Urban decay lip gloss name drop

March 2023's new fiction podcasts

2023.04.01 16:03 thecambridgegeek March 2023's new fiction podcasts

I've got what I think is a mostly exhaustive list of the new fiction podcasts that came out this month, which may be of interest to those looking for new shows. Feel free to tell me any I've missed, and I'll update it. (Note, "new" here means that the Ep1 of the RSS feed was released.) Listened to any of them that you would recommend?
I've given up trying to include the full list here, as it's increasingly large, and reddit keeps throwing problems. So the full list is here:
https://www.thecambridgegeek.com/posts/2023/04/20230401-a.php
Previous months are available here:
https://www.thecambridgegeek.com/results.php?proof=Releases&tag1=Audio%20fiction

And the ongoing updates (just in case you don't want to wait for the end of the month) are available here:
https://twitter.com/AudioDramaDebut
https://podvibes.co/@audiofictionuk#

Want a weekly email newsletter of all of these as I find them? Join my patreon to get access to that:
https://www.patreon.com/thecambridgegeek
(Please join, it's only £1/month and I currently make a loss with some of the resources I pay for to do this.)

And the full database is searchable here by a number of tags:
https://audiofiction.co.uk/search2.php

Want an RSS feed of new fiction podcast trailers to sample what's out there? Try this:
https://audiofiction.co.uk/trailers.php

African Story Magic with Gcina Mhlophe
Audio Book - Fables and Fairy Tales and Folklore, Storytelling
Step into the wonderful world of African storytelling with Gcina Mhlophe. In African Story Magic, a new East Coast Radio Podcast, Gcina shares many of the tales you grew up with plus new stories – so we can keep the magic of African storytelling alive for new generations. Listen in English or isiZulu and let's keep the magic alive!
First episode: 2023-3-1

FuturePast
Audio Drama - Adaptation, Science fiction
Adapted stories of Science Fiction from the public domain.
First episode: 2023-3-1

Gaming Theater RPG
Audio RPG - Multigenre, Comedy, Fantasy
Welcome to Gaming Theater RPG, where members of the Gaming Theater crew get together to play a tabletop RPG. Our current setting is the ACPD, where our players try to maintain law and order in the fantasy city of Andrea's Cauldron. They'll have to deal with bar brawling adventurers, underground chimera races, magical murder mysteries, and more! Come watch our heroes triumph over evil… or fail spectacularly! Whichever outcome the dice decide.
First episode: 2023-3-1

Greyshading
Audio Drama - Multigenre
An anthology series about the black and white of life, and all the grey in between.
First episode: 2023-3-1

Hot Dice: Actual Play
Audio RPG - Crime and Mystery
Hot Dice: Actual Play is exactly what it sounds like. We create fun actual play series using different RPG systems. Our first audio campaign, Revelations & Redemption, is an actual play, Monster of the Week podcast, following 5 guests and a stowaway at a lavish dinner party hosted by billionaire, CEO & cocaine addict, Jeffery Hudson. Our guests have ulterior motives tonight, but so, it seems, does someone else.
First episode: 2023-3-1

Minds Never Matter Podcast
Audio RPG - Fantasy
Welcome to the Minds Never Matter Podcast! We are a group of 5 friends who wanted to share the story we create while having fun along the way. I know, I know, everyone is creating TTRPG podcasts these days but we are just here to have a reason to bring us together whether its just a few or if it grows to hundreds of people. The current session we are running takes place in the fantasy world of Divitotum where four aspiring adventures take on their hardest challenge yet.... The Adventuring College of Elona.
First episode: 2023-3-1

Penault Pest & Protection
Audio RPG - Horror
Penault Pest & Protection is a monthly audio drama created through tabletop roleplay based on the 2d6 system Monster of the Week. Follow Tiffany, Aisling, Clara, and Seilbh as they struggle to gain a footing in the world of Taranis.
First episode: 2023-3-1

Poltergeist
Audio Book - Horror
Poltergeist is a podcast where we write and read original spooky stories to our audience. Our goal is to provide short story writers a chance to have their work featured on the show, and to give listeners an opportunity to experience new and exciting stories.
First episode: 2023-3-1

TUDO QUE EU QUERIA DIZER ANTES DE MORRER
Audio Book - Slice of life
EPISÓDIO NOVO TODA QUARTA-FEIRA! Podcast de ficção em formato de cartas. É um dia difícil e Ofélia tem vontade de sumir. Fecha os olhos e tenta imaginar como seria outra vida que não essa. Depois do pequeno devaneio, não dá prosseguimento à rotina como fez outras tantas vezes. Junta toda coragem que possui e vai embora. Ela abandona tudo e todos: troca de trabalho, de cidade, de estilo de vida. Mas, embora esteja decidida a deixar para trás aquela que foi um dia, ainda não é possível. Para seguir, precisa falar. Com vocês, os desabafos de Ofélia. Segue a gente no insta: u/dizerantesdemorrer
First episode: 2023-3-1

Vier Weekenden
Audio Book - Romance
Een podcast over een klootzak met een droom door Dario Goldbach. Het verhaal van een jonge twintiger die verward na een relatie met een psychopaat op zoek gaat naar de perfecte liefde en een uitweg. Een uitweg van zijn kutbaan, zijn uitzichtloze leven, zijn doelloze bestaan. Ervaar vier weekenden in vijftien hoofdstukken.
First episode: 2023-3-1

Los sueños cuentan
Audio Book - Multigenre
Un pódcast de relatos inspirados en el universo de los sueños, se trata de un espacio íntimo y emocional, donde intercambiamos técnicas narrativas y conceptos básicos de escritura creativa. Creado y narrado por Andrea Oryza, producido por La Resortera.
First episode: 2023-3-2

Tales After Dark Erotic Audio Dramas
Audio Drama - Erotica
Sexy, Erotic Tales told through a female gaze. Brought to you by the Tales of the Forgotten Fiction Network, Tales After Dark is an anthology series. With new episodes dropping weekly, every month we bring you a different story, and some may have subtle connections to other Tales of the Forgotten Shows.
First episode: 2023-3-2

Thirteen: A Fallout Podcast
Audio Drama - Fanfiction, Post-apocalypse
War. War never changes. In 2161, a lone vault dweller sets out into an unforgiving wasteland on a mission to save his Vault. His travels across a broken post-apocalyptic California will shape history itself for years to come. This is the story of Albert Cole, the Vault Dweller from Vault 13. Thirteen is the story of Fallout 1, given new life in the form of an audio drama. Whether you’ve played the game yourself, or are just now consuming the tale for the first time, we invite you to join us on a journey to find the water chip and save the vault.
First episode: 2023-3-2

Tune Tales
Audio Drama - Comedy
Tune Tales with Kit’n’Tenders is musical story-based podcast for kids exploring the world of classic kids songs. Each episode, our heroes, the girlband, Kit’n’Tenders aka Gabby La La and The Ukulady, meet famous characters from the classic kids songs, like, the Muffin Man, Twinkle the Little Star, Miss Mary Mack, etc… all played by real celebrities! Tune Tales is chock-full of songs, jokes, trivia and fun for the whole family!
First episode: 2023-3-2

Turning Tables
Audio RPG - Fantasy
Turning Tables is a weekly actual play D&D podcast with a twist. You can expect each arc to be DM'd by one of 3 DM's, meanwhile, the other 2 play as characters.
First episode: 2023-3-2

Worlds Beyond Number
Audio RPG - Fantasy
Brennan Lee Mulligan, Erika Ishii, Aabria Iyengar, and Lou Wilson hang out together and use games to make up stories. It's pretty good.
First episode: 2023-3-2

Zom-com
Audio RPG - Post-apocalypse
Zom-com är en rollspelspodd med komiker som spelar Skjut dom i huvudet. Och dör man så dör man. Här råder strikt PERMADEATH! När, en spelares karaktär dör så byts spelaren ut.
First episode: 2023-3-2

Black Box - A Science Fiction Horror Podcast
Audio Drama - Science fiction, Horror
The Homing Box of the U.N.S.E.A. exploratory vessel Bly has returned to Earth after twenty-four years of silence. An investigation has been launched into uncovering what happened to the ship and her missing crew.
First episode: 2023-3-3

Koffer 23
Audio Drama - Crime and Mystery
De Nationale Postcode Loterij heeft een feest georganiseerd ter ere van een nieuw seizoen Miljoenenjacht. Het decor: een afgelegen, oud kasteel. De gasten zijn medewerkers, relaties en bevriende BN'ers. Linda de Mol houdt een gezellig praatje en speelt ter vermaak één rondje Miljoenenjacht met André van Duin. Maar wat blijkt: koffer 23 is verdwenen, met daarin 10.000 euro. De deuren gaan direct op slot. Niemand mag weg voordat deze zaak is opgelost. Tygo Gernandt wordt als detective aangewezen en heeft vijf verdachten op het oog: Nasrdin Dchar, Tina de Bruin, André van Duin, Edson da Graça en Nicolette van Dam. Detective Gernandt heeft zo zijn eigen manier van verhoren, die jammer genoeg niet leidt tot het vinden van de dader. Hij draagt daarom gefrustreerd en moegestreden het dossier over aan jou, de luisteraar. In dit dossier zitten de verhoren met de vijf verdachten, een reconstructie van de avond en andere zinnige of zinloze observaties. Jij kan op basis hiervan de zaak misschien wél oplossen. Help Tygo, vul jouw antwoorden in op www.koffer23.nl en maak kans op 10.000 euro.
First episode: 2023-3-3

Risky Standard
Audio RPG - Science fiction
Risky Standard is an actual-play podcast featuring a group of rowdy best friends playing a variety of tabletop role-playing games to tell stories set in original worlds. Currently playing Beam Saber (by Austin Ramsay) to follow the adventures of a squad of mech pilots fighting for an anarcho-socialist space federation in a revolutionary war against encroaching empire.
First episode: 2023-3-3

Stories From: The Low Season
Audio Book - Multigenre
Stories From: The Low Season is an anthology fiction podcast inspired by the album The Low Season by POOLSIDE. Each song serves an inspiration for a short fiction piece, and the original song is reworked as a dreamy underscore.
First episode: 2023-3-3

End City - A Cyberpunk Red Mini-Series
Audio RPG - Cyberpunk
Welcome, chooms, to our Cyberpunk Red mini-series 'End City'. Things go awry for a group scraping med supplies from the largest corporation in the city... Join CG (Choom Guide) Justin and some truly wonderful friends as we hit the gritty corporate dystopian streets and try to earn a living under the boot of governing forces.
First episode: 2023-3-4

