading to Dorne or the Stormlands, they know they can’t sell them there.”
“Then no.” Some men around him looked disappointed, others relieved. Erik reckoned he could guess how long each man had been sailing by that reaction.
“We’ll save our strength for a greater bounty, further East,” Erik said, his voice shifting to a commanding baritone. “To oars, men! Give them space to pass! I’ll not have them loose arrows on us for some misunderstanding.”
The knot of listeners loosened and fell away, dipping oars to water and pushing Shieldbreaker further out of the Myrish vessel’s path. The ship loomed as it came closer, and Erik saw men with crossbows take positions on the upper gunwale. A blue-haired, green-bearded man, the captain by his stance, stood at the prow and looked out at the passing fleet with suspicious eyes.
Kiera cupped her hands around her mouth and called, her voice clear and carrying as a flute, “Jemī ōdrikagon indī daor!”
We mean you no harm. It was one of the few phrases Kiera had insisted Erik learn. It got the captain’s attention, his eyes flicking across the ship until he found the speaker.
“Jaehor ojehiknon irughas!” he responded, his stance softening. The crossbowmen followed his lead. Not all of them lowered their weapons, but enough did that Erik relaxed. The captain followed with a sentence that included skoriot – where? Asking where they were from.
Erik saw Kiera give her best smile, and she gestured to the fish-covered green pennant on Shieldbreaker’s mast. “Āegenka Āja. Mȳro iksāt, kessa?”
The captain seemed to hesitate a little at her response, though Erik would have assumed that their hailing from the Iron Islands – for he recognised Āegenka Āja – was obvious from their ships. Their vessels were almost level now, and Erik could now read the curiosity in the man’s smile. He finally called, “Hen mirto Āegenka Ājor, Valyrīhos sȳrī ȳdrā!”
Kiera’s smile faltered at that, but seemed to renew with some quiet pride. “Īlōnda quptyri issa daor!”
The captain barked a laugh, and the reaction was echoed by a few chuckles among the crossbowmen. Erik couldn’t understand the joke, but laughed along anyway. Kiera leaned over to her husband.
“They are from Myr,” she confirmed. “I don’t think they’re interested in a fight.”
“Good,” Erik said. “Ask where they’re going.”
Kiera returned her attention to the passing ship. “Skoriot īlāt?” she called.
The captain pointed westward, presumably indicating his destination.
“Jelmāzmari Mōrio!”
Erik recognized the name of Storm’s End, but the rest of the man’s sentence was lost in a flurry of unfamiliar syllables. The captain rubbed thumb and forefinger together, so he gathered that he was speaking of trade with the Stormlanders.
The ship was passing them now, Shieldbreaker swaying as it was buffeted in its wake.
“Biarver aōt!” Kiera called. The man’s response was lost in the wind, but his smile told Erik that it had been some kind farewell. He watched the retreating galley with contentment. It was always good to meet a kindred spirit on the high seas.
The cawing of seagulls was the first sign they were approaching land. Always a light sleeper, Erik’s eyes shot open at the sound. Morna’s arm was still draped over his chest, her eyes closed and shallow breaths peaceful with sleep. Erik was careful as he wriggled out from beneath her, stood and stepped over her and Kiera, who had her face pressed into the nape of Morna’s neck.
Most of the rest of the crew were asleep as well, wrapped in thin blankets between the rowing benches. Three men were talking quietly to one another in the shadows to starboard, while six others played cards in the light of the new bow lantern. Back at the stern, Erik found Mathos posted at the rudder.
“Milord,” Mathos said, by way of greeting. He kept his voice low, and Erik followed suit.
“Mathos. No trouble in the night?”
“None, milord. Wind was steady, we’re dead on for the Bloodstone strait. Mind you, those smoke trails have me wondering, milord.”
Erik’s eyebrows asked his question for him, and Mathos just pointed past him, out towards the bow and the sea and the deep, dark shape of the island on the horizon, blocking the spill of starlight beyond it. Then, as his eyes adjusted to the sight, he saw them – thin, curling lines of smoke rising over the island. Five of them, tightly packed together, shining silver in the light.
Erik shrugged. They disquieted him, as well, but he voiced the most obvious objection to his worry all the same. “Bloodstone isn’t entirely uninhabited. It’s probably just a fishing village.”
Mathos gave a sort of half shrug. He obviously didn’t want to contradict his captain, but he pressed on anyway.
“Perhaps, milord, but who’s staying up to tend the fires this late? Sunrise is barely an hour away, by my reckoning. I can’t think of many reasons folk’d’ve fires kept so late.”
“Watchtowers?”
“It’s just a guess milord, but aye. What’re they keeping watch for, I wonder?”
Erik kept his eyes on the smoke, though his attention was focused inward. There was some fear there, and a hesitant surprise. Excitement boiled in his chest, but it had a core that Erik took a moment to identify. Satisfaction. Here was proof that he would not return to Lordsport unsated, that he would find more of what he sought most, as he had found first in Starfall.
The unexpected.

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

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

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

 The Coming Storm (Dust tie in) 

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

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

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

 Fallout 5: Tactics 

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

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

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

So I’m a newgrad and I got a job at a snf. Today was my first day off orientation on NOC shift so I’m basically alone alone . No help unless I walk really far to go find another nurse at a different station. So during my first few hours of work there was a pt with a coc and I had to eventually send him to the hospital. This made me start my med pass like an hour late. I have 40patients and during my med pass someone ripped out the Foley catheter which took up so much more time. Then when I eventually get to a room all the way on the other side this lady is so angry at me for not being there faster. I explained to her that I had an emergency which delayed things and I understand her frustration and sincerely apologized to her MANY times. Then when I went on the eMAR I saw that she had oxy prn. Well, it wasn’t in my cart. I went to go check the ADU and it also wasn’t there and I checked the medications that were delivered and that one was missing. I explained the situation to her and told her I will contact the doctor to see what’s up with her medication. But when I said this she got so much angrier and said I’m not waiting any longer for my medication i want it right now… then she started berating me and telling me that I’m not a nurse and blabla. I told her the longer she’s talking to me the longer it’s gonna take for her medication come. She didn’t want me to leave the room but magically wanted the medicine to appear in my hand. At some point I just looked at her with a blank stare and just left without saying anything.
I understand that she’s in a lot of pain but she’s being unreasonable. I can’t just magically make the medication appear
How do you deal with assholes?

