FYI, this is a story COLLECTION. Lots of standalones technically. So, you can basically start to read at any chapter, no pre-read of the other chapters needed technically (other than maybe getting better descriptions of characters than: Adam Vir=human, Krill=antlike alien, Sunny=tall alien, Conn=telepathic alien). The numbers are (mostly) only for organization of posts and continuity.
OC Written by Charlie Stastarrfallknightrise,
Typed up and then posted here by me.
Proofreading and language check for some chapters by u/Finbar9800
Future Lore and fact check done by me.
Its space Sirens y’all! Coming to lull you in and take your life away!
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He was so hungry, lying on the floor of the cage, his hand dangling through the bars, he listened as his stomach left off a round of mournful gurgling.
The mournful gurgle turned into a low grumble and then a distinctive angry howl. His mouth was dry, and he did his best to wet his lips with his tongue.
He could only imagine what the others had been feeling when he first arrived.
No one had been feeding them, and here he was, lying around in a pathetic heap, though he was still watered and fed to some degree. Arguably the amount should have been sustainable if he hadn't been sharing with the other prisoners. He knew it would only cause more problems for all of them in the long run, but he couldn't bring himself to eat while others starved.
Below them on the Prodigum's open floor, Sunny lay curled up against one wall with a line of other prisoners. He had no doubt that she could have broken out by now, but she wouldn't, not as long as he was here at least.
Adam rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling of the cage. A plan had been forming in his head, though whether he could get a message to Sunny was a different matter. He mostly hoped that she would be smart enough to go along with it, or smart enough to go along with it and help with her own plan, if his plan failed.
What was his plan?
Well, that was an entirely different matter…
Honestly it was a pretty stupid plan, designed based on complete conjecture and hope on his part.
Not only that but it pretty much required that Sunny had the ability to read minds, which in itself was stupid, considering their only mind reader was most likely a couple million light years away.
He sighed.
"Ready to start again, commander?”
He closed his eyes against the voice and tried not to groan. He did not want to keep going with this, but he knew he had to.
He rolled onto his knees and looked over at the other cages, where the voice coach and the drummer were watching him. The two of them had been there longer than him and were much closer to the verge of death, though since his arrival they were at least getting something small to eat and drink.
"I'm ready."
His voice was hoarse, and He was forced to clear it.
At least his throat didn't hurt today, a fact that he owed all to the voice coach.
"Remember keep your posture straight, but not strained, breath all the way down and into the belly, don't rely on the chest. The posture of the mouth is the most important aspect of a good singing voice."
He leaned his head against the bars with a sigh.
This was not something he ever thought he would need to learn how to do, especially not in order to save his own life.
There were plenty of other things he had imagined needing to learn. On the floor below them, he watched as Sunny watched him, her sharp gold eyes curious as she watched the two of them working.
She would have no idea what his plan was, and he couldn't tell her. It was known that there were members of the serving staff who were loyal to the Prodigum, whether it be out of fear, Stockholm syndrome, or loyalty.
He idly wondered what the others were thinking.
He wondered what Sunny was thinking.
He wondered if tonight would be his last night alive.
If he would die he would make at least sure that it would be to save Sunny.
[…]
The clients began filtering into the room.
Slaves were brought forward for auction, most of them rather worthless, burned out from ears and years of use, but occasionally he would throw in a piece from his own stock knowing that the perceived value of one slave would drive up the price of another.
Lights began to flash and pulse around them at his behest.
He liked the flashing lights, they tended to confuse some of the other species, making them dumber and more likely to buy irrational purchases.
It was the same with the music, though speaking of which… where was his music?
In anger, he turned in his place, shuffling his great bulk over the floor with great halting movements of his arms and the shuffling of his back legs.
The little tentacles below his chin waved in the air, tasting it. He could taste the human, so it's not like the creature was out of his sight.
Ah there it was, in its cage as usual.
It was standing defiantly looking down at him. The ugly little creature glowered at him, its tight skin stretched over bone and lumpy muscle skeletal and strange with its flexible rubbery body.
He hated humans, though they were at least good for one thing.
…
Singing.
He wasn't entirely sure how they did, but he was more than jealous.
He really wished Prodigum could sing…
Though he was already working in one of the backrooms on a little project to help with that hinderance…
Of course, he didn't know this, but the Prodigum were more readily affected by human species than a lot of the others.
Where it targeted the Vrul's sense of pattern recognition and overloaded their brain, it directly impacted the emotional cortex of the Prodigum.
Singing to him was an addiction.
One that he had not yet admitted to himself or anyone else.
The human still stared at him its slimy white and green eye, blinking once or twice. He shivered in disgust, but slowly turned to look at the blue Drev. She would fetch a nice price if he were ever to sell her, and he hoped the human understood his intentions.
They were at least smart enough for that on most occasions.
He saw the human shoulders sink just a bit.
Then without further urging, it began to sing.
The Prodigum leaned back slightly, as the sound washed over him bringing with it a wave of melancholy and sadness.
It felt so good,
The fold of his face trembled with delight.
All around him the other clients stopped to look up at the human.
Was it just them or had its voice gotten better, more hypnotic?
[…]
Behind the Prodigums back Sunny flexed her hands.
She was ready for whatever Adam was planning, for she knew based on the looks and small gestures he had been giving her over the past few days that he was planning something.
However, the night went on, and although Adam's singing voice had markedly improved, she sensed nothing changing.
She shifted nervously in her cage, looking over to where the Prodigum sat on his back haunches, his large arms resting beside him, a glassy expression on his face, or at least as glassy as an expression could get when it looked like a pile of melted dough.
…
That was strange…
She glanced around at the others, aliens in various stages of debauchery, sort of lethargic and wobbly.
She glanced up at Adam…
He looked down at her, letting the last note of the song he was using fade off.
She nervously shifted as the aliens began to shift and move.
Then the quiet human in the far cage began tapping his hand against the bars. Adam cleared his throat. The female human began to hum softly.
How interesting…
The effect was almost immediate.
Adam took one deep breath and made eye contact with Sunny.
And then he opened up his voice, cutting through the fading clamor like a blade made of diamond–rising from the upper chest and throat in a way she didn't think him capable, quivering at the top as the others accompanied him.
His voice was full, but filled with pain as he poured in emotion like a damn, breaking to spill water into a canyon. The drummer beat out a soft rhythm behind him.
As he continued to sing the voice was so sad, so pained, that it almost made Sunny want to cry.
He gripped the bars with white knuckled hands, his face contorting with the words not bothering to mask whatever emotion he had dredged up to make a sound like that.
Beautiful and sad.
He dropped low into his chest his voice ringing powerfully over the walls before dropping into softness.
He leaned his head against the bars.
She had a tough time looking away.
What did someone have to be thinking about to make a sound like that?
The beat stopped behind him, leaving just his clear voice ringing out through the room.
She was forced to shake herself from her reverie.
When that song ended, the next one began his voice –quiet– filling the room as she slowly stepped back out of line of sight from the others.
No one was paying attention to her.
If she could just make it to the door, then maybe she would be able to find a way to get a signal out to the others.
Her movement almost notified someone, but at that moment Adam dropped his voice low, adding such a powerful hint of sadness in it that it nearly broke turning his voice to a soft rasp.
The creature could barely keep its feet.
Off to her side the Prodigum had practically melted onto the floor.
She had almost reached the door, and he brought his voice higher, the rasp still in it. It took everything she had to keep moving towards the door, and not to turn around, to be captured in the pain and sadness that he used to glue the others to their places.
Again, she couldn't help but wonder what kind of memories you had to dredge up to sing like that.
It was almost painful.
She had made it to the door.
She reached out to open it as the door opened and light spilled inward, he again reached upwards with his voice, cracking the barrier between him and the others. His voice began to splinter, but not unintentionally, actually quite on purpose, fracturing like ice.
She ran out into the hall.
She froze in place for a second, running face-first into another Prodigum.
It looked as if it was about to attack her, but when the voice washed over it, there was nothing it could do but follow the sound.
As the voice filtered out into the hallway, the same effect remained true. Others began following the sound in a dazed trance barely acknowledging her as they searched for the sad voice, so clear and powerful.
[…]
He leaned into it, eyes closed, trying to dredge up the emotion he needed. He needed to give Sunny time to work. He needed to keep their attention. But the more he thought about keeping his voice in place, the harder it was to hold.
So, he tried to ignore the need, instead allowing the emotion to roll into his body strong enough to make his face tingle and shivers to run down his face.
Tears sprung to his eyes, and he tried to hold that feeling allowing his voice to crack at just the right moments occasionally looking down at a slowly growing crowd absolutely entranced.
Behind him, the others were trying hard to keep up.
The door had opened long ago, but there were still forms trickling in.
How long would he have to hold this before someone noticed that Sunny was missing?
He tried tor as long as he could, he really did, but carrying that amount of emotion was difficult, and eventually it faded away. He still kept their rapt attention with his voice, but they were moving again, looking around at each other with confused expressions as if they were trying to figure out what had happened. The Prodigum lay almost passed out on the floor looking on in a strange mixture of confusion and contentment.
Like he was high as hell.
He had no idea how Sunny was going to do this worried that she had gone to her death.
Someone would notice her eventually, wouldn't they?
