Fatal accident i 75 sarasota today

This is the best tl;dr I could make, original reduced by 48%. (I'm a bot)

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I've had an amazing run. I'm 51 years old and I've been actively biking in the city since I was 17. I'm fortunate to live 3 mi from my workplace and I take longer rides on weekends. And in all those years I've never had a serious accident until 10 days ago when I decided to go a bit further afield and have a leisurely bike ride in the park (Forest Park for those who live in Portland Oregon) that has a bike trail that probably hasn't had enough upkeep. Coming down a hill and round a bend I hit gravel and tried to fly through but instead tipped over landed on my right side and finally my helmet hit the ground hard and I got a concussion. For a week I've had to mostly stay off screens, slow down, and drive (ugh) to work. Today I decided to get back in the saddle. I thought I would just try biking around the city but instead of a bike ride it could be more described as a series of panic attacks. I'm extremely depressed. I was so frightened most of the time and was probably biking terribly because I was overly cautious. A park that I've been to many times that I usually fly through, lifting my self up when I hit the pavement that is buckled by tree roots, zip through the small gravel downhill and then over a hump back into the city streets.. well it was like I was geriatric and as soon as I got to the gravel part I walked the bike. I feel like Superman when he lost his powers, I feel like I've aged 20 years in one week. During the whole ride I was afraid of every little bump in the street, at places I know that I would have flown through in the past, I gingerly traversed and often just got off and walked. I called my wife for support and she offered to pick me up but I just couldn't do that and I gritted my teeth and slowly slowly wended my way towards home, an iron grip on my handlebars the whole time. Fellow cyclists what advice can you give me? Has this happened to you? Were you able to regain that flying feeling? Being a bike commuter has also a big part of my identity. People at work think I'm crazy to bike through the rainy Portland winter and I've kept telling them that they are the ones who are crazy. I feel ashamed to be walking in the building without my bike in tow. I'm not really even supposed to be looking at screens too much yet but I could use some advice or even well wishes. Excuse the long post and thank you in advance. I'm going to stay off the screen for the rest of the night but I will check in the morning.

June 3, 2023. 10:34PM Perhaps I am being a little unfair when I say that this place is Hell’s collection plate for those not wicked enough for eternal condemnation but not quite lucky enough to be born to purgatory, which is to say, I am right at home. I suppose Wylwood is my home now. As someone once told me, “You really never can go back.” Not that I ever want to go back home, though I suppose the offer is still on the table. But I am getting ahead of myself. Wylwood is one of those little towns tucked deep in the dark Appalachia forest where everyone knows every single thing about everyone else and their last twelve generations going back. Just ask any person you run across what exactly a “double first cousin” is. Of course, for the towns older women, this is treated as a matchmaking request, so please apply caution here. Wylwood is a small town, population of around 2,200, if you only count people and not the many ghouls, bears, and other large commonly thought to be extinct mammals that call this place home. The town is rather snake-like and follows along an abundant river that carves a path between steep and unforgiving hillside. Incidentally, as a traveling passenger goes by, they will notice all of the towns buildings that haven’t been burned or boarded up are located between rock and river with nearly ludicrous amounts of train track interspersed. Coal, poverty and despair are the major exports of this town. Visitors to the nearby national park are the only true imports. The town also proudly supports it’s very own emergency room, post office, and no less than three dollar stores, and one restaurant in a converted car repair garage. My name is Kate Fugate, you may call me Kate, you may call me Katie, frankly you can call me Fido for all I care. You may not call me by my birth name, and just to make myself clear, no, I’m not going to tell you, so there. I am 27, and I have recently decided that I need to start this online diary as well, this is really, really, REALLY hard for me to acknowledge. “Just accept it Kate.” My inner dialogue says. “Must I though?” I argue, “Nothing is certain, it is not set.” “Damn it, Kate.” The dialogue is much more forceful this time “It happens to EVERYONE, it has spared NONE of them, not one, and you are not special.” “Fine, but let me do this on my terms.” I concede. I, Kate Fugate, probably, though will not say for certain, have a hereditary, issue? Conundrum? The problem is, my entire hereditary line of females, probably going back to Lilith herself has had an early onset dementia with some downright weird symptoms. The great majority of them are able to “pass” as socially normal but everyone always feels something is just a bit off. Would they feel the same, I wonder if they shared a home for as long as I did? The point of this journaling is because I want to retain as much memory as possible and I want a reference point, so when or if my grasp with reality become untethered, I won’t be too adrift. Already, I feel something is very wrong with the picture. Why in one of the biggest coal producing areas is there a hydroelectric plant? You tell me. No, seriously tell me. Most of the locals are opposed to renewable energy as they feel it is a threat to their livelihood but when talking about this specific hydro plant it is considered absolutely crucial. Why is it too, that absolutely no one local would be interested in this job when it was a better option than most in the area? I was offered a very generous sign on bonus with the government after graduating with a Marine Biology degree that, after being given ton of loans, I found out was not in as much demand as the college led me to believe. The contract outlines that I must stay here for 10 years, housing will be provided, but failure to stay my term will result in “severe penalties.” “And what exactly are those penalties, Mrs. Wedgewood?” I ask to the 6ft, very stern woman across a poorly constructed desk from me. I estimate she is in her 60’s going on her 70’s. She is wearing khaki pants and a blue button down shirt and has white hair that is nearly shimmering over with a purple tint. “Listen, Miss, umm, Miss is the name your pare- “ She looked at me inquisitively before I cut her off. “Yes, yes it is. They were non traditional individuals. Just call me Kate, please.” I give her a look to hope she finds it in her to understand. “Okay, Miss Kate, listen if you are unsure about this job, my recommendation is that you don’t take it. I have seen many like you come and go. The job isn’t hard but for whatever reason, people can not handle it. It is no secret, the turnover is high, most don’t last the year. I have seen people driven mad, people have had accidents, people have -“ I cut her off again. “What do you mean, ‘went mad’ ?“ I ask. “Well, one of my men, maybe the fifth or sixth from the last one, said he seen a snake with a million eyes wink at him, then said it started shooting him with rainbows. And that when he drove off a cliff, into the river, we never recovered the body.” She replied almost flatly like this was the fifteenth time she told this story and couldn’t believe it herself. It took me a second of awe stuck silence to realized, “But wait, if he died how do you know what he saw?” “All vehicles are installed with cameras and audio equipment, for insurance of course.” She was getting tired of all my questions. “We do try and make note of unusual events and get Washington visitors to collect recordings and water samples among other things every other week. They are very invested in our operations here and you will get used to them in time. Now dear, what does your family think, it is a big move after all?” I squirmed a bit as I thought out the ‘right answer’ for these situations. “Well you see Mrs. Wedgewood, the thing is I am a, uh well, let’s go with orphan?” I sputtered out hoping she would not ask for clarification like many others have. “Well dear, I am not going to dive any deeper into that, although I am sorry for your loss, and I’ve been there many times too. We can go ahead and offer you a position as a plant operator, and we can start as early as tomorrow. The singles cabins are ready for move in today, though it isn’t much to look at.” Her dark chocolate brown eyes held a look someone gives before announcing to a plane full of passengers that the good news was that none of them would have to pay for their plane today, the bad news was they wouldn’t be the ones collecting the refund. “I’ll take the job.” I said with all of the enthusiasm I could muster as a newly installed lifer“Do you allow cats in the housing, by the way?” She gave me a big smile of slightly mismatched coffee stained teeth. “Yes, we will allow it. But can I see the little thing?” Of course, I led her to my truck. It was a black 1992 Dodge Dakota, the floor was nearly falling out of the bottom, the lining in the roof was being held up by tacks, staples, glue and pine sap. The paint was chipping off, leaving behind bare metal and rust. The gate of the bed was barely holding together by sting and barbed wire, but damn it, she was mine and to me, the most beautiful thing in the whole fucking universe for that matter. It was something of a parting gift from Todd and Ron, the last thing I would ever receive from them. I wonder if they knew that. “Here Stan, psst psst psst.” I call, as you can see a pair of eyes peeking out of under the seat. I pick him up only to be met with terrified screaming coming from Mrs. Wedgewood. “Kill it, kill it now. What even is that thing.” She said with forceful conviction. It took me two hours to convince her that Stan was probably harmless, or at least I hope he is. Hell, I had the same reaction to Stan when I first met him. You see, I was basically living out of my truck before this job. During the trip, I found several gas stations only to find that every single one either had no functioning bathroom or that they were not public bathrooms and the cashier only took payment in oaths of eternal allegiance to the muses. I didn’t have time for that nonsense, so I popped out back long enough to make friends with a tree and get back on that road. I must’ve left my door open just long enough for the little bastard to crawl in. Next thing I know, I have this overgrown buck naked rat licking the salt off my leg. After recreating a PSA on ghost drivers, me and Stan got better acquainted over some chicken salad with cranberry jelly. We then moved to the actual dam site, it was large old two story brick building approximately 12 miles out of town. The building was most likely built in the 20’s or 30’s and had a large art-deco window spanning from first to second floor. There was a large staircase going down the hill in which the under the building sat yet another level partially underground. From one side of the bottom of the stairs was a large metal sidewalk with grated floors overhanging the river, and on the other side was a path leading to the woods. We walked in silence until we stood on the grated sidewalk. “These are the output valves for the plant.” Mr. Wedgewood shouted over the sound of roaring water. This is where the water exited the hydro plant and returned to the river. We then took the path leading into the dark woods. “I’m sorry, these are somewhat inconvenient to get to, but you have to remember that they were built before cars were a common luxury.” She indicated this warmly and apologetically. I looked at the cabins, two in total. “Which one is yours?” I asked. “No, I don’t actually live here, I’m afraid. I prefer to live in town and generally my role is administrative as opposed to operations so other than a few brief visits, you will probably rarely see me around. Feel free to pick whichever cabin you like, we have no other current occupants.” Mrs. Wedgewood gestured to the cabins. After much deliberation, I chose door number two. Mrs. Wedgewood opened the door and to my utter awe I could not contain myself. “Well fry me up and call me dinner, this is something else.” Mrs. Wedgewood quickly apologized, “I know they really are not in the best condition, but you don’t have to live here if you really don’t want. You can rent or buy in town.” “No” I replied “This is perfectly sufficient, thank you.“ The cabin was only a single room with two widows, just big enough for a bathroom with a tub, a small single bed, and an old yellow armchair with pictures of wheat and a tractor. There was a fridge, oven, and small kitchen table that looked remarkably like a picnic bench. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that no only did I have no hope of renting another place, this was better than I had imagined. As she departed into the evening dusk with my promise to absolutely call her if anything happens, I settled into the cabin, I couldn’t help but rummage through some of the cabinets. “Hey Stan, look I found some cans! Looks like we are eating good tonight!” I said excitedly. Stan did not return my enthusiasm, but that is probably because he is an asshole. Oh, Shit! I never did find out exactly what happens if I try and break contract. Well, maybe next time, this is Kate, logging off.