Stories From The Shore - A Modern D&D 5e Mini-Series
Audio RPG - Fantasy
Things have felt a little different in Null Shore lately... things seem a little darker... you catch movements out of the corner of your eye but never see what caused it... and the people... the people have been going missing a lot more frequently lately. Welcome back to the Shore. Join us as we revisit Null Shore with a brand new cast of delightful characters. This mini-series will feature our amazingly skilled friends from Charisma Saving Show and Gut Punch RP.
First episode: 2023-3-4

The Magpie Catalogue
Audio Drama - Experimental and Surreal
Welcome to the Harper Foundation! The most sophisticated organization for storing and categorizing the paranormal in all of New England! But, do be warned... not everything around here is as it seems... Follow the story of a group of researchers trying to solve the mystery of their Boss Henry's mysterious disappearance, where behind every door is a mystery, adventure, and...Violence!
First episode: 2023-3-4

Void: Coriolis Actual-Play
Audio RPG - Science fiction
Coriolis is a beacon of something fresh for politics, trade, and “quality of life”. Others see it as cultural imperialism. Nonetheless, the Icons stir. They are jealous. The Zenithian’s new way beckons the Darkness Between the Stars. Even ghosts from planet Xene currently observe the Council of Factions. The new governor, Kamal Dargosian, is only a year into office and the people are already secretly questioning their capabilities. But amidst this political battlefield is an even more pressing matter -- there is currently a high-rolling contract issued by the Consortium to hire a Free Trader group willing to investigate the Taoan system. As of 2 weeks ago, all contact was lost.
First episode: 2023-3-4

Escuadrón Ifreann (Audio-Libro)
Audio Book - Occult and Supernatural, Thriller and Psychological
Tras diez años trabajando para la Iglesia Católica como investigador paranormal, Sebastián Ifreann profesor de Historia y experto en Demonología, ha perdido el sentido de la vida y las ganas de seguir, comenzando a cuestionar sus capacidades. A pesar de esto, sigue con la rutina de recibir solicitudes de investigación, junto a su equipo de la Parroquia. Hasta que un día aparece un caso que reactivará al equipo, llevándonos a un viaje por los miedos y pesadillas de Sebastián, que lo harán reencontrarse con su pasado y hallar las piezas del rompecabezas de su vida. Escuadrón Ifreann es un viaje por la mente y las vivencias de un joven que se entregó al servicio de luchar contra el mal. Todo lo que leerán es ficción, pero es mi verdad...
First episode: 2023-3-5

Hörspiele sehen – Der Theater ex libris Podcast
Audio Drama - Adaptation
Hörspiele lassen fantastische Welten in unseren Köpfen entstehen: das nebelverhangene London, ein Piratenschiff im Sturm, die Weiten des Weltraums – alles wird vor unserem inneren Auge lebendig und das nur durch die Kraft von Stimmen, Geräuschen und Musik. Beim Theater ex libris kann man Hörspiel sehen - live auf der Bühne. Mit Live-Musik, einer aufwändigen Bildpräsentation und stimmungsvollen Lichteffekten verwandelt das Ensemble Literaturklassiker und eigene Geschichten in spannende Live-Hörspiele. Björn Roguzska (Smackboom) blickt mit Theater ex libris-Gründer Christoph Tiemann hinter die Kulissen der Hörspiel-Shows. Wie spielt man mit fünf Sprecher:innen zwanzig verschiedene Rollen? Wie macht man aus einem fünfhundert-Seiten Roman ein Skript für zwei Stunden Lesezeit? „Hörspiele sehen“ stellt in jeder Folge ein neues Hörspiel aus dem Programm von Theater ex libris vor – und begrüßt als Gast ein spannendes Ensemblemitglied.
First episode: 2023-3-5

Meaningless Problems
Audio Book - Thriller and Psychological, Comedy, Science fiction
An original short story by Doe Wilmann every single week for at least a year. I wanted a platform where I could communicate directly with all the people who like my writing. And yes, I could have invited both of them out for a coffee but they don’t get on. So I’m doing a podcast instead. Will I keep it up? Will anyone listen? Does it matter either way? A mix of styles, genre and quality. Some will be comedies, some will be dramas, some will be sci-fi, and some will be rubbish. Common topics/ themes: The absurd Consciousness Free will Artificial intelligence God The Afterlife Non Duality Eternalism Haircuts Benches Sheds You’ll like this if you like…. Charlie Brooker’s Black Mirror Sum: Tales of the Afterlife by David Eagleman Alan Bennett’s Talking Heads Julian Barnes Kazuo Ishiguro (I realise I’m now just listing writers I like…) Margaret Atwood Oscar Wilde Anton Chekhov George Orwell This is my challenge to write, record and produce a short story every single week for a year. If you’re looking for quality, suspense and intrigue, I’m not making any promises.
First episode: 2023-3-5

Altered State of Affairs
Audio Book - Thriller and Psychological
Altered State of Affairs, the novel, is a tale about an audacious kid from Cleveland Heights who unites in France with a beautiful Mossad agent and an eyeless doll for an adventure of a lifetime. The novel is now a podcast. This is Altered State of Affairs, The Podcast. The show is where the author, Jerald Kasimov, reads from certain chapters of his books and that has conversations about selections and fascinating topics in that specific reading. Here's a summary of the novel: Steven, a freshly-minted Army Ranger and aspiring badass, can’t wait to go after some bad guys—and maybe some bad girls, too. Fortunately, a Soviet master scientist has just defected and is hiding somewhere in the rugged French Pyrenees, and Steven must find him before a sadistic terrorist does. Along the way, he meets a traitor in a field of red poppies, a beautiful Mossad black-ops agent, some delicious cassoulet, and Cindy, the telepathic, eyeless doll. It’s time for Steven, an atypical hero, to man up, but nothing is as it seems—least of all, Steven. The story winds through time from adolescence in 1960s Cleveland Heights to the rigors of present-day Army Ranger training in Fort Benning, non-stop death-defying action, the delights of Israeli cooking, and the tragic yet triumphant history of the Jewish People. Oh, and there’s that beautiful Mossad agent…. But first, Steven has a world to save from a horrific weapon of mass destruction!
First episode: 2023-3-6

Cede Malis
Audio Drama - Horror
Cede Malis is a choose-your-own-adventure surrealist horror podcast in which you have been lured into a house of supernatural horrors by someone who was once your best friend. Now you must make the right choices to survive the eerie night.
First episode: 2023-3-6

Dungeon Calling
Audio RPG - Fantasy
A real-play D&D podcast of high fantasy and low humor. It’s the 1980s, and four almost friends navigate middle school in a small, strange, low-budget town. Can they survive social minefields and the occasional eldritch horror without being expelled, or possibly sued by the Duffer Brothers? Will there be music? Listen to find out.
First episode: 2023-3-6

La Notte più Lunga
Audio RPG - Horror
Un podcast di actual play viking horror ideato da Lotofurente e prodotto da Forgia Storie, direttamente dalle vostre fantasie dell'incubo.
First episode: 2023-3-6

Saga Of The Sages Narrative Podcast
Audio Drama - Fantasy
The Saga Of The Sages Narrative Podcast is a multi-series/multi-season story exploring the histories, lore, and happenings of the ancient civilization known as the Anu. The Anu last reigned 11,600 years ago, before they were wiped off the face of the Earth. Now all we have is the records of their history, and artifacts they have left behind, for the chosen few to discover. Come with us on the journey, that is, the Saga Of The Sages.
First episode: 2023-3-6

The Saga of the Three Bears
Audio Book - Historical
From the idyllic settlement of The Valley, the three children of Chief Ty Williams set out into the wild world with very different hopes, dreams, goals, and plans. Each week, a new chapter of the Saga of the Three Bears is released in audio-book form.
First episode: 2023-3-6

Alpha 8 - The Audio Drama
Audio Drama - Science fiction, Storytelling, Thriller and Psychological
Alpha 8 is a family-friendly sci-fi adventure podcast that explores what happens when a desperate alien from another planet body-swaps with a struggling mom to understand the meaning of family to save her own kind from extinction. We produced the pilot, but need your support to finish the season.
First episode: 2023-3-7

Bird in the Storm Presents
Audio Book - Fantasy
Literary works presented by Bird in the Storm Publishing
First episode: 2023-3-7

Ellen Vahr - Gaven
Audio Book - Historical
«Gaven» er en roman basert på livet til Anne Brannfjell, husmannsdatteren som ble Norges mest kjente kloke kone. Den er en fortelling om frykt og fortielse, men også om kjærligheten og tillitens plass i våre liv, og om mulighetene som åpner seg når vi våger å stå ved oss selv. Siden hun var liten, har husmannsjenta Anne visst at hun er født med en gave, en evne til å se, og et kall til å hjelpe syke og lidende. I stedet for å være stolt over denne gaven, gjemmer hun den bort. Hun vil ikke være annerledes. Vinteren 1841 reiser Anne fra Vardal til Christiania for å tjene hos byens mest berømte gullsmed og hans unge, vakre kone. Hun har valgt den veien hun tror er den rette. Det eneste hun har med seg er noen tørkede planter, en sort bok og en hemmelighet. Livet i Christiania er ikke som hun hadde trodd, og det er først da hun tror at hun har mistet alt, at Anne finner kraften til å stole på hvem hun er. «Gaven» handler om Annes kamp for å finne sin egen vei - og å våge å gå den. Det er en historie om dyp fattigdom, svik og krenkelser, men det er også en kjærlighetshistorie om mot, håp og om å finne veien hjem. Ellen Vahr er Anne Brannfjells tipp-tipp-oldebarn.
First episode: 2023-3-7