He wasn't sure how long he was going, hours or not, but eventually he lost the strength of his voice and the surrounding room went back to its normal routine using him as a simple background.
He had done all he could, now it was time to find out if Sunny had made it or not.*
[…]
”If it would be up to me, that bastard would be so fucking dead, like series bullshit, fucking laws! Why can’t we just off this motherfucking motherfucker!?”
The door hissed open, and the Prodigum turned his groggy head towards the light spilling across the floor.
He was surprised at that moment as a small shape scuttled into the room.
”And all this bullshit about I how I should stay logical, I don’t FUCKING care! I’m sick of this bullshit! The marines get to kill people all the time, but if I ask if I could bathe a goddamn Prodigum in acid and they say “nooo you can’t to that its unethical”… Fuck off!”
A Vrul?
But those didn't come here?
Number one they couldn't stand music, and number two, they were never involved in the slave market.
”Fuck off goddamn ethical laws, its not like they uphold them!”
The strange sight pulled him out of his trance enough to get up and scoot in that direction, to find out more about this uninvited guest.
It was a small creature, a brownish grey in color with large orange prismatic eyes.
He wondered how it was still walking, but then noticed the large noise-canceling headphones it wore.
”Really I am so fucking done! Fine have it as you want I will NOT kill him… there are other ways to give him what he deserves…”
It scuttled closer to him, pausing at his feet before looking up.
”Hey asshole!? Yes I am talking to you!”
That was strange, it didn't seem scared?
But the Vrul were always scared!?
"Are you the proprietor of this fine establishment?"
The Prodigum was totally baffled about what was going on and just answered truthfully.
"I am."
"Jolly good."
The creature said, reaching out with a hand and gently tossing something in his direction.
The Prodigum flinched for a moment as the tiny devices stuck to his arms legs and face.
"What is that?"
”What you deserve bitch!”
The little creature raised a hand and pressed something with a click.
His world erupted in pain, as lightning and electricity surged through him.
And then the world turned black.
[…]
Dr. Krill stood over him, hand still, still every now and then pressing the button as humans and Drev erupted into the room from all angles.
”I hate the fact that because of YOU Adam got captured AGAIN!”
He pressed the button again.
**”I hate the fact that because of you I had to captain a FUCKING human ship for two weeks, you hear me!? TWO WEEKS!!!”
Another button press, followed by more painful twitching from the Prodigum.
”But do you want to know what I hate most of all?”
He leaned down to the twitching Prodigum, holding down on the button.
"I…”
”HATE…”
”Fieldwork!"
He looked up from where he stood,
"You are ALL under arrest."
Another Prodigum hissed:
”You can’t just do that!”
”Oh, what I can’t do is surgically cut you a thousand times and then bathe you in salt, because SOMEONE apparently decided the Geneva convention should also apply to scumbags like you. But what I can do is arrest you fuckers! Just watch me!”
”Wait what was that first part?”
"Thank your gods I didn't have final jurisdiction."
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Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Intro post by me
OC-whole collection
Patreon of the author
Thanks for reading! As you saw in the title, this is a cross posted story written by starrfallknightrise and I'll just upload some of it here for you guys, if you are interested and want to read ahead, the original story-collection can be found on tumblr or wattpad to read for free. (link above this text under "OC:..." ) It is the Empyrean Iris story collection by starfallknightrise. Also, if you want to know more about the story collection i made an intro post about it, so feel free to check that out to see what other great characters to look forward to! (Link also above this text). I have no affiliations to the author; just thought I’d share some of the great stories you might enjoy a lot!
Obviously, I have Charlie’s permission to post this and for the people already knowing the stories, or starting to read them: If you follow the link and check out the story you will see some differences. I made some small (non-artistic) changes, mainly correcting writing mistakes, pronoun correction and some small additional info here and there of things which were not thought of/forgotten or even were added/changed in later stories (like the “USS->UNSC” prefix of Stabby, Chalar=/->Sunny etc). As well as some "biggemajor" changes in descriptions and info’s for the same stringency/continuity reason. That can be explained by the story collection being, well a story collection at the start with many standalone-stories just starring the same people, but later on it gets more to a stringent storyline with backstories and throwbacks. (For example Adam Vir has some HEAVY scars over his body, following his bones, which were not really talked about up till half the collection, where it says it covers his whole body and you find out via backflash that he had them the whole time and how he got them, they just weren't mentioned before. However, I would think a doctor would at least see these scars before that, especially since he gets analyzed, treated and goes shirtless/in T-shirts in some stories). So TLDR: Writing and some descriptions are slightly changed, with full OK from the author, since he himself did not bother to correct these things before.

I’m just confused. How am I meant to play with other people? I’m on Xbox btw.
I can’t join a clan because when I try to search for clans it only lists me like 50 clans that are nearly full. And it does this for…everyone. So then you try to send in an application and it gives you an error code that “they have too many outstanding applications”. And there’s no way to filter by size! Awesome!
I have some dungeons I want to do. How can I group with people? Weird…no way to group up in game that I can find. I can see who is near my area but I don’t have every single fucking area in the game memorized so telling me that XxWeinerSalad7xX is in the Uail Basin doesn’t do me any good. I don’t want to add them as a friend…I just want to group up for a dungeon.
Well, maybe I’ll see someone in the wild. Nah…not really. Only in towns or occasionally you’ll cross paths with someone and they’re gone faster than if you were the AT&T guy inside Costco and they just made eye contact.
So what’s the point? Why make this a “social” game?
I can’t do Jack shit with anyone else unless I download 17 other apps or scour Internet forums to play with people. I don’t understand.

the thought crossed my mind when i realized that you can upscale ps 1-2 games to 2x or even 8x without losing FPS but gaining much crisper graphics.
i tried the same with dolphin for gamecube, maxing out anti-aliasing and anisotropic filter - both 8x and NBA street vol.2 stills runs with 60 FPS on the deck.

Heads up! This story is both unpolished and unfinished, and posted here only for the sake of not letting my work go entirely to waste. If you want to continue the story yourself, feel free to do so.
Credit for The Nature of Predators goes to u/spacepaladin15.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Memory Transcription Subject: Rania, Gojid Civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: Error 560 (estimated date: September, 2136)
At first, we assumed it to be an Arxur weapon, but we had plenty of time to get a more detailed look at the object intersecting our FTL trajectory. A mass of energy, far more than a star could emit, yet giving off no light. Gravitational pull was intense, but completely wrong for a black hole. Maybe the remains of a massive warp core accident? Whatever it was, it was directly in our path.
We had ample time before our collision, and nothing we could do. Our course was set, and escape vessels couldn’t be launched during an FTL jump. All that was left was to wait, and pray for a mercifully quick death that we all knew was unlikely. We built our starships to withstand direct assault from Arxur warships. Our deaths would be both inevitable and slow.
I was away from the refugee’s quarters, on the bridge. I couldn’t bear to watch pups cry in terror, as their parents tried hopelessly to ease their fear. The bridge was only marginally better. Some of the crew were facing their imminent death with stoicism. Many were praying. Many were crying. I don’t remember what I was doing when it hit, but I was probably crying too.
Then… then…
Pain, agonizing and blinding pain. No screaming. No noise at all. Silence, darkness, death.
Movement. But I couldn’t possibly move myself. Was I carried?
​
My first coherent memories started taking shape next to a fire. I couldn’t see, but the warmth and crackling were unmistakable. I tried to move, only to find myself unmoving. Was I in the wreckage of the ship? I felt no pain. Was I already dead?
“Hey, look who’s finally back in the land of the living. Can you hear me?”
A human. The species that started this whole mess. That attacked our cradle, let the Arxur find an easy target. That taunted us with their “Evacuation” cattle roundups. The disgusting mockery of a voice washed over me, tainting my very soul.
That fire must be to roast my flesh. Does it want my fear, before it kills me? It won’t get a single goddamn word, not so much as a noise.
“You… damn, he must still be out of it. Maybe another stimpak..?”
Cli-hsssss. A stabbing pain in my arm, followed by… relief? My arm twitched slightly, but I couldn’t manage anything more. A rushing sound filled my ears, overpowering the growl on my left until it bore me away to unconsciousness.
—
I woke up on a bed, staring at what must’ve been the ceiling, though all I could see was vague rust-brown shapes in the distance. My body still refused to move. And yet still, somehow, so little pain. Was my nervous system destroyed?
No. Hunger. Brutal, snarling hunger stabbed through my stomach like a dagger. I made a weak noise, remembered where I was, and rapidly forced silence. If it knows I’m awake, it’ll torture me until it lets me die…
“Oh! You— you’re awake again! Can you hear me?”
Don’t make a noise. It might lose interest.
“...No. Dammit. It’s going to starve if it doesn’t fully wake up soon… I can’t afford all these meds for much longer anyway. I’ll just have to… leave this here for it. Maybe it’ll wake again while I’m out.”
And just like that, a rush of movement and it was gone. It worked! I lived… I lived, just so I could starve…
​
By the graces of the protector. Food. I could smell food, just inches to my right. Can I move to pick it up? Can I move my jaw to eat?
Is it a trap? The human must be trying to fatten me up. Or maybe it didn’t leave at all, and is just waiting in the shadows to see if I take the bait. Or… maybe…
Fuck it. I was already good as dead, I could at least die full. I tried moving my arm, but to no avail. My other arm was no better. Maybe I could move my head?