The soldiers lined on Ardenholms beaches. Their bright, jewel encrusted armor flashed brightly in the glaring summers sun. The warriors were eager to get on with their game of conquering and subjugating. They were Ardenholmites, Humilauians, and Pommedorans, as well as Tuberite religious warriors hailing from Solanum. They were gathered in Ardenholm to prepare for an imminent invasion from Veritas and their leader, BB.
Ardenholm, Humilau and especially Pommedora were in open rebellion from BB. They thought of him as a tyrannical leader, levying heavy taxes and other unreasonable demands. They finally decided to declare themselves separate from BB, but the turmoil quickly devolved into a fight for control of the entire island chain.
Pommedora was a Tuberist nation, so they called upon their Solanarian brothers to help the fight. The Tuberists, thinking it would be an easy battle, happily joined in.
As the Tuberites made the short voyage to Pommedora, tensions arose. There was an attempt to reestablish diplomatic relations which quickly broke down, resulting in a raid from Veritas on Pommedora, their closest neighbor.
The Tuberites arrived far too late to join the fray, but fortunately the raid was mostly scared off before any real fighting could occur, and the casualties were 6 in Pommedora, after a single arrow barrage and 8 Veritasian raiders who brought their boat too close to the walls and were sunk by a well placed explosive firework.
Thus began an alarmingly fast arms race. Both sides were on islands, so a full force invasion was not viable…yet. Seemingly overnight the once windswept and backwater islands in rebellion turned to industry. The once salty and warm air choked with the smoke from the flames of fires roaring in their mighty hearths. Peaceful and sunny harbors because overrun with heavy bots of war.
Veritas kept pace with the industrial might and the islands were equal in strength. Both bought mercenaries to fight, but Veritas gained a significant upper hand by taking a hefty loan from bankers overseas and buying much better metals than could ever be reaped from the earth on the barren island chain.
Finally the mines were depleted of what little resources they could muster. Though bright earthen metals were occasionally still warm from being melted and pounded into their molds.
With no more brawn games to play, both sides made a quick shift to mind games. Spies. Spies everywhere. In the streets. In the factories. In the harbors. Everywhere. Private conversations became public knowledge overnight. The town square of Ardenholm ran red with the blood of those suspected of treason.
Next came the starvation. The already small fields had been neglected because the farmers had been made to become factory workers. This time, the rebellion got the upper hand, with the Tuberists providing food from their vast fields back in Solanaria. Veritas attempted a naval blockade to stop the shipment of food from arriving. The Tuberists didn’t slow down. The naval commander ordered them to hold. The Tuberists, already very near to the maximum pace, almost appeared to speed up. Finally they stopped just outside of cannon range. They waited in a locked stalemate for 3 days until the Veritasians ran out of water and were forced to return to port. Thus, they spent the winter on meager rations and had to sell some of their newly bought steel to pay for food.
Finally, after a long and cold winter of light eating and intense stare-offs, the spring blossomed in the remaining fields.
The Veritasians had survived the winter by the skin of their teeth and knew that they could not survive another winter. This years winter had been astoundingly warm (by West Phagosian standards). In fact, this was the warmest winter ever recorded.
Over on Pommedora, which at this point had been established as the capital, the situation was almost as grim. The Tuberists, who were creeping up on a years time spent on an island were becoming increasingly obstinate and downright treasonous. They longed to go back to their homeland, and run on green fields, with gently rolling hills bordered by lush, fertile marshes, encased by the great mountains far to the west, just where the eye could see them. They downright despised the cramped island.
Tensions were starting to boil over on all sides of the war, until finally the spy game did its job. The Pommedorans received definitive proof that the Veritasians would be sailing for a “surprise” attack on Ardenholm in one months time. This was the break they needed and with this knowledge they could easily win the war.
Under the cover of darkness they began to very slowly and methodically ship soldier to Ardenholm. They arrived on mail boats and pleasure crafts, in wine barrels and tiny crude rafts. Simultaneously, these same craft evacuated the women and children, bringing them safely to Pommedora.
Then, the day before the battle, an idea was had. It was decided that instead of defending the city they should go on the offensive while the opposing military was away. The idea was they would go quickly to Veritas and slay BB, and then swiftly bring his head back over to Ardenholm where his army, seeing that they had nothing to fight for, would surrender.
There were problems with this plan, though. The entire army was already on Ardenholm, and Pommedora was still the closest island to Veritas, so it would make no sense to keep an army anywhere but there. Also, the ships would probably sail right by each other on their way to conquer their respective islands.
“None the matter with these details” said the commanders, “This plan is too good to pass up.”
And thus we pick up where we started, with the solders, armed to the teeth, sitting in the early morning sun, waiting for their boats to take them to Veritas.
They boarded and set off. 1/10 of the army was left behind to There was nothing but excitement as they lost sight of the shore. The soldiers were tremendously confident in their plan.
The boats sailed for 38 minutes without interruption.
Suddenly, a lookout sounded their horn. The soldiers instantaneously switched from their excited and eager chatter to silence as they looked on the horizon, expecting to see a fleet of opposing ships.
Instead they saw a tiny island. Barely even an island. More like a sad sandbar. The entire island was completely covered in Veritasian troops. They were all standing on the island, their bodies facing the fleet. They were all watching the fleet sail by.
All wielded a dull blue trident, the color of cold and drear ocean
Then one, the commander most likely, stepped forth and walked slowly to the edge of the shore, about 10 feet. He stopped at the edge and dipped the pronged fork of his trident into the water
Not a single eye strayed from his trident as it leapt to life. It’s dull and sad color replaced by an electric blue. The blue started from where the water touched the prongs and snaked down the trident at a decently fast pace.
Then he did the most unexpected thing of all, and fell face first into the water. All eyes remained on where he fell. The seconds ticked by. 15. 30. 60. 90. Was he dead? 120. Then at 133 exactly he sprang from the water. His right hand clamped so tightly around his trident his knuckles were bleached like dead coral. He sailed 50 meters in the air, well above the masts of the boats, and about 150 meters towards the boats.
Then his army all seemingly sprang to life and walked swiftly to the waters edge. It was a trap! They didn’t pause for dramatic effect like he did, diving headfirst into the water and sailing through the air with almost no delay.
The archers attempted to ready their bows but the boats were already packed tight with men, horses, cannons, and all sorts of equipment of war.
The tridenteers sprang forth and plunged into the ocean like rain. A hundred a twenty, they numbered. They rapidly began closing the distance. The archers pulled back their bows and waited for them to get into firing range. They quickly closed in. Finally, they were in shooting distance and they fired. None of the shots struck. In fact, none even came close. The soldiers were simply too small to hit accurately, especially from a rocking boat.
The tridenteers then passed overhead, and did the most unexpected thing of all. A few reached into their pouches and pulled out a single gray stick about the size of a baton. They then dropped them.
All of the tridenteers possessed 8 of these sticks, so most waited until they had clear shots to drop. A few thought they did right then, and threw their sticks towards the ships.
All except one missed. It was tremendously hard to fire accurately while trying to dodge projectiles.
The one that didn’t miss sailed down, down, down until it landed barely on the port side of a medium sized Humilauian cruiser. The wood of the boat was no match for the explosion that rang out. The front port side was torn. The water spout produced from the explosion went 15 meters into the air.
The ship sank in 2 minutes.
Immediately it’s neighboring boats turned sharply to rescue the screaming survivors. The tridenteers passed about a kilometer away from the boats before veering to the left and turning to made another pass.
The ships were thoroughly spooked, and most moved to do evasive maneuvers.
Suddenly, three powerful horn blasts rang out. This was the sign to press forth. The ships readjusted course to fan out, but 9 blasts rang out, the sign to stick together.
A second pass was made with 2 ships sunk. Another pass was made, but no ships were sunk. Than another with no ships. Another with 1. Another with 1. Another with none. This continued until 87 passes were made. There were 137 boats in total at the beginning, 7 large, 38 medium and 94 small. 93 remained. There were 4 large boats remaining (the 3 that were sunk had been sunk at the very beginning), 15 medium boats, and 75 small boats. Almost all of the surviving medium and large boats had tied themselves together with rope and formed a sort of floating pontoon. This greatest increased the sailing time, and a journey of 3 hours took 6.
Not all of the ships that were lost had sunk. Of the 19 small boats that were not present in the final fleet, only 2 had actually been sunk.
There had been a sort of mutiny aboard some of the smaller boats after the 8th pass. 2 of the 7 large boats had been hit and were sinking and the situation was looking very dire. In the rear, 9 of the small boats and 8 of the medium boats (the medium boats were the very end of the fleet) all mutinied against their captains, with three being stabbed to death and one being cast into the sea and turned around back to Ardenholm. Watching them sail away nearly caused the entire fleet to break apart but they were guided by a common foe.
A few of the boats lagged behind. 4 medium boats couldn’t keep pace due to being non-fatally struck and turned around. The tridenteers were more given orders to at least damage the ships heavily enough to force them to turn around, so they allowed those ships to flee.
3 small ships, in an interesting turn of fate, were nearest to the islands when the bombing started. They were the ones who had sounded the alarm. The tridenteers had passed over them entirely without dropping a single bomb. They were still horrified watching the preliminary carnage before the ships could form up, and decided to run themselves around on the tiny island the Veritasians had started out in.
They hid under the 6 palm trees for 8 days, not knowing anything about the status of any of the nations. They survived by eating the horses they had brought and drinking the wine they had brought which they were going to celebrate with once the island was conquered.
Finally, after 6 hours, the boats sighted Veritas. The midday sun was high in the air and the archers could not see the trident weilders through the sun, accelerating their losses.
Veritas looked abandoned. The alarm has been raised but very few troops were on the walls, looking very frightened.
The soldiers let out a halfhearted cheer upon laying eyes on the island. The Veritasian tridents veered right after the fleet made their way into the smooth natural harbor.
The tridenteers had only lost 11. 7 from lucky bow shots, 3 from the binding from their wrists to their tridents slipping off, and 1 stupid soldier who tried to land on a small boat and was instantly slain.
The boats neared the docks of Veritas. The harbor wasn’t much of a harbor at all, only having a narrow wave-break sandspit that only extended past a third of the docks.
The boats made passes towards the docks, with some soldiers being so desperate to get off of them they leaped from the boats and swam to shore.
The boats all started to unload as normal, with horses being placed on the shore and equipment to breach the great gate of Veritas being unloaded
Suddenly the great gate of Veritas, which was expected to be a large obstacle swung open and half of Veritas’s army (still a formidable number mind you) roared forth, banging their shields and sprinted at the unprepared rebels.
This was not expected at all, and no precautions for this had been taken. The rebels on the beach all turned to run back to the boats when, alas! The tridenteers reappeared from out of nowhere behind the boats. They hurtled towards the boats, flying much more recklessly now, and dropped their bombs. The boats were not moving this time, and 8 were struck.
In the same run, 47 of the tridenteers dropped their explosives on top of the docks, blowing all except two up.
This mostly stranded the peoples on the shore, whose only option now was the rowboats from the large ships. Some ran towards those but right then the charging army from the gates slammed into those on the shore.
18 rowboats were cast off, from the beach and the rest were not able to. The battle for the beach was a terrible situation for the rebels with them being completely pinned against the sea.
1/6 of the seaborn army was slain and 1/6 of the army surrendered on the beach, totaling 1/3 of invasion, or exactly 642 men.
The boats tried to leave the harbor but all tried to leave at once and a few collisions occurred. The boats that made it out were harassed by the tridenteers the entire time.
To top it off, the winds were blowing in an awful direction and most of the boats were blown far to the right. They nearly crashed into an walled peninsula. The horn of orders was silent because the ship they were on had taken a direct hit and was rapidly sinking.
Due to the lack of orders, all ships had their own idea of what to do. Most of them thought that the wind was far too unfavorable to set into open water so decided to land on the peninsula. About 1/3 decided to try the winds and sailed in various directions to various islands. This time, the tridenteers could harass them all they wanted and most would not get far.
Those who landed on the peninsula were met with an immediate problem. Unloading. Most of the men jumped overboard to swim to shore and some ships went completely unmanned before being either sunk or captured by the opposing force.
There was one final factor that was at play. The peninsula itself. It was very long and narrow. So narrow that a tridenteer could safely jump all the way over it without being dashed apart on the rocks.
A single tridenteer sprang fourth. Their bright blue trident electric against the sky, which was growing progressively cloudier. They reached into their pocket and pulled out one of the sticks. They lazily let it go before safely landing in the water on the other side.
They didn’t even have to aim. It exploded on the peninsula and some were caught in the blast.
The other tridenteers followed suit. There were only 26 archers still armed as almost all of them had either abandoned their gear or were weighed down by it trying to swim over and drowned.
The entire peninsula was scourged. The walls extended to the beach on either side, and the coast became far too treacherous and rocky to swim around.
40% of the entire army was slain on the peninsula. A further 20% (of the men on the peninsula) surrendered and only 19 men escaped. 9 on a rowboat that was let go because of its irrelevance and 10 somehow survived the swim around the walls and ran up the island before stealing a sailboat and escaping.
Those that turned around and fled immediately suffered casualties, but not to the scale of this. About 5% of the army died on the sail back from getting picked off. Most of the tridenteers ran out of ammunition.
A grand total of 67% of the army perished in this advancement. A further 14% surrendered and of those, 1% died in prison from disease or starvation. 1,531 men in total lost their lives.
As for the boats, of the ones that made it to Veritas, none of the large ships survived, 4 of the medium ships made it back (2 were captured, 9 sank) and 29 of the small ships made it back (38 sunk, 8 captured). Of the 18 rowboats that were on the beach during the initial beach attack, 15 landed on the peninsula, with the other three rowing all the way to Pommedora.
Those that escaped ended up on all manner of islands in the surrounding area. One boat drifted with only one man on board for 8 days. He too survived off of horseflesh but also was lucky enough to get rainwater.
The other half of Veritas’s army had taken a longer route to Ardenholm. Ardenholm somehow managed to pull off an astonishing victory, despite being outnumbered 5-1. They were helped by the crew that had mutinied initially. They made use of their thick walls and used a turtle strategy to wait for help, until after 24 hours when they realized that something had gone seriously wrong, when they then went on a sudden offensive, catching the Veritasian army completely by surprise because they had grown used to not being shot at.
The Ardenholm fighters used bows and a ridiculously large pile of arrows to shoot at the invaders non-stop until they finally gave up and went home. They were significantly hampered by not having the other half of their army. Both sides suffered relatively minor casualties, with Ardenholm losing 19 men and Veritas losing exactly 100.
Veritas lost 48 of their 120 tridenters, with the vast majority being lost by flying too close to the boats and being shot with arrows. Their armor suffered a loss total of 329.
This defeat left the rebels in shock. Their entire standing army had been effectively wiped out. They would start having to recruit younger men and paying more for mercenaries.
The Tuberists had taken the highest casualty rate, with an unimaginable 80% casualty rate and 16% captured. Only 4%, or just 16 men on one small boat, managed to make it back. When the elder potatoes learned about this, they were understandably shocked and devastated and justifiably withdrew all future support. They claimed that the Tuberites had been used as cannon fodder and that that was an stupidly high casualty rate for a defensive mission. They had lost every single one of their ranking officers they had sent on that mission and demanded insanely high rates of compensation. It wasn’t until the battle was thoroughly explained and they were promised that all the islands would convert to Tuberism that they agreed to help once more.
The defeat would likely turn the tide in Veritas’s favor unless the rebels had an ace up their sleeves…
And that is the story of one of the worst strategical blunders in Stoneworks history.
This story is based around the truth. Ardenholm was indeed attacked by Veritas and BB after rebelling with Pommedora and Humilau. The Tuberists did indeed help out for religious reasons. There was indeed a failed charge counterattack which was poorly planned and the casualty numbers are accurate if you combine the dead and captured and just consider them all dead. The Veritasians did indeed use tridents to pick most of us off, and I myself died. This would have easily cost us the battle as we lost 80% of our total gear and didn’t really have enough time to make a proper repot. We used the good old 0-armor-stone-axe-rush strategy and only won because they placed capture points underwater which is illegal. So yeah the next battle is in a week (I think) and we have a LOT of grinding to do haha.
Also Stoney hmu if you ever want any scriptwriting help. I love to do this.
If you read this far um gg I guess
- lnedible