-and obviously it was stupid to think that any of my old friends would still be there. Could I even call them that? I haven’t been back here in maybe ten years and my ‘friends’ were the staff at a bar I worked at for two months, transient work by its very nature. Especially in Rome. There’s a street preacher and I think he’s saying “KINGS, BOOK ONE! CHAPTER 19!” and maybe he is because he has 1 Kings 19 (11-13) written on a sign next to him.
I remember Malfi… Marfi? Was a student anyway. Studying history at masters level. I can clearly see the seal of her university in my head clearly but I can't remember the university. I think about maybe pulling out my phone and googling it but it’ll take too long and I don’t want to waste the battery or not be looking at my surroundings for too long.
Hey- hey friend how are you? What are you doing here?
Oh god. If I keep my head down maybe he won’t bother me but suddenly there’s a wall of flesh draped in a cheap blue t-shirt semi-blocking my path.
I’m busy, sorry. I push past him and he yells out.
HEY! You got a problem with black people?
Loud enough for others to turn around.
What the hell is his problem? The insolence of it! The actual insolence! I smiled as I said I’m busy for fucks’ sake. I have a disgust response from the way he speaks as it plays back in my head. You ghat a problehm with blaq people? Flat vowels from the Global South. I could smell whatever ersatz cologne he’d doused himself in. Big, dumb bicycle chain wrapped around his neck. I could barely make out this heckler’s face, he was so overweight he was drowned in fat, and he threw his arms up in the air so his bony elbows came out at weird, jutting angles.
My mood is completely ruined so I turned right, catching the sun, cutting off a man walking a Chow dog who I presume follows after me.
My sunglasses are in my pocket and for whatever reason I lose the will to actually pull them out so I’m walking blind into glare. Was everyone still looking at me? The sun is beating down and on top of that the wind is blowing directly into my face. I can’t see anything and I feel prickly heat around my flanks. Maybe a tweed jacket was the wrong choice, but I’m not going to take it off and drape it over my shoulder right now. I do not want to be perceived.
I start thinking about the street venders from ten years ago, how friendly they all were. That’s not a thing anymore, I guess. I force all that from my mind and as I’m walking I involuntarily start thinking back to when I was little.
I was six, maybe seven, and my mother was in the hospital so I was being looked after by my father. It took him maybe three days to stop bothering to make sure I had a bath or brushed my teeth. Maybe a week before he stopped doing laundry. About three weeks in he was forced to start taking me to school again; somebody had mentioned something to my grandmother who came round to shout at him. He reckoned I could learn everything I needed from watching television.
The other kids were not a fan of my new look, and the bullying was horrible. Already a lonely child, I was further isolated from my peers by my appearance and odour. I had an initial grace period, I’m sure Miss. Euston had prepped everyone that my mother was sick and everyone was to be very nice to me.
The great mass of my appearance, greasy and smelly, eventually pulled through the gravity of Miss. Euston’s authority, and finally I slipped through her graces and into the bottomless pit of cruelty only children are capable of.
One night when the rest of the class was dismissed she kept me back to talk to me.
“How are you, John?”
Fine.
“I hear your mummy will be back soon? Isn’t that great?”
Yes.
“Maybe you should tell your dad to give you a bath before she gets home, yes?”
Yes.
“Is your dad coming to pick you up today?”
I don’t know.
She smiled at me put her hand to my face. It was warm and soft and I could feel the sea-salt sweat from her palms. It was comforting. Maybe that’s why I’m a cuddler now. She gave me a chocolate bar from her treat tin and let me go. My dad did actually pick me up that day. He asked me where I got the chocolate bar from and I said Miss. Euston gave it to me. I never ate it, at some point it must have been thrown away.
I realized Miss. Euston was, probably, barely a few years older than I was now. I wonder what she was up to. At some point the buildings covered the sun and I checked my watch. Two more hours to go.
I see a free table on a raised mount and decide to sit there. I look up at the statues looking down at me and a waiter comes over and says I have to order if I want to stay there. This annoys me so I bark at him that I need a menu if I want to order anything. He leaves and the clouds open again, probably by the wind, and it beats down on me again. Feeling more grounded I take off my jacket and drape it over my chair and take the cigarettes from the inside pocket. I looked at my phone and re-read the invitation email.
To – me, please be here at whenever o’clock to talk to our international undergrads on international project management.
Regards, some professor I didn’t like as an undergrad.
It was certainly an honor to be asked, but no doubt was being used to drum up engagement for some useless course they were peddling. How exactly does International Relations parse into International Project Management? You learn everything you need to know doing the damn job. I had emailed myself my famous slide deck, the one that was thrown around in secret by senior bureaucrats who were sick of being bureaucrats and wanted to actually do something. The one that Managers said could never be released, but had obviously plagiarized in snippets when they thought appearing to be daring would be beneficial to their careers.
A brunette waitress comes over with the menu, she looks young. Maybe 18. Over a decade younger than me.
If you don’t mind getting up, she said in a startling American, there’s a buffet as well.
I say thank you and look at her. Was she American? American-Italian? She looked British. Maybe Danish. I didn’t want to ask. She was pale, apart from her lips and cheeks which were the color of a rose.
Thank you, I say. Do I order drinks from you?
Of course, she said and took out a notepad and pen. The other wait staff used an iPad. I wondered where hers was and asked for a double espresso and a glass of orange juice.
Is that all?
Wait, how tall is the orange?
What?
I smile and her and mime a glass growing from very small to very tall. How tall is the glass? Is it a lot of orange juice?
She smiles and laughs and it’s very cute, I think she lost her composure because the laugh doesn’t match her voice.
I run my hand through my hair because I need something for my hands to do, and she says yeah. It’s tall. Pretty big. Are you going far after this?
I dunno. There’s some people trying to kill me. I smile again, obviously a joke.
She smiles back. You should have the buffet and I’ll bring you your drinks. I’ll leave the jar of orange juice but don’t tell anyone, OK?
OK, I say. Grazie.
Prego, she says and walks off.
I check how far the walk is and it’s maybe 40 minutes, too far in this weather. Will it rain? Will I literally burn to a crisp? I wish I had brought my laptop so I could have the slide deck up. I could ask the waitress what she thought.
She comes back with my coffee and a cold glass of orange juice, and a jug of water.
Sorry, she says, my manager told me to only pour the juice.
That’s fine, I think I’m only 40 minutes away. Like three miles.
You won’t be able to walk three miles in forty minutes, she says. You should eat quickly, then get up and go.
I dunno, I say, drawing out my response. I’m quite tall.
She laughs again and says she’ll bring my cheque now.
I get up and make a plate of pastry, the meat looks like it had been left out so I avoided it. I grabbed some things I don’t know the name of, and a slice of bread that was being warmed on a terracotta platter over some coals.
She walks away and when she comes back I want to ask for her number, but there’s a huge delivery truck slowly rolling through. My cup is shaking in its’ saucer and if it wasn’t already mostly drunk it’d run over. I try to make conversation but I don’t want to shout at her so just give her 30 euro and say keep the tip. She shouts back thanks. I get up and start walking.
The sun won out against the rain and it started to pound me again. The air was dry. I was walking fast and making good time, but I did not want to end up sweaty when I got there so I took off my jacket and carried it under my arm. I checked my phone again and I had a missed call and a voice mail. I couldn’t see the name in the glare.
I couldn’t stop to put earphones in, so I put my phone away.
I managed to make it to the campus with five minutes to spare. I hullo’d with the professors and asked for a glass of water. I drank it in one then went to the bathroom to piss, and check my hair. I was sweating but my jacket would cover it. My hair looked great. I clenched my jaw and looked at my face. Intense. Satisfied, I blew my nose and in my head went over the topics I’d cover. If I got lost I’d ask the students questions.
For some reason I thought back to Miss. Euston, looking after the poor scapegrace that was me. I remember once she told me God was in the wind.
I was waiting in the wings, hidden on a pre-stage before the main stage. Before I put my phone on silent, I thought I’d listen to the voice mail quickly. I briefly thought it "pre-stage" was even a word. I didn’t recognize the number. I pressed play and raised it to my ear.
There was a pause and then, cutting through the roar of the wind once present but no longer, came a voice.
“Hi, John, I hope you’re well and I’m just calli-“
The voicemail stopped. Someday, I hope, Apple will figure out how to actually let me hear my voicemail without constantly having to un-pause it. I hit play and put my phone back to my ear but I knew who it is before she said her name. “I’m just calling to say hey. It’s me, Joanne.”
It was a whisper being carried over time and continents. A whisper from a girl that might as well be dead. Why me, Joanne. Why me.
I covered my face with my hands. I realized I was doing it in shame and suddenly Miss. Euston’s voice came back to me again. “God is in the wind.”
I pulled the skin on my face down, pressed hard, and walked out onto the next stage, tucking my phone away in my-