The world shifted around me, a nauseating whirl of muted colors. But that meant my head could move. I could move… the food was still just barely out of reach. I can almost taste it… it’s so close to my nose…
I let out a weak cry of frustration. I couldn’t help myself. Did the human intend for this torture? The frustration became rage, filling my body like a white-hot star until I—
Trembling, my claw grasped the food. Rage and hunger animated my arm, pushing it forward. Whatever this was, it was soft. It smelled heavenly. I brought it up to my face. My vision was just recovered enough to make out its form; a strayu-like pillow drizzled with a sweet glaze. I tore into it like an animal, barely even tasting. I must not have eaten in days.
Gone in seconds, and the hunger was barely sated. But it was enough energy to force movement with. Slowly, unsteadily, I rose to a sitting position. The world threatened to shift away from under me, but I held, trying to get my bearings.
I’m in… some sort of shack. Bare, rusted sheet metal on the walls; clearly an improvised structure. Other than that oddity, the room was surprisingly normal. No blood dripping from cages, no hunting trophies on the walls. A torn up carpet, a beaten-up table and chair, some cabinets, all illuminated by soft rays of light pouring in from a window over the table. And right next to my little mattress… is that more food? Some sort of orange vegetable. Like the sweet strayu, I ate without even tasting.
Much better. I was still starving, but only metaphorically. I could even move my other arm, though my legs were entirely numb and refused to cooperate no matter how much I pushed them. Could I escape by dragging my body with my arms?
No. I was still too weak. I had to count on the human fattening me up a bit more before I could make a break for it.
​
​
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Memory Recovery Subject: Nathan Dunne, sole survivor of Vault 111
Date: December 13th, 2287
Just a hair to the right… and… Now. The interloper, a feral dog that had wandered onto the property, dropped without a sound.
I couldn’t afford to attract any attention, so I’d hastily slapped together a silencer for my pipe revolver. An old oil filter, just small enough to not obstruct the scope I’d hastily tied to the top. The gun looked ridiculous, but it got the job done silently. If I attracted any visitors, my alien guest was as good as dead. Nearly a week after finding it, and it still wasn’t waking up consistently.
Now’s not the time for thought. Focus. Now.
The second dog also dropped. The alpha of the pack still hadn’t noticed anything, a miracle. I lined up one last shot… pulled the trigger, and finally let myself breath. That was way too close. Every day without the fence finished was another day of silent stress.
Putting up a fence was easy enough, but putting up a fence QUIETLY was nightmarishly slow work, constantly punctuated by hiding from any would-be visitors. But these dogs had wandered onto the property without even seeing me. Could they smell the alien? I knew Dogmeat could track injuries from a far greater distance…
Fence should've been up yesterday. Back to work.
I’m running out of barbed wire. And screws. And boards. Can I afford another expedition? What if Dogmeat can’t defend him? Not a chance in hell I’m risking any other group learning about this… although Mama Murphy probably knows anyway, doesn’t she. Maybe the Minutemen can—
No. I can’t risk it. I’ll have to improvise. Maybe I can set up a Tesla arc as defense and leave to raid Sunshine Tidings. Rusted metal sheets don’t make for the best walls, but better than nothing.
The sun was still high, so I had some time if I hurried. As I began gathering supplies, a thought crossed my mind. A Tesla arc was better than nothing, and Dogmeat was formidable enough, but… surely if the alien was in serious danger, it could use some self defense. Those spikes weren’t gonna cut it. Maybe that bastard Kellogg’s old .44 would finally get some use?
I grabbed the .44 revolver, a spare arc trap I’d salvaged from Fort Hagan, and some tools. It would have to do. There was already power hooked up to the shack for heating, so wiring the—
The food’s gone.
Dogmeat didn’t eat carrots, so I knew there was only one culprit. The alien must’ve woken up while I was working. It was back asleep now, but at least it got something down. It wouldn’t starve. Thank god.
…right. If it can wake up, this trap is probably more dangerous to it than any invader. I walked back over to the shed, stowed the Tesla arc and tools, and grabbed a handful of vegetables and a water canteen. If it could stomach food, it needed to start putting on weight now to make up for lost time. This would be a start, at least.
I set the food and water on the table (taking care not to break the digital chimera I’d already laid there), and the gun beside the bed. I knew it could reach to there, without a doubt. Maybe toss in a handful more bullets, too; it’s not like I’d ever be able to make myself use the damn thing. I gave one last glance at the alien curled up on a bare mattress before closing the door and setting out.
—
Memory Transcription Subject: Rania, Gojid Civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: Error 560 (estimated date: Unknown)
Help me. Kay-ut. Ki-ra. Protector. Anyone. It’s right there.
When I heard the human coming, I faked sleep hoping it wouldn’t check. As seconds passed, that hope grew thinner and thinner. Clearly, it could see the food was gone. Not that it needed to figure anything out; it could probably see through my deception just looking at me. Ki-yu, trickster; please, let this work. Let me live a moment longer. Noises all around me. Was it laying out torturous weaponry? Was it getting ready to gut me?
Protector. Please. I don’t want to die.
The noise around me stopped. Had the gods heard my prayers? I dared not check; if the human was still there, and I so much as opened an eye, I was dead. But death failed to claim me, and more noises failed to appear, until I finally worked up the courage to take advantage of my blessing and open my eyes.
The human was gone. I was alive. One more look around the room, to make sure it hadn’t—
A gun. A human weapon, close enough to grab. And ammo…
I knew humans were masters at trapping, at deceiving; such was their nature. I stared at the gun, trying to figure out what the trap was.
But I was tired, and hungry, and every sense told me that this wasn’t a trap, but a loaded gun. An answer to my prayers for safety. I couldn’t hold myself back anymore. I picked it up. It felt solid and weighty in my hands, lending some sense of security to the otherwise hopeless situation. Emboldened, I tried to rise to my feet again.
If I grabbed some of the furniture and stood on my good leg, I could just about stay upright without pain. That would have to do for now. Maybe I could use something in this room as a crutch. A leg of the table might do nicely, if I could—
Food. More food, all over the table. A sprawl of alien vegetables, including that orange one I had earlier. A metal jug, probably filled with water. And… is that a translator?
Curiosity overpowered both my hunger and my fear. On closer inspection, it was indeed a translator, one of the older dedicated units. Wired into… some sort of metal armband with a green flickering screen. The craftsmanship was shoddy; some parts were literally held together with insulated tape. Still, it appeared to be powered on and functional.
If I wasn’t in so much danger… I’d love to get a better look at what the human did with this thing. To wire Federation tech directly into one of their devices, and make it work…
My attention drifted back to the bounty laid out on the table before me. It could all be poisoned, but I’d already eaten the human’s food; what harm could it do to be full?
—
Sweeter than the orange one, but not as filling. Kind of mushy. Now no longer starving, I began to savor my meal slightly more. The green fruit was next, the one nearly the size of my skull. Upon breaking open the shell, it turned out to be pinkish red inside, and so juicy that I didn’t even need the water in the jug.
Bitter, but strangely satisfying. Next was a massive purple flower, which I could only guess was supposed to be food as well. The taste was unpleasant, but it felt bizarrely good to eat. Maybe a medicinal herb?
Why would the human give me a medicinal herb?
I’d been circling around the question for some time now. Why the food? Why the gun? Why the lack of gutting? Even if those supposed “empathy tests” weren’t faked, our species were at war! Did it not know?
Well-fed prey made for better-tasting prey, but a gun did not feed. A translator did not feed. Did it really want to talk to me? I weighed my options.
Option 1: Run. Impossible to do in my current state. Even with a large head start, even with uninjured legs, humans were nothing if not persistent; my odds were not all too favorable. And where would I go, anyway?
Option 2: Hide. Impossible to do in any state. Humans were perceptive and cunning. Nothing short of divine protection would hide me. And again, where would I go afterwards?
Option 3: Fight. I had a loaded gun, but for all I knew it was only there to lure me into a false sense of security. And besides, did I really expect to outfight a predator?
Option 4: Talk. It wasn’t likely, but maybe the human would have some sympathy (or at least fake some sympathy to keep up appearances). I was already injured, and it hadn’t torn me apart already; it clearly had something else in mind. Maybe the translator was involved in its “Something else”?
I didn’t… like that last option, but it seemed a hair better than shooting on sight when the human came back. Maybe I was forsaking the protection of the gods, forsaking my fellow Gojid. But none of the options were without risk, and I had to try something bold if I wanted to survive.
A noise from outside roused me from my thoughts. It’s coming. Time to make your choice.
​
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Memory Recovery Subject: Nathan Dunne, sole survivor of Vault 111
Date: December 13th, 2287
Halfway through the outbound trip, I realized I’d forgotten my pip-boy at camp. I’d taken both off, while working on wiring in that translator to the spare one from Vault 81. Having no way of assessing potential injuries simply would not do.
Halfway through the return trip, I realized I’d brought Dogmeat with me instead of leaving him to guard. I managed to make myself move a little faster. That .44 was no guarantee of safety, not if the alien simply couldn’t get up.
Once back, I could at least be sure that nothing happened. No blue blood seeping through the shack’s foundation. I grabbed the pip-boy, ordered Dogmeat to patrol, and prepared to leave before the daylight faded.