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If I were to guess, I’d imagine they took Andrew to Boss Harold before anyone else and the rumors around Golgotha seemed to support this supposition; the Bosses enjoyed their personal retribution away from the eyes of citizens, maybe it was talking or maybe more, and although there were whispers of the boy being strung up on the wall or maybe he’d be violated in the stocks for all to see, I imagined that the council I held with Boss Harold might’ve had something to do with that never materializing. When I was allowed to the boy’s cell, it was dark, and his face was bruised and the bandaging I’d applied to his severed wrist had been removed probably for amusement. The room was small and there were no windows and only a single doorway let out into the hallway which contained other cells and further, near the exit, there was the office of wall men. The guard that’d let me in locked the door behind me and Andrew sat on a metallic cot without cushioning, and he stared at the grimy floor through swollen eyes.
“Hello,” he said. And I was taken aback by the comment because he spoke it as quickly as he might passing a person in the street. He'd been through so much that the word was abrupt, skittish. I nodded and moved to him, reaching for his arm where he’d been nearly fatally wounded. It was infected. Without fighting me, he allowed me to tend to it without even a question; I wiped it and applied salve. Once it was cleaned and rewrapped and only after I’d settled on the cot beside him, he spoke again, “I heard stories about the cells, but I never thought they’d smell.”
I withdrew a handful of antibiotics, and he took them without putting them to his mouth. “You should have them,” I said, “You might lose the whole arm if not.”
“I might lose my life.”
“Maybe not,” I offered a grim smile and water with for the pills. “You’re alive still.”
“How much longer though?” He took the medicine and grimaced hard. The boy looked older than he was. “It smells like blood here. I can smell the people that’ve been here before.”
I patted him on the back and removed myself from the cell and he did not call after me, not even to ask for the return of his hand and I hoped that I could stave off whatever tortures the Bosses might have in store for him.
It’d been two days since I’d returned with Dave and Andrew and quickly after our arrival, I’d tried departing from the man and hoped he’d drop whatever revenge he believed I could assist him with, but it was to no avail for he attended everywhere with me since our return to Golgotha. Although he’d not been allowed to enter the cells alongside me, he was waiting for me outside as I stepped through the wall men’s office and into the noonday sun; I deftly plucked a pre-rolled cigarette from my pocket and tried at lighting it but before I’d even gotten the chance, he was there at the stoop of the office, pestering, “We should go somewhere quiet,” he said.
“What do you take me for exactly?” I asked while maintaining eye contact with the flame off a match.
“You’re capable enough. You could be a hero. I’d do it with you. We could scrounge up a handful of people and change things. We really could.” Dave was casting sidelong glances at those that passed us in the dirt street just off the stoop, but nary one seemed to care about our conversation.
“Leave it.”
“I won’t.”
I sighed.
He put a hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off.
Felina’s was a structure partially built from ancient shipping containers directly in the heart of the hydroponics towers in the center of town; the chicken shit smell from the base of the towers came with nauseating stagnation and could make a passerby sick, but upon entering Felina’s, the smell subsided and was replaced with the smell of body sweat. The older barwoman stood behind the counter and me and Dave took up on the far corner where we sat around an old card table, using crates as chairs; no one else was there—the smell of the hydro towers probably had some hand in that.
Dave took in close to me so that I could feel the moisture off his breath, “I’ve been talking to a few others over at the towers and they feel the same way I feel—but with you—well without you I don’t think I’d want to do it.”
“No, please go on without me,” I slanted my body across the table to push my face away from Dave’s; with me positioned with my back against the wall, I spied Felina beyond the counter, arms across her chest and watching us with an air of suspicion. She came to our table, slowly with her club foot and upon reaching us, she used our table for mild support with her big hands and greeted us without excitement.
Dave asked for water and her gaze shifted to me and I dismissed her, and we were alone till she limped back over with a pitcher and glass and Dave drank it greedily while Felina watched on from beyond the counter—her eyes suspicious but pretty blue too. She kept the haft from a dismembered axe behind the counter and was known to throttle unruly patrons with it.
Although some might have called Felina’s a bar, it was just short of it because of the rarity of spirits—besides, it was the upstairs brothel portion that the establishment owed to its popularity. Anyone might brave the smell from the street for companionship and if the noises from the rusted overhead support beams were anything to measure, the clientele was content indeed. A man descended from the stairs by the bar, gave a brief nod to Felina then to us and disappeared through the front door; a waft of the outside air rushed in, and Dave scrunched his nose.
“It’s a funny thing, I’ve passed by here all the time, but I don’t think I’ve been inside since before—” he paused, “Well, since before anyway.” He took a drink of water and rubbed his palms against his cheeks. “I know someone that works underground and could get us some gunpowder.”
I merely laughed at this. “Gunpowder, huh?”
“Well sure. The Bosses have reserves in the basements. We could blow them sky high.”
“More likely that you’d blow your hands off.”
“What’s it going to take to convince you?”
I thought, “Could you promise no one would die?”
Dave seemed baffled at the question. “Who cares?”
“These things hardly ever happen quietly—or without collateral. How’s this? Could you promise that no innocents get caught in stray fire?”
“Yes.”
“Then you are as ill prepared as I’d imagined.”
“What’s that mean?”
“The meek are intended to inherit, but many will die before all that.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I wish you’d leave it be.”
Another patron stumbled down the stairs, a scrawny tall man with a thin beard came charging into the chamber without clothes and a voice followed him, crying loudly, “Sonofabitch tried choking me!” A pair of arms and legs came stumbling down after—the source of the cries. There was a topless woman, a belt secured around one of her wrists and a pink mark around her throat. The naked man protested and put up his hands as the woman swung the arm with the belt and whipped at him with it, striking across the forearm he’d shielded himself with.
Felina moved carefully from around the counter, raised the haft, then brought it down across the man’s back. He stumbled to his knees, pleading. The barwoman raised the weapon once more and the sound was like wood against wood as it met the man’s head and his body was taken to the ground completely, perhaps dead, perhaps unconscious. The two women lifted the man out the door and Felina spat through the opening. Outside wind came again and Dave scrunched his nose once more before the door shut. The topless woman removed the belt from around her wrist, tossed it to the floor, then secured an arm across her chest before hurrying upstairs.
“So, gunpowder?” I asked Dave.
He nodded and took another drink of water while eyeing Felina as she took herself back to the counter and stowed the makeshift club into whatever place she kept it. “Yeah.”
“Go for it then and leave me out of it.” I fiddled with my thumbs across the table. “I’ll even make you a deal for when you come running to me for help later. If you blow your fingers off, I’ll try and help you find them. How’s about that?”
“I’ll wear you down.”
Another gust of wind came from the far door and I half expected to see the man that’d been removed there in the doorway, standing on his feet and ready for another round of punishment, but there was no one there in the hollow spot; as my gaze drifted from person-face level, I saw a medium sized mutt there in gray fur, pushing the door in with its nose and then sliding the rest of its starved body through—each of its yellowy sad eyes peered in and I could not tell the breed but Dave lifted himself from his seat and Felina went to the dog too.
“No dogs,” stated the woman.
Dave, the indomitable sweetheart that he was knelt to the dog’s face and touched its snout; it licked his hand and Dave said to Felina, “He’s not mine, but have you got some water for him?”
“No dogs inside. I don’t like repeating it.”
“Fair enough,” said Dave, “I don’t know who he—” he froze and then examined the rear of the dog before petting the dog on the head, “She belongs to, but I’ll take her outside. Just. Please some water, won’t you?”
The barwoman first drummed her fingers against her leg then went to the counter and I noticed Dave flinch as she reached under there, but she came back with a bowl and he took it and ushered the dog out; as he exited, he called to me, and I sighed and moved with him.
Remaining in the street was the man that’d been tossed out, face up, half-opened eyes, and flies buzzed about, and I touched him with my foot, but he didn’t move. Blood leaked from his ears. “Dead,” I said.
Dave took the dog from the body around to the side of the building and the feces smell was strong with the hydro towers, but he sat the water down and the dog went at it quickly, without restraint and spilt half before the man went to steady it with his hand; he knelt by the dog and pushed a shoulder against the wall of the brothel.
“There you go,” I told him, “You’ve found someone dumb enough and maybe loyal enough to follow through with your little gunpowder plan. Strap a handful of dynamite to him and watch him go boom in the Boss’s faces.” I genuinely did try it as a joke.
“You can be very mean,” said Dave.
Once the bowl was dry besides dog spit, he returned it to Felina, reentering briefly, and it was just me and the dog and the dog looked up at me and I turned away while its voice whined in the back of its throat and I took a piece of hardtack from my pocket and tossed it on the ground—the dog went after it, assuredly snapping up dirt in the process. Then the creature made a dry and throaty sound from swallowing too quickly, but moments after the thick cracker was gone. It licked my hand gently, and I scratched its chin and Dave returned and upon seeing me with the dog, he gave me a look and then brought himself to the height of the dog in a hunker.
“Hey there,” he said to it, “Someone’s beat you up pretty bad, huh?” It was true; scars stood out in places where the dog had no fur.
In response, the weathered mutt hoisted its forepaws onto his knees and pushed its nose into his.
“Yeah, girl,” he took one of the dog’s ears between his forefinger and thumb and rubbed it gently and the animal looked up, sad eyed, “What’s a good name for you?”
“Dog-meat?” I proposed.
Dave shook his head. “What sort of sick joke is that?” but he was smiling, “No. I’ll come up with something to call her. Isn’t that right?” He asked the dog, massaging the face of the animal with his thumbs; the dog stared dumbly at him. “Maybe a Beth or a Patty might suit you. How do you like them?”
The dog licked his face but couldn’t speak.
“Well,” I said, “It’s a shame it got you, you’ll pick a person name for it and that’s strange. Why not call her Mary if you want a person name?”
“Bah,” said Dave, rising to a full stand; momentarily, even with the other folks passing us in the street, he took a moment to see the dead man we’d passed on our way out of Felina’s and for a moment he remained quiet. “I’ll come to you again Harlan. Maybe when I’ve got more of a plan. I only hope you’ll listen to the stuff I’ve said about it. I really do. I really hope you’ll be on the right side of this thing.”
“Sides are overrated.”
Dave put a hand on my shoulder, “Of course,” he nodded, “Whatever you say.”
He left with his new friend—the dog following him traced from left to right close behind Dave and I watched him take off and around the nearest hydro tower and I was alone on the street and evening wouldn’t be far away, so I took to home while staring at my moving feet and speaking to no one. A few people along the way tried nodding at me or saying a small greeting here or there, but I was absorbed in my own head, and nothing took me from it once I got going. Maybe that was one of the reasons I enjoyed the wastes; there were no pretenses out there and with the constant thought of death there was no other thing to think about than each passing moment. I could not shut my thoughts up. I could ramble more about the motivations of a scavver, but I don’t think I should—leave that for someone that cares.
Upon taking the catwalks where I could look out on a swatch of Golgotha with the sun beating down and the constant hum of people going about their business, I was frozen on the railing and wishing I’d taken my own life and wishing that Dave had not found me out there; maybe if I was faster or smarter or better in whatever way that mattered.
I pushed into the door into my small abode and cool blood pushed through my body on seeing the robed girl there on my mattress, holding a shotgun with its barrel angled directly at me; she donned a flowy mess of dresses and kept her head wrapped in garb so that only her eyes shone through, but her arms stuck from the mess of cloth and I could see they were skinny with long scab marks like a blade had drawn across the flesh.
“Harlan?” asked the girl.
“Is that mine?” I nodded at the pump-shotgun in her hands. The slowness of the world was gone, and I could think again; if things were different, I’d have been a dead man, but it was unloaded, and I knew it.
“It was hanging on the wall—I don’t know how to use the thing anyway. I don’t know what I was doing with it,” she said, “You just scared me, and I didn’t know who you might’ve been.”
“This is my place.”
She laid the shotgun on the bed and unwrapped her face; it was Gemma, “You were with Andrew.”
“I was.”
“You said he was dead.”
I brought in air slowly through my nose. “I did.”
“You lied.”
I nodded, letting the air come out.
“Why?”
“I needed to find you.”
“But you found us both then, I guess.”
“Not on purpose.” A thought occurred to me, “Does you father know where you are right now?”
She shook her head; although rest had done her good, there was still a fair amount of fatigue present on her. “I snuck out.”
“Would’a though you learned your lesson on that front.”
“Is Andrew okay? No one will tell me anything about it.”
“He’s locked up right now, but he is alive. For how long? I don’t know. I figured your pop paid a visit to him already—wouldn’t you know about that?”
She shook her head again. “Woo,” Gemma slumped onto the side of my mattress and gathered the robes around her, “I’m feeling faint.”
I moved to the bed and gathered the shotgun, putting it back on the hooks in the wall. “You shouldn’t break into people’s homes.”
Cupping her brow in a hand so that I could only see her mouth and the bottom of her nose, she said, “I just needed to know he was alive. These past days I’ve been so worried about him. I knew you told me he was dead, but I knew you were a liar too. So, I had bad thoughts about what might’ve happened to him out there. If what happened to me was anything to go off.” Her voice broke for a moment and then she pulled her hand from her face and blinked a few sudden times. “I just.”
“I get it. You love the boy.”
She nodded without looking at me.
“So, beg your dad to let him go.”
“Everyone’s so mad at him. It’s funny that everyone’s so mad at him, but it was my idea, and they all treat me like a darling little flower. Like I couldn’t have been the one with the idea of running away. I had more reason to run than he ever did.”
“You should leave.”
“I don’t want to. Can’t you see that’s what I’ve been saying? Judge all you like. Call me rich all you like, but I can tell you this: I don’t feel like it.” Gemma grabbed the edge of the bed as her head wavered on her shoulders. “Dizzy spells are awful.” She shook her head. “Like no sickness ever.” Her eyes locked on mine. “Help me.”
“I’ve already tried convincing them not to kill him.” Taking a pause, I thought to add, “And I personally saw to his injuries. Please go and leave me be.”
“Oh, but you’ve asked for it,” she said, “You put yourself in the business of it.”
“Look. All’s I wanted was to save you if I could and get the water running again. That’s it. Now go.” I put my arm up to wave her out the door and she stood to make her way there, catching herself on the frame, then out on the catwalk railing before turning and looking at me over her shoulder.
“Bastard.” she said.
“Yes.” The door shut between us, and I took myself to sitting on the bed’s edge and reminiscing over how Dave reminded me so much of Jackson. Jackson was a real tough one; whatever happened he always kept a cool head (so I reckon him and Dave would be different in that way) and the idea of being a hero was so big for him. It’s a curious thought: whether Dave would have such ideas if hadn’t been for the tragic loss of his family.
The shotgun sat on there on the wall, and I took it and looked over it, putting the stock in my left hand then my right and laid it across my legs; the woven strap on it had gone thin so that the place I’d once worn it over my shoulder was mostly threadbare. I moved to the cabinet by the sink where I kept a few essentials and in the very back there was an old box of shells—it was a surprise they still seemed good, but with old ammo you never could tell, and the shells were just as likely to fire true as they might be to never send pellets from the barrel. I took a knife and began whittling into a shell I’d plucked from the box. Pellets spilled between my feet as I sat on the bed and they rolled across the floor and then I found the gunpowder and rose again, sprinkling it onto the cabinet top into a neat pile. Dave said he had a fella’ he knew that worked in the underground—the sort of person that could get him all the gunpowder he needed. Was he familiar with its destructive force; had he ever fired a gun? He promised me no one innocent would die and I knew that was a lie and there’s surely a piece of him that knew it was a lie just as well.
It was just then as I took a forefinger and thumb and pinched up a bit from the gunpowder splat that I remembered a thing that Jackson told me all the time when he thought none of the others were listening. The gunpowder rained from my fingertips as I rubbed them together and I sniffed the place where they’d become sooty, taking in a smell I’d not smelled in a long time. Jackson would say, “Whoever fights monsters should be sure that he don’t become a monster.” It wouldn’t be for a long time—after I’d visited the libraries in Alexandria or Babylon (take your preference)—till I realized it was a quote that Jackson stole from some guy named Neet-chee. It seemed like a good thing to adhere to, and it was certainly something I wasn’t good at keeping with and if I couldn’t then there was little certainty that Dave would keep to it either. Maybe I had become a monster; morally dubious anyway.
Jackson was a hero, and he was dead as was Sibylle as was Billy as was John and all of them. We’d tried heroing and it got all of us dead. Almost all of us.
I hung the shotgun on the wall and left it there and swept the gunpowder into the floor with a flat palm where the pellets were and chucked the box of old shells into the cabinet again.
Ringing of bells came from the hall of the Bosses and it was time for a display. Denizens gathered in the front square by the gates and awaited while they trotted out Andrew; perhaps the words I’d passed to Boss Harold rang hollow after all. The Bosses were there just as always, drinking their wine on the platform, and Maron was out front with his wall men in the semicircle of gathered Golgotha residents. Of the population, only a hundred or two gathered for this poor boy’s execution. The guards had, at some point after my departure, removed the bandage on his empty wrist and he looked more sickly in the face than before and his cheeks were swollen and he wept, seemingly not from the terror of it but from the skin around his eyes having been so damaged; tears came through swelled eyelids and a wall man kept him by the elbow and Maron marched to the boy and lifted the boy’s face with his hand to look into it and maybe he whispered something to him.
I weaved through the crowd, moving to the steps that led to the stage where the Bosses stood with their foods and wines and their plenty and upon approach, I was stopped by a wall men, but upon catching Boss Harold’s eye, he told the guard to let me through and I took the stairs and from the platform, I could see over the crowd—Dave was far in the rear of those gathered, totally disconnected from the others for he hunkered by a set of crates, patting the head of the dog we’d found just earlier in the day. For a moment, I wished I was there with him and not on the stage at all.
“Dear boy!” Boss Harold shouted at me over the excited jeers of the others, “It’s so good to see you again. You are quite the hero, and it’s always good to be in the company of those.”
I nodded at him and within a flash, he’d slammed his cup of wine into my hand, telling me to drink, and only moments passed before his own cup was replaced by a nearby servant. “We spoke about this?” I tried.
His face was red, and I could just make out the miniscule veins vibrant along the corners of his nose; the man was far gone drunk. “That boy’s been a thorn in my side for too long, so I know you understand it when I say that he needs punishment. I took all that you said into account,” his words slurred, and the sweet sick came off him in a breath of hot air when he pulled me in, resting his ear on my shoulder. “Nobody dies today, but ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’,” the Boss paused. “You’re not a father yourself, are you?”
I shook my head.
“Ah! Then you might not be familiar with that proverb required in bringing a child up in this world.” Boss Harold laughed. “I’d never take my sweet Gemma out in the square like this, but God there’s been times I’ve wanted it. ‘Spare the rod’.” He repeated. “But we’ve something a fair bit more interesting than a rod for that boy.” Boss Harold swayed on his feet and took the fist containing his cup of wine, pointing with his index finger at the open place by the wall where Maron and Andrew and the wall men were. “Speaking of!” Boss Harold was giddy, and he took a magnificent gulp from his cup, throwing his head far back. “You’re a learned man, yes?”
“What?”
“You know how to read? Maron said something about your reading. That’s a rare quality! I’d love to talk about books with you sometime. I’ve my own personal collection.”
The wall men stripped Andrew of his clothes then threw them to the ground and a gasp escaped the audience and the boy shouted and Maron moved to a nearby bucket and reached into the mouth of the container, coming back to a full stand; a whip was coiled around his arm. The Bosses didn’t even look on. The punishment was for the benefit of Boss Harold, and not even he looked on. He jabbered on about how he’d like to speak with me over an old philosophy called Objectivism then he went on about how he’d learned long ago the greatest achievement of man was his own happiness and I listened to the drunk man and when the whip broke skin the first time, I’m sure Andrew felt every bit.
Blood exploded in violent dew off his back and the crack of the whip struck the boy till he couldn’t stand and then several times more. Splatter reached onlookers each time Maron lifted the whip over his head, and it was only once the boy stopped moving that the Boss Sheriff swaggered over to inspect him; Andrew had fallen face down and Maron took his boot to the boy’s side so that the boy rolled onto his back and seconds passed without movement and even Boss Harold quit with his talking. The prone body just lay there and for a moment Andrew looked like the body I’d seen earlier out front of Felina’s. Then the boy spasmed and gasped air and Maron shouted about how he was still alive before giving the toe of his boot to Andrew’s ribs.
“What a show,” said the Bosses—what a show indeed.
The crowd dispersed in clumps, taking back to their jobs or leisure and I left the platform only after agreeing that Objectivism sounded good and Boss Harold laughed and stumbled in pivoting to take on in conversation with the other Bosses and I briefly imagined giving him a nudge, so he’d fall off the stage, but refrained from doing so.
When I met the boy lying in the dirt there, there was me and Dave moved in too and Maron had taken to his station where there was a table by sandbags, and he was engrossed in a game of solitaire; it seemed the man was totally unfazed by the justice he’d dealt. There was a time when that body could’ve been a hero and yet there he was, poisoned.
I called out to the Boss Sheriff, “Ain’t you going to put him back to his cell?”
Without even looking over, Maron swept his mustache with his fingers and waved me off, “Harold was real clear on letting the boy out of custody once it was done.” He lifted his cowboy hat and scratched his head while looking at the cards on the table then he laughed. “He’s a free man. I’ve heard that was your meddlin’ that did it.”
I moved to the boy and snatched up the clothes they ripped from him and Dave, not saying a word with his new mutt by his side, helped me to return some dignity to the boy.
We took him to my small apartment and washed him and tended over him while he lay in my bed.
Gemma came soon after Andrew had been draped in a sheet—she was there in disguise as she’d been earlier and upon me opening the doorway, she began to ask me if the boy was with me. I merely stepped aside, and she rushed to Andrew’s side; if he was aware of her presence, there was no way to tell.
“They killed him.” She’d taken to her knees to be nearer his level. “Oh. Oh, he’s dead.” She touched him and he shivered at the touch. Gemma removed the wrappings of cloth around her head and looked at her sweetie closer and she put a hand to her mouth. “They took his hand!”
“No,” said Dave, “He’s going to live.” The man looked to me and I shrugged. “Yeah,” his voice didn’t sound sure, “He’ll live.”
I moved to the catwalk and Dave came with me, the dog following behind him—the timid mutt looked over the edge of the catwalk to the city below then stepped away and returned to my room. When Dave took up beside me, leaning over the railing, and the sun hit his face just so, he looked exactly like Jackson and maybe that was why when he raised eyebrows then cut his eyes at me with a question—the question was everything and I finally nodded.
Previous
RoyalRoad
Neovel