(M19) Tomorrow, I will do my maturita exam. And after that, I dont have any goals because they fell apart last month.
When I was 14, I met a girl in an archery club and I fell in love with her. We started dating but after ten days we broke up. She said she had felt too young for a relationship and I understood it. But she completely cut me off and later I found out that she pretended it so she wouldnt harm me. It was devastating for me and I was feeling depressed for like two years. Because I was encountering her quite frequently and just couldnt get over it. Since that moment, I became extremely introverted, had troubles with trusting people but mostly didnt have any self esteem.
Two years ago, an Ukrainian girl came to uor class (Czechia), she fled from the war. And she was the most beautiful person Ive ever seen. And I couldnt encounter her, I just couldnt because of the past. I became attached to her, I heavily idealized her. She was two months in our class. I had too many negative thoughts, how we wouldnt match, even though I didnt know her. Then Holidays came and I finally decided to encounter her the next school year. But she left to Prague, its on the opposite side of our country.
And since that moment, it was my greatest wish and goal to meet her again. And when I realized that there is a university I wanted to go, my plans began to form. And last summer I wrote her a poem that I would like to meet her. And to my greatest surprise, she agreed. And so I visited her and.. she was better than all my dreams. She was like me. Since that moment, Ive had the happiest part of my life. I visited her on Christmas and it was the best Christmas Ive ever had. I bought her a book and we enjoyed the day. She was visibly happy and I was so happy that we matched together so well.
She was my main motivation to everything, I dedicated my whole future to her. I sent only one application to university. I imagined how we will be together. She was the first girl I started to trust, I overcame all my negative thoughts. I became positive person so much that I convinced myself that she likes me and we will end up together. And in the moment when she sent me her photo sealed it all.
At the start of the last month, she told me that she has a boyfriend. It more than a month and a half and I just cant.. do anything. My greatest wish, my only goal broke. And now I will have to go to study to Prague because its my only choice. It will be painful, everything will remind her.. I wrote dozens of poems about her. I was so happy that it started to fit so nicely together and now.. I dont have anything. And I dont want anyone else, I dont want to be happy without her, I just lost an angel.
I explained everything to her and she understood, she let my to send her all my poems. She was the first one who didnt block me in this situation. She is the kindest person on the Earth. I wrote and sent her a new collection of poems afterwards and it ended there.
I am goind to do my maturita exams, Im one of the smartest students in my school, Im going to study nuclear physics and yet, I hate myself fot being so successful in my school life but I never wanted this. All I want is just love, I dont care if I will have a poor job, or if I will have children, or an expensive house or car, I only want someone who would love me. And all of that I saw in this one girl. And its gone. All my dreams..
My family tried to help me as much as they could.. but they dont know how to help me. I started visiting a psychologist and I take antidepressants. But nothing of it will bring me her back, nothing of it will bring me back the meaning of life, my goals, wishes, dreams.
I dont want to put up with it. I feel like life showed me the best of it and than took it from me. I feel like I wouldnt be ever satisfied with it, like from all the paths that I couldve taken, this one will forever hurt me.
And so, tommorow, my life will just end. And I dont know what to do.
I just so much regret not encountering her while she was in our class. I cant read my poems anymore because its so painful to me.
I worry that I wont be ever able to create such a strong bond to anyone else. Such a strong longig, a desire.