That’s a bit cold, isn’t it? Leaving without even checking on your guest?
I was leaving so I could build a fence for its protection, but… a quick check couldn’t hurt. Just to make sure nothing happened, right? Yeah. Sure. I had the time. Though maybe barging straight in wasn’t the brightest idea, not when I had just given it a revolver.
I knocked twice, and tried to lower my voice to a more soothing register. I had no idea if my hacked-together translator abomination would work, so tone was key. Before I could even speak, I heard a wild scrambling from the inside.
“Don’t— please don’t k-kill me, human, I’ll… I’ll do anything.”
…I guess I should be glad the translator worked? What the hell was that?
“I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise. Is it OK with you if I come inside?”
“I… Y-Yes.”
I gave Dogmeat a strong look to stay back, and cracked open the door. The terrified sniveling over the translator couldn’t have prepared me for what met my gaze.
A few weeks ago, I’d heard a heart-wrenching noise while poking around the edge of the glowing sea; a lone radstag doe, torn literally in half by a deathclaw. The beast was scared off by an approaching Vertibird, leaving the doe to wail helplessly until I put it out of its misery.
I had nothing else I could compare the alien to. It was shaking like an aspen leaf, eyes screwed shut and body curled up against the wall. The gun was still technically in its hand (claw?), but pointed at nothing. Just looking at the thing made me feel helpless.
But I brought it back from the brink of death. Soothing terror would surely be easier than saving its life.
—
Memory Transcription Subject: Rania, Gojid Civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: Error 560 (estimated date: Unknown)
Protector. Please, give me strength. It’s… It’s going to…
No. It just wants to talk. Rania, get a hold of yourself.
I cracked open an eye. Tears largely blinded me from the horrifying details of the predator, but the human still towered over me, casting an engulfing shadow over my weakened form. It was all I could do to not further embarrass myself with incoherent pleading.
It seemed to take notice of my fear, crouching down to roughly eye level.
“You’re OK. I’m not going to hurt you, no matter what. What’s your name?”
“R-Rania.” I forced another eye open. The human had moved itself to a chair. Soft daylight illuminated a pair of forward-facing eyes, but no predatory scowl. It had an expression which could be mistaken for solemn sympathy on another species. But it had no reason not to be sincere. There was no other audience, nor anything I could do to escape. Could it really be concerned?
“Rania. My name is Nate. Can you tell me… what you are?”
“Just Nate? I— I thought humans had two names.”
“Oh, uhh… Nathan Dunne. I just go by Nate.”
I noticed a distinct look of confusion engulf the human’s face. Actually, I started to notice a lot of things. It wasn’t just the building and translator that were so clearly improvised. It— Nate’s armor was clearly not standard-issue anything. Nor the weapon on his side, some sort of pistol made seemingly from scrap.
He didn’t look like a UN soldier, nor a civilian of any type. And… just now… did he ask what I was? How could he not know?
“I’m a… I’m a G—Gojid. Does that mean anything to you?”
He shook his head, which even I knew was a human gesture for no. “Not as such. I might need to work out some issues with the translator, though, so don't count on it meaning—”
“The Federation? The cradle? Venlil? Arxur? UN?”
A bizarre shudder passed through Nate. “I know about the UN, though I can’t imagine how they’re relevant now… and no to the rest.”
“I can’t imagine how they’re relevant”!? What the hell could that mean?
“What— what does the UN mean to you?”
Again, that shudder, like a shadow cast over his soul. “They were a global group, trying to keep international peace. When the first Resource wars sparked… they collapsed like a house of cards. 2052. I was 12. After that, it…” he trailed off, before forcing himself to speak. “It all went to hell. As you can see.”
I couldn’t speak for shock. Predators were deceitful by their nature, yet I knew in my heart his words were sincere. It was plain as day, etched across his face. And if so… What the hell? What the hell!? What was any of that?
“As you can see? What do you mean?”
“Can you walk?”
Should I reveal my weakness? I don’t see any way he couldn’t notice my condition by now, so maybe I can get some sympathy for it?
“I… no, I don’t think so…”
“Then I can carry you outside. If you want, I mean. You’ll see what I meant by ‘went to hell’ real quickly.”
He’d have to… oh Protector, if he chose to carry me to slaughter, there’d be nothing I could do. But by this point, my fear was starting to wear thin from weariness. Curiosity was slowly taking the upper hand.
“S-show me.”
And just like that, the world moved out from under me. Instinctively, I grasped the human’s artificial pelt like a pup clinging to its mother. Light flooded my still tearstained eyes. I blinked them clear, and looked out on the world.
​
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Memory Transcription Subject: Rania, Gojid Civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: Error 560 (estimated date: Unknown)
Was this Earth? This couldn’t be Earth. Earth was green, wasn’t it?
Yellow foliage, grey trees. A soft blue sky, intermittently broken up by concrete highways that towered towards the clouds. And on the horizon, the mammoth corpse of a city, a metal carcass that dominated the skyline.
No green. No life. Not even wind. The whole scene was eerily still, seemingly frozen in time.
Unable to make sense of the wider world, my attention drifted closer. A ring of ramshackle fencing, a larger building that I might mistake for a house. An ancient hand-worked water pump. A plot of vegetables. A beast with glistening fangs, bounding towards—
“Dogmeat, no. Stay.”
Somehow, impossibly, the beast heeded the command, slowing down enough for me to get a better look at my imminent demise. Long brown fur with black markings, a swishing tail, a red fabric tied around its neck. Forward-facing eyes gleaming with hideous intelligence. It sat down, tilting its head and letting out a shrill whine.
“You still haven’t met Dogmeat yet, have you— Rania? Rania!”
I couldn’t breathe. It was looking straight at me. I thought the human was terrifying, but this thing made it look harmless. Did Nate not realize the danger he was in?
“N— No! Please… don’t let it…”
“It’s not going to hurt you either. You’re OK. Breathe.” Nate turned slightly, shielding the beast from view. “Here. We can go back inside if he scares you too much.” I managed to choke out an affirmation, and felt darkness overtake me as we rushed back into the relative safety of the shack. The door clicked shut, sealing the beast outside.
“Rania, talk to me. Can you breathe?”
“Please… please don’t feed me to it…”
Nate’s eyes went wide, and his hand rose to cover his mouth. I didn’t know much human body language (aside from the vicious snarl they called a smile), but shock was a constant across almost every species. His eyes cast around the room wildly, his breathing becoming erratic before he managed to regain control.
“Rania, I— I’m not going to feed you to him. You— listen, I won’t even let him in. It’s safe here.” He clearly had something else to say, and silently struggled with the words for a moment before finding his phrasing. “Can you tell me why you’re so scared? What happened before I found you?”
The words took several moments to consciously register, but their effect was immediate. If Nate was trying to startle me out of my fear, he couldn’t have done a better job. When I spoke, it was with startling clarity as fear was replaced by near-indignant confusion.
“How could I not be scared? You’re predators. Even if… even if you really don’t want to kill me, seeing injured prey must be a powerful temptation to your instincts, no? Not to mention the invasion of the cradle; even if you do have empathy, why try to save an enemy species?”
A few moments of stillness, and then I mimicked his previous motion of shock as I realized what I’d done. If he somehow didn’t know the situation with the Gojid before, he did now. Even prey empathy didn’t extend to their sworn enemies. My stupid thoughtless rambling meant I was good as dead.
“Rania.” Nate’s words were slow, soft, and measured. “I don’t know where you come from or what the situation is out… up there. But I can promise you this.” He tapped my shoulder, snapping me out of my terrified reverie and forcing me to pay full attention. “I’m never going to hurt you. I’ll keep it safe here, as long as it takes for you to heal. You can hold me to that.”
“Safe… even safe from that monster..?”
Nate looked deeply hurt, but quickly covered it up with his previous expression of concern. “Yes. I wish I could prove to you that my dog is friendly, but… if he scares you that much, I’ll find somewhere else for him.”
He stole a glance out the window, before turning back to me. “Listen. I need to get some supplies for the fence while there’s still light. I’ll take Dogmeat with me. Do you know how to use this?” He gestured towards the gun, still sitting where I’d carelessly let it slip from my claws minutes earlier.
“Y-yes.”
Apparently seeing straight through my lie, he bent down to show me. “Here, you just need to pull back the hammer. Finger over the trigger, and line up these sights on your target. Only pull the trigger when you know you have your shot.”
Nate stood up, putting one hand on the door before remembering something. “If you start hurting, you can use this.” He set a syringe down on the table. “Just stab wherever it hurts. The pack’ll do the rest for you. I’ll be back at sundown.”
And just like that, he was gone.
​
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Memory Transcription Subject: Rania, Gojid Civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: Error 560 (estimated date: Unknown)
For a while, I just sat there, gun in hand and mind slowly dissolving from all the new information weighing it down. But boredom is a powerful thing, and even injured as I was, restlessness started to take hold.
With the beast gone, and gun in hand, I started convincing myself that it might be a good idea to get another look at the land. I needed to know what I had to work with in case… something happened. And I swore I saw a vegetable garden earlier. Curiosity was getting the better of me.