For the most part, I drive pretty normally. I drive the speed limit but sometimes go about 40mph on residential roads. However, sometimes I get these super impulsive impulses just to go crazy on the road/highway. For example, today when I was driving an hour down a highway at around 7:00 AM, I was going over 100 miles per hour contiously and was cutting around traffic like a madman. At one point while I was going 110 I had to go into the shoulder lane to not hit the car in front of me. After that experience, and realizing that if I had crashed there their probabaly was a very high chance of me dying, I am spooked and probabaly wont drive like that for a certain period of time. How can I force myself to stop these impulsives? I feel like if I cant handle them Im going to fatally hurt myself on the road. Sometimes I wish I just got pulled over just so I can get a consequence and learn that way. I'm just scared of myself and what I might do in the future.

I used to be a devout believer, a faithful follower of my religion. I was convinced that my religion was the truth and it was perfect in every way. I prayed every day believing that I would achieve heaven and I promised myself that no matter what happened, I would never stop believing in my god. But that all changed when I started hearing a voice in my head. At first, I thought it was just my imagination playing tricks on me. But then the voice began to speak louder and clearer, until I could no longer ignore it. The voice claimed to be the voice of God, and whatever it said became real. For example, if the voice said an unexpected guest would arrive at home today, it really ended up happening. So I didn't have any other option without believing that it was God's voice. At first, it was just simple things, like telling me to pray more often, be kinder to my family and friends, or donate to poor people, etc. But then, the voice started to become more demanding, more menacing. It told me that I needed to focus more on my religious prayers, or else terrible things would happen. It threatened me with eternal damnation or killing my loved ones if I didn't obey its commands. And so I tried my best to concentrate, but it was never enough. You see, I have ADHD, which makes it difficult for me to stay focused for long periods of time, and the threats didn't help because the fear of what it would do if I didn't pray properly just distracted me while praying. The voice became more and more frustrated with me. If I got distracted a little bit while praying, it would tell me to pray again and again, and if I didn't, I had to face the consequences. Soon it began to drive me insane. I couldn't escape it, no matter how hard I tried. It was always there, whispering in my ear, threatening me with unspeakable horrors if I didn't do as it commanded. The nightmares were the worst. They started off as simple things, like falling from a great height or being chased by a shadowy figure. But then they began to get more twisted, more horrific. I dreamt of seeing my loved ones die in front of me, of being trapped in a burning building, or being eaten alive by some sort of creature. And then, one night, I dreamt of the end of the world. I saw the sky turn red, the ground split open, and the dead rise from their graves. The voice was there, too, promising me salvation if only I would pray harder. But I knew deep down that it was lying. I tried to tell people about what I was going through, but they just called me crazy. They thought I was making it all up or that I was just seeking attention. But I knew the truth. I was being tormented by a voice that claimed to be God, but was really something else entirely. So I made a decision. I renounced my faith and became an atheist. I came up with my own theory that the voice I was hearing was not God's voice, but the voice of an extra-dimensional being. I convinced myself that God couldn't be so cruel, so the voice must be coming from somewhere else, maybe from a parallel universe where everything is higher dimensional. But I just don't know. I committed blasphemy. I ripped off the holy book of my religion, cursed God, and burnt His name. It was just to show that He didn't own me and I wasn't afraid of Him. I started watching videos on YouTube that provided me with enough information that proved the religion I was following was false and ignorant. And, in a way, it helped me to increase my belief in the idea that higher dimensional entities were manipulating people to believe in stupid nonsense. I also learned the truths about what horrible things the founder of the religion did, and my hate towards this cult rose even more. But the voice obviously didn't like that. It punished me for my blasphemy and caused me mental pain that I couldn't handle and started manipulating reality to make my life a living hell. It forced me to believe that it was God, but no matter what it did, I kept up with my belief that it wasn't. I lost my job, my friends, and my sanity. I tried to fight back, to do things that went against the voice's commands. But every time I did, it punished me even more. It caused accidents to happen, made people turn against me, and even caused me physical harm. I knew I couldn't go on like this. I was tired of being tormented, tired of being a prisoner to the voice in my head. So I made the ultimate decision. I decided to take my own life. But I want people to know my story, so before that I decided to post my story on this subreddit. The voice still whispers in my ear, promising me salvation if only I pray harder.

I’m almost 28. Just shy of 27, I got into what could’ve been a fatal car accident. I lived, obviously. Walked away with a few cuts and bruises. My life didn’t flash before my eyes, I didn’t think about my friends and family. I didn’t even think about the pain or terror. I thought about how much this was gonna cost me.
I could’ve died and I thought about the monetary inconvenience. The only thing of value I had was my guitar that I had recently bought. I cracked the body, but she la otherwise perfectly fine.
Decided I needed to get serious. Fast forward, I’m in my first ever band and things are going great. I write so much, I practice hours in end, I’m constantly writing. It’s compulsive almost. I can’t stop, I don’t want to. I want to play ever day, I want to be better, I need to prove it to myself.
I hated my life before my accident. I was at rock bottom, I wanted to kill myself and bought about it often. I walked away with a new lease in life and realized nothing will change so long as I stayed the same.
I’m obsessed with my craft. I’m in love with the thrill of performing and screaming my fucking insides out. I’ve learned so much about myself and have been taking off the mask I’ve worn my whole life and am finally able to look into the mirror and see me for who I truly am and always was deep down.
I love what we do so much and I’m so proud of us. I’m proud of myself I’m a very “distant” way. I feel old and yet new. I have a very fragment sense of self and perhaps I’m working like my life depends on it because in a way it does. Nothing has ever come close to bringing me the joy that I experience doing what I truly love.
Sure, making it would be awesome and I think maybe we could. Even if we don’t, so long as I can even just do it regularly I’m happy. Through song I feel understood and human and I never want to not feel human again.

I took the 75-hour salesperson prelicensing course, I passed the exam for that course with a 98%, and then I was in an accident that broke my back and put me out of commission for about three months. So, barring the entire story that goes along with this information, I haven’t been studying for the state/national exam since then.
I applied for the state exam before my prelicensing course was finished, all of us in the class were required to apply. My question is this: What action would you would take in a position like this to get back on track? I want to be in this field, but I’ve never been through a debilitating injury like this before, let alone at such a pivotal point in my life.
I’m on my own with this and I don’t know who to call to set up the actual taking of the exam, I want to read through/study the textbook again because of my neglect for retention, I just don’t know where to go from here to be honest. I was so prepared and suddenly I’m unprepared

Our little boy is growing quickly, as you may all know. He is three months and is around 23 lbs. When he came, he was eight weeks, so we had him. in the crate since then, a medium crate size. But as he is growing, I need to change asap. Today in the pet store, they recommended the next side, saying that sometimes the biggest size could become problematic if he is not properly potty trained.
I would love to know what you guys think. I can go to the next size that adjusts well for a dog 30-50 lbs or to the other L size for dogs up to 70 lbs (which may get to that size). Prices are 100 Dlls difference between each size.
Pancho hasn't had any accidents in weeks. I lost track. He is good at letting us know, but what the store lady told me—made me nervous. So I'm looking for recommendations from Golden owners.
Suggestions? Should I get the one up to 70 lbs and not worry about it again? Or should I spend the money for one now and then change again once it helpfully grows.