So I've had asthma all my life , and I've gotten severe pneumonia once well it was pneumothorax , my left lung collapsed it was so painful I had back pain I really dont remember all I remember was having really bad sharp back pain everytime I took a deep breath I was ,15 I'm 24 now, so 2 weeks ago I had a really bad asthma flare up but I thought it was only that nothing else, and I went to the emergency room and unfortunately it was some form of bacteria in my lung(lower lobe) I got prescribed Prednisolone and Antibiotics. I went to my Primary doctor 3 days later to see how I was doing and she did an X-ray but I haven't got the Results yet. I felt better tho. 3 days ago I started feeling asthma symptoms again wheezing, Inflammation in the airways, no cough or any symptoms of pneumonia though, yesterday I was force huffing and coughing to clear all the mucus from the lungs which actually freaking helped I was amazed. I was already thinking damn Im ganna have to go back to the ER and get more steroids. Which I don't want to because recently I had bad side effects with my vision it was crazy. But my point/concern is I feel better today I have mild Wheezing and no cough or nothing. But I do have pain in my upper back and my ribs occasionally, it comes and goes. I don't know if it's the pneumonia that came back or if it's because I was doing labored breathing yesterday all day and forcefully coughing and huffing to expand my airways and clear mucus. Are my muscles just sore and I get spasms here and there ? Or should I be concerned that the bacteria is still in my left lower lobe in my lung? Idk. I don't want to go to the emergency room because they just shoot me up with steroids and antibiotics. Obviously it helps but I feel good right now. I want to think it's just my body tired from yesterday, also I was taking duo nebulizers every 4 hours and with each of them I was taking deep breaths every single hit. Maybe it's just my body sore right? No pneumonia? I know the only way to find out is to get an X-ray.. what do y'all think?

i smashed my foot on a shampoo bottle (amazing i know). the injury happened early yesterday morning so it's about 1.5 days post-injury at this point.
obviously it hurts and i was concerned because the blood under the skin still looks bright, so i'm wondering if there is still internal bleeding going on.
from what i read it's mostly just keep as still as you can until it heals. the pain is in the pinkie toe and extends upward into the top side arch for a couple of inches.
do i need to go to a podiatrist or can i tough it out? 43F
images: right foot with injury, left foot for comparison (please excuse the rotten looking feet)
https://imgur.com/a/gxoxt6r

Part 3 of my short story. 1 and 2 got decent receptions. If this one does well Ill keep it goin.
I started looking around the room for anything useful. Checked a few lockers pretty quickly. I was looking for something specific. Pictures of family, lab coats, the entire collection helldivers trading cards, and your typical personal belongings. Damn. Youd have figured at least one... HERE it is! I reached into the second to last locker on a wall of ten and found a loaded Peacemaker. I stapped the holster over one shoulder and under another across my chest for ease of access. Can never have to many weapons. I took the extra mags and stored them in my left thigh pouch.
3 just watched as I completely gutted the room for anything useful. They sort of shuffled behind me after a couple minutes. Following behind me like a domesticated pet.
I search the cupboards above one of the desks and found some typical workplace memos. "No fraternization without a signed C0-1 permit," toss, "Make sure to enjoy at least one 30 second break every day," useless. I closed the cupboard and looked under the desk. There was a safe with a pretty decent lock on it. Well, decent for civilians. It was a digital combination lock with a biometric finger scan and eye scan. Whatever was in here had to be good. I pulled the retractable cord out of my wristpad and plugged into the input in the safe. Turned the whole 3 point security system into a series of directional inputs. Up, down, left, left, right, down, done. The safe Clicked and popped open slightly.
Inside was just a keycard labelled "Master". It was a hefty card made of metal about a quarter of an inch thick and 3 inches by 2 inches on its face. I tucked it under my wristpad in a small pouch between it and my wrist. 3 was just standing behind me holding Mr. Ears.
They just wore a gown. No socks, no pants or anything to keep them warm. Alright, add that to the list. Clothes shopping for the lab experiment. Other than what i'd already searched there wasnt anything else in this building that I could see. I put my hands on my hips and sort of paced for a moment.
"Do you want to see my room?" 3 said. I stopped pacing and looked back at 3. Of course! I thought. This kid would have had to sleep somewhere and as far as I could see there wasnt a bed in here. How did 3 end up in here anyway? Did they walk out in the cold from another building? Tough kid. Maybe one of the doctors carried em over and just... left them here. The thought angered me. I started towards the door when a small hand pulled on my cape. The cape itself had red trim with a black and white design on it. A simple red skull sat smack dab in the middle. A cape to remember those lost at the Creek.
I turned around to see 3 point towards a wall at the backside of the building some 30 ft. Away. "Its this way mister." 3 ran towards the wall and gently pushed in a hidden button. The wall sunk inwards and moved down to reveal a stairwell going down. Flickering lights barely illuminating the stairwell. I slowly approached the stairwell as 3 just stood next to the button looking up at me, their face devoid of emotion. They walked through the doorway and started climbing down the stairs with a bit of effort. They held the hand rail and carefully descended.
I kept my flashlight on and pointed down and ahead, letting 3 lead by a couple feet. My right hand dangled next to my senator instinctively. No need to draw it just yet. It was a winding stairway that continued down for 3 floors. At the bottom there was another automatic doorway. It was a double door that opened from the middle but one side was jammed and the other just sort of bounced between being fully open and slightly ajar. The lights continued to flicker. 3 walked through the opening without hesitation, their little feet making pat, pat sounds on the cold metal floor.
Checks out I thought. Distant planet, secret experiments, gotta have a secret labratory underground. I sidestepped through the door way and into a security checkpoint. All the consoles were on emergency backup and the barricade that an armed guard would have stood behind was empty. I checked it for ammo but no luck. 3 kept going deeper down the hall. We passed about 10-15 seperate typical offices where I assume the scientist here would have kept notes and done paperwork. The end of the hall was marked by a T intersection. On the wall in front there was a directory. To the right was "Labratory", "Mess Hall", and "Transit Station". Transit Station? I thought. Better check that out. The left side was labelled "Security", and "Subject Chambers". Makes sense I guess. I bet all these scientists slept in a seperate building, meanwhile they probably kept 3 here under lock and key. We took a left at the end of the hall and ended up at another door. 3 gently pushed the console next to the door and the light swapped from red to green as the door sssssked open.
We passed security on our way through the hall and I could see a weapons cage inside the security office. Hell yeah I thought. I wanted to turn and start stocking up on supplies but 3 gently pulled my hand towards the end of the hall. Alright kid. Maybe you've got some extra clothes in here huh? Well need em. 3 opened the door to another area labelled "Subject Chambers." I entered inside and inhaled somewhat sharply.
There were 4 cryochambers, 2 on each wall, that immediately flanked the doorway as you entered. All of them were vacant and non operational. 3 walked past the cryotubes and up a small two stair incline onto a small play area. It had some simple blocks, a couple bits of paper and threee or four boxes of crayons. 3 seemed to try to ignore the cryotubes but couldnt.
"Whenever we would be bad," she gently gestured to the cryo tubes "the doctors would put us in there". She walked over to one of the 4 beds and sat down on it. It was simple with white lined and a typical medical blanket. "This is my bed" 3 said. "That one was 2's and those ones were "1, and 4". 3 gestured towards the other beds laid out in similar fashion to the cryochambers.
I tried to compose myself for a moment. How could this happen? Theres no way this was sanctioned by the Ministry. No way in hell. These had to be rogues scientists, and wed helped evacuate them. Dammit. I knelt down beside 3, "Did they give you any clothes 3? Any jackets or pants or anything?"
3 shook their head. "We never needed em. The doctors gave us medicine that made us warm." 3's eyes dropped and they tried to sound out a word. "The did some eggs-spear-ear-ants and then to test them they put us outside. 1 and 4 didnt get cold, like me, but 2..." 3 looked over at 2's bed. "2 got cold."
End part 3. Im not good at picking where to stop so I just base it off of word count sorta. Feel free to suggest names for 3!