I tested my legs again. One was sore, but shockingly capable. The other was still burning when I applied pressure, and swaddled in bandages. I didn’t particularly feel like knowing what was under there. One leg would have to do. I didn’t need my legs to shoot, after all.
Cautiously, without making a sound, I cracked the door open. Nobody was out there. I took one shaky step. Then another. Inch by silent sore inch, I made my way over to the “house”.
Like everything out here, it was a rough-hewn heap of rusted metal and thick planks of wood. On closer inspection, however, some care had clearly been put into making it insulated. The windows even had glass (albeit covered in dust), rather than the screen mesh in my shack. This must be where the human lives.
What could Nate be hiding from me?
My curiosity burned brighter than the pain in my leg as I ambled towards the door. Unlocked. I peeked inside.
Thick layers of carpet. A fireplace on the wall, a couple paintings. A mattress much better-maintained than mine, pushed up under one of the windows.
No blood dripping from cages. No hunting trophies on the walls. No indication that this was the lair of a predator. If not for the construction materials, it could be mistaken for a house back on the cradle. It even has refrigeration and lights, without a functional power grid. I guess that predatory cunning comes in handy.
I already knew what the fridge must be filled with. I made the decision not to look. It’d be better if Nate didn’t know I was here, and that’d be pretty hard to hide with vomit all over his carpet. I couldn’t stop myself from looking in one of the cabinets, though. The thing was stuffed with cans of food, nearly full to bursting. Some were clearly homemade, some looked like they’d been excavated from the dirt. Maybe they had been.
My good leg was starting to ache, cutting my exploration short. With no small hesitation, I forced myself back outside, back to the shack where I could rest up a bit.
—
I was only steps away from the door when a horrifying sight stopped me in my tracks. Dead animals, three of them. Sickly looking things, but recognizably the same species as that ‘Dogmeat’. I couldn’t look away. Was Nate hunting before I woke up? I stepped closer, morbid curiosity dowsing my pain. I don’t see any bite marks. And… predators don’t eat other predators.
​
Did he kill them to protect me?
Humans were apex predators on their planet. It couldn’t have been self-defense. Nor could it have been hunger, if he’d just left them to rot. So… what other reasons would he have to fight?
I looked closer, my eyes meeting a series of glassy stares. Two of them looked literally skin and bones, but the third looked a lot like Dogmeat. Mouth closed, eyes staring up at the sky unseeing. I almost felt bad for it.
“I wish I could prove to you that my dog is friendly, but… if he scares you that much, I’ll find somewhere else for him.”
Did Nate feel any conflict, having to shoot them on my behalf? Was he going to shoot Dogmeat too, just to ease my fears? He clearly cared about the beast, but if he thought “keeping me safe” meant…
​
No. I wouldn’t let it come to that. I had to overcome my fear. If I wanted to survive, I needed to be stronger.
Reaching out to the body, arm trembling, I ran a claw down its side. It was soft… still warm, too. The thought that this predator had been alive so recently, only to be put down for my safety, managed to elicit a twinge of sorrow. That feeling, hold on to that. Force it through your fear.
My movements got bolder, even exploring the rows of sharp teeth hidden by a clenched jaw. And the soft fur on its underbelly… its long tail, which sat limp and unmoving on the dust. I could feel my fear begin to fade more and more with every second I sat next to the body of this predator.
Eventually, I forced myself to rise. As I walked back to my bed, I stole one last glance backwards. Instead of horrifying predators, all I saw was a family of three. That they had to die so I could live… the thought filled me with a strange sense of shame.
I couldn’t stand there forever. My poor legs wouldn’t allow it. Back to the bed, step by shaky step.
​
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Memory Recovery Subject: Nathan Dunne, sole survivor of Vault 111
Date: December 13th, 2287
Hauling sheet metal was no easy task, even with the help of a dog. It was dark by the time I got home; I’d missed my appointment with the sunset by nearly half an hour.
Supplies stowed away, armor shed, weapons holstered. I rummaged around the fridge for a radstag fry I’d prepared a couple days ago. I didn’t have the energy to cook, and I still needed to check in with Rania. Dogmeat hovered around my ankles, performing his best puppy impression.
These might be the last meals you get to eat with him. I gave a few scraps for his unconvincing performance.
I knew the minutemen would take good care of him, and Valentine could make good use of his nose. But saying goodbye would be a challenge. He’d had my back practically since I escaped Vault 111, and casting him aside felt like nothing short of a betrayal.
The radstag felt like sawdust in my mouth. I tossed the rest of it to Dogmeat, who looked up quizzically rather than digging in. I knew he was wondering why I was being so generous all of a sudden, but I wasn’t ready to break the news to him yet.
—
“Is it OK with you if I come in?”
The voice responding sounded completely different. Still recognizably Rania, but without the terrified quivering I’d expected. “Yes. We need to talk.”
I slipped inside, taking care not to let out too much heat. The figure facing me, while again still undoubtedly Rania, was otherwise unrecognizable. Sitting up straight, unshaking, looking directly at me. A far cry from the poor creature I’d talked to when I left. He (he? I decided to assume it was male, given the voice from the translator) turned his head slightly to the side, leaving one eye to meet both of mine in what I assumed was an intense stare for a person with side-facing eyes.
“Nate.” Rania’s voice was thick with determination. “I’ve decided… I want to get used to Dogmeat. If he’s really as friendly as you say, you shouldn’t have to get rid of him just because of my fear.”
It was all I could do to suppress a full-bodied sigh of relief. If he’s on the fence on this decision, showing my joy would force his hand. I have to stay calm. “Can I ask why?”
“I, uh… I found the other predators. The feral ones. The ones you shot.”
Oh.
“And I… I don’t want you to have to do the same for him. It doesn’t…” The quivering returned in shades, but he continued. “Even if you meant ‘find somewhere else for him’ literally, you shouldn’t have to do that for my sake.”
“I…” I buried my face in my hands, trying to beat back tears. “Thank you. I couldn’t imagine having to… thank you. I can still keep him away from you if you’re scared. You shouldn’t have to live in fear.”
Rania shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Actually, I was thinking I should… you know, get used to him, not just tolerate him from a distance. Face my fear head-on. Just… not tonight, OK?”
For all that quivering, he’s a lot braver than I thought he’d be.
“Yeah. We can get something worked out later. Right now, you need to rest. I’m not just talking about tonight; you’re still injured. Best you can do right now is rest and eat. Which reminds me… The vegetables I brought you earlier. How were they? Any you really liked?”
“Oh, uhhh… yeah, the orange one was really nice. And that red mushy one wasn’t so pleasant; I could eat it anyway to get full, but I’d rather not. Why do you have so many vegetables, anyway?”
Why wouldn’t I? “What do you mean?”
“Well, I thought… predators eat flesh, right? Were you growing them for decoration? I mean… it was nice to see something green and growing out here, but that seems like a lot of effort!”
I couldn’t manage a verbal response to this. All I could give was a baffled stare, which Rania seemed to interpret as a threat.
“I— I didn’t mean to insult you—”
“No, no, it’s just…” I rubbed my eyes. Hauling sheet metal had sapped all my energy, but I couldn’t just let this slide. “I mean… humans aren’t obligate carnivores. Most predators aren’t; even deathclaws forage for mutfruit when they can. Or does the word ‘predator’ mean something else to you?”
It was Rania’s turn for a blank stare, and I began to wonder if I’d just said something insulting. He looked down, mumbling something the translator couldn’t catch, then turned his attention back. “I think we should talk about this later. I need to rest.”
I knew it was a flimsy excuse (I could practically see his mind overheating as he stared back into the ground), but he wasn’t exactly wrong. I bid my farewell with a solemn nod.
—
The moon cast a picturesque blue light through the windows, giving just enough illumination to fend off sleep. On its own, the meager light couldn’t fight off the exhaustion radiating through my muscles, but Rania’s bizarre outburst was also keeping me up.
Not knowing about the history of our planet was perfectly reasonable, given his alien identity. Being so scared of humans despite apparently knowing about them was strange, but nothing a bit of trauma couldn’t induce. But even schoolchildren knew the basics of the food chain, and I found it hard to believe that a space-faring alien race would be less knowledgeable about ecology than the local population of raiders. Even with no education at all, certain things were obvious by observation.
If nothing else, Rania was right about one thing. We will need to talk about this later.
​
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[Continued in comments]

Here is the story about my SECOND time ending up in the hospital with Rhabdomyolysis. The first time was very similar circumstances.
***Enjoy the novel (or not) but I’m bored on day 7 in the hospital. ***
Background:
I’ve been a recreational athlete all my life. There has been very few times I’ve taken breaks from fitness and training. I consider myself mostly a runner these days (40-50 miles per week in season), but my background over the last 20 years spans over many sports including: contact kickboxing, boxing, ultramarathons & marathons, Brazilian Jiujitsu and CrossFit. I am no stranger to intensity nor volume, however, training throughout the year does ebb & flow in focus. Spring and summer is run focused, winter and fall is strength focused with running in the background.
To give an idea of my fitness: I’m a 40 year old female, 5’4, 118lbs, 16-17% Body fat (InBody scan) and in the context of Murph, my best time was 38:00 Rx a couple years ago. Last year, 42:00 Rx (*running injury had me milking the run).