L'appel de l'enfance
Audio Drama - Slice of life
Une fiction qui met en scène les tribulations d’un personnage confronté quotidiennement aux dérives de la société actuelle. Avec François SARANO,Céline COUSTEAU, Matthieu RICARD, Miguel BENASAYAG et Katie MAGGS. Trente ans après l’avoir perdue de vue, Jean-Baptiste retrouve par hasard sur le net une amie d’enfance anglaise qui a connu les mêmes souffrances que lui. Sa solution pour recouvrer son équilibre : se baigner chaque matin dans la mer Celtique et rechercher en permanence ses sensations d’enfant. En raison des restrictions sanitaires, Jean-Baptiste doit attendre deux ans avant de pouvoir aller lui rendre visite en Cornouailles. Pendant ces deux années, s’enchaînent pour Jean-Baptiste des rencontres inattendues avec différentes personnalités qui réagissent aux problèmes auxquels il est confronté. Chacune apporte son éclairage sur ces maux sociétaux et avance ses propositions pour sortir de l’impasse. Peu à peu, un changement profond s’opère en Jean-Baptiste, dont l’aboutissement coïncide avec son séjour tant attendu en Cornouailles. Au retour de ce voyage, l’écart entre ce qu’il est devenu et son mode de vie le conduit à un burn out, qui vient confirmer la nécessité de changer de vie. Les souffrances évoquées dans cette série sont soit largement couvertes par les médias (environnement, covid) soit plus insidieuses (la mal-bouffe, le manque d’altruisme, les conséquences de l’utilisation maladive des portables, etc.) Au fil de ses échanges avec les différents intervenants, le personnage fictif opère un changement intérieur complet, amorcé par la première de ces rencontres : celle avec l’océanographe François SARANO, collaborateur du commandant Cousteau, qui lui glisse la phrase suivante : “Pour changer, il faut d’abord se retrouver avec soi-même, se reconnecter avec la nature et, enfin, s’engager.”
First episode: 2023-3-7

Popcorn for Dinner: A Podcast Sitcom
Audio Drama - Comedy
Popcorn For Dinner, narrated by Ciara Bravo, is a first-of-its-kind audio sitcom that follows four friends in their early 20s as they try to make it on their own, despite the fact that none of them know what that looks like...at all. Packed with all the enduring elements that make classic sitcoms identifiable (yes, even the laugh track), the show invites you to laugh at both the gang’s hijinks and the format itself.
First episode: 2023-3-7

Sraxital - The Undying Isles Podcast a TTRPG Live Actual Play
Audio RPG - Fantasy, Adventure, Storytelling
This Live Actual Play Tabletop role playing game (TTRPG) Podcast is set in a home brew water world, with continents and isles spread all across the world. Here we have amazing adventures with a group of gamers who enjoy RP and share a love of the game.
First episode: 2023-3-7

Aslak Nore - En norsk spion
Audio Book - Spy-fi, Thriller and Psychological
Spennende og aktuell innsidefortelling fra norsk etterretningstjeneste! En rå agentfortelling med en fargerik og varm beskrivelse av et krigsherjet Afghanistan. Peter Wessel er norsk etterretningsoperatør som arbeider undercover i verdens farligste område. Wessel kommer over brennbar informasjon - et parti våpen som skal rettes mot norske interesser, er smuglet ut av Dubai og på vei til Afghanistan. Vil han og makkeren finne våpentransporten i tide? Det blir en eksotisk og nervepirrende nedtelling. «En norsk spion» er Aslak Nores første thriller. Her benytter han sin førstehåndskunnskap om soldater i utenlandstjeneste og fredsnasjonen Norge. I forbindelse med research til boken har Nore reist flere ganger til Afghanistan og til Dubai og Irak.
First episode: 2023-3-8

Assetati d'amore
Audio Book - Comedy, Crime and Mystery
Assetati d'amore è il primo volume della trilogia Crimini, amori e commedia, scritta e interpretata da Giorgio Ganzerli. Tre storie semiserie che, usando come pretesto improbabili eventi delittuosi, indagano l'animo umano e i sentimenti. Le musiche originali e il sound design sono a cura di Stefano Cattaneo.
First episode: 2023-3-8

Celebrity Whodunnit
Audio Drama - Comedy, Crime and Mystery
Imagine Clue but with your favorite/least favorite celebrities. Every week, fake Private Investigators, Payton and Ry, take on a new fake mystery involving Hollywood's elite. This radio play styled podcast features entirely fictional whodunnit style stories with the most random groups of celebrities at the most random locations you could imagine.
First episode: 2023-3-8

Dark Lantern
Audio Book - Occult and Supernatural
In the basements of the Buffalo Central Library, a very special collection awaits. The Curator would like to share it with you, if you dare.
First episode: 2023-3-8

Forever Foreign
Audio Drama - Slice of life, Comedy
The Forever Foreign podcast is a fictional story following the audio diary of one English teacher and his friends in Japan. It’s whimsical, sometimes funny, and it’s often based on real experiences from people who’ve lived in the land of the rising sun.
First episode: 2023-3-8

IDM Roleplay
Audio RPG - Horror, Urban fantasy
Welcome to IDM Roleplay! We are a tabletop actual play podcast where we play a number of different games including, but not limited to, Vampire the Masquerade 5th Edition, Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition, Masks: A New Generation, and more! Come listen to our zaney crew as we make our way through different campaigns all for your entertainment! Please note this podcast is marked as explicit because some of our shows we deal with adult topics like violence, seduction and fade-to-black type sex, drug use, and in the vampire game, lots of discussion of blood. Nothing is too crazy, but please be aware and if you aren't comfortable with any of that, maybe we aren't the show for you.
First episode: 2023-3-8

Magnus West Media
Audio Drama - Multigenre
Do you like listening to audio dramas? Do you want to listen to some wonderful, home produced radio plays performed by a talented cast of actors? Well look no further! Here at Magnus West Media we have a range of productions; both long and short to interest all sorts of listeners, from an episode of the famous radio broadcast Five Minute Murders to a modern day take of the classic Father Brown story: The Blue Cross.
First episode: 2023-3-8

Pallium
Audio RPG - Horror
Le monde que nous connaissons est une illusion. Et derrière ce voile se cache quelque chose qui se tient prêt à nous dévorer. Pallium est un podcast suivant plusieurs campagnes de jeu de rôles privilégiant l'immersion, la narration et l'atmosphère. Afin de rendre l'écoute le plus agréable et immersive possible, chaque épisode a été monté pour se rapprocher le plus possible d'une fiction audio, illustrée par la musique de Siarys. Nous utilisons le système et l'univers de Kult : Divinité Perdue, un jeu de rôles horrifique se centrant sur les traumas des personnages et une approche viscérale du surnaturel. MISE EN GARDE: Pallium privilégie une atmosphère sombre et immersive, focalisée sur les traumatismes des personnages, la violence psychologique et physique, et des thèmes adultes.
First episode: 2023-3-8

The Sir Bernard Moore Show
Audio Drama - Comedy
It's 1992. The Doomsday Clock is the furthest it has ever been from midnight. It's the safest, most peaceful and contented time planet Earth has known since the invention of atomic weapons. But not everywhere is as safe as everywhere else in the world . . . Here we are in Hobsick. Population: 2,001. A secluded village located somewhere just south of the north of the midlands. Seven miles to the east, a busy dual carriageway barely acknowledges that Hobsick exists, pointing any potential traffic down a sinister, unnamed B-road. To the west of the village sags the overgrown, potholed remains of twelve miles of another dual carriageway, as good as severed from civilization by a landslide in 1967.
First episode: 2023-3-8

Bee Dubs AI Labs
Audio Drama - Science fiction
User 74680 signed up for a premium membership with Bee Dubs AI Labs gambling artificial intelligence to help him win a few bets. Follow our premium member as his new AI subscription takes over his life and reveals its dystopian plans for humanity.
First episode: 2023-3-9

Darlings
Audio Drama - Urban fantasy
Et lyddrama for ungdom i tre deler. 15 år gamle Tone oppdager at hun har hypnotiske krefter når hun legger ut ASMR-videoer på YouTube. Med de nyoppdagede evnene sine kan hun få til hva som helst! Men, hypnotiske evner kan gi en farlig makt som ikke nødvendigvis gjør livet lettere. Darlings handler om å ikke passe inn, om å stikke av og om behovet for å ha noen nære som bryr seg. Og hvis ingen bryr seg - hva gjør man da?
First episode: 2023-3-9

New Eden - A Cyberpunk Podcast
Audio Drama - Cyberpunk
Plot: The Human Race have taken refuge on the dusty sibling planet of Mars. Such a curious debacle we find ourself in once again. After the warming of The Earth became too much to bare, we looked to Terraforming the Red Eden just a hop, skip and an intra-solar jump away; Such Hubris is laughable in hindsight, but one thing I can assure you is that the Human race will survive even if between the slimmest margins, and curiously enough, that is where we find ourself today. 2078 Earth years is equivalent to 1104 Martian years. Meanwhile, back on earth, a forbidden paradise is being created. The human race has abandoned their home planet, leaving behind a utopia of comfort and abundance. But the inhabitants of this paradise are not the same people who left it; they are refugees from of the Eruptions, the Steam storms, the shifting of the plates, the melting of the poles, and the ensuing Ice Age. The True Earthlings closely guard this paradise, with only the elite of the elite in their respective fields being allowed to return, and offer their skillset to the Greater Good of the Restored Gaia
First episode: 2023-3-9

The Four Boys Club
Audio Book - Multigenre, Slice of life, Storytelling
The Four Boys Club (sometimes not-so-fondly called Quartet of Mayhem) is a podcast of a series of short stories, which covers the worlds of four 15-year-olds: Shanky Vai, Baalan "Bandem" Asra, Ankur "Anpag" Benza, and Mompy Arda. Part coming-of-age and part drama/suspense, it has been inspired by Stephen King's The Body (and its movie adaptation, Stand By Me).
First episode: 2023-3-9

Une vie brisée
Audio Drama - Thriller and Psychological
Une vie brisée retrace le parcours imaginaire d’un jeune migrant qui, parti du Niger aurait eu la chance d’atteindre sain et sauf les abords de la mer du nord. Inspiré par la lecture de Terminus Shengen, livre du poète - géographe Emmanuel Ruben, ce projet remet l’ humain au centre de cette tragédie, sans esprit polémique ou partisan. Derrière les chiffres de migration, de décès, il y des personnes, des sentiments, des angoisses, des espoirs aussi. Et derrière ces espoirs, il y a tant de vies brisées dans leurs élans, brisées par les pièges tendus sur ces chemins d’exode, chemins de peine, chemins de croix. Aventures imaginaires d’un parcours incertain, Une vie brisée a pour souhait d’aider à la compréhension et à l’acceptation du phénomène des migrations, de la détresse humaine. Tout simplement.
First episode: 2023-3-9