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

earlier

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

Just a warning, this is going to be very long! I (21F) and my brother (15M) were abandoned by our mother when I was 11 or 12.
For context, she was a teen mother, with a lot of mental health issues (bipolar, BPD, depression, i can only assume some form of sociopathic behavior), and she addicted to hard drugs. My father was a little rough around the edges, but overall a hardworking guy who went into the relationship with a "I can fix her" mentality. For the first few years of my life, I was oblivious to all of the issues going on in my family, I just enjoyed the first 5 years of my life as a happy child. My mother hid her drug addiction well enough for a 5 year old not to ask any questions, and I thought weekly screaming matches were normal and "mommies and daddies fight sometimes". Unbeknownst to me, my mother was cheating with dozens of people, and emotionally/financially/physically abusing my father, he put on a happy face to try and give me a good childhood. He worked 5am- 5pm at a bagel store (no car, only a bike) and never came home empty handed; always a toy, or a piece of candy for me as "sorry" for always being gone and working all day. I thought my mother would always bring her "friends" (men and women) in the house while dad was at work, and they would spend hours "playing" in her room with the door locked. I pretty much had to raise and take care of myself from the time I woke up to around 6pm, so I ended up becoming pretty smart by entertaining myself with my mom's fantasy novels (Harry potter, princess of mars, lord of the rings, etc.) On days she had college classes, our landlords (amazing people) would babysit me. My mother did give me affection, and I loved her very much, but she was very hands-off.
Granted, I wasn't the easiest child to deal with, I had ADHD, undiagnosed autism, among some other things.
When she got pregnant with my brother, (also adhd+autism) I noticed things started to change. My parents would fight more often, the house smelled like smoke, and the electricity to the apartment would be out for weeks because we couldn't pay the bills. Shortly after my brother was born, my parents had the hugest fight I've ever seen, I don't even remember what it was about (probably cheating), but it was the first time it hit me that everything in my life wasn't as happy as I thoughts. I sat clutching my baby brother as she beat my dad with a chair and started screaming. He grabbed a knife and ran outside and tried to end his life by stabbing his wrist. I was screaming and crying my landlords name, hoping my baby sitter would come and save me, he bolted downstairs, pried the door open, and grabbed the two of us and took us into his top floor of the apartment. He gave me some chocolate milk while him and his wife called the police. That was the day my parents split up, and my mom was able to spin the whole thing on my dad, taking custody and he was granted only visitation rights. My mother was kicked out of the apartment, and my aunt (dads sister, but my mother had taken a liking to her and allowed us to see her often) had a feeling something fishy was going on when no one would tell her anything about the details of that night. She went to my old house and asked my landlords what happened, they told her, so she let us sleep over with her whenever we wanted as a safe haven from our mom. She didn't go to court with any of the information she got, out of fear that my mother wouldn't let her see us again, because she was now our only place of complete safety.
My life became a living hell from that point onward. A week a later, my mom told us that her "new boyfriend"(probably a guy she cheated on dad with but I was like 7 and didn't know better) was letting us move in with him. He was the most horrible piece of shit. He got my mother addicted to even more drugs, and they both constantly talked badly about my dad, and when I cried, covered my ears, and said I didn't want to hear it, he would hit me and tell me that I needed to know. He was basically unemployed, and would sometimes sell drugs, or take antiques out of abandoned houses to sell. I hated him. My mother made an entire personality shift, and would defend him even if he said horrible things to me or hit me. She saw no fault in him. She stopped reading me bedtime stories, and stopped telling me she loved me. The only time she was nice to me was when we were in front of other people like school functions... she would kiss up to all my teachers.
I was left to take care of my baby brother on my own, and my father was in and out of mental hospitals from the trauma, so everything he said about how horrible my mother was fell of deaf ears because he was labeled "crazy".
We had no money, it was all spent on drugs, I went out by myself several times to dig through dumpsters just to get food, and I stole baby formula from supermarkets. This one nice homeless lady knew my situation, and would walk me into the stores "as my grandma" so I wouldnt get stopped to ask why a child was all alone. She would poke around the store and buy a $1 candy bar, while I stole formula, and some cold cuts for her. She showed me all the best dumpsters, where delis would throw put perfectly good food at the end of the day. We had an alliance of sorts. I was less than 9 years old.
Her boyfriend became sexually abusive to me around that time. I'll spare the details.
My mother was starting to go off the rails completely. Doing anything for drug money. I clearly remember the time that she told me to get naked and she took pictures of me, up close in all my private areas "to send to the doctor" or else "I would have to go in person and they might give me a shot" (she knew I hated needles.). She never mentioned that event again, but I just know she sent them to some pedophile for money. It makes me sick to my stomach when I think about it. Her bf would try and hurt my brother, I would always step in and get beat instead. We saw our father and aunt maybe once a month, and I was threatened not to say anything to the school or my dad/aunt or else he would kill my mom. I said nothing. I told my aunt all the bruises were from bullies at school, my teachers were taking care of it... or that I was climbing trees, some excuse. I think she knew the truth, but was too scared of losing us to say anything. Everytime they went to drop us back off at our mom's, my brother would have a tantrum. He cried so much the blood vessels in his face would pop. He now at 15 has permanant, freckle like, spots of red on his face from crying so much so often.
She got pregnant again with his twin girls. She gave birth prematurely, and they came out very very sick. She gave birth at home... I was giving most of their care. After the "ohhhh new baby" feeling wore off for her, of course I was basically a mother of 3 at 10 years old. They didn't last long, less than a year. I was in complete despair and that was the first time i tried to end my life. I filled the bathtub and tried to drown myself by repeatedly hitting my head underwater in attempts to pass out under the water. It didn't work, and I was left with neck pain and a migraine that lasted 4 days. I attempted about 5 times, different methods, by this point I haven't been to school in a week. When I came back to school, the teachers noticed something was wrong. I kept looking off into space, detached. I would lash out and act aggressively when anyone would try and talk to me. I would have 2 hour "bathroom breaks" where I just stared at the wall inside the stall and acted rudely when anyone came to get me. What did they do? Not call CPS, of course, they sent me to a special school because of my "sudden behavior issues". I was in a class now with students I could not connect with in any way. I had no friends. All the other kids in my new class had severe learning disabilities and talking to my brother who was 6 years younger than me was more of a conversation. They couldn't read, most of them were almost non-verbal.