I do not crossfit on a regular basis anymore. In fact, Murph is the one Crossfit workout I look forward to every year because it’s fun, social and it’s a fun way to gauge my fitness. I’ve done Murph over a dozen times. In the last few years I did Murph 3 weeks in a row w/out any issues. This year, I miscalculated and ended up in the hospital.
Also important to note: typically, in April every year, I begin training for Murph. I’ll start building volume in push ups and pull ups via rounds of CINDY into my workouts every week until Memorial Day Murph. This year, I only did 1 prep session, 3 weeks before memorial day; a scaled Murph: 1 Mile run, 10 rounds of CINDY (vs a full 20 rounds), 1 Mile run, no 14# vest. I finish the workout in 24 minutes and felt good with a little bit of DOMS that lasted a couple days. I fell off this routine and did ZERO push ups or pull ups from that day on until MURPH. Oh how I regret this.
Here’s how it all went down:
5/28 I go for a 2 hour run in warmer than usual weather. Post run, I was covered in salt residue. I was dehydrated. Later that day, I got busy and forgot to properly hydrate aka drink some electrolytes with my water.
5/29 MURPH day! Feeling ok but also knowing I’m de conditioned with pull ups and push ups (Red Flag #1), I opted to skip the 14# vest. Murph is, for time: 1 mile run, 100 pull ups, 200 push ups, 300 air squats, 1 mile run (Red Flag #2 high repetition, body weight movements with eccentric contractions). I felt strong on the runs, decent on pull ups but Murph got hard faster than usual. My push-ups dropped to sets of 4-5, then sets of 3, then 1 at a time, which brings me to red flag #3: pushing through muscle failure.
Immediately after, my arms swelled. Later that day, my arms began to stiffen. I could not bend my arms and it only got worse from there. I hoped for DOMS which I know would get better in a few days. That didn’t happen.
Rhabdo
With rhabdo, intense physical exertion causes so much skeletal muscle damage that your muscles cells die en mass; they break open and sluff off into your circulatory system, where your kidneys have to filter them out. This puts you at risk for acute kidney failure, and in extreme circumstances, cardiac arrest. Your kidneys essentially choke on your own muscle detritus. The swelling muscle tissue also expands within the limits of your fascia and if there isn’t enough room in the fascia’s compartments to accomodate the swell, arteries and nerves get squeezed, causing cascading problems, including potential limb loss. If it gets bad enough, you will need a fasciotomy, where skin and fascia are sliced open to the air to accommodate the swelling tissue. Don’t google it — it’s not pretty.
5/30 - 6/1 Arms are intensely sore with limited range of motion and gradually swelling. I could barely bring a glass of water to my mouth. My arms are in pain at rest. It is hard to differentiate between normal delayed onset muscle soreness and Rhabdo, but online comments echo the common warning: if your urine darkens, get to ER. My urine was dark but not a brown color. I’m still in denial and carry on drinking tons of water. Pain is getting worse, arms are swelling more and more. Range of motion worse. My husband had to get me dressed for work, and I could not feed myself so I barely ate. My gut tells me something is wrong.
6/2 With things getting worse each day, i called my primary care doctor to avoid the ER. He sends me for bloodwork and decide next steps.
Creatine-Kinase (CK) is an enzyme inside muscle cells, so blood CK levels show how much muscle detritus is choking up your kidneys. My bloodwork comes back with CK levels at 42K (normal levels for female are <200ul). My doctors calls with the results and orders me to go to the ER asap. I check into the ER and they draw blood again…CK is up to 52K. I get admitted to ER with IV to flush out my system.
Bloodwork showed my kidneys were working fine, but they could fail at any time. The docs ramped me up to the fluid rate of 250 ml/hr meaning that, at least initially, my 5 liters of human blood got diluted with a full liter of solution every hour. I started plumping up like the Michelin man. This was by far the worst part. The original swelling was already bad enough but with the IV, the fluid filled my arms, my skin stretched tight and shiny. My arms swelled to what looked like 2x its normal size.
Swelling peaked the next couple days making it difficult for the phlebotomist to find veins on my arms and draw blood. My arms, once praised from phlebotomists for having awesome, plump veins became practically invisible. The blood draws become dreadful, each one bringing on multiple pokes leaving behind bruises. They resorted to the tops of hand and by day 3, I looked like a drug addict with track marks.
6/3 CK levels barely drop to 49K (previously 52K). I’m pounding water, peeing 2-3 times an hour.
6/4 CK levels go UP to 60K. I’m so swollen. I’m cranky. I still can’t feed myself very well. I’m crying because i miss my family. This sucks. Drink more water.
6/5 CK levels 43K. Ok please let’s keep this going. Dr decide to drop IV rate to 200mL/hr. All the swelling is making my skin very itchy and inflamed! Drink, pee, repeat.
6/6 CK levels 29K. Oh thank god.
6/7 CK levels 16K. Please let me out. Dr’s want me to stay until it drops somewhere between 5K-10K. They drop IV to 125ml/hr and then to 75ml/hr to help maintain progress but help with the edema. I request for a 2nd blood draw that evening to maybe get out that night. Results that night showed a slight increase to 17K…I start to mentally unravel feeling like I’m never gonna be discharged.
6/8 CK levels 10K! Swelling is still to the max despite lower IV rate. Drs felt good that despite dropping the IV rate my levels still came down overnight and kidneys have been perfect. Drs said as long as i keep with water, no strenuous physical activity for the next few days i had their blessing to be discharged. After 6 nights in the hospital, I get to go home!
I get home and am still swollen to the max. I have just enough mobility in my right arm to wash my hair and wash my face. Not being to move about freely and indecently takes a huge emotional toll on me. As much as i miss my family, I’m still cranky from the pain and discomfort. The creases in the front of my elbows are inflamed and tender and super itchy. It feels like I’m still such a long way to feeling like myself again.
Day 1 after hospital discharge, swelling is noticeably down by 50%! I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Drinking and peeing every hour.
Day 2 post hospital, swelling wise, I’m almost back to normal (~90%). I still have some edema in my upper arms where the fluids kinda pooled while i was sleeping with my arms elevated. Skin still so itchy. Using hydrocortisone to soothe the itch. Water fest continues.
The first time I got rhabdo, it was the pull ups that did me in. I remember not being able to do a single or half a strict pull up weeks after the hospital. I had always been able to do 15-20 strict pull ups! I had to build them back up from ground zero. I eventually got there though. That said, I’m curious to see how my push ups will be impacted after a full recovery. I would not be surprised if I can’t do a single push in the next few weeks.
I will see my primary dr in 2 days for more bloodwork to check my CK levels before clearing me for any exercise. He says to expect for regular bloodwork until it normalizes.
Takeaways: You can be fit and get Rhabdo, in fact, you can be high risk. The recipe for rhabdo in athletes is returning from a break and jumping full bore into a different or new form of workout especially with high volume, eccentric exercises.
Being stuck in the hospital, I reflected back on many “what-if’s”. What if I didn’t go for that long run the day before? What if i just hydrated properly during/after that run? What if I just slowed down during Murph and not race the clock? I don’t know but I will be overly conservative doing any high volume, high intensity workout especially if I’m in any way not ramped up for it. I will remember the swelling of my arms and how bad it hurt. Or the fear of doing permanent damage over a stupid workout!!!
Why did this happen a 2nd time for me? Ego and bad judgement; something i have struggled with all my life in training. I really thought i made improvements to set ego aside but it crept back up. I’m married now with 2 kids and i can’t afford to be this dumb lol. I’ve assigned my husband to oversee my training choices (specifically when I’m thinking about jumping back to a different form of exercise) and I’ve hired a coach to help me reign things in.
Let it be a cautionary tale. Train smart and safe!
Peace & Love,
T

FYI, this is a story COLLECTION. Lots of standalones technically. So, you can basically start to read at any chapter, no pre-read of the other chapters needed technically (other than maybe getting better descriptions of characters than: Adam Vir=human, Krill=antlike alien, Sunny=tall alien, Conn=telepathic alien). The numbers are (mostly) only for organization of posts and continuity.
OC Written by Charlie Stastarrfallknightrise,
Typed up and then posted here by me.
Proofreading and language check for some chapters by u/Finbar9800
Future Lore and fact check done by me.
That moment you finally get to see the supersexy alien space siren everyone was talking about and you realize it is you yourself…
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Adam leaned his head against the bars.
His stomach growled horribly and his head ached. It was almost like having a really bad hangover, except without the memories of having fun or doing stupid shit the night before. Instead, he was suspended in a cage high in the air, watching as the ugly ass Prodigum galumphed around the room preparing it for his next 'guests'.
He would have used a more normal word to describe how the creature moved, except for this thing was nasty, like Jaba the Hutt level ugly. Sort of made him feel like Han Solo, though he supposed that was supposed to make Sunny princess Leia. The only problem is they didn't have a Luke Skywalker or an R2D2 to come and rescue them.
He sighed as his stomach groaned.
He glanced over at the other cages, making a face at the bleached white skeleton which hung in one, and at the two humans sitting in the other.
They looked horrific.
His stomach growled again.
"Don't worry."
His cage neighbor said,
”You get used to it after a while."
"What?”
"The hunger.”
"Do they not feed you?"
The other human shook their head,
"No, that's how it works here. They put us in these cages and then use us for entertainment while we slowly starve to death, and then, once we are dead, they feed on our decomposing corpses."