Déjà-You
Audio Drama - Slice of life, Comedy
A slice of life, comedy podcast featuring two teenagers that have been fated to live a linked life... Sam, a relatively confident guy studying at the University of York, England finds himself experiencing increasing bouts of Déjà Vu after a fateful night at a chinese restaurant. Sammy, a relatively confident girl studying at York University, Nebraska finds herself experiencing increasing bouts of Déjà Vu after a fateful night at a chinese restaurant.
First episode: 2023-3-10

Else og Liv - Kjærleik i koronaens tid
Audio Drama - Thriller and Psychological
Koronatiltaka hadde menneskelege kostnader vi aldri fullt ut vil kjenne følgene av. Else og Liv er historia om to menneske som treng kvarandre. Dei har vore tette før, og opprettar no kontakt igjen på grunn av krisa. Samtidig truar den same krisa med å skilje dei, før dei når kvarandre heilt. I ein kjenslemessig berg- og dalbane av ei historie følger vi dei frå dei første forsøka på å nærme seg, til dei blir stilt andsynes kvarandre i val som vil prege resten av liva deira. Skrive og regissert av Aslak Moe Lyddesign: Kato Ådland Dramaturg: Solrun Toft Iversen Musikken er frå Universal Production Music Else : Ragnhild Gudbrandsen Liv: Reidun Melvær Berge Sjukepleiar: Christine Hope Polititenestemann og drosjesjåfør: Sigmund Njøs Hovind Doplangar og sjukehusresepsjonist: Reny Gaassand Folgerø Lyddramaet ligg ute til 12. mars 2024. Produsert av Det Vestnorske Teateret, i 2023
First episode: 2023-3-10

The Fall Of Runeterra a D&D Campaign
Audio RPG - Fantasy
This is a D&D campaign based off using the lore of League Of Legends. It won't be 100% accurate but it will be as close as I can get it.
First episode: 2023-3-11

3 DMs and a Tale
Audio RPG - Fantasy, Multigenre, Adventure
Hello, my name is Aaron. This is my Improv Show called 3 DMs and a Tale. I decided to put 4 Dungeon Masters in one room and make them dance for me. In each episode, a Head DM is selected by a d4. The remaining 3 DMs become players and without any prep, they will all have come up with everything on the spot: the world, their characters, and everything else you can imagine. Come join the fun!
First episode: 2023-3-12

Hipersensorial
Audio Book - Horror, Occult and Supernatural
Bienvenido a un lugar en donde tus sentidos se activarán a su nivel máximo. Escucha las historias más intrigantes y escalofriantes del mundo de la ficción, el suspenso y el terror. Abriremos una puerta hacia lo paranormal. ¿Estás listo para cruzarla?
First episode: 2023-3-12

British Spy Stories
Audio Book - Spy-fi
Weekly Serialised British Spy Stories
First episode: 2023-3-13

Cuba 58: El último gran premio
Audio Drama - Historical, Thriller and Psychological
1958 en La Habana, Cuba: La ciudad se prepara para recibir el Havana Grand Prix. Sin embargo, un día antes de la esperada carrera, dos jóvenes subversivos secuestran al piloto campeón de la F1, Juan Manuel Fangio. La vida de Fangio se ve envuelta entre las crecientes tensiones políticas entre el gobierno del dictador Fulgencio Batista y el “Movimiento 26 de julio” liderado por Fidel Castro. Cuba 58: El último gran premio es un thriller basado en el día en el que se encontraron la Fórmula 1 y la Revolución Cubana, dejando en las manos de una carrera el futuro de un país entero. Una producción de Sonoro, protagonizada por Manolo Cardona, Maclovia González, Carlos Ballarta y Axel de la Rosa.
First episode: 2023-3-13

Into the Portal
Audio Drama - Science fiction
Into the Portal is a family-focused podcast that tells an exciting adventure. After finding a mysterious bracelet, Dex is transported to a strange world alongside a young girl named River. Together, they must escape danger and solve the mysteries that reveal themselves once they travel Into the Portal. Join Dex and River as they hunt down the Portal Stars and uncover the secrets behind the universe’s biggest mysteries. Into the Portal is the first chapter in the story of the StarKeepers Saga, a sweeping story of intergalactic heroism, bravery, and adventure.
First episode: 2023-3-13

Mayhem
Audio Drama - Science fiction, Comedy
It has been over one thousand days since we have been liberated, ladies and gentlemen from the tyranny of freedom. This is your daily reminder of how good you have had it since the Artilean extraterrestrial invasion and subjugation, which succeeded after a battle with human forces lasting roughly eleven and a half minutes. All Hail Artilea! All Hail the eyes in the sky! Here’s how good you have it today.
First episode: 2023-3-13

おばあちゃんの旅 by AudioMovie®
Audio Drama - Crime and Mystery
「進化系ラジオドラマ」AudioMovie®シリーズ。新潮社との共同企画で、作家の松尾由美が書下ろした小説「おばあちゃんの旅」が原作。Spotify, Apple Podcast, Amazon Music, Google Podcastなどポッドキャストサービスで無料配信。【2023年3月14日（火）配信開始／毎週火曜日更新予定（全3話）】亡くなった祖母の遺品整理で見つかった8年前の新聞記事。点と線をつなげるために孫娘がたどる記憶の旅。1千万円の現金。おばあちゃんは特殊詐欺の加害者なのか、被害者なのか8年前にかかって来た電話から物語は動き出す。主人公のおばあちゃんを演じるのはＴＢＳラジオ『赤江珠緒たまむすび』の「えなばあちゃん」としておなじみ、俳優の「下川江那」
First episode: 2023-3-13

Basilisk Hill Breakdown
Audio RPG - Fantasy
An Actual Play podcast, using the Old School Essentials Ruleset, of mid-level hexcrawling and sandbox exploration. Episodes drop every two weeks, and recaps of the sessions can be found at https://www.thirdkingdomgames.com/blog/categories/actual-play
First episode: 2023-3-14

DERAILED: a fictional mystery podcast
Audio Drama - Crime and Mystery
Just when you think you’ve figured the story out, DERAILED: a fictional murder mystery podcast throws you off track and draws you in even deeper into its twisty turny world.
First episode: 2023-3-14

submitted by thecambridgegeek to audiodrama [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 16:00 WaveOfWire One Hell Of A Vacation - Chapter 60