My mom broke up with her bf because he cheated, and we were going to lose the house. He still lived with us for a few days but stayed silent. My mother blamed me, saying that I ruined everything by being a bad child and now we were going to be homless. He tried to touch me one last time and I snapped and stabbed him deeply with a BBQ screwer, he just walked away. later that night he killed himself, I saw it. I'll never get that image out of my head.
I lost it, I had an outburst at school, crying and screaming that I wanted to kill myself and for God to just let me die. They sent me to a hospital, and the school called my mom to say I was having an outburst of psychosis. I spilled everything to the hospital about what her bf was doing to me (I couldnt bring myself to talk about my mothers abuses for some reason), and after a while, it was my dad who came to get me... apparently my mother had taken off, leaving my brother alone in the house after the school had called her. I had so many questions. But I was so happy to finally be able to live with my dad and his side of the family.
I was so traumatized, as well as neurodivergent, I acted strangely and dealt with some bullies at school but that was it, it was like heaven on earth. My father didn't even know the full scope of what went on, but the more I told him the more guilty he felt. He started spoiling us a bit out of guilt, so we were happy to be with a parent who loved us.
We never knew where she went. Until I was 18, and she reached out to me on social media. Initially I didn't want to answer. I left my DM sitting there for a few days but... I felt this unexplainable pull. I hated her all these years, but for some reason when the option to take her back into my life came up... something in me missed her. I kept thinking back to the few happy times, and the curiosity was killing me. I finally messaged back, my father told me not to, but he said he couldn't stop me, I at least deserved some answers, and to get all my pent up hatred out at her for some closure. We awkwardly chatted for a few minutes, she told me that her father in West Virginia picked her up, she started a new life, joined narcotics anonymous, but stayed low and didn't let herself be known. She met a genuinely good man at NA, who had convinced her to right her wrongs, quit drugs, and fix her family. They had 2 kids together (one with down syndrome), and she was a present, active mother. I felt a vicious jealousy. Why would she go and have 2 more kids when she had 2 that she abandoned? Why were they treated with love and a loving home when we went through hell...? Why didn't she make it up to us before she went and had more kids..?
My mind did weird things then. It made me need her approval. I kissed up to her, saying I forgave her. That I always knew everything was always her ex bfs fault and not hers.That we were sad when she left. I planned a trip to see her a month later and her new family, my friends all begged me it was a bad idea, to please please not go, and at least to not tell my brother about it. I listened to them, and didnt tell my brother any of this, I told him I was visiting a long distance friend.
I went, we had a pretty good time. Her kids were cute, and I absolutely adored her new lover. He was a good southern man, my gut told me that. He took me fishing, and let me talk through all my feelings. I finally had the relationship with her that I always craved. It felt sickening good, I was estatic. I didn't care about all of the weird signs, like the weird friends she had (looked like crack addicts), and how she managed to get a kind rich southern guy to take her in. I didn't even care. I was just happy to finally feel like I had her approval. I have a habit of bedwetting time to time from anxiety, I ended up having an accident and I was mortified. I cleaned it all up, but told her and, she said it was no big deal. She used to scream at me or hit me as a child for wetting the bed, and now she was reacting normally. It was like a new woman.
My trip was cut short by a week, she had to be rushed into hospital because her appedix was about to explode, she needed to recover and wouldnt be able to do anything fun with me for the remainder of the trip. I watchd her get taken by the ambulance, and was freaking out crying, I was so relieved when the surgery was a success. Her new man apologized profusely for all he stress and bought me a plane ticket back home to NY. He hugged me saying he would be so happy to see me again over the summer, and he had so much fun fishing with me. That he wanted to be a good step dad. He was a nice dude, just like my dad (a good guy she manipulated) I felt it in my gut. They both were at the airport, my mother in a wheelchair, and hugged me off. She said she loved me and to text her when I landed
I did, and got no response. Another day passed, nothing. I started to freak out and called her, only for it to go to voicemail. I messaged one of her friends sons who she Introduced me to. Asking if she was okay. He said he would get back to me once she responded to him, but them he too ghosted me. It was like she was never there. I called her partners work, and they said they would tell him to give me a call. Nothing. I was in despair. I assumed the worst, that she had died or something because of a surgery complication. I was so confused. I pushed it all out of my mind, wrote it off as a mystery even though it ate up at me. I always just justified it as a death, even though it made no sense. She was still following me on Facebook, but there wasn't activity for months when she was once super active. I deleted facebook a few months later because it just hurt.
It's been about 3 years since then. I needed to re-download facebook because my aunt wanted me to check something on matketplace... and I looked up her name just out of curiosity... shes been posting for over a year now. She's okay. She posts her kids, her fiance... she never once responded ro any of my messages yet. Not on text, not on Facebook messenger, no where.... I scrolled and scrolled, crying. I saw she got a new tattoo... a rose for each of her kids.... one for each of her two new kids, one for a miscarriage she had...two for our sisters who passed away... NONE for me or my brother. Like we don't even exist to her.
I don't know what to do. I want to know WHY. We finally had a good relationship, I finally forgave her. We finally could have been okay, saw each other a few times a year... she said she was happy to have me back in her life.... WHY? I'm so heartbroken and confused. I miss her. Was it because I wet the bed? I don't know. I know shes horrible, but I can't help but miss her so much it hurts. Should I continue trying to reach out, or just let her go..? How do I process thos? Any advice, or maybe a theory/explanation/comfort. Anything would help. I just need help. I don't know what to do...