The commander made a face,
"Shit, that is really, really disgusting."
She shrugged,
"You don't seem so worried."
He held up his hands,
"I can start crying if that would make you more convinced, but otherwise I don't see much use in freaking out."
"I suppose that is a good way to do things. Who knows, the clients might actually like you, and they might bother to feed you longer."
"How do you make the clients like you?"
She waved a hand,
"Ignore what the Prodigum said, they know a good singer when they hear one."
She patted her throat,
"That's why I'm not going to last long."
"Tone def?"
"No, I'm actually a voice coach, but due to extenuating circumstances, I'm not supposed to be singing for my own health."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
He groaned and leaned back against the cage,
"I'm gone in that case."
She leaned up against the cage,
"Why, you tone def too?"
"Not hardly. I can carry a tune, but I'm not a solo act. I'm sort of just average."
"For fear of sounding too much like a voice coach. Most people are only average because they weren't trained to be good. It's all about breath control, then anyone can be pretty good."
"Well then I'll just have to-"
He was cut off in that moment as the lights over his head began to flash. He looked towards the door and watched as the doors were thrown open. The Prodigum opened his huge, ugly arms wide as his guests entered the room.
Adam stood inside his cage to get a better look, displeased when he watched more of the Prodigum, Burg and a couple of Tesraki coming in. He thought he even saw an Iotin or two somewhere in there, or was that a Gromm? They filtered into the room as the 'slaves' were dragged onto the floor.
He pressed up against the bars as he saw Sunny being dragged onto the floor.
Both sets of her hands, her feet and her neck had all been chained together. She could barely move, though she was still being forced to carry a tray of drinks.
"Welcome my friends, welcome please come in, we have something new for you today and-"
His voice was mostly drowned out by the intervening voices.
He tried leaning closer to hear, and was only able to tell what was going on when the Prodigum turned towards him and held out a hand,
"Behold, the long reaching arm of my empire."
There was a sudden muttering around the room as so many impressed clients recognized Adam.
He made a point of flipping them all the bird and spitting out the bars towards one of the Burg, who leaped away with a hiss. He laughed,
"And there's more where that came from assholes."
The Prodigum gurgled in amusement, the little breathing tubes on the side of its neck opening and closing with a wet sort of slapping noise. The commander grimaced,
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, commander.”
He motioned with one hand towards Sunny, and at that moment he watched as a group of others moved forward, grabbing her by the chains and throwing her to the floor.
She choked against the chain around her neck.
"SUNNY!"
"This really is simple, commander. Behave or she dies. These are the rules. You sing, and when we want the song changed, we will throw something at you. Don't do what we want and your friend here gets it."
He grinned, his floppy bulbous cheeks dangling down towards the ground, as the little face tentacles wriggled about in the air,
"Now, get to work."
He glanced over at Sunny, his first instinct to tell the guy to screw off, but when he looked over at Sunny, and saw her pinned against the ground. Well, he knew he couldn't do anything. He licked his dry lips and took a deep breath.
Perhaps his first song shouldn't have been an adlipped ditty that began with the line.
”Suck a dick.”
Sung with great gusto and feeling, and definitely shouldn't have been followed up with the line.
”You big ugly cock sucker.”
He was stopped a moment later when some random object was launched at his head.
He fell back against the cage, suddenly alerted by Sunny's cries of pain.
He turned over to see the Prodigum pressing his hand spike into her back.
He grimaced,
"Alright, alright! Stop, just let me think of a song ok?”
Off in the other cage, the two other humans were chuckling to themselves,
"Nice On that last line. I really enjoyed the use of vibrato, you know especially on the cocksucker part. Try to get a deeper breath next time though"
"You gonna teach me to sing before we all die?”
The crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the bars,
"I'm going to try and keep you alive for as long as I can. For your sake and for your friend down there. I am also hoping, that since you are the commander, you have some sort of panic transponder on you, and that helping you will help me survive long enough to get out of here."
"Fair."
"Hurry up human! I don't have all day!”
Close to panic he began to sing the only thing he could think of in the moment.
The ABC song.
Yeah, sure it wasn't one of his greatest moments, but he was under pressure.
That didn't go over so well, and he had to duck out of the way as a can came soaring up towards his head.
The party was almost in full swing now.
At a time like this, he had to go back to his roots. When he was a kid, his mother had always been a fan of music from the late 20th and early 21st centuries. He had carried her love onto his adult life, so that's all he could think of on such short notice.
He went for a little Journey to start off with though he knew he wasn't nearly good enough to do any of the songs justice.
Unfortunately he did not have a nine octave range to work with.
…
Yet?
You know how they say, don’t stop believing!
He honestly couldn't help throwing in a few songs with lines like:
“I hate everything about you”, assuming that the context would be enough that he wouldn't get something chucked at his head, but apparently he wasn't fooling anyone.
Across from him, the Vocal coach was leaning against her bars, prompting him with comments when she could be heard over the conversation from below.
Wake Me Up
Numb
Creep
Iris
It's Not My Time
"Shoulders back, try breathing from your belly and not your chest, make it deeper, open your mouth a little more. Try using an O and not an A on that line next time."
They were somewhere in between Sweet Dreams and Boulevard of Broken Dreams when his voice began to falter. The coach insisted that he needed to breathe better to last longer.
But he was so tired.
His voice was beginning to crack and he was growing light headed.
Below him on the floor he caught eyes with Sunny who was being dragged behind the Prodigum.
Unwell
You and Me
Drops of Jupiter
He was dying. Did he even remember what songs were? He was pretty sure he didn't even listen to some of these, but songs he heard when he was a kid were mostly sustaining him. Most of the songs he knew he wouldn't be able to pull off.
Kryptonite
One Last breath
My Immortal
He was ninety percent sure if any of these long dead artists could hear him singing from rock n' roll heaven whey were getting to rock and roll him straight into hell for his egregious sins.
The sound of Silence.
He broke into a coughing fit.
Something hit him through the bars and he tried to control his breathing, as he choked back into life.
What now?
Disney songs?
Um hold on? Which ones?
He was going to die here, singing Let It Go in the voice impression of a dying toad, and that would be his legacy.
Heaven or hell, whichever, it was going to be awkward.
He barely noticed when the doors were opened again and people began to trickle out. He only noticed when the vocal coach yelled his name, and he looked up from his state of misery finally allowed to break into a horrendous coughing fit.
"That was pretty good for someone who doesn't sing, but I think we can work on your breathing and your technique, otherwise you are going to destroy yourself. Plus, if you keep singing rock songs we are going to have to teach you how to use distortion properly."
He groaned, falling onto his side one hand clutched onto one of the bars as the cage gently swayed back and forth.
Beneath him, Sunny looked up with an expression of worry, though she was dragged away and out of the room before he could do or say anything.
He held his hand out, but she vanished out the door.
This was a really shit day.
Krill had been right when he had complained that the commander needed a panic button.
Honestly, he hadn't thought he would be kidnapped again, but it turns out he was pretty wrong about that.
He wondered where the rest of the crew was, and what they were thinking.
Where did they assume he and Sunny had gone.
Did they even know something was off?
He was so thirsty.
He was definitely expecting to die here.
Because he had no good plans this time.
"You know why they like humans singing so much right?"
He groggily turned his head to the side where the vocal coach was sitting, her hands clasped in her lap before her.
He shook his head.
"It can affect the emotion of the Prodigum. I know it sounds weird, but I have been watching. The better the singing is, the better it works. Happy songs make them happy, angry songs piss them off etc. etc. Even more so than humans."
"And?"
She shrugged,
"I don't know, just an interesting thought…"
He rested his head back on the cage floor.
Sure, being a siren was kind of cool, but being a siren in a cage very much was not cool.
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Intro post by me
OC-whole collection
Patreon of the author
Thanks for reading! As you saw in the title, this is a cross posted story written by starrfallknightrise and I'll just upload some of it here for you guys, if you are interested and want to read ahead, the original story-collection can be found on tumblr or wattpad to read for free. (link above this text under "OC:..." ) It is the Empyrean Iris story collection by starfallknightrise. Also, if you want to know more about the story collection i made an intro post about it, so feel free to check that out to see what other great characters to look forward to! (Link also above this text). I have no affiliations to the author; just thought I’d share some of the great stories you might enjoy a lot!
Obviously, I have Charlie’s permission to post this and for the people already knowing the stories, or starting to read them: If you follow the link and check out the story you will see some differences. I made some small (non-artistic) changes, mainly correcting writing mistakes, pronoun correction and some small additional info here and there of things which were not thought of/forgotten or even were added/changed in later stories (like the “USS->UNSC” prefix of Stabby, Chalar=/->Sunny etc). As well as some "biggemajor" changes in descriptions and info’s for the same stringency/continuity reason. That can be explained by the story collection being, well a story collection at the start with many standalone-stories just starring the same people, but later on it gets more to a stringent storyline with backstories and throwbacks. (For example Adam Vir has some HEAVY scars over his body, following his bones, which were not really talked about up till half the collection, where it says it covers his whole body and you find out via backflash that he had them the whole time and how he got them, they just weren't mentioned before. However, I would think a doctor would at least see these scars before that, especially since he gets analyzed, treated and goes shirtless/in T-shirts in some stories). So TLDR: Writing and some descriptions are slightly changed, with full OK from the author, since he himself did not bother to correct these things before.