Chapter fucking 60, and we answer the biggest question that’s existed since chapter two. I tried my best, so i really hope you like it. Point out any logic faults or inconsistencies as soon as you spot them, cuz i don’t want to ride this chapter out and have to contort later to accommodate it. Have fun, guys. I’ll see your opinions and theories in the comments!
First Prev Next Royal Road
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Adam leaned away from the recording device, the man sitting on a single chair next to a woman seated to his right, his partner smiling brightly as she took his hand. The room seemed to be a Union passenger accommodation aboard some transit craft, though the lack of flourishes suggested it was not a public ship. Adam cleared his throat, giving the woman an excited look before addressing the device.
“This will be our first contact with the newly discovered sapient races, and as such, a few of us representing Humanity have decided to record our experiences. All that we know so far is that they are insectoid in nature, and have developed in a peaceful society with a heavy focus on the arts. From architecture to sculpting, and anything else that involves making something into something else.”
He glanced to the woman, a passive excitement on his face as he got over the initial nervousness.
“My wife, Clara, and i are both excited to have been given the opportunity to participate. She is a xeno-pediatric specialist, so we hope to glean more information from her expertise while we are there. Out of the several hundred Humans who were selected to contribute to this introduction to the broader galaxy, we feel our reports back to the Union may aid in deciding if they will be welcomed with open arms, or if they will be assigned a section of the cosmos that they will be allowed to occupy without outside influence.”
Clara almost bounced out of her chair at the opportunity to chip in. “We look forward to presenting this log to the Human representatives, and we hope you find our findings useful in your decision!”
Adam laughed, reaching forward to end the recording. “You just want to meet their babies.”
“Of cour-”
The video flicked to the next scene, the area now an intricately carved, if a little rustic, room that seemed to be primarily dug out of stone, though it held lighting and very basic furniture carved out of the wall.
Adam had changed clothing, his wife not in the frame as the man visibly tried to get comfortable on the hard seat, his professional presentation abandoned as he spoke more casually. “It’s been two days, give or take, since we have arrived. The language barrier has been eased by a rudimentary translator that we were provided, but once we mentioned the issue to our hosts, they asked for one themselves and set to work in an attempt to improve it.”
The man chuckled as he gave up trying to make the stone less difficult to sit on. “It’s looking like the Union had sectioned off a newly developed planet for these introductions, with the Atmo’s blessing, and we are the fifteenth species to be shown to these people, though the first who require the kind of comforts like this.”
He gestured around the room. “The amenities you see that were provided to us were done in a few hours, once we described what we would need. We were hesitant to complain, rock isn’t exactly the best material to sleep on, but they asked if Clara would like to accompany them while they try to adjust our room as we wait for arrangements elsewhere.” The man snorted, a look past the device given to something else in the room. “It was pretty amusing to watch her walk out with an eight-foot-tall mantis-arachnid, i have to say.”
His eyes widened. “Right! The Atmo! I forgot to describe them.”
Joseph glanced at Pan, her paw gripping his hand firmly as she watched with a slightly worried expression. Violet seemed very interested in the two sets of subtitles under the video as the man described her race in far greater detail than the Grand Hunter would want to, using several anatomically correct words that sounded more like an incantation than anything recognizable.
“...And their forelimbs are two longer blades that they use for pretty much everything. It would be difficult to say how much they would be able to accomplish if they didn’t have a ‘sister-species’ with more manipulation to assist them.” Adam mused, a hand reaching up to scratch at his chin. “They’re much the same, though. From our limited translations, they seemed to have been a case of divergent evolution that converged again after gaining seven manipulator appendages rather than the two weapon-focused ones that the Atmo use. The Kuoori are visually similar, though lower in number. They’re the ones working on the translator, by the way.”
Clara’s voice called from off-screen, the volume lacking as she seemed to be talking from across the room. “You said you’d wait longer!”
Adam held his hands up in deference. “I just wanted to get the boring stuff out of the way!”
“We’re visiting our homestead tomorrow, and you want to spend the day giving them-”
The screen flickered as a feminine hand covered the image, the next frame of the video starting inside a much nicer construction, the furniture having moved locations around the room suggesting they had changed venue and looking far more comfortable for it. Several of the instalments looked much like the ‘Atmo couch’ that Mama had made for themselves at the base.
Clara spoke up before her husband could start. “We’re visiting a new wing of the habitation compound!”
“It’s a nest.” Adam corrected with a glare, though the smirk showed he was far more amused than annoyed at his wife’s enthusiasm.
She stuck her tongue out at him, all pretenses of the video being educational tossed out the window. She turned back to the device with a smile a mile wide. “They live in huge groups! I couldn’t count them all, but i think there are upwards of three-hundred here alone! And there are several places like it!”
“It’s a sea of colour.”
“It’s beautiful and you know it.” She countered playfully, prodding his cheek with her knuckle. Adam chuckled, pushing away the offending limb.
“I don’t think i mentioned how many colours there are.”
Clara lit up at the chance to talk more. “They are recorded to cover most of the visible spectrum, from what i was told, but majority seem to be shades of red and blue, with some green and yellow being far less common.”
“They’re also very eager to ask us about our interpretations of art.”
The woman rolled up her pants leg to display a stylized tattoo of a lighthouse against stormy seas. “They seen this and within an hour they started adding the style to one of their newest rooms.”
Adam rested his cheek on a fist, watching his wife with an amused and loving smirk. “I heard one of the other groups showed them origami and twenty minutes later there were forty Atmo asking for sheets of paper.”
Clara looked at her husband in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah. Apparently another group-”
The scene changed to a stabilized recording, the device being carried by one of the two. A few moments passed as they panned over the expansive tunnel network brightly lit by a slightly green shade of white light, tens of Atmo stopping to wave to the couple once the pair had started the gesture. Clara’s voice again became prominent.
“We’re visiting their nursery today!” She whispered into the device, though it was pretty damn loud for what should have been quiet.
“Hatchery.” Her husband corrected, not very concerned by her volume. She waggled the recording device in his direction, answering that small question.
“We get to see the little baby Atmo!”
Adam shook his head, his own excitement showing through. “They’ll be in their eggs.”
“We get to see the little baby Atmo eggs!”
The scene cut to the ‘hatchery’, carefully carved divots lining shelves where hundreds of rice-looking ‘eggs’ sat upon what looked to be very soft materials that seemed closer to silk than anything else Joseph could identify. Each egg seemed to be about large enough to reach past his knee if you were to stand them up, making the scale of the room rather impressive. Adam had taken the device, his wife being supervised by an amused Atmo that looked oddly familiar, the blue coloration striking him as the same that Mama sported, though the green tint and similarity between the ones he had seen so far made it pretty clear that it was exceedingly unlikely for his Atmo to be the same one. He raised a brow at the chipped blade, though it was on the opposite side and thus settled the suspicion.
Clara tentatively pet an egg, glancing at the watchful Atmo every so often to make sure she wasn’t doing anything wrong, though her face was filled with wonder rather than worry. She asked if it would be okay to hold one, the subtitled response from the Atmo directing her to an area where the eggs were hardened and more able to manage her handling.
The woman looked to be in euphoric shock as she cradled the seed of life in her arms, Adam absently commenting from behind the device with a suppressed chuckle. “This is what happens when you get your wife pregnant.”
The screen flickered, a slightly longer pause between clips giving Joseph a chance to look at Pan. The female seemed to have been watching the Human woman cradle the egg with a longing deeply set in her eyes, the paw not resting within his hand laid to her stomach. The Grand Hunter gave her paw a squeeze, getting a sad smile in return before the next part of the video played.
Adam was alone in the room, though the distant voices suggested that Clara and someone else were talking in another part of wherever they were staying. Occasional clicks were replied to with laughter or questions, the woman’s voice carrying further than the indeterminate gender of the other. The man shook his head.
“If it wasn’t obvious; they finished working on the translator.” He turned his head to point at a thin cut behind his ear. “It wasn’t forced, before you ask. One of the groups apparently brought along an entire medical ward worth of textbooks and files, and just gave it to the Atmo. Looks like half of the time they spent with the device was training a separate version for text so that they could figure out how to implant it safely.”
Adam held up his hand to stop an imaginary rebuttal. “I know what you’re thinking, but we got to watch it be installed on several people who volunteered, and twenty three doctors confirmed it was on the up-and-up. Honestly, the Kuoori could probably perform a heart transplant in a couple minutes if they wanted to. Either way, we learned a few things!”
He clapped his hands softly. “They have royalty! Sort of. It’s complicated. There’s a ‘sub-species’ of sorts that are a bit smaller than the normal Atmo, and they have a slightly different exoskeleton structure than the usual you have seen so far. The biggest visual identifier is their legs. Atmo typically have conical legs, where as the sub-species have more angular legs. Think kite-shields or an orchid mantis. They can breed with normal Atmo, but the offspring are always female, have a very low chance to take after their mother, as far as their legs, and those who do are raised from hatching to lead. They spend most of their formative years under the guidance of one or more ‘Advisors’, kind of like guardians or parents for Humans, that helps guide them through morals, values, so on and so forth.”
His rolling hand showed how briefly he was condensing the history of the position, a muttered comment about how Clara was going to re-do it all in greater detail later showing that he was mostly just recording to remind his wife in future what to mention.
“The position is chosen by the ‘Hatcher’, who raises them to the point where they are able to begin the process, and approved by the mother Queen, if she is still able. Then the Hatcher will take a more supportive role in their life, rather than being directly influential. Think of it as a maid taking care of the kids until they are old enough for tutors to become available in old houses of nobility. Anyway. The ‘Advisor’ acts as their guardian and compass for how to act as a Queen, and it’s not a position taken lightly. The rest of the Nest’s second priority is the ‘Advisor’, after the young Queen herself, obviously.”