Around two months ago, I began to notice crowding in my teeth and pain in the back of my mouth from my wisdom teeth emerging. One night, the pain became unbearable, and I felt a popping sensation in my jaw, prompting a trip to the hospital. The hospital staff advised me to visit a dentist for X-rays, as they were unable to perform the necessary imaging.
The next day, the dentist confirmed that my wisdom teeth were impacted and recommended extraction. I scheduled an appointment for a month later to have all four teeth removed under general anesthesia. Concerned about potential changes to my facial appearance, I asked the dentist, who assured me there would be no noticeable changes.
As the surgery date approached, my bottom right and top left wisdom teeth started to poke through my gums, and I could feel the tops of them in the back corners of my mouth. On the day of the extraction, I took all the necessary precautions. In the operating room, I asked the surgeon and his assistant if the surgery would alter my facial appearance. Both dismissed my concerns, claiming it was highly unlikely and they had never heard of that before.
Before the anesthesia took effect, I questioned the need for extracting the teeth that had already erupted. The surgeon brushed off my concern and said he would explain why momentarily, and the assistant quickly administered the anesthesia while he wasn’t in the room, leaving my question unanswered. I lost consciousness before the surgeon re-entered the room.
Post-surgery, I felt disoriented which is normal. The staff asked about my well-being and quickly discharged me. Unfortunately, they failed to instruct me to keep the gauze clamped down with my teeth, resulting in a dry socket. Over the next few days, my face and jaw swelled significantly, which I understood to be normal. The bleeding stopped after an hour, but I could feel large holes where my wisdom teeth had been with no blood clot.
By the second day of recovery, my gums felt like they were closing in on themselves where my teeth once were. Contrary to what my dentist and mom had told me—that new gum and bone would fill the spaces—my gums seemed to collapse into the empty sockets, altering my breathing, posture, and profile.
My head posture shifted forward, worsening my resting posture. Breathing through my left nostril became difficult, accompanied by noises when trying to sleep. I suspect I experienced ridge resorption or a similar condition. My face appeared narrower, and it seemed like I had lost significant jaw mass.
I was prescribed Tylenol-3 for pain relief, which I took for the first four days. However, the bottom right extraction site remained painful. This was one of the teeth I questioned the necessity of removing before the surgery. It seemed the surgeon might have known it didn't need removal and that it could cause health issues. I can feel the difference in bone mass compared to before the surgery in the outer backs of my jaw and the right side looks marginally different than my left now. The change looks identical to the diagrams showing forward vs. downward growth of the maxilla.
Now, I deeply regret the decision to undergo the extraction. Being under anesthesia left me vulnerable and uninformed, and I worry about the potential damage done during the procedure. I plan to get new X-rays to assess and compare the extent of the changes and damage to my jaw but am unsure of what my next steps should be to try and fix or reverse this damage.
Before After

"Y'know why I love the internet? Because it's just like me." "Vulgar, combative, and contradictory?" "Overflowing with perversion and stupidity?" "Yes, and yes."
In 2013, Deadpool wanted a game, and gave a director at High Moon Studios his proposal written in the finest crayon he could muster. They accepted it (after being blown up following the initial rejection). As such, Deadpool finds himself trying to bring in the bounty on generic hateable villain Chance White, only for him to be rescued by the Marauders and killed by Mister Sinister. Driven by a desire for revenge (all while ignoring the X-Men and Cable's various attempts to get him to help save the world), Deadpool travels across Genosha in order to kill the supervillain.