First
Prev
Corva fiddled with an empty medicine bottle, he looked at the labels and peeled them, only to stick it on the bottle again, he would screw off the cap and screw it back on repeatedly. It was an old habit of his, just looking at random things and playing with them like a fidget toy, he only does it when he has nothing to do, ever since he got a job that habit disappeared, but now, all he can do is lay down on the bed of a hospital tent, and he's also technically currently unemployed. Since no company is going to recruit anyone in the middle of an invasion from killer robots. He thought back to what happened yesterday, when Lavoss came into the tent and confronted Kawl.
"You're still awake?"
"Hmm?"
He was still curious about it, what did Lavoss mean by traitor? Did Kawl kill someone? He doesn't look like someone who would do such a thing, whatever it was that he did though, it was significant enough for Lavoss to hit him in the head with the stock of his gun knocking him out cold. It was shocking to see, he was awfully calm up until the point he said something about the traitor part and not a moment later Kawl was on the ground unconscious with a gun stock shaped dent on the chitin protecting his head. Everyone gasped, except Mari, the nurse, she looked like she expected it for a long time and stayed calm.
"Do you have trouble sleeping?"
She asked as she came back with another box of medical supplies.
"No, just… didn't feel like it"
"What do you mean you don't feel like sleeping?"
She put the box down and walked up to him.
"Well… i got plenty of sleep yesterday, spent the rest of it sleeping, didn't i? And most of today as well"
"With all due respect that doesn't justify staying up until the middle of the night, besides, you need rest"
"Same thing can be said about you… I haven't seen you take any kind of break, even the doctor's not here, why are you?"
"The downside of being the only qualified nurse left around, not the only one in the camp of course, just the only one left for this tent, besides… it's my duty to watch over the patients, and make sure they have enough sleep…"
She raised her voice a little on that last word, as well as throwing a glance at other patients that were already asleep.
"Subtle…"
"Right i am, now sleep"
"I've tried, i don't think i can"
"So you do have trouble sleeping, hold on, i think i have something for that in stock"
"No thanks, can we just… talk? It's been some time since I've had a friendly talk with anyone, just… Not about anything in particular, you know? Just talk"
"Hmm… fine, when was the last time then?"
"Right before the invasion… right before he lost his life…"
"Let's… not talk about that…"
"Wise…"
"Uhm… What's your job?"
"QC, for quality control, in an arms factory"
"A factory worker? You looked way cleaner than i thought you would"
"If i were working in the assembly i think you would change your mind about that, but no, QC's don't get their hand dirty often, maybe once in a while when a weapon explodes on them"
"Huh… ever had one?"
"Personally? No, have I seen it? Yes, funny story, when i first got accepted i had this instructor, telling us how to check the quality of products, the first rifle he picked up to show us how to check the pulse had a faulty wiring on it, too much energy, it blew up on his face while a group of new QC's was watching, safe to say he doesn't like it when some of us laughed"
"Poor guy, Reminded of someone"
"Who?"
"My sister"
"Oh i…"
"Oh don't worry, it's nothing sensitive, it's like your story, she's a teacher, been one for a while even before she got here, so when she got here to Rosan she was considered a senior teacher, and when new ones needs a tour of their workplace and know how to handle the kids they relied on her, now one day she was guiding a new teacher…"
"Mhm?"
"And she was like… maybe she wants to show off a little bit, I don't know, but from what she told me, she said to this new teacher something along the lines of: 'look at these children! So behaved! If you want to do that you have to learn from me' or something like that… and… not a second after that, one of the kids who were playing threw a wet ball of paper and it hit her right in the back of the head"
Corva had to spend some willpower trying not to laugh, remembering that he was the one who laughed when his instructor blew himself up along with Kasso didn't make it any easier.
"Oh the look of embarrassment on her face, didn't see it myself, but i wish i did, i can feel her esteem crumble every time i mention it, it was cute to see her just shrink and try to hide her face"
"Oh… you'll like it when you see how my friend acts around girls, Kasso, he…"
Mari was a bit confused why Corva suddenly fell silent, why he looked at the ground with a frown, until she remembered what he said, and it clicked on her.
Right before he lost his life
"I'm sorry for your loss"
"It's fine, i'm sure he's in a better place… much better than this… hellhole"
She wanted to comment on his sudden pessimism, but decided that won't be so wise considering he's not wrong, no matter how many times she tries to ignore it, she has to admit, their current situation is a hellhole.
"I suppose that's enough talk for now…"
"...."
"I advise you sleep now, you'll get tired"
He didn't respond, and just went to sleep without another word, and an unchanged expression of sorrow. She sighed and returned to her work, sorting the type of medications into different containers.
"When will it all end?"
—-~----
It was calm… and black… that is about all Schen can think about regarding his current state, he can't tell if he's dreaming, or if he's asleep or awake, it's just that he is aware. It was a strange feeling, like being asleep physically but not mentally, he feels like he's floating, without a body, like there's nothing that can limit him. And yet at the same time he can't do anything, he was just aware, and drifting away in this weird state of half dream. For some reason, he thought of those tales of people who 'died' , people who experienced long comas, and the tale of their supposed journey to this place between the mind and the world.
Ridiculous stories, barely believable, and uninteresting if you ask him. And yet, here he is now, aware of what's happening, he remembers everything, he passed out from blood loss, after fighting one of those things. He wants to wake up, check on his men, maybe meet up with Captain Vaiya and make up a plan on what to do next regarding their situation. But you can't wake up when you don't even have control over your eyes, so it was more of a waiting game, an annoying one, knowing what's happening and yet can't act on it. He'd rather be actually dead over this, at least if he's dead he doesn't have to worry about anything. The problem is, he knows he's alive, it's just that his body is not responding to him, nor can he feel it.
It took what felt like hours, since he wasn't actually asleep, he was paralyzed but still conscious. After an agonizing few hours, he felt the first bodily sensation, his finger, it graduated to the feeling of his hand resting on a soft surface, probably some sort of bed, he can feel his breath as well. He started feeling his body, little by little, unfortunately, now that he feels his body again, he can feel what his body feels, and that is pure unadulterated pain. On his head, on his leg, his back, his arm, everywhere, he doesn't remember getting hit that much, but apparently he did. His back arched from trying to suppress it, and he let out a grunt that was too loud for his standard.
"Calm down! Don't move just yet…"
A voice, good, that means he should be in a friendly area now. He opened one of his eyes with a considerable amount of struggle, and saw the face of an Enovian with a waterproof paramedic hat on through his blurry vision.
"I've had worse…"
What a word for him to say before his back gave up on him and suddenly went limp, triggering pain in many areas of his body.
"Aergh…"
He grunted with some exasperation and regret. Maybe he shouldn't be showing off at this kind of age, it's not good for his bones.
"Where's our painkillers?"
—-~----
"Captain?"
"Yes?"
"He's awake"
"Just? or?..."
"For awhile, he needed some time to actually get up, thought we'll just wait for him before telling you"
"Alright, thank you, i'll be there, a wonder he survived though, and to wake up this early"
"It is, his wounds were near fatal, he was essentially one light tap away from a fractured skull"
"Tough little guy… you can go now, there are others no?"
"Oh…yes, sorry ma'am"
Vaiya turned off her personal datapad, and stood up from her command seat. She dusted some metal dust off her uniform and made her way to the recruitment office turned into a temporary medical bay. She walked through a collection of the remaining crew of the ship, some simply threw a glance at her, some greeted her, and some gave her a salute. She noted the look of despair in their eyes and sighed, but kept on walking as that isn't her goal right now. She arrived at a door with a plate next to it that says: 'recruitment', the plate had an electrical tape with a writing on it that says: 'medical bay now' stuck haphazardly on top of it.
It isn't a neon sign, but it works. She opened the door manually with her hand as most of the doors in administration are now unpowered, inside was simple, four 'beds' laid on the floor, with most of the desks removed, the remaining medical crews stay here now, treating anyone they can. Including the new security captain, Schon, who she spotted sitting on his bed half awake wrapped in blood caked bandages, while clearly struggling to drink from a glass cup. He looked oddly… calm, like he's not surprised he's here at all. Granted, she did rescue him from becoming minced meat, and it's only logical to assume there are survivors holding out somewhere, but he looks absolutely unfazed, as if he had this happen before.
"SC Schon?"
She walked up to him, he gave an unsurprised look and went back to doing his best to drink.
"Captain…"
"Nice to see you awake already, i figured it would take a long time but you prove me wrong…"
"Uh-huh…."
"About that status report you ask for-"
"I already know, stranded, no engine, almost all crew dead, ship's practically scrapped, light's dying, and surrounded by killer machines chewing on the hull, and Rosan IV isn't so lucky either"
"Yes… unfortunate is it?"
"Yes, but right now I don't care, how's my men?"
"Your what?"
"My subordinates"
"Ah… they're… few, 50… down to you and two others, i'm sorry"
"I see… who?"
"Koern, and Ayuna"
Schen wasn't paying much attention to the captain, he simply stared off into the distance, but hearing the young Caevit's name roll off her tongue took his attention.
"Really?... Thank you, but you're not here just for that right?"
Now that he actually pays some attention to her, he noticed her face change, a bit more tense.
"You read my mind, come"
"I can barely move my lips and you want me to walk?"
She looks around for a minute before looking back at him.
"I don't mind carrying someone"
"Huh?"
—-~----
"If i have credit for every time a Tekit lady carries me in her arms while i can barely move, i'll have two"
Schen commented on his current position, it earned him a confused and curious look from the captain. She took him to an uninhabited room to talk, as it turns out most of the administration has been turned to some sort of holdout for whoever's left alive in the ship. She set him down on a chair and followed suit, sitting right in front of him.
"So what is this? Is there something you want to know? If it's about this whole thing then you're talking to a wall"
Her behavior was odd, Schen noted, she seems… agitated, not angry, just stirred, like something's bugging her. He can understand being scared, but the way she moves suggests whatever's currently happening isn't the case.
"Nothing much… i just want… confirmation"
"Go ahead…"
"So… I heard that Koern asked you for help, is that so?"
"Yeah? Got to me after he said you can't help"
"Do you know what his issue was?"
"Yes, random images and voice recordings from his cousin"
"Okay… where does his cousin lives?"
"In Rosan IV and from what i heard, it's about as messed up as this ship"
"That is correct, do you-"
"Wait, can we just get to the point here? What's the issue? Why are you suddenly interested in Koern's problem?"
"I… because…"
"Hmm?"
"...Because i've been having the same problem, what you said, random images, and voice recordings, now i know it's exactly the same, that is what i want to know"
"Huh… okay… so?..."
"There's one difference… his problem started today, during the jump, my problem has been going on for the last five cycles"
"....."
"And I want to know one more thing, please, answer this honestly… do you see it?"
He can feel her agitation increase tenfold as she asks the question. She was normal, now she's visibly shaking.
"See what?..."
"The shape…"
"Shape?"
"Please tell me you saw it too, i… I've been thinking about it… for a long time… ever since I've peered into those images, there's a shape stuck in my eyes, it's burned itself into my mind, and I feel it…. Everyday i think i see something in the corner of my eyes, i hear noises that aren't there, closer and closer every time!…. It… it was getting closer… the shape…"
Her stare became intense, like the stare of a crazed person.
"i… don't know…"
"Oh but you know! You saw it!... Just as I did… it sees you, but you can barely see it, it's there… watching… First it stays in the image, then it creeps into you, haunts you, then you see it hide everytime you turn your head… it follows you, everywhere you go… in your sleep… when you work… all the time…"
Her breathing was rapid, almost uncontrolled.
"Perhaps… that's just you, i do not experience these"
"It may not now, but it will…. Because it has to me, it's like a tumor, and it won't go away, no matter how hard i try… it's still there…"
She calmed down slightly, her breathing was normal again, sort of, and she's no longer shaking, but the stare is still there, the stare of true fear, striking deep into his soul. As she calmed down more and thankfully finally averted her gaze elsewhere, Schen took the downtime to process what he just listened to, and his conclusion was: what the ////?
"Sorry… i… i just… i needed to know… i need to know if i'm not the only one… now i know it's in you too, not now, but soon, t-thank you"
"Your… welcome…"
"Should we return?"
"We…"
He pondered about asking her to take him to the bridge, so he can look out and see what's happening outside the ship, but now he's reconsidering it, because of that… experience.
"...Yes, we should"
She let go of his arms, he didn't even realize it, but she was holding on to him tight the whole time.
"Of course… of course, let's make this quick…"
—-~----
Schen observed Captain Vaiya as she left the medical room, he noted her sudden return to her previous well mannered behavior, he can still see a tinge of anxiety in her eyes and movements however, and realized how similar it was to Koern's behavior. Anxiety, unease, massive discomfort, moving around constantly, and eyes snapping to random positions as if they're trying to catch something on the move. It was unmistakable, Schen recalled back to his conversation with Koern, about something he said.
'it's… distressing'
Koern did look at the images before coming to him, and it was clear the images caused it, if Vaiya had something similar or identical happen, he can assume the cause for her distress is the same. But one question remains that still baffles him: how? How do random images do that? Implanting irrational fear into someone, making them see things that aren't there, what is happening? And now that he considers it, he did see the images, is he going to fall victim to the same thing? Why hasn't he felt anything if those images can do that to someone through just a mere look at it?
One question leads to another, and it all gets more complicated the longer he tries to solve it. He wanted to ignore it, maybe they were just unstable and he misjudged the whole thing, but he can't help but feel there's something to it, it's clear those images and recordings somehow were sent by the creatures currently roaming the ship, he sees the connection, but why? And how? Psychological warfare? Maybe, that was the most rational answer he could come up with. With their clear situation of being in the middle of an invasion, he can only assume such an answer, but applying it to only a few specific targets seems beyond strange.
He pinched his snout in frustration, before taking a deep breath and exhaling it as slowly as he could. Perhaps he shouldn't think of it too much for now, maybe that's how it gets into you, the shape… whatever it is. He looked around his surroundings, a 'medical' room, previously an office, he watched the doctors treat the wounded as he thought of his next step. Looking outside the ship should be a good idea, he had asked a nurse about the whole situation before Vaiya showed up, they told him the entire star system has fallen, Rosan IV was silent, any attempts at communication and call for help were futile, the other planets around the system, some are yet to be named, are the same.
That means those things have been here for a while, and somehow stayed out of the union's radar. He remembered the emerging stories of Rosan IV, how it became a ghost, how communications were far and few between, how many ships that traveled to its system went missing and ones that returned had signs of heavy damage on them, and how their crews looked 'lifeless'. If Rosan's system has been like this for some time, wouldn't that mean any ship that comes here would suffer the same fate as his ship?.
Why would some return and look 'fine' was beyond him, but a thought nestled itself in his mind, a terrifying thought, it made his blood run cold, the thought that these things have spread beyond this solar system, spread silently, in cargo ships that travel to every corner of union space. Suddenly people seeing shapes and hearing sounds after they look at an image doesn't sound horrifying anymore.
"////…"
—-~----
Faen sat in his office, for the millionth time, he stared at his computer, for the millionth time, he opened the files containing the Qrid military spending, for the millionth time, he looked at the reports file, for the millionth time. It has always been like this, being a general wasn't all about giving orders and making war plans, most of his time was spent in front of his computer, looking at the passive activity of his army, and its spendings, receiving calls or calling someone to see if he can learn something new about someone else's army. Look at pirate reports, raiders, terrorists, radicalist, sometimes cultists, it has always been like this, looking away at the computer, looking at files, always has been.
He wouldn't say he couldn't make wartime decisions, if one were to ever occur, he's always confident he can, after all he has learned from both his father and many mentors. He trained for it, for war, he trained how to control an army in such a situation for pretty much his whole life, he doesn't have to, but it's better to know how to fight than not at all. You never know when it'll come, maybe now, maybe in years during your old days, maybe never, but if it ever does come, he knows what to do, whether he likes it or not. It's a part of his pride, his identity, though he couldn't say much about his son, and everyday he worries about not having a successor, not having someone to pass the torch to, and as time marches on indiscriminately, his worry can only grow.
Sometimes he wondered if should've been harsh, and not fulfill his wish to go to university so he can learn computer science, and put him in the very school he himself went through to become what he is now. But that's not a good father, isn't it? It would be against his wish, and he would've needed to force him, it's what his son's grandfather did… to him, he still thinks about it, about his original dream. A singer, a far cry from a supreme general, he remembered the angry face of his father upon learning what he wanted to be, it felt like it happened just yesterday. He never liked it, not once, despite managing to prove himself worthy as a leader of an army in the end of everything.
And to think, he was almost like that, to his own son, he couldn't handle the thought. Faen took his eyes off the screen, just for a moment, and looked at another one, a camera display, showing his son's room. Rana was sleeping, as usual and as he should be at a time like this, he looked at him through the screen, at his arm, and thought about his latest conversation with the woman he loved.
"Disappointment, huh?"
He felt a subtle pain in his chest out of nowhere, he opened the drawer on his desk through a motion that tells of excessive habit, and absentmindedly took his medication without looking. With a sigh, he looked at a small button to his right. There was a screen above it that had a list of people considered significant enough to be contacted by him directly, which ranged from the supreme generals of other species, to the head maiden that cleaned his and his son's bedroom. He looked for a specific one that he recently added, the surgeon that is the head of operation for the trials he had put Rana through for the last few cycles, the trials that he and his mother show complete disapproval to.
He found it and clicked the button, it was answered after some time and he entered a call with the surgeon.
"A pleasure to speak with you general"
"Hrm…"
"Is there something you wish to ask of me?"
"Yes… we should stop, no more trials"
"If that is what you want, then I will gladly comply, but may I ask why for the sudden stop? You seem invested in this when you first called me to arrange it"
"Family issues"
"that is-"
He cut the call short, and continued his work. Looking at the files, looking for differences every so often, making sure everything is stable and taken care of, and glancing at his son's monitor once in a while, and for the first time since his son graduated university, he smiled. Perhaps that's the right thing, to be a father, not a general. At least… for a moment, his smile disappeared as he received a call, it was marked as urgent, and was displayed on his screen instead of just a sound notification. He dusted his uniform and fixed any creases as he noticed the call wasn't just any call, it was a notice for him to join a discussion between supreme generals of each species and their respective leaders, that includes the matriarch.
It is odd he wasn't notified of this earlier, oftentimes these kinds of things have their own schedule that was discussed beforehand, a sudden meeting like this can only mean one thing. He accepted the call, and his screen changed to the display he's all too familiar with, a digital conference room, two lines of camera display, the bottom for the generals, the top for the leaders, they were all present, which is to be expected. The matriarch of Qrids, the Tekit queen, the Caevitan allfather, high empress of Enovia, and the Civean president, the current roster of union council, below them was him, and other generals, including general Cynte of the Civeans.
He still remembers his little offer to make an accident to highlight Rana's name, after the reveal of the Goels and the incident it was kept as a private thing between them that didn't really go anywhere. He doesn't want to talk about it, neither does Cynte, so it was technically a win-win situation, despite the unexpected and frankly out of their favor results. The call was oddly silent, no one was saying anything even the loud ones like his mother, they seemed to be waiting for something, or someone. Faen didn't question it, it would be considered stupid, so he too followed the silence. It was a strange and awkward few minutes of staring at each other not saying anything, up until what they waited for arrived in the call.
Another screen appeared above all ten screens, and on it was something he dreaded to see, the collection of red revolving rings, Cain. Practically every general present felt tense, including him, the leaders couldn't care less, except maybe for the Civean president who expressed the most worry as they all waited for Cain to speak. Sudden meeting, all members, and Cain, and considering their latest development with the Goels, this couldn't be good. The red rings assemble into the shape of a solar system like it did when it appeared on the monitors of his warship, and Cain spoke with his usual low pitched synthesized voice that everyone in the room knew quite well.
'it is no doubt all of you will question why I requested this urgent meeting, i apologize if any of you found it to be too sudden, but what I have to tell you will change your mind, and I will not waste your time, as we are in a race against time itself… the union has been breached by an invader, you are under attack, and in a process of galaxy wide invasion'
No, definitely not good.
"What do you mean by this?"
Faen immediately asked, as much as he distrust Cain, he must agree with his mindset that no time should be wasted. And it seems his question stopped a particular set of leaders trying to speak, stopping them from blurting out what are probably4 going to be pointless sarcastic remarks, so that was another benefit of speaking first.
'your union is currently under the invasion of a race that is arguably similar to me, we call them Shakran'
The display of red rings changed to a scrolling collection of images, images of… Faen doesn't know how to describe it, bipedal creatures, made of metal, and grossly disfigured bodies, with sharp claws and many eyes. Every single thing varies, some of the things in the images looked small and only had claws, some were massive and had what are clearly cannons as a weapon. He noted a certain detail about the images, they were blurry, and not straight, and some strange things were staring at the camera, while looking elsewhere. Something tells Faen these images were taken in the middle of active combat.
'They are a hivemind of machines, their sentience and sapience is debatable, but that does matter currently as their only goal is to destroy and conquer'
"Lies! If we were under an invasion from them, we would've known already! Besides… we already have an invader… we're talking to them right now"
The Tekit queen spoke with clear passive aggresive energy in her voice. Faen sighed in annoyance but kept it to himself.
'i understand the distrust, but it is no reason to make a sarcastic remark, however, you need to trust me on this matter, because their return can only mean danger to the union, and the universe as a whole, they are-'
"Wait, what do you mean… their return?"
'you all must've wondered how and why i and my brother ended up the way we did on that desert planet, what you are seeing on my screen is the answer to your question'
It didn't click for any of the leaders, their annoyed expression stays the same as Cain finished his sentence, but it clicked for every single military leader in the room, and it horrified them.
'my kind have encountered them before, my creators, it led to a war, a million year war, between me and them, they are what wiped my creators out of existence, and soon will be the cause of extinction for every single species in this union if we don't take any actions, since you refused, i have personally tracked every ship that left Rosan IV for the last six cycles, here is the data'
The scrolling images turned into a detailed map of the galaxy, with every single star system currently under union control included in it, there were red lines all over the map, they were all traced back all the way to one specific system, Rosan IV. A heavy weight rested itself on Schen's mind as he realized how far the lines have gone, to a point it crosses itself, wrapping around the galaxy in a circle, like some sort of a chaotic web.
'Rosan is lost, it is highly likely they have turned it into a staging ground, i know that we all have strived to avoid this, but war is inevitable, i have send a complete data regarding the Shakrans to all of you, please review it as fast as you can, and take your moves, as i will mine right now, alert your fleets, if they see my fleet entering a system, tell them they are here as an ally, i have been defeated once, i will not repeat the same mistake again, i hope you can catch up and help me, because there is no telling of what they will do once their setup is complete, and there is no telling whether or not i can do this alone'
"Wait! What should we do?"
'search and destroy, hunt down every ship that left the system, check every station, scan every inch of space, detonate stations, evacuate every planet they have visited then purge the cities and hammer the surface with orbital strikes if you might, but by all means… do not let. them. develop. That is all i have to say, my reinforcements are coming, but i do not know if there is enough time, act now'
And with that, Cain left the conference room, and at that very moment, it shattered, every world leader was either furious or dead silent with a look of horrific realization, his fellow generals went into a panic and contacted their fleets. Except for him, he simply sat there, unmoving and very still, staring at the galaxy map Cain had brought up, looking at one particular star system, crossed several times by the red lines, and surrounded by it, Sheneae XI, isn't that?... The solar system his wife is visiting to look at a newly opened hospital?.
(a TON of RIC's)