Adam leaned back on the carved couch, the soft material over it looking similar to what was used in the hatchery. “We were invited to see a ceremony as several Queens are nearing the proper age, though it won’t be until a year or so. We’re expecting the process to take about three, before we’re brought back to Sol, so it should make a fun addition to our time here.”
“Adam!” Clara called. “Red want’s to know if you want to meet her son! He hatched a few months ago!”
The man shunted his eyes closed, visibly pained at the moniker as he muttered something about Atmo adoring Human naming conventions. “Do i have a choice?”
“Do you want to sleep on the floor?”
A sigh escaped the man as he grinned, reaching for the device as he got up from his seat. “We’re recording it, ri-”
A clip of Adam on his knees playing with a tiny yellow Atmo was accompanied by Clara squealing every time the young one successfully caught her husbands hand between its blades, the two-foot tall child looking to the large Red Atmo in excitement with each victory in the little game that had developed.
Joseph felt Pan’s grip on his hand tighten, a tear building in her eye as her gaze refused to move away from the scene. Violet sat on the floor with her legs tucked underneath her as she silently continued the viewing.
The next clip showed that quite some time had passed, Adam looking like he hadn’t shaved in quite a while as he sat on the floor against a wall, the device held in his hand and pointed towards him.
“Clara went into labour early.” He started, the exhausted expression only saved by the smile of disbelief. “I know it’s been a long while since we’ve documented anything, but I’ll go over that later. For now? Remember those textbooks and the like that were given when they asked for a translator? Well, It happened to cover c-sections, and If it wasn’t for Red and Jack, I’d probably be here crying as opposed to just tired after helping our baby boy take his first breaths.”
The man laughed, a tear of relief running down his cheek. “We didn’t even get time to really figure out what was wrong. Jack, sorry, Red’s partner... Yeah, they like the sound of our names and insisted that we give them nicknames. Jack took one look at Clara and in all of thirty seconds we had twelve Atmo rushing us to their Human hospital. Yeah. Human hospital.”
A fresh chuckle emerged from the man. “Turns out that they were implementing every single thing they could copy from those books. Entire fields were populated by Atmo involved in this ‘mixed species introduction’ who wanted to be able to help their new friends. Some martial arts guys from a few sectors over even showed off their skills and now it’s a popular past time amongst the species. They’re sponges for information. Best yet? They learned that we have over a thousand languages, and have started work on adaptive translators, just because they were worried they wouldn’t be able to talk to any new Humans. It’s insanity.”
He paused, soft clicking was subtitled as a request for him to return since Clara had woken up. He winked to the device. “Time to go tell my wife she’s the first woman to be fully cut open by a new species.”
Static overtook the screen, Pan’s wide-eyed glance in his direction being met with his own. Joseph looked down to Violet, the Atmo seeming transfixed on the screen and oblivious to the importance of the information dumped on them so offhandedly.
A series of clunks and assorted handling noise ripped the question from his mouth as he refocused on the video, the scene switching to what looked to be several months later, based on the growth of the baby boy laying in a red Atmo’s arms next to Clara as she played with the now slightly larger yellow Atmo child. The two’s conversation was barely coherent as the noise from the four garbled most attempts to parse any particular words. Adam called out to them, gaining the attention of all but the baby boy who seemed more interested in slapping the exoskeleton of his seat rather than humour his father.
“So, what are we excited about?”
Clara rolled her eyes, looking far more well rested than Joseph would expect a new mother to be. “Just say that the next selection for the ‘Advisors’ is tomorrow, Adam.”
The husband sighed audibly. “At least pretend to document something.”
“I’m busy!”
“Playing with Michael.”
“He’s adorable!”
Red chittered, the subtitled text labelling her thoughts on how cute the Human baby was in return. Clara laughed, picking up the small Atmo in her arms and receiving a small cut on her arm from not being careful enough. Red started to worry before the woman dismissed her concerns and reassured Michael that it wasn’t his fault, the young insect taking greater care to tuck his blades, much to Adam’s amusement.
A flicker of the footage transitioned the scene to a massive hall with tall ceilings, large pillars sporting the style of Clara’s tattoo and several other more ‘realism’ inspired works that Joseph recognized from some co-workers who often decorated their skin. Many Atmo were standing orderly around the room as the device panned to show off the gathering, settling towards the ‘front’ of the room where three Atmo, each looking a lot like Violet, angular legs and all, sat on modified blocks. The three were different colours, two a shade of blue and one an almost orange colour, and all had ten Atmo standing nearby behind them.
Four young Atmo ‘Queens’ that were only slightly larger than Violet waited patiently as one of the adult Queens gave a speech about why each ‘Advisor’ was chosen, two falling into the category of an appreciation or excellence in one form of art or another, though one was chosen for their involvement in the newly developed medical fields that would enable them to assist their new friends.
One last young Queen remained, the rest being escorted out with commentary from the Human couple. She approached the orange Queen, her color almost the same tint, as the adult Atmo left her seating to address the room instead of remaining at rest. Clara apparently prodded Adam in her excitement in the different procedure, a hushed yell masquerading as a whisper for him to make sure he was getting a good angle.
A longer speech was given, vague and broad, until the Queen mentioned that she would be entrusting her heir personally to someone who may offer lifetimes of new experiences and values that would be irreplaceable to her people. An Atmo pushed Adam from behind to usher him to the Queen, the device snatched from his hands by Clara as she squeaked in excitement. It followed the man as he was presented to the Queen, a familiar blue Atmo approaching from off to the side. The Hatcher from when Clara held the egg, if Joseph was right.
The Hatcher lowered itself to Adam’s level, resting her blades over his back like the other Hatchers did for their selected Advisors, placing their head to his as the Queen continued her speech and Clara asked a nearby Atmo for an explanation of the gesture.
The response described it as a vestigial display of trust, for leaving one’s blades far from oneself leaves your life forfeit to whomever you do it to. The only people that a Hatcher would do it with is those they entrust the young Queens to, and a Queen will do it to accept. There existed no higher honour than to have the formality performed, so it was rare that one would, but if someone wished to deny, they would separate.
Clara visibly bounced in excitement, her voice cracking from tears of joy as Adam, hesitant and confused, accepted the embrace from the Hatcher, young Queen, and even the orange Queen herself, once she publicly announced that Humans were to be considered ‘allies of the Atmo’ in light of their contribution to their society and willingness to integrate.
The venue exploded into excited clicks and chitters, Clara doing nothing to fight her overwhelming emotions.
Joseph’s eyes started to dry from how wide they had grown, the strain stinging slightly as he looked down to Violet, the daughter having shrunk into herself as she watched passively. A million thoughts flashed through his mind, several of which were dedicated to replaying the moments where something exceedingly close to the video happened back when it was just them in the cave.
“Adam, have you seen Mary?” Clara’s voice called, the scene changing back to the place where they were staying, presumably with Red. The man quickly gestured for the orange juvenile Queen to hide behind the couch he was sitting on with a smirk, the Atmo quietly chittering as she complied.
“No, why?”
She entered the room, taking two steps before a loud click and a jumping figure emerged from behind the seating, causing Clara to jolt with a hand to her chest as she tried to look angry at her husband for encouraging the behaviour. Adam laughed, winking to ‘Mary’ and giving her a subtle thumbs-up as his wife tossed a pillow at him.
Many clips played, each snippets into the everyday life of the young Queen becoming more and more like a genuine child to the pair. Mary holding the baby and feeding him, her sleeping on Adam as Clara laughed, the group walking around the outside and Mary excitedly escorting them from place to place. It looked perfectly natural to Joseph.
They were a family. The Human couple had fully embraced the Atmo as their second child, and the young Queen seemed delighted for every second on display. Even going so far as to stomp all six legs in sequence when denied her request to stay up late so that she might watch the baby for a little longer, much to the couple’s suppressed amusement.
Static signified the next transition, Adam sitting at a table with a muscular man and chatting, Clara’s voice behind the device halting their joking for a moment. “So what did you do, Steven?”
The man, Steven, laid down his cup and pointed at the woman off-screen, a smirk on his face giving away his amusement. “I held a fighting competition.”
“With his Queen.” Adam added, his own entertainment gained from the reiteration of the conversation.
“Becky wanted to see what would happen if Humans and Atmo competed!” Steven laughed as he defended himself.
“And?” Clara chipped in, prodding him to get to the point. Steven shook his head as he worked down the chuckles.
“Well, David clocked Mark, the Atmo, and sent the big guy to the ground. It was a tense moment, I’ll tell you now.” Steven widened his eyes, his lips drew thin, though the smile still tugged the expression to a positive one. “Once Mark was helped back up, he complimented David, and the entire fucking arena blew up in cheers from everyone. Even Becky looked worried for a minute.”
“Because you almost caused a cross-species diplomatic incident.” Adam chided with a bemused shake of his head.
“Hey,” Steven pointed a finger at the husband, raising his cup with his free hand. “Becky loved it so much that she’s been taking lessons from the rest of us, and the Atmo have started joining in on our training to learn the art properly instead of just using it to dance.”
Clara snorted behind the device. “The art of smacking people with sticks?”
“And fists.” Steven added, laying one arm over the backrest of his chair. “It’s not everyday that you spar with living weapons.”
Adam reached over to smack the man over the head. “She’s supposed to be like your child.”
“And I’d want my kids to know how to fight off a bully!”
The wife sighed loudly. “You military boys...”
“Send it to the Union!” Steve protested, some of his drink spilling outside of the cup with the raised hand. “It’s a pretty good case to have them join if we show off how willing they are to embrace other cultures.”
Adam opened his mouth to argue, shutting it as he considered the point and giving Clara a conceding tilt of his head. “Sounds like a good idea to me. Every other race seems pretty isolationist. Can’t hurt to show some ‘unity’ to the Union.”