Strength

• Kicks a large sewer grate free when said grate had just been unaffected by him sliding into it
• Sends a group of private soldiers flying back into walls with a spin kick
• Hits an explosive barrel away a distance
• Stabs through a throne and a Mister Sinister clone's neck
• Cuts off a person's head and arms
• Pushes a large block
• Pries open a large set of elevator doors by a penthouse
• Controls a mounted machine gun with one hand which most people require two to fire

Durability

Healing Factor

• After a short period of not taking damage, Deadpool's health rapidly refills to full
• His healing factor causes a person to believe that all his guards are constantly missing Deadpool with their gunfire
• Doesn't notice he's been impaled by rebar after coming conscious, and then pulls himself free
• Was once stabbed in the heart by Wolverine
• Shoots himself in the head, and comes back to consciousness later with a knife stabbed into his chest
• Falls from a Sentinel foot onto concrete, twisting his head around cutting an arm off, and he needs to stagger around to collect his arm, put it in place so it can instantly attach, before twisting his head back the right way around
• Bisected at the waist, being held in midair by his intestine and continuing to fight after falling on top of a man's head
  • Deadpool ultimately bleeds out, meeting Death, but soon recovers and gets back up
• Is torn apart and beheaded by Mister Sinister, falling unconscious, and when he wakes up his body is reattached (though the X-Men may have placed his body back together)
• Cannot get drunk

Gameplay

• Doesn't take fall damage
• Takes hits from a clone of Blockbuster, who tears up large chunks of stone or concrete ground before throwing it
• Takes hits from Arclight (who may or may not be a clone), who jump punches a large platform in a sewer to break it into the ground before doing so again to send it into freefall
• Has grenades explode by him
• Shot by a launched rocket
• Tanks electric attacks

Other

• Punched back a distance by Cable
• Fine after crashing his bike into a wall which had just launched him across Genosha
• Blasted back from an explosive shot destroying a door
• Sent flying from the explosion of a large piece of debris slamming into the tower he's on
• Walks out of a Blackbird crash which knocked out Wolverine, Rogue, and Psylocke
• Knocked back by an attack's shockwave
• Filled with electricity as he connects two large severed wires to open a door

Speed

• Aims and shoots at regular speed in a slow-mo sequence

Weapons

Deadpool is shown as owning a large range of weapons. Highlighted below are the ones he uses in-game.
Melee

• Beauroyre blades
• *Bang Lee* sais
• K-SOH 20lb. hammers
  • Can be imbued with flame as part of an attack

Firearms

• DT 1981S pistols
• Nuthals 220S submachine guns
  • Sustains a person in midair with both submachine guns firing
• Kingmaker shotguns
• Harrison PLS pulse rifles, which are strong enough to turn foes into blood smears

Explosives

• Frag grenades capable of blowing a home in the ground beneath Deadpool while bisecting him
• Carries C4, with one package blowing up the sewer ceiling, the wall to the bathroom above, and blasts a person walking away a notable distance
  • Has a lot of C4
• Rigs explosives at a game studio that he sets off from his apartment in order to convince them to make a game about him

Other

• Flashbangs
• Bear traps

Teleportation

• Can teleport short distances
  • This later gets upgraded to cover longer distances
• Teleports into a helicopter to commandeer its gun
• Brings Deadpool back to the platform he jumped off of when he falls
• Teleports around Genosha to set up a plan

Fourth Wall Awareness

Medium Awareness

• Starts the game by bombing the studio that made the game in order to have them make the game
  • Due to the game being actively developed as it's played, sections running over budget can cause Deadpool to have to go through cheaper areas for a period, such as a retro Zelda-like section
  • When a section isn't finished, he sends the developers more money so they can fix it
• Sees two achievements he earns right at the start of the game
• Receives the script for his game before editing it in crayon and showing it to the player
• Notes his controls have been reversed after his head had been twisted backwards

Object Conjuration

• Commands goons to spawn in the tutorial
• Spawns in a crate containing a bouncy castle
• Brings in a coin operated rocket for him to sadly ride while Cable monologues
• Gives himself a woman on either leg, lightning to strike his sword, and fireworks in the sky before having the credits roll
• One section is filled in front of a live studio audience, somehow

Other

• Stretches a censor bar
• Creates a bridge of thought bubbles to traverse an area
• Begs the player to get him out of Cable's boring monologue
• Uses a C4 trigger to replay the level he just went through, greatly draining the game's budget

Intelligence

• Controls Sentinel arms through loose wires
• Uses control panels at the top of a tower to shock a Mister Sinister clone, possibly play music (though this may be an aspect of the game), and ultimately destroy his plans
• At the end of the tutorial, spawns in a bouncy castle which he later falls onto alongside the person he's capturing so that he survives dropping out of the top of a skyscraper
• Has Cable assist him in modifying a Sentinel foot to launch him across Genosha
• Spray paints an X on the ground before the final battle which ends up being the location Mister Sinister stands on where he's squashed by a flying Sentinel foot
• Modifies a bike so it's rocket powered and can launch him across Genosha, then drops some C4 at a pre-set location so to knock down a Sentinel hand, propelling a crate with a greeting message and two more C4 packets onto the other side of a ravine, before that C4 explodes to knock down a statue and make a bridge for several X-Men

Other

• Cannot die
  • He can near death experiences in some circumstances, such as while bleeding out due to being bisected, but soon gets brought back to reality
• Can double jump and wall jump
• Eats through his mask
• Is capable of becoming briefly invincible with an upgrade
• The two voices in his head may not share the same knowledge as Deadpool, though they may also just be different aspects of his personality that focus on different things
• When Rogue absorbs Deadpool's healing factor, she also gains his personality, fighting ability, and the two voices from his head

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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