These few days I been ranting, I hope nobody will bash me with words. It's okay to read my rant just don't push me down further as I don't even know how to lead in life with a smile, My heart feels so stigmatized, tight and heavy. Being born shortly after by my biological mom, some unverified reason happen between my mom and dad leads to divorce. I was very young back then, probably 3-5 years old and I can't talk as I have not yet learn how to, suddenly as this point of time writing this post, I can't believe how much time has passed, the last time I was a child, I felt small, my hands, legs, and there are less things I know about the world, I wasn't so upset or so depressed, but something wasn't feeling right, that love and emptiness I felt, even though I can't describe how it feels back then but subconsciously I miss my mom so much, I have only a memory left of my mom that before she abandoned me, my dad bring me to visit my mom once in awhile, ok very attached to my mom and would hug her everytime I see her. Even though like I said I can't speak, I enjoyed spending the short time with her at her house with my grand mother, I can no longer remember their faces, I know my mom was a very pretty lady wnd petite lady though she was short. She would buy DVDs something that genz won't understand, of Pokemon and digimon animes but back then I don't know it's an anime _(..)/ I could sit at the bedroom on the bed watching peacefully, I don't know what the story in Pokemon and digimon was about back then but the memory remains there till as I grow up with understanding of Pokemon I know what was the thing of memory I had. The two things I remembered was that Bulbasaur refused to evolve even though his species has all evolve, despite Venusaur wanted him to do so, he was so attached to its trainer and that love force him to remain the same which I do not know why maybe the fear to be no longer the same identity? The another was whereby ash, misty, Brock was put into sleep by Gengar and they saw a giant gengar and Alakazam was fighting, but when they touch Gengar or it ate them they fell into his stomach not dead as of they're inside a giant jar, I also remember my grandma bring me to her work place which was primary school but everytime it was emlty, filled with no students maybe because it's weekend? I don't know but when I was with her, I would just run around the canteen while my grandma cleans the canteen, it was so nostalgic, life was so simple back then. I don't need to care anything else.. it was a very simple and sacred love I had from then, but looking backwards, it was a just call before the storm. Everything bad starts happened, before I notice I no longer able to see my mom and grandma again, I was sent to different of my mom I think from my dad but it was just a short time, and I was constantly move from one place to another, but of course the reason was because nobody want to for free especially without money, fast forward that my dad married another woman, and that was really the nightmare that soon to begin, although when I was told to call her mom, it will never ever replace the love I had for my biological mom even though her love for me and the time spending her was short. As I was growing I will always ask my dad where's my mom and he know I was referring to my biological mom as I was very attached to her. I miss her and I know she will never come back but a child I do not know why and I just only kept missing her. That woman that my dad marries brought me to her family, they are a very traditional kind of mindset family and sort of rich, well selling fishball noodles till able to demolish and rebuild terrace house ya over the last few years and I was living there since then till I'm 12 years old. Moving to my dad's house was the hell period and start of the nightmare, always constantly I get beaten up by canning all over my leg and body, forcing to stand for 2 hours because I was too stupid unable study well. I remembered now suddenly that I was force to keep memorize English words for 2 hours sometimes and while crying and standing I had to repeat the words that I am learning for, spelling test often has in school that's why*
Fast forward to secondary school a new school for me, at age of 13/14, lost my previous friends as they went other schools because I wasn't staying at the woman's family house anymore which was nearer to my previous school. Orientation of the school day which is first day, my days of being bullied starts, was bullied by my group of Malay classmates, and I got angry but I cried while angry that is why the bullying continues for 3-4 years, each time I angry, I'll cry at the same time even when I'm angry. There was once my entire school books in my school bag was thrown into the dustbin according to the teachers and couldn't be found. It will be funny, like who even bring entire year of school books? Yup that's me, that woman wanted me to bring and I hate to bring or put it in my bag. I wanted to make friends with my classmates, even those female classmates but I do not know how, like 13 years old kids nowadays knows how to use iphone and I don't even know how to say: May I be your friend, because this doesn't exist in my brain, which I do not know how to even say or what's sentence so the only way to get their attention was by running around in class, and running to slam myself into the wall, pulling girls hairs to get their attention, it's kind of childish, but what to do? I literally don't even know how basic gestures works. Another reasons why I can't express myself properly was also because of my ADHD symptoms and back then I was very very hyperactive! for my school life, can't go anywhere after school and only home and I only can study at home, there's nothing for me to play and it was very bored as I can't sit still, it feels like a prison especially when holiday comes because I can never go out to play. Although I dislike that woman but I like her mother, she's the only one who will pamper me, and often I go back with her to that family house when I was at the hakwer centre, well they're selling fishball noodles that's why. Always when I wanted those toys from capsule machine, which cost a dollar, she gave me but when that woman knows I always get scolded for asking people to buy for me things. My classmates sometimes ask me why does my legs are full of blackmarks but I was scared, I do not dare to tell them that it was because that woman canes me almost everyday. Something causes my parents to talk to my school counselor because of me getting bullied in school everyday and that was a huge alarm as when I get bullied I would scream to the extend almost the whole school would heard and teachers has to come out of the office to look what's happening, my school counselor advise my dad to bring me to see a psychologist I think which is at child guidance clinic and also a time table where by I can go out 2-3 days, but when I was late on of the days when I called that woman, as my dad was busy driving taxi. She threatened me in Chinese that when I go home I will know what happened, terrified of that I dare not go home and had to sleep outside my classmates house which is at the stairs for 1 night, that woman made a police report not because of me lost but because I didn't return home to get beaten by her. Police didn't understand me either and there's no child protection law back then so I only can constantly get more beatings, as mentioned for going to child guidances, I was given to do IQ test but, of course they didn't tell me and till now I don't even know how high is my IQ level but more importantly my dad and that woman just wanted that medicine as they thought it will call me down even after getting beaten, everytime I get beaten and my anger and fear reach broke I will cried and lost control of myself and when one day I decided not to eat anymore they stop bringing me to see doctor because it can no longer control me. I was given only $4 a day, but my classmate who pity me will bring me out after school to lan cafe to play computer with my other classmates, a group of 5 including me. My dad and that women eventually found out and also knows that my school has a system of giving food coupons and that made that woman make her next move by reducing my pocket money to $2. I forgot to mention too, with my medical condition I was unstable in my mind and emotions but they seems to have a habit of further scolding, beating, and agitating me further and alot of times I only can cry in fear against them in the house as there's no other adults there to protect me. This fear letched on to me and made me very very negative, lonely, till today. Alot of times I wanted to find ways to (sui side, wrote in this way to avoid using sensitive words) there was once in army (19 years old) I went and bought a box of Panadols and swallowed 15 -18 tablets but I somehow knew it wasn't enough or deadly to end my life, ended up me seeing medical doctor at the airbase I was in and went to hospital to have IV drip to also flush out the paracetamol, ever since them I no longer able to take Panadol or tablets with similar taste and size due to allergic or the the featrauma of my body subconscious.
At the end of the day, during my entire growing stage life from child to adult, my brain devloped twice as slow than everyone my age and even till today there are some things I may not understand which sounds complicated to me or I'll never understand. I didn't have a normal love life either having girls comes up to me telling me they like me or me confessing to girls I like because I don't even know what's like and love, there was a girl I like and everytime she saw me she would wave to me, she's from a different class as she's smart, probably express or normal acad and is a sort of student council, a contemporary dancer in her cca, I subconsciously like her back then not know that. I always envy others when I walker pass those children with their parents who bring them out or when I sees them so happy playing or interacting with each other. I could only ask my self in my heart, why am I so different and why I couldn't have what normal people haves. Things that are worse is when I see baby or young child cries, my heart start to beat fast and I start to become Abit distracted and uncomfortable, maybe emotional because of the trauma I got child abused. I always sees many girls confessing to my classmate and his younger brother, envy that why so many girls like them, like felt they're so cool enough for girls to approach them be it irl, or online through Facebook. I guess the most depressing and unpleasant moments was I constantly sees girls going to their house to get **** by my classmate's brother, and I knew those girls like them but to him it's just flings, I felt so engioue everything in my life I'm opposite of what normal humans are, and all these experience and memories letch on to me till today made me unable to express or communicate well with people, I feel very lonely, especially after whek my ex classmate and his family treated me so badly, as I was degraded for not working, and saying my medical condition is nothing compared to people with autism and disability like having no hands and no legs, I was also compared to Michael Phelps through my ex-classmate brother, when I have no money I was treated badly and look down on, especially when they buy food for me and then proceed to say those stuffs towards me but when I have money they became so friendly, they made me left my dad's house which give my dad to tell me not to go back his house anymore as he was planning to "sell his house to buy a smaller house" due to debts. My classmate doesn't bother how I felt or my situation, because they lost job during covid period so asking me to rent there would help them have some cash, fast forward to 1 year ago I was rushed by them to get out of their house we one or their siblings coming back from oversea with his wife. I have no one else so I have to apply for a shelter from social workers, and when that extend from November to December till today they demand me to pay $300 when they knew I have no money even when I'm planning to study. Last few weeks because if that I started crying and got very uncontrollably depressed, I realisi that one of the reason because of them that made me depress and affect my behavior and life was because of them. My dad doesn't talk to me for 2 years and suddenly he message me to wish my birthday wish last year but realized he wanted to borrow money from me. Many people told me just let go off the past but how many actually knows that it's easier said than done, basically like a heavy chain are anchoring to me. Nobody knows how it feels to be alone in this entire world, having no one to be there with you be it, the time where I'm happy, sad, having surgery, suffering and crying alone. Even though I can't end my life because of fear and lack of beavery, I'm living a life of monochrome just to wait for me one day to leave this world be it old, sickness, or accident. I really hope one day I will be free from this anchors of pain, fear and grief.