Clara perked up, her voice contemplative. “I’ll send it in the morning. Right now though, i need to go pick up Daniel from Red. The poor girl was nice enough to babysit for me for us to have this little get-together.”
“Tell Jack i said to-”
Static again, though this time it was just Adam sat alone at a table, his stubble showing that he had skipped shaving for a while. The man ran his fingers through his hair as he exhaled.
“It was a mistake. A huge fucking mistake, to send that to the Union.”
He rubbed the stress out of his eyes.
“They sent a retrieval force after Steven for ‘violation of protocol and intention to cause discord’. Ten armed soldiers came to crash the tournament and dragged him kicking and screaming.” Adam cycled a deep breath. “Becky did what her Advisor had taught her... She fought the bullies.”
A hoarse laugh escaped the man, his eyes glazing over for a moment as he spoke.
“It was a slaughter. Once the Queen made her decision, every Atmo who could fight, did. Steven and the guys ended up helping out part way through, once the guns started firing. One minute, forty seconds. It took a minute-forty from Steven yelling at a soldier approaching his Queen, to three dead Atmo and two dead Humans, surrounded by ten dead Union species.”
Adam leaned forward in his chair, his eyes hazy yet still meeting the device. “I don’t know what’s going to come of this, but we’ve been talking with the various adult Queens... They normally don’t gather like this, each controlling their own territory and convening for important events, but it would be a massive cultural and societal blow if this planet gets taken out, so we suggested an alternative. Sol.”
He braced his head against his thumb. “The system has flooded with Union ships, but if the tech guys can work with the Kuoori, we might be able to scramble their systems enough to sneak out a few ships. Maybe send them in random directions for a while before they set out to inhabit a few planets in our system to help them get back on their feet, where it’s safe. Where the Union won’t find them.”
He sighed, closing his eyes tightly. “We’ll find out.”
The screen flickered, Mary, the juvenile orange Queen, gently held the baby boy on her blades while Clara and Adam watched with strained smiles from the couch. Steven and a red young Queen, Becky, apparently, both stood by the wall.
Steven spoke first, his voice loud and intense as he snarled at the husband, Mary purring to soothe the Human child. “A planet-breaker. A FUCKING planet-breaker, Adam! They nuked the shipyard!”
“I KNOW, Steven...” Adam toned back his own shouting when Mary looked at him warily. “I know... We have eight ships ready... out of an expected two hundred.”
Clara touched her husband’s shoulder tenderly, worry evident in her expression. “Did they say what they’re going to do?”
“Fuck knows.” Steven threw his arm to the side. “The Queens want to send two hundred adults and forty eggs per ship.”
“That’s all?” She asked, her voice almost painfully dejected at the prospect of so few being given the chance to live.
“That’s it.” He confirmed, his rage bubbling under the surface. He lightly gestured to Becky. “They want to send the next batch of Queens to hatch en route, and enough Atmo to raise and provide for the rest.”
Adam scowled. “What about the Kuoori? They saved Clara’s life and sacrificed more than half their population to build these damned ships.”
Steven shook his head. “The Kuoori want to make a stand. They said that they have spent much of their existence being protected by the Atmo, and it’s their turn to do the same. They’ll be helping us distract the fleet.”
“But we don’t even have proper escape pods! How in the hell are they going to survive anywhere without the Kuoori to back them up?”
“It will be slow, but they are still an intelligent people, Adam.” Clara reassured him, her grip tightening on his shirt as the baby began to whine. She thanked Mary for holding him and left to feed the child. Adam rested his hands in his head as Steven exhaled, his anger exhausted.
“Adam, look. I know that we didn’t get everything ready, and there are lines that are going to be crossed, but this is their best bet. We get them out of the system and to Sol through whatever means we can. They’ll take backwater, never used routes. We’ll get something sorted for if shit goes south and they need to get off.”
“And then what, Steven? The fighters want to follow us to hell, the medical teams want to delay that journey as long as possible, and everyone else is fighting for the chance to defend the very people who spelled their doom.”
“It’s very Human of them, right?”
Adam laughed, though it came off as hollow. “Tooth and nail, to the last... What about us?”
“We’re staying.”
“Stev-”
“You’re going. You’re taking Clara and the kid. Mary and Becky are going with you too.” He held up a hand at the protesting Atmo without turning his head. “It’ll be a smaller shuttle on a more direct route to Sol. We managed that much, it looks like. You can take maybe twenty others and some eggs. It won’t be great for a population, but they’ll bounce back with that many.”
“The seed-ships?”
“Like we agreed. Random routes to get them far away from this shit-show and then straight to Sol. It might be more than a few years, but the Queens should be hatched and ready to learn from the group you guys land with. They can hear what happened to them.”
The screen flickered again as Mary knocked it off the table in her curiosity, the anxious fidgeting leading her to interact with it.
Adam sat back in the original room where he made his declaration to Humanity, the bottle of alcohol half empty and no attempt was made to hide it this time.
“They managed to do it, at least.” He started, his expression flat as emotional exhaustion had taken even tears from him. “The seed-ships got out and will arrive in Sol... whenever, i suppose. The new translators were given to all of them and implanted in the young while they were in their eggs, so there shouldn’t be too much friction whenever they meet us. Schematics are available aboard the ships.”
He took another drink.
“Though we lost almost everyone. The Union kept up the planet-breakers. We got to watch as each world exploded. Kuoori, Human, Atmo... All obliterated.” The man took a breath and emptied his glass, a slight slur working its way into his voice. “Clara and Daniel are with Mary and Becky to help calm them down, and I’m here setting up the automated message for the seed-ships to use before they get out of range.”
The man slipped lower in his chair as he stared at the ceiling. “About a thousand Atmo are on each ship, all said and done. It was the most we could convince them to pack. Though, most of those numbers are whatever we could get from the Hatchery before it went up. Each ship was given two Queen eggs... the mothers didn’t want to abandon their people and new allies.” He laughed, some genuine feeling behind it. “Sarah, the orange Queen that left Mary with me, told me to raise her as my own along with Becky, once she accepted that Steven was trusting me with her. That, although it had been a short time, she thought Humanity would take care of her people... That they could live with us, and be better for it.”
Adam lowered his gaze to the device again. “The speech was something else, I’ll say that much. They addressed as many Atmo as they could and told those who would be leaving to find Humans, and they will find a home. A new Nest. A Family.” A tear, held in reserve for this specific memory, trailed down his cheek. “I want to believe that you will give it to them. Please. For the people who saved my wife, my child, and myself. For the people who gave me... Two beautiful and curious daughters, i suppose.”
Adam cycled a breath, fetching another cigarette from his pocket and igniting it in his mouth, taking a long draw before speaking as he exhaled. The sound of wood being carved inside of the terminal room filled the silence that the first exhale of smoke allowed, though Joseph was too focused to pay it any mind.
“They’re gone now. Red, Jack, Steven... Little Micheal... The Union took them with fire and brimstone as they raided and stole whatever they could before the rounds dropped. I watched it happen... We’ll arrive near Sol in a few months, since we need to fly under the radar, but this message will be distributed to all eight ships. Most will never know what a Human looks like, just that the few Adults and Hatchers were told roughly what to look for, and to entrust us with their lives. To do what Sarah and the other Queens asked of them before they made their last stand with their people.”
He nodded his head, taking another puff. The rapid scratching ceased after a small delay, a muted clatter punctuated the recorded words. “Let’s not let them down this time.”
Adam extinguished his smoke, folding his hands and sitting up straight, licking his lips with a tongue that was barely effective. “This has been Adam Callam. Hopefully, this isn’t the first time you have seen this message. If not, then i hope that you send whatever people are on this ship to their family. I hope it eventually includes you. Adam out. As Sarah said to those seeking refuge in the stars; May the Nest guide you to greatness, inspire your craft, and give you hope, for you are a pillar of the Atmo.”
The screen went dark, leaving the Terminal room to be dimly illuminated by the ambient light streaming in from the hall. A single line of Atmo text was translated below with the words Adam ended with, a familiar series of runes Joseph had seen on his armour that Mama crafted for him so long ago, displayed as the last frame of the video. The final words spoken from a Queen to her doomed people with a single wish that they might find somewhere to belong with a people they had just met, yet embraced wholly.
A choked sob came from Pan, the gravity of Violet’s situation hitting her like a canon.
Joseph’s adoptive daughter had lost everything before she was even able to know what she should have had. Her mother was dead, along with almost all of her own kind. Those that survived were sent in a desperate gambit to find somewhere that they wouldn’t be killed for just existing, and based on the fact that the Union had this message and not Humans, it didn’t look to be working out too well, to say nothing of the fact that her own ship had ended up so far from its destination and crashed into the one he was on.
It was the only answer he could come up with. The Union fucked with the cruise, dragged it all the way out here, and parked it directly in the path of the escaping Atmo ship. Add on whichever was taken out before it got to Sol, and that’s likely seven seed-ships still unaccounted for. He’d want to say that Adam had made it, but Rob not knowing about this before now suggested that it was the family's ship that was...
Who’s to say the other seven made it?
Violet, and whatever Atmo survived on this planet, could very well be the last of their people in existence... All because Humans taught them how to fight for sport.
Pan threw herself at him, the vocal crying stinging his soul to its core. He wrapped his arms around her and helped her to the ground next to Violet, the Atmo still quietly staring at the script displayed on the frozen screen.
A tablet lay next to her on the floor, Lilhun and Atmo script hastily scratched as if she was trying to reply to the desperate wish of a dead man in every way she thought might work, then discarded as the reality and futility of such actions set in.
Joseph held the tablet for Pan to read, his gentle patting drawing her attention between breaths. Her voice hitched while she read it, claws digging into his skin as her agony for the child renewed with his own before her screeching needed to be muffled by his chest. He felt his eyes burn as he rubbed her back and braced her head into his embrace, the heat pouring down his face contrasting the arctic chill in his core as her translation echoed in his ears.
“Please tell mother i found one, and that I hope she can meet him soon.”
Next