I am a recent grad aiming to secure a full-time role as a data analyst, I've been utilizing the same resume for the past couple of months but haven't received any calls. I'm seeking feedback on what aspects need to be changed or corrected. It's important to note that I am an international student currently on my Optional Practical Training (OPT) with my unemployment days already initiated. For more context my masters is in the us and my bachelor's and job experience are in India.

Worked at a carbon fiber parts production company through a temporary work contract. Here's how things went. I interviewed and the interviewer said I was "too perfect". The company offered me a position I didn't apply for. I took their offer.
I met the lead of the neighboring department and he left and then immediately told others I was nervous which I thought was weird.
The coworkers and boss told me I dressed extremely well for the job and I recieved an abundance of compliments about my attire. I decided to return some basic compliments like "Nice jacket" and "Cool shoes" and was pulled into hr, because someone felt targeted by my compliments. So I told human resources I would no longer compliment anyone's attire. I still recieved an abundance of compliments so I stopped wearing nice clothes and wore basic clothes instead.
Turns out I was really good at the spot I was in and had a significantly low margin of mistakes compared to others before me. They were really behind in the department I was in. After six weeks I had finished all the work in the department that piled up so my coworker in the department and I were cross trained in other departments. My trainer had grinded several previous bits into other parts and spent several hours making non work related projects for fun on the clock. I never did that.
During cross training two coworkers jokingly threw projectiles at me and then complained to my boss when I told them to knock it off. One thrown object was a sqaure of sandpaper thrown ninja star style that hit me in the face nearly knicking me in the eye and the other was a ball of tape. The lead in the department I trained for complained that I was hostile after he asked me to leave and I said "You said that" He complained to hr.
As I was telling my departments coworker my boss came up to me and asked me what happened and apparently the lead and I's story didn't line up. Apparently, he and the other coworkers that threw projectiles at me complained afterwards. I explained the lead kept putting me down while I kept making sure the conversation steered towards mutual happiness. Afterwards the following day I was given a new task which I performed quickly and easily. I was informed the lead wasted time and didn't meet deadlines. He told me I was slowing his department down even though we accomplished more tasks that I voluntarily assisted after completing my own work.
Then they told me to empty filters outside in the open air, that's a Environmental protection agency violation.
After four weeks I requested a referral based on work performance for a different job opportunity from my boss in Alaska. My boss called me selfish and and gaslight me with his need for a rock solid team calling me a non team player. Then said he couldn't hold it against me. I used him as a reference anyway because he seemed somewhat nice but I think he ruined the offer, all my non boss references were met with positivity by the company boss offering the job, after all that, he was gonna take me till I realized he was choosing an unsafe team of three people to work on the bearing sea, two of which had never been on the barring sea, I mentioned to make a safe decision and he chose a more experienced fisherman for the job, he then told me to visit him if i'm ever at Kodiak. Great guy, was awesome talking to him.
After talking to the guy that threw sandpaper at me he told me he wanted to take his kids camping but needed some things, I offered him a camping stove to use whenever he went camping.
I then attempted to re-hang a fallen conduit because the department members I was cross training with told me they'd tripped over the conduit repeatedly and to be careful and after a month and a half no electrician had been called. I grinded a screwdriver for the Philips head bit to use in a screwdriver because we didn't have any bits but an excess of screwdrivers in the same size. My trainer had trimmed bits to his needs several times before me. I have basic electrical experience but was just performing basic drywall installation so that me and the other workers were safe after such a long period of time without safety correction.
I bought my trainer that had terrible money management skills food when he couldn't afford any a handful of times and took him to the food bank on lunchbreak because he had never gotten food from a foodbank before and was skipping breakfast and lunch because he was so broke. I even helped him make the decision to not move into an alcoholic BPD afflicted person's home when asked for advice. and shared knowledge about making his apartment safe when he had CPS issues. He likes his new space greatly.
We went fishing even! Met his girlfriend and him for a fishing adventure and they told me they like me. He didn't have the resources to properly clean his apartment for a CPS investigation so I offered assistance. He didn't have transportation to the bank so I offered to drive him their during lunch. He gave me a drill press and welding mask as a way to get rid of excess clutter in his apartment. I offered to jump another coworkers car and I brought food to an after work weekly social event. I was helping put together a BBQ for work.
Today I was informed my work assignment with the company was ended by hr and my boss. I reported the carbon fiber filter dumping to the EPA and will have a new assignment from my agency on Monday. My roommate offered me an apprenticeship and reference to his company paying several more dollars per hour.

Hello!

​
It has been a couple of days since i made my first post here and it got removed by some fucking spamfilter. BEEP BOOP I AM HUMAN!
Reason might be my nonexistent karma, but i am still going to do this second post. First i wanted to create some kind of a silly gimmick by cursing a lot, but i already got tired of it. I hope that this post stays up and gets 1-2 views, or none.
I feel terrible, sleep deprived and mentally exhausted. I dont even work anymore and my countrys version of welfare did not get trough so i am kinda screwed. My job ended roughly one month ago and i got pretty hefty final paycheck, which would have allowed me to get by until i find another job, but my gambling addiction said otherwise.
I lost it all in like two hours. several thousand euros flushed straight to toilet. This has been a problem since i turned 18 and it has been getting worse. Although my salary was more than enough for me to live comfortably, it got stretched thin because of this. I tried to get help, but it was no use. I have hurt people around me and mostly myself.
Fortunately my debt is small, so it is not impossible for me to turn my life over, but there is no willpower. I am miserable human being and i dont think i can take this much longer. I still have some people around me who (atleast i want to think) care about me, so I'm not pulling the "plug" atleast yet. I'd lie if i said that the thought about it did not cross my mind every once in a while. I have "tried" it previously, but with no success. Those were not even serious attempts, rather cries for help, but all i got was some pills and shoe to my ass.
This is enough for now, but i will probably write here couple of days from now if the damn spam filter stops deleting my posts.
​
See ya!

It’s that time of year again! Love is in the air along with all the plant jizz, and I am looking for the someone who is willing to venture out into this yellow, dusty mess with me, and then come home and just take a nap before our sinuses close up in anger and we cough ourselves to sleep. I am looking for someone to vent my mundane troubles too, someone that I know would be there to help with whatever may come up, and someone that I can laugh with, someone to cry with, someone that would just run with a crazy idea without hesitation.
Enough about me! Let’s talk about what you may be looking for! Are you looking for that special someone? You know, the one that laugh with on a daily basis. The one that you can have an entire conversation with using nothing but funny pictures? Are you looking for the creepy and the kooky? What about the mysterious and spooky? Would that someone be a person with a mohawk that is forever changing colors? How about a neatly trimmed beard that smells of sandalwood? What about the smell of Old Spice? Would that person also happen to have a few piercings and tattoos? Do you like the twang of a Southern accent? What if that accent was happen to be from a guy who is open minded? Do you enjoy a quick wit? How about being fluent in smartassary? How about a guy that is taking care of way too many fish? How about a guy who is starting to find grey hairs in his beard and is embracing the chance to become a silver fox?
Would you like for that person to be able to build a computer and change your oil all in the same day? How about having your tires rotated, breaks changed? I can even do headlights and air filters! Does the thought of helping turtles cross a busy road and helping tiny tadpoles stay safe with a pool of water during the summer tickle your fancy? Would you like to come home and have a pot roast and chocolate cake waiting for you? How about coming home to that random piece of IKEA furniture fully assembled? What about someone who would help while you built the IKEA? Does the idea of a guy who has reached the level of old that he enjoys puzzles intrigue you? How about if he has a love for cats that like to sit on said unfinished puzzles? Are you looking for a guy who can change your oil, replace your brakes, and cook you dinner in the same day? How about a guy who is good with his hands and knows it? If you answered yes to any of these questions, the nerdy home maker package is for you! Who doesn’t want help around the house, basic maintaince taken care of, and some good dick?
Do you have an endless supply of DIY ideas? Well look no further because I do too! Ever wanted a stylish bat house or raised garden bed? I have made both! Would you want a greenhouse? I have plenty of ideas for that! Do you like watching a guy get dirty restoring canoes or building trailers? Do you have a Mad Max fantasy you want to live out? Do you want a house straight from the shire? I have the skills and the 3d printers to make you swoon with possibilities! If you answered yes to any of these questions, the glistening geek package is for you! What’s not to love about watching someone you like getting sweaty while watching your ideas come to life?
For a limited time, if you pick both packages, I will add in the nerdy outdoorsman package for no extra charge! Want to stay in one weekend and marathon Doctor Who, Star Trek, or Futurama? Do you want to play Don’t Starve Together, DnD, or Civ 6? How about Nerf gun fight, or a game of Mario for bragging rights? Feel like staying up late bundled under a load of blankets watching B movies or playing all manor of video, board, or card games? Feel like getting outdoors instead? I can offer spontaneous adventures that may include wondering aimlessly, hiking, and floating blissfully down a river which singing the PACMAN theme song! Random acts of hilarity that could include striking poses and quoting pop culture references! Are you more of a night owl? I can offer you a view of the stars with my telescope!
How about it? Wanna get itchy eyes and a runny nose with me?