I female, and my grandpa is 75. I’ve been with my bf for 3 years, and last year I moved across the country to live with my grandpa to help him will his dying girlfriend, clean his house and clean his gfs house. I was originally going to go back home, this year, but since I was going through some turmoil with my bf, we took a break but things are good now. Issue is, my grandpa is threatening me with the inheritance and his love if I go back to my bf across the country. It hurts me to stay, and be away with the love of my life but it also hurts to think I’m leaving my grandpa behind. Since he’s constantly talking about dying and how I need to clean the house and sell all the furniture to get it ready to sell. I feel overwhelmed, and annoyed I have to do his paper work. When he is still capable of doing it, I told him I would come and visit during holidays. But just even mentioning it, he yells at me at calling me stupid wanting to go back. Today I even feel worse, since recently my vehicle broke down and my grandpa helped me in buying a new one. I don’t want to disappoint him but I don’t want to be unhappy but if I stay, I potentially lose my bf but I get a house, the inheritance and my grandpas respect. Being young sucks.

This is just a little side rant that I wanted to get off my chest. I feel like Hersheypark Season Passholders can be some of the most entitled guests at the park. Which I can admit I have probably acted a little bit entitled sometimes to a certain level, but nothing major. From 7:30-8:30 a storm happened that shut down every rollercoasteride in the park, which means plenty of people were waiting for Wildcats Revenge to open. There were some particular people who I have seen at the park before (not sure if they were pass holders but it’s most likely they were). They previously complained about the gates not opening on Candymonium until 76 seconds in, when someone was having trouble getting out of the ride. Which I understand being mad at slow operations, but the operators can’t do much about that, and the thing was is that operations went very good afterward (Dispatched at 75 seconds). Anyways we get let onto the ride around 8:55, and we are in the final stretch of the queue when we were told that the ride is closed for the night. Which is understandable (I realized that the employees at the front weren’t supposed to let us in, and only let the people waiting in the station ride since they don’t really want to work too much past 9). The same people that complain about these Candymonium dispatches are swearing and are furious. The worst part was that they had fast track, which means that they most likely rode Wildcat at least over 10 times that day (wasn’t that bad of a wait today). I just don’t understand the amount of entitlement that makes these people so angry, sure a night ride would have been cool, but consider yourself lucky to even get one ride. Many people were only able to get like 1 or 2 rides, and probably won’t be back for a couple months to a year. I have also seen passholders complaining about lockers even though they were the ones who forgot their passwords. Thank you for listening to my rant, and I just thought it should have been addressed.

I (27M) do not have a car, nor a license. I live in a major US city with (believe it or not) great public transport, and have a generously allocated budget towards busses/trains, ubers and flights. I have my groceries delivered right to my door. I also live within walking distance to a hospital and emergency vet. I live comfortably in this life style and I am not reliant on anyone for travel.
I took drivers ed when I was 16 and passed all my tests. I didn't drive poorly, and I don't particularly have any anxiety towards it. However, when I did drive, I noticed myself struggling to focus on the roads ahead of me. I could force myself to focus, but I'd fatigue quickly and then I'd struggle with staying awake. I didn't take my driver's test due to some big life events back then, but even now, I haven't taken my driver's test because I feel unsafe when I drive and I don't feel like I need one. With my attention span though, I don't feel like it's unlikely that I will be the cause of an accident. This is something I'm discussing with my doctor, and am in the process of testing for ADHD/ADD.
No one judges me for this, except for my partner. My partner offers to drive us to friends' houses, to date locations, to pick up food. I'm grateful for that, and it's a privelege for me, but I really don't expect it. I also do not ask for it. They also say they don't mind offering to drive, but there are times where I feel passive aggressiveness. Recently, my partner got hurt, and it made me wonder what would happen if there was an emergency. This motivated to want to get my license, but then my partner said "then you can be the primary driver." That's not the purpose I want to get it for, and I'd rather Uber for non-emergencies. My partner brought this up in front of our friends today, and I felt judgement from them. Now I'm questioning myself.
Is it unreasonable to not have a license at this age? Am I less of an adult, or less of a partner for not having one? Why do people look down on me if I'm self-reliant?

TLDR: we got slaughtered this year, everyone is frustrated, and I don’t know what to do.
My U9 rec team went 0-8 this season being outscored 60-12. The last two or three games we played a solid first half, but still came away with a goal differential of over 10. My players are super frustrated and not long into the second half, they are dragging from frustration, not fatigue.
At today’s game we spent 18 out of 25 minutes on their half and took close to 20 shots (15ish on target) to their 5 or 6 shots. At halftime we were down 3-0 and we had our good goalie in.
I was encouraging following the game and told each player they played well, and I was proud of them, but almost every player walked away with their heads hung down.
I know I’ve said this in other threads, but I have a wide rang of players. I have 14 kids on the roster. Two are autistic, 2 are scared of the ball, bit getting better, 2 miss the ball 75% of the time they try to kick it, 1 is an above average player, but lazy AF, 1, my son, is a pretty good defender but has no a ability to clear the ball (although after all your advice on my last post about how to get him to hit the ball harder, his kick this game went twice as far as previously-thanks), 1 very good player, but lazy, 1 who is generally pretty good, not lazy, and can play well, but often tanks under pressure, 2 fairly good players, but they think they are the best and refuse to pass, 1 pretty good playegoalie (who is trying out for classic for next year), and finally one that is a good defender, has a strong kick, but hates defense.
I have no idea how to (1) get them to be a cohesive group that plays well together, (2) passes, (3) allow every player to play a reasonable amount of time in each game, while minimizing our chance of losing, and (4) encourage them to continue playing and help them improve. I might be more frustrated than the kids.
FWIW, We have played 3-1-2, 2-2-2, and today tried a 2-0-4 (for the last 3 minutes of the first half to increase our chances of scoring).

As soon as we got into the store my toddler was talking to every employee, introducing herself and even told them not to touch something unless their mom was going to buy it (lmao we had a talk before we went into the store.) I did tell her she could pick out a hand sanitizer holder, and so she picked one out herself (the hot dog doggy one) and it was in a 50% off container. An employee politely told me it was misplaced there by accident and was not on sale. I said oh not to worry! And had my toddler pick out a different one that was actually half off. The same employee came back up to us and said her manager said we could get it for half off anyways and handed it to my toddler, who lit up with happiness because who doesn’t love a dog that looks like a hot dog? They also gave her a sticker.
Totally just made my entire experience magical in some way. I haven’t shopped at B&BW for a while and stopped in spur of the moment today and I’m so glad I did! I just wanted to share because moments like this stick with me. Little acts of kindness make me so happy!

Paul tells us to put on the armor of God so when the day of evil comes you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. For our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.
The armor of God represents the defense we must take in our spiritual lives. The Bible tells us that we are fighting a war against Satan, who seeks to destroy us. Therefore we must take action and put on God's armor.
The Armor of God Prayer:
Lord Jesus, I now follow your command to put on the full armor of God because I know my battle is not against flesh and blood but the against rulers, authorities, the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the unseen world. Thank you that you made it possible for me to be strong in your mighty power and to stand against all that the evil one would throw at me this day.
In Jesus Name, I put on the belt of truth and pray that I may be centered in and encircled by your truth today. By your power, enable me to walk in your truth and to give no place to deception or the lies of the enemy. Protect me by the Truth of your word.
I put on the Breastplate of Righteousness. I praise you, Lord Jesus, that I am covered in your righteousness today in my body, soul and spirit. I now pray by the power of the Holy Spirit, my life would show forth the righteous fruit of your presence. Guard my heart, for it is the wellspring of life. Strengthen the most vulnerable places in my life with that which is right, good and noble so I might not receive a fatal blow of the enemy.
I put on the shoes of peace. I choose to stand on the firm foundation of Jesus Christ and the good news of his amazing grace. In Jesus' name, I claim over my heart and mind the peace of God that transcends all understanding. I cast down every anxious thought today, and as I walk in the gospel of peace. I pray that you would make me ready to spread your good news with others.
I take up the shield of Faith this day and in your name, I extinguish every dart and arrow by which the enemy would seek to take me down spiritually, physically, mentally, or emotionally. I lift up the shield of faith against every arrow directed at me, my family, my business, my possessions, or any part of my domain. I bind every fearful thought in Jesus' name and choose to rather to walk by faith and not by sight.
I put on the helmet of salvation and pray that you would protect my mind from thoughts that could lead me astray. I choose to take every thought captive to Jesus Christ and to reject any thought that is not from you. Transform my mind by the power of Your word and grant me a hope-saturated mind so that I can truly overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. This day, in the name of Jesus, I bind and refuse all depressed, despairing, and defeated thinking.
Finally, I take up the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Please give me the insight, wisdom, and revelation to Wield your word skillfully against every scheme of the enemy. Thank you that your word on my lips has the power to defeat every attack of the enemy!
Thank you, Lord Jesus, for equipping me with everything I need to win my battles this day! I praise you that I am protected today by the armor of God. I now claim your promise that no weapon formed against me shall prosper. In Jesus' mighty name, amen!

My biggest question is, who does the teching on all the cars? Nascar cars have to go through a laser scanner, and has tech officials hiding behind every trailer, corner, and trash can. I didn’t see one tech official all day today.
When teams would fire the cars to warm them up in the pits, sometimes the exhaust is yellow, and sometimes it’s clear. What causes the difference?
Can they not race at night? One 20 minute rain shower at 3 pm rained out 75% of the racing they had scheduled for today. I even watched the jet dryer drive by us in the pits about a minutes before they announced the cancellation.
I also want to say that I’ve been to many nascar events, and a few national truck and tractor pulling events, and this was my first real drag racing event. The NHRA does it right when it comes to fans experiences. I hope they don’t lose that in what seems to be a growth period for the sport. We’ll be back to epping next year.

< Ep 4- Part 1
Based on the fourth round of the elimination contest
Spoiler tag only for basic character spoilers
[Team Looming Lions]
Kaito: Alright Lions we're winning this one again today, right?
Nekomaru: Absolutely! Of course I'm not sure which of us will be performing.
Kokichi: Well, Kaito's a bumbling moron so he's out.
Kaito: Hey, what the heck man! I mean sure being the Ultimate Astronaut isn't that impressive for a show but so is your talent.
Kokichi: So true Kaito! Glad to hear you didn't refute the fact of you being a moron though. Nee hee hee.
Kaito: Why you little-
Angie: Calm down, Tyler. Atua has foreseen what will lead us to victory. I shall take the lead and create a beautiful masterpiece in the name of Atua.
Mondo: Okay, so Angie's doing art. What are the rest of us supposed to do to perform along side?
Mahiru: I could take some action shots of her work. Though I'm not sure how impressive of a performance it will be.
Hajime: Your ability to take perfect photos is still impressive in its own right, Mahiru.
Mahiru: Hajime…
Celeste: So it's decided. Angie and Courtney will be performing with some artistic photography
Angie: Nyahahahah, wonderful though if we're doing artistic pictures, would it help to provide something more visual. Body models for example?
Mahiru: Absolutely not! These boys don't get to see anything like that. Speaking of which, how about you boys pitch in on the performance?
Celeste: Well, we've already established Max and Tyler are out. How about you, Trent. You could hit some tennis balls to add to the action shots.
Ryoma: Sorry, but I've sworn off using my talent ever again.
Celeste: Oh really, then how about a threat. Perform with the girls, or when we lose we'll vote you off immediately!
Ryoma: Go ahead, like this competition means anything to me anyways. This is merely just prolonging my time out of prison.
Chihiro: Stop it. Both of you. Celeste, I think it's clear Ryoma won't do it. Of course, I won't be much help either. Not without some kind of computer to work with.
Mondo: If I had a bike, I could do some tricks around Angie while she makes her art.
Nekomaru: Alright then I guess it's up to me. I'll be the manager to keep the show going and make sure we do it PERFECT!!!
Kirumi: If you need me, I could also be your assistant for the performance and clean up afterwards.
Mahiru: Then let's get started. Time to make something at least mostly coherent.
[Team Ominous Octopi]
Maki: So, who wants to volunteer for this talent show?
Korekiyo: I believe it's pretty obvious that Kaede and Ibuki should perform as a musical duo.
Ibuki: You got it! Izzy and Sky-ede here are gonna rock this camp!
Kaede: Sure, but that's only two. We need a third.
Chiaki: If I had a big screen and a console, I could play video games with you playing the music to it. Too bad they don't have any of that here.
Akane: I could do some flips over you two.
Taka: Too dangerous. Plus we don't want any of you to get hurt.
Maki: Then I guess killing someone to music is out, huh?
Taka: Absolutely!!!
Maki: I was kidding anyway.
Kaede: Haha, wow Maki, never seen that side of you before.
Maki: Don't push it. What about you, Shuichi?
Shuichi: Well, unlike Kyoko I'm not even that talented a detective, but I'm not certain how you'd perform that talent.
Korekiyo: I could give an archaeological lesson with a pleasant backing track by these wonderfully talented ladies.
Maki: No way, after that stunt you pulled with Kaede, I don't trust you alone with her again even with Ibuki there.
Ibuki: How about DJ do the robot to our music. Ha ha, get it!
Keebo: Hey, that's robophobic to assume I could do such a stereotypical dance.
Akane: Well can you?
Keebo: No, I can't dance, however I could sing with them if you'd like?
Kaede: NO!
Shuichi: No way!
Maki: Not happening.
Korekiyo: Oh please, anything but that.
Keebo: Wha….fine.
[Team Nasty Narwhals]
Junko: So let's see talent…talent…which one of you losers has the best talent.
Sakura: I think it has less to do with best talent and more to do with talents that can perform with each other.
Sayaka: If that's the case, I'll volunteer to sing for this talent competition. You guys can make the show more exciting with your talents.
Tsumugi: I like that. I could make a costume for your performance though I'm not sure how much is that me performing with you.
Junko: Besides Beth, if anyone's going to make Ella fashionable it should be me.
Toko: We get it, we have costumes down b-b-but that still not get any closer to who's performing.
Miu: Well it's obvious the moody writer and clumsy nurse shouldn't perform.
Toko: Not like I wanted to in the first place.
Mikan: I'd probably just get hurt either way and embarrass our team.
Junko: Then how about the boys then?
Rantaro: Well, I'm not even sure what my talent is but I could try singing with Sayaka if you need me to.
Gonta: Rodney could bring bug friends on stage to perform with Ella.
Sayaka: NO! NEVER! ABSOLUTELY NOT!
Miu: Guess that leaves you and me, baby gangster.
Fuyuhiko: Like I'd do anything with you and what about B and Himiko?
Miu: Washboard chest is too mopey to do anything, and I still have no idea what Big B's deal is.
[They look over at him, but Imposter merely shrugs]
Miu: Besides you should be grateful that I'm offering my genius for the performance.
Sayaka: Okay Miu, what can you do to help my performance?
Miu: Well I'm glad you asked Pop Princess. Behold first up I have a fantastic voice amplifier perfect for singing into.
Sayaka: Oh wow, that actually might be helpful. I'm surprised you came up with something so normal.
Miu: Of course it was originally meant those wild nights when you want your moans and cries to really shake the bed. Hoo Yeah!
Tsumugi: And there it is.
Sayaka: Okay but with me singing, what will you be doing during the show?
Miu: Why adding a little flair to the show. Get ready for your outfit to practically explode for the audience. [Points an invention at Sayaka] Literally I might add.
Sayaka: W-wait, what are you-Agh! [Miu shoots the machine and Sayaka is enveloped in a flash of light] Ugh…why does it feel cooler……. AAAAAAAHHHH!!!
Tsumugi: Quickly cover her up!
Sakura: You boys didn't see anything, right?!
Fuyuhiko[Blushed smirk]: Uh…no not all.
Gonta: Rodney shall not look at the indecency for he is gentleman.
Miu: See, what'd I tell you. Quite the show stopper really! Be glad you didn't go commando today.
Tsumugi: Miu, how is Sayaka supposed to perform when she's left in her underwear?
Miu: Well, four eyes, I thought this is where you'd throw her into a different outfit like the Ultimate Cosplayer you claim to be.
Tsumugi: It's not like I can dress her in an instant. She'll still be seen.
Miu: Well that's for you to work out then dip[bleep]. I merely just provided the genius with my inventions.
Sayaka: WELL YOUR INVENTIONS SUCK!
Sakura: It's alright, Sayaka. Let's just think this idea through.
Sayaka: I don't want her inventions near me ever again!
Miu: Pfft, your loss then.
[Confessional]
Sakura: I really, and I mean really hate to admit it....but Miu might've had something going there with her idea. The act of changing Sayaka's outfits while she's performing would be an impressive display. If only there was a way she wouldn't be seen during the swap.
[End]
[Team Looming Lions]
Nekomaru: Alright, Angie so how this is going to go is I throw tools to you and you work your artistic magic.
Mahiru: And I'll make sure to capture it all on film.
Angie: Absolutely, I shall let Atua guide me.
Celeste: Please dear, enough about Atua this time. Just perform your own talent.
Angie: Oh, but Atua is the one who blessed me with this talent so every work must always be an offering to him. Remember that Lightning and Courtney.
Mahiru: Sure gotcha…
[Confessional]
Mahiru: I don't want to disrespect Angie's beliefs but relying on her God for everything even just a simple talent show may be a little much. But it's fine we have this performance in the bag. Chris is going to be blown away by my photography skills.
[End]
[Team Ominous Octopi]
Makoto: So run it by me again why I'm playing with Kaede.
Nagito: I'm not sure I'm cut out for play the bass guitar either.
Korekiyo: Well Kaede and Ibuki are going to teach you two the routine and with your luck you'll each learn it and play a beautiful duet.
Makoto: I'm not sure that's what being an Ultimate Lucky Student will help with.
Akane: No time to worry about it now we've got two hours left. Besides when we rely on both of you we win…well at least we don't lose.
Miu: Hey Cockoctpi, quit hogging the stage. Some of us have a performance to practice.
Korekiyo: Sorry, but we were here first. You'll just have to wait your turn. Whenever that will be, kehehehe.
Junko: Look, I understand that you need all the practice to not suck complete balls, but right now we need an empty stage, so Sayaka's not seen in her underwear too much.
Sayaka: Junko?!
Makoto: W-w-what? Sayaka's going to be performing in her underwear?
Junko: Oopsie, did I let that slip. My bad!
Tsumugi: It's more we need to work out how a quick change would work on stage, but uh she might still be seen in her underwear while rehearsing.
Sayaka: Will you all please stop talking about my underwear!
Akane: A quick change performance, huh? Good luck, even when I was wearing the skimpiest outfits for gymnastics, it still took a good thirty seconds to change.
Shuichi: Sounds like you'd need a miracle to not be seen then.
Sakura: Wait…a miracle…or magic. I'll be right back.
Miu: What's gotten into the orge?
Junko: Nevermind all that, we still need a stage to perform on.
Maki: Well then you're going to have to get through me, so unless you want to die, I say go practice over on the side of the camp like the Lions.
Junko: ………Fine Miss Assassin, you win. But I won't forget this. Come on team we're leaving. [Narwhals follow her reluctantly]
Kaede: Thanks for that, Maki. Okay Makoto, let's just try a simple scale.
Ibuki: And Harold, how about we try an A-chord.
Hiyoko: Hey, what's the big idea hogging the stage?!
Korekiyo: Here we go again.
Sonia: If it wouldn't be much trouble friends, we'd like to use the stage to practice our act.
Keebo: Is Hiyoko going to dance in her underwear too?
Hiyoko: Ew, gross! What are you saying you perverted robot!
Keebo: Sorry, I just assumed that was how all the girls were performing these days.
Maki: Ignore him, like we told the Narwhals, we were here first.
Byakuya: While I commend your fighting spirit, just know that no matter how much practice you do, you'll never be able to force talent onto those two.
Hiyoko: Yeah besides, we at least have our routine planned out and everyone with actual talent who's going to perform.
Korekiyo: Really, and what would that be?
Leon: Like we're going to tell you guys. Just give us the stage so we can practice already. We need to use the wood backdrop of the stage anyway.
Akane: If that's all it is then-HIYAH! [she breaks the backdrop in half and tosses it to Kazuichi] There, practice with your backdrop somewhere else.
Kazuichi: Seriously…well fine. Let's go Rhinos.
[Cut to Himiko sitting by herself. Sakura approaches]
Sakura: Mind if I sit down with you?
Himiko: Nyeh sure…I'm guessing they called you over to make me help them.
Sakura: Actually, I came over of my own volition. But I am curious if you'd like to help. Sayaka could really use your expertise in magic.
Himiko: Yeah I get it, you just want to use me for my talent but when I'm no longer useful you'll just vote me off the team. Just like how they treated Tenko.
Sakura: I understand why you're upset. It seems the Octopi weren't committed to understanding Tenko; she was a person you comfortably called a friend. Why couldn't anyone else do the same?
[Himiko doesn't respond but gently nods]
Sakura: Well, I'm not forcing you to do anything. I'm just trying to understand your feelings. In the end, it's your decision whether you want to be part of the team or not and I'll respect that decision.
[Himiko still doesn't respond but gives a side glance to Sakura]
Sakura: However, if you do decide to participate, we could honestly use your magical talent to save Sayaka from embarrassment. I've seen your shows, you have a knack for misdirection. It would help to provide misdirection when Miu attempts the wardrobe change. But of course, that's if you decide to help.
[Himiko looks forward again still in silence]
Sakura: Well, that's all I came over here for. I'll be getting back to making sure Miu doesn't embarrass the rest of the team. I hope you feel better, Himiko.
[Himiko quietly watches Sakura get up and leave, before looking forward again in deep thought]
[Confessional]
Himiko: Nyeh, Tenko always believed in my magic but she believed in me as a person too. How can I guarantee the others see me as a person and not just the magician girl. Maybe I really can't…nyeh.
[End]
Junko: Well look what the Princess dragged in. You Rhinos got kicked off the stage too huh?
Hiyoko: Beat it, you skank. We're trying to rehearse and we've wasted enough time as it is.
Junko: Hey, I'm just trying to empathize with a fellow team. Those Octopi jerks shooed us away too. If only there was some way to get back at them. [Stares down Mukuro]
Sonia: Sorry Junko, but we need to practice right now, so no more distractions.
Junko: Fine fine, guess we should probably step away then. Don't want Sayaka's underwear to be a distraction.
Kazuichi: Wait, Sayaka's going to be singing in her underwear?
Sayaka: Stop telling everyone that!
Mahiru: Hey, would you other teams keep it down.
Nekomaru: Yeah, Angie needs complete concentration to work!
Sayaka: Ugh, let's just give up already there's no way Miu's invention is going to work without me being utterly embarrassed.
Miu: It could if you could change faster.
Tsumugi: And how do you suppose we do that. Hide her from plain sight everytime you shoot her.
Himiko: Sounds like you could use a little magic then.
Rantaro: Hey, Himiko's back. You feeling better?
Junko: Oh Staci, I knew you wouldn't let your team down.
Himiko: Nyeh…I didn't really want to do it for you but I'd feel awfully ashamed if I could've helped and didn't. So what's going on?
Miu: Well Shimplette, Pop Princess here is going to be zapped by my clothes cannon. It'll make it easier to change into a new outfit, but she's worried about everyone seeing her pink little panties.
Himiko: So you need a distraction to allow you time to change, huh? Okay, I can do that, just follow my lead.
Sayaka: Oh Himiko thank you so much, you're a lifesaver!
Kazuichi: Great you have your act figured out; now can we please have some room to practice?
[Confessional]
Kazuichi: It took a little bit of creative thinking but with Hiyoko, Gundham and Mukuro we finally had an idea. Mukuro is going to throw knives around Hiyoko's dance while Gundham's hamsters do some tricks on the knives that get stuck in the backdrop. Pretty brilliant, right. I bet Miss Sonia thinks so!
[End]
Kazuichi: Hiyoko, are you ready to begin?
Hiyoko: I was born ready, dummy. This is my talent after all. [She begins dancing]
Kazuichi: Okay Mukuro, now aim carefully as not to hit Hiyoko and strike the backdrop with the knives.
Mukuro: Sure, no problem. [Starts throwing knives around Hiyoko]
Hiyoko: Eeee! [She jumps a little every time a knife whizzes past her, stabbing into the backdrop making little platforms]
Kazuichi: Alright Gundham, you're up!
Gundham: Hmph, while this may be a mockery of your power, for the good of our team do not disappoint me my Dark Devas of Destruction! To the left San-D. The right Maga-Z. Jum-P, the high one. And of course Cham-P, harness all your power and get to the low one there. [They each take a knife pedestal] Now switch it up! [They begin leaping from knife to knife timing it to Hiyoko's dance]
Kazuichi: Yes, this is working. Now Mukuro, just a few more knives to bring home the finale. Just aim true; you've got this.
Mukuro: Aim true, right…
[Confessional]
Mukuro: I'm supposed to play dirty, right? I've never been more confident in my accuracy…and yet.
[End]
Hiyoko: Just throw it already, my dance is almost over.
Mukuro: *deep breath* [she eyes a slit through the backdrop and sees Kaede and Makoto at the piano] HIYAH!!!
[The knife speeds past Hiyoko and she feels the motion] Hiyoko: Hey, watch where you're throwing you clumsy-
Sonia: Oh no, Octopi, watch out!
Ibuki: Harold, come on, it's just a simple pluck and strum like this.
Nagito: Like this [strums his bass guitar. Immediately a string breaks near the top and whips Makoto in the arm]
Makoto: Agh! [He falls from the piano bench in pain] What the heck was that for?!
[As he falls, the knife flies passed and ricochets off the piano]
Kaede: Woah! What the? Makoto, look out!
[The knife comes flying back towards the Rhinos]
Peko: I got this. [She take out her sword and deflects the knife away]
Yasuhiro: Watch where you're throwing that thing, you could've hurt someone.
Mukuro: Apologies, it must have hit a weak part of the backdrop. I'll be more careful nex-
???: AGGHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Peko: Uh oh…
Mahiru: My….my….my camera!!! [The knife finally came to a stop lodging itself directly into her camera lens]
Nekomaru: HEEEEYYY!!! What happened over here?
Mondo: Yeah, what the [bleep] did you just do?
Mukuro: Oh crap…
Kazuichi: L-listen it was an accident, alright. We just had a mishap with the knife throws.
Kaito: You took out one of our performers!
Mukuro: I deeply apologize. It won't happen again.
Byakuya: You're right it won't because you're sitting this one out now.
Mukuro: What?
Aoi: Byakuya, please it was an accident. Besides, we need her for this.
Byakuya: Do we? Every time we rely on this incompetent soldier we either come in last place or second to last place. You're clearly putting too much faith in her. I don't care if we are in the same class, she's only become a detriment to the team even more than the little loudmouth.
Hiyoko: Hey!
[Mukuro looks over to Junko who simply gives a dismissive smirk]
Sonia: Byakuya, we don't need to be so harsh. Maybe Mukuro just needs a little break, if we just-
Mukuro: No, it's fine. If you don't want me anymore, I won't try to help you guys. See you later.
Byakuya: Finally, the girl gets the memo.
Sonia: Mukuro please, you don't have to do this.
Leon: Well, that's just great, so now who do you expect to perform for our team?
Byakuya: Figure it out yourself, and stop relying on one person to solve all your problems. I bet the swordswoman could do just as well. She hasn't been pulling her weight that much.
Yasuhiro: Dude, you can't just call her fat like that!
Byakuya: How about it, Pekoyama? Knives are just like mini swords, right?
Peko: If this is really how you want this competition to go, I'll give it a shot.
Aoi: But just know if we lose, we're blaming you for this, Byakuya.
Byakuya: Typical peasants. Putting all your actions into your emotions rather than your logic.
Sonia: Byakuya, that is enough. Even I, as a woman of nobility, know this is not how you should treat your friends!
Byakuya: So the Princess finally has a backbone.
Sonia: That's right, and I intend to use it and not let my friends be bullied around by you.
Kazuichi: You tell him Miss Sonia!
Byakuya: Fine then bring back the soldier girl but you better hurry because your time is up.
Leon: What do you mean?
[Loudspeaker feedback]
Chris: Attention all campers. Your three hours of preparation are over! Please join us at the stage. Narwhals you're up first.
Peko: Looks like he's right. It's fine, I'll do my best. Just know we're not afraid of you.
Byakuya: The feelings are mutual.
[Confessional]
Sonia: Ooh, that Byakuya. First driving away Mukuro then thinking he can just boss us around. If I weren't trying to be so proper I'd call him a…call him… a [bleep] [bleep] [bleep] [bleep] with a [bleep] [bleep] in his [bleep] [be-
[End]
To be continued