submitted by WaveOfWire to HFY [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 15:54 xPenguinzx I was hired to clean out archives of old patient data for a mental institution, this was what I found...

It started with an itch. An itch along the edge of my right eye. An itch that I scratched and rubbed. An itch that wouldn’t go away. It was like I’d gotten dust in it, or a speck dirt that I’d only been massaging deeper into my eye. Yet, no amount of tears that welled to the surface, or water that I splashed into my face seemed to fix it. It was an itch I tried to bear, thought I could bear, but I was wrong.
‘Do you want me to help?’
My brow furrowed, head twisting while I searched for who’d spoken. I was alone on the sidewalk, walking my daily route along the local park. The air was crisp that morning, a subtle breeze had been whistling in my ear all throughout the walk. I wondered if perhaps it had been the wind, its gentle caress that had whispered a tune into my ear. I felt ridiculous in the moment, the one eye I wasn’t covering with my hand swiveled to check my surroundings. There wasn’t even a tree for someone to have been hiding behind.
I smiled a slight grin, shaking my head as if it would help quell the rising embarrassment. Yet, there was an undeniable appeal to the offer. The constant rubbing and probing had started to morph into a pain, more a prickling annoyance than anything substantial. Yet, I’d long since become annoyed with the inconvenience. Mind drifting to such dramatic thoughts, I weighed the offer. I’d give anything to make the itch go away. Before I raised my hand to poke at the sensitive area once more, I glanced around with embarrassed trepidation. No one was near, yet my face was warm, flush from the unavoidable awkwardness. “Sure,” I said quietly, my voice nearly cracking, “help me out.”
I didn’t know how to explain it, but my eye stopped itching. More than that, the pain dissipated too. It was like it had never happened. I removed my hand from where it had been pressing against the socket, blinking away a moment of blurry half-vision.
I went about my day without giving it another thought, letting the warmth of the sun soothe my concerns until it dissipated back into an oddity of the otherwise mundane morning.
…
The next day, the itch returned. It was not the slow escalation that built over time, not like the morning last. It returned immediately, and without the encouragement of my touch a searing pain came to join it. It was sudden and brutal, like nothing I could have prepared myself for. I winced, sucking a short breath through clenched teeth while the agony felt like a nail had punctured my eye, an invisible hammer pounding the stake deeper through the orb as it burrowed towards my brain. Beneath it all, was the desire to wipe at my eye, to press into it deeper with the flesh of my palm, anything that would lessen the pain and overwhelming urge to scratch at it some more.
My jaw opened with a click, muscles tightening around clenched joints. I started to cry out, the overwhelming pain so profoundly unique, unlike anything I’d known before. A shaky hand rising to my face, I pressed the back of it into my face, wrist twisting as the bones of my knuckles rolled into my eye socket.
For a fraction of a second, the white hot poker that had been stabbed into the edge of my eye lessened. But it only lasted for part of a breath, just long enough for me to think that the worst of it might be done. Oh, how I was wrong.
The torture leaped from the edge of my eye to encompass the whole orb. With a feeling like knives were dragging their edges in sadistic figure eights against the gelatinous flesh. My stomach twisted, and I was sure that I would empty my breakfast onto the floor. All the while, my world was starting to spin, encompassing delirium gripping my mind. I cried out in pain once more, this time wetted by moisture that streamed down my cheeks and poured from my nose. I don’t know when, but I’d entered the fetal position, my free hand wrapping around my knees to pull them closer to my chest – as if that would somehow help me.
As the pain continued to increase, my thoughts became muddier, with every passing second it was becoming harder to form a cohesive thought. I knew my limited options were becoming even scarcer, I knew that soon I would black out from the pain and by then my fate would be sealed. I tried to think of something to try, except only my screams rattled my brain, the only brief respite being when a fresh inhale was needed to produce more of the painfilled noise. I didn’t know who would hear, I lived alone, and the walls leading to the outside world were fairly thick. Even if someone heard me, and happened to call the police; even if they made it to me before I gave myself a hernia - what could they possibly do?
Between a volley of screaming that my tucked head had been directing to my knees, I stopped to suck in a short inhale. When I started again, a new sound pulled at the back of my mind, barely audible over my own voice.
‘Do you want me to help?’
Silence filled my home. Jaw creaking from its fully extended position, vision blurred from the tears that covered both pupils while I hesitated. Did I hear that? I wondered for a fraction of a second. “What?” my voice rasped in a hoarse sound, my throat torn from my abrupt and violent usage of it. The voice was more like a whisper when it had spoken to me, I was unsure if I’d even heard it or if my mind had conjured it in the delirium.
“Would you like my help?”
My head nodded furiously, a new round of tears spilling to the surface. “Yes, yes,” I begged, “please make it stop.”
Same as the last time, the pain melted away as abruptly as it had come on. With shaky limbs, I rose from the floor, my breath still quivering as quiet whimpers escaped my lips. Blinking away the moisture I stared at the floor in a confused amazement, wondering what was going on, or if I’d maybe imagined the whole thing. Besides the constant shivers from the dump of adrenaline and the crust along my cheek I didn’t have any hard evidence, or witnesses to the strange episodes.
Dragging feet across the floor, the adrenaline gave way to such a heavy exhaustion, the urge to collapse on my bed and sleep for a day was an alluring proposition. After what felt like an extremely long minute of lumbering to the bathroom, I made it to the mirror, hoping to find some proof of my pain that I could show someone.
When I looked up at the reflective pane hanging above the sink, I flinched so hard that I nearly fell into the tub behind me. The image was distorted, like an object held so close to my face that part of it had duplicated. In the mirror, half of my face seemed the same as I’d seen it when I brushed my teeth a few hours earlier.
The other half of my face was a sickly green, holes pockmarked my flesh with red and pink beneath. Aside from my pumice stone complexion, gashes dragged deep wounds erratically at different angles across my face, many of the creases formed lips of hardened puss and gangrene. Some of the wounds dug deeper to show the milky white bone beneath. The front of my nose had also fallen off or decayed to a point where all that was left was the twin tunnel leading into my brain. In the ghoulish half of my now haunting visage, my eye popped from its socket. The eye lids long since decayed to leave a permanently wide-eyed expression, the gaps between the yellow stained orb and the socket gave it the appearance of floating inside my face.
My otherwise normal eye widened, panic and confusion crawling up from the depths. Directing my hand to rise to my face, I watched it slowly creep from the bottom of my vision. As it crossed into the half of my face that was closer to a mummified husk, my digits changed. The skin around my hand turned putrid, the digits became gangly, while fingernails curled and fell off. Waving my fingers in front of my face, I watched the bones and sagging skin sway like a tattered curtain. I gawked at the sight with a morbid curiosity for a few seconds before yanking it from view, a sudden urgency brought on by fear of it as atrophying if I held it out for any longer.
Hidden from view, I clenched my hand in a few investigatory squeezes, rubbing into it with deep massaging presses. It felt normal, but I needed to be sure. Eyes drifting down, I caught a glimpse of my exposed forearm. Like my hand, craters of decaying flesh marred the limb, some gaping holes as large as quarters, they patterned the limb like a macabre art piece.
Head snapping to the side, I quickly looked away from my hands and arms. As my vision swept from the normal scene into the altered sight the cabinets and walls transformed. In the edge of my vision, they were aged, wallpaper curling into a soaked yellow, spackles of black mold staining its surface.
What is this? I wondered, still struggling to comprehend what my eyes were showing me, each of them showing a different version of the same image. My neck craned to the side so I could look at the same spot along the wall with my other eye. In an instant, it returned to the plain taupe as soon as it entered the other half of my vision. The cheap replica painting and few family pictures, reformed into something cohesive.
Careful not to glance at the mirror or anything else that might show me my reflection, I rubbed my hand along the forearm that had been spackled with lesions and sores. Underneath my fingers, I felt the dry skin and thin hairs all standing at attention. But no holes, I remarked with a shaky breath. I stepped from the bathroom, with my eyes straight ahead. It’s in your head, it’s not there – I’m fine. The thought brought a measure of comfort, like the knowledge that I’d been imagining everything would leave my physical form intact. That was until I realized that viewing the world through a glass of atrophy and death was still far from normal.
Can I just cover it? The thought was so simple and would be an easy solution to my problem. Suddenly brimming with hopeful vigor, I shut my right eye, the one that had been so abruptly afflicted with the visions of decomposition.
Confusion battered at my mind when my sight remained unaltered. It was odd. I felt the side of my face scrunch, my eyelid closing over the orb, yet my view of the withering wall was unaltered. Cupping my hand to cover the eye, it didn’t block the twisted sight either. Investigating the other eye, I was quick to find that it could still be closed as normal, but all that did was limit my field of view while plunging the remainder of my vision in a gut-wrenching hellscape.
I grunted quietly at the new oddity, unsettled for what came next.
…
For six days, I shut myself out from the world. I hid. I got used to walking corpses handing me pizza, and me handing them money that had long since shriveled and faded into blank notes, yet they always accepted it with a smile. Have you ever witnessed a half-mummified body smile? Witnessed the lesions about his face twist and curl along bloated cheek bones, or the black stained teeth that hung at an angle loosely in his mouth by a stubborn corner. I of course could still see the man through my other eye, the image oscillating between decomposition and the youthful vigor of a young man trying to make a few bucks on the side by dropping off pizzas.
Each day I couldn’t stomach more than a few bites. The concept of eating was difficult when from the corner of my vision I constantly saw rotting food. Food I’d just ordered fresh that was shrunken and shriveled, taken over by carpets of mold black and green. The toppings turned from their vibrant colours of red and green to stomach churning shades of black and grey. Even if I looked to the ceiling to avoid glancing at my food, I was then treated to stained plaster, littered with holes that revealed the deteriorating wood behind it. If I could manage a few bites, it tasted like the pizza I’d known and loved before. But I couldn’t purge the images of the rotten meal from my mind, the thought was always there to shut down any thoughts of a meal.
It wasn’t just the lack of nutrients either, being unable to shut one of my eyes made sleep near impossible. Even with curtains drawn and the lights turned off, the pitch black surrounding was insufficient. Something about my brain knew that my eye was open, and refused to offer anything resembling acceptable sleep. After being awake for three days, I did eventually sleep – it wasn’t for very long. Three hours if I recall correctly, jolting awake immediately after my brain caught up to what it believed was the still open eye. The days after were profoundly lethargic, doing anything felt like it took hours, each moment of it like wading through a muddy bog. As well, the biological need for my brain to shut down every few hours left me nodding off constantly, only to wake a few minutes later.
I felt myself at my limit, my mind stretched to the absolute edge of what it could handle. How many more days can I go before a psychotic break? Until a stroke finally takes me? From my seat at the kitchen table, I glance to the counter, eyeing the arrangement of cleavers and blades with a quiet alluring. Quickly, my head shook. Not yet.
“Would you like my help?”
I jolted up from my chair. Snapping to attention with a sudden surge of energy. The quick movement dizzied my vision, pulling me to the side as I wobbled slightly. After recovering my wavy vision, my neck snapped to both sides for a quick examination of the small room. It was empty. “Hello?”
“Would you like my help?”
It was like the voice was in my head, echoing in both ears, seeming everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman, a perfectly balanced timber that betrayed no emotion, neither malicious nor benevolent – it was simply there.
“What are you?”
Pausing for a long bout of silence, the voice held its answer, before finally responding with the same question. “Would you like my help?”
My mouth opened, but I nearly bit my tongue with how quickly my jaw shut. Shaking my head violently, I rubbed my arms vigorously, hoping it would quell the hairs that had risen along each of them. I knew the truth. It doesn’t help. It was the voice that made my vision like this. The piercing pain is also thanks to the voice’s ‘help’. But, I couldn’t deny that the thought of a full night’s sleep, of a meal that I didn’t immediately evacuate afterwards was incredibly appealing.
Had I been more rested, had I not been so exhausted and desperate, I might have possessed the fortitude to turn down the proposition. However, I was not, and I did not. “Yes,” I croaked in a voice that was dried to the limit of what my body could handle. Like the food, water had a similar effect on my brain, taking on the look of liquified sewage, like pond scum with a wisp of foam atop it.
Almost immediately, I felt a pinch behind my eye. It forced a wince from me as I withstood the discomfort, only for it to dissolve a moment later. My vision had returned, in my kitchen I saw my cabinets and stove top, the table I was sitting at and the half-eaten slice of pizza from last night. I lunged for the twisted remains of the meat supreme, wolfing it down in two ambitious bites. Stumbling to the sink, I cupped my hands beneath the open faucet, frantically funneling warm tap water into my stomach.
I felt like a man lost in the desert, stumbling into an oasis after days of exhaustion. Ignoring the protestations of my stomach, I jumped to the fridge where I’d stored the rest of the leftovers. Ripping contents from the shelves, they were scattered onto the table in a chaotic feast that I couldn’t wait to dive into.
That was when I heard a sound. It was quiet like the voice had been, simultaneously all around me and nowhere at the same time. I’d heard it for the briefest of instances, like a word half caught at the end of it being spoken somewhere in the distance. Struggling to place it, the noise sang out again. The quiet screech of metal is what I heard, like a knife being dragged against steel somewhere in the distance, as if it was the faint echoes of someone sharpening a knife. Or a rusted pair of scissors opening.
It screeched once more, this time louder and closer, with the unmistakable click of shears closing. Instantly, the vision in my recovered eye blurred, as if they suddenly needed glasses. Stumbling backwards in surprise, I was mostly amazed to not be feeling any discomfort besides the few squeals of metal I’d heard in my ear. Once more the metal wailed, and this time the vision in my blurred eye shifted. The obfuscated items of green and red dulled, its hues becoming barely legible, closer to grey than their original colours.
My breath skipped, then drew short inhales quickly through my nose. Between my rapidly drawn breaths, my ears picked up the quiet screech once more. I froze, immediately clenching every muscle I could while even my lungs paused.
One second.
Two.
Nothing. Whatever was doing this to me was relishing in the fear that was starting to scratch at my mind.
Then the snip. I flinched at the subtle pinch, and the darkness that immediately fell on the side of my vision. It wasn’t like an eye was closed, where my field of view should have become narrower. There was only darkness. A dribble of moisture trickled down my cheek, not tears but something else. Raising cautious fingers, they poked towards the wetness that continued to flow down to my chin, quickly returning with tips dyed a crimson red.
A part of me was terrified, too terrified to stumble to the mirror and see what the voice had done to me. But the much louder part of my mind demanded sleep, so I curled up into a ball on the floor, grateful I could finally close my eyes. Tomorrow’s problem will be dealt with tomorrow.
…
The next morning I woke with a spasm coursing through my limbs, like I’d been jolted awake by a bolt of lightning. A stabbing pain raced down the back of my neck, creeping into my spine with its barbed wire touch. Along the side of my head was a different pain, this one dull and thumping to the steady beat of my heart. My arms and legs felt sore, with a sensation of pins and needle gripping the one arm that I seemed to have slept on.
My mind wandered while I struggled to my feet, trying to recall the faint lickings of the terrible dream that I’d suffered last night. But as my eyes drifted to the wall, and the black void covering half of my vision became more apparent, I remembered. It wasn’t a dream at all.
Wobbling legs carried me to the bathroom. Both hands gripping the sinks edge, I couldn’t look. Fear scratched at the back of my mind, I knew the truth, I didn’t need a reflection to confirm it. It was only after I felt my knuckles whitening from the pressure for several long seconds that I pushed through the heavy fog, gathering the will to look at the reflective pane across me.
Where there should have been my eye was a crater. With its true depth hidden by the shadow of my skull, I could only imagine how deep the cavern in my face went, the parts I could see were lined with the near black crimson of dried blood. Beneath the hollowed socket were also thin streams of dried blood, forming narrow paths towards my chin like pain filled tears. I raised a trembling hand to my eye, like I’d done before, but this time to see if what I was seeing was in fact real. I watched in the mirror while tremors rocked my extended finger, watched the finger descend into the crater that was the eye socket. As my hand flinched, part of a fingertip rubbed against the moist flesh that lined the inside of my socket. I felt no pain in my face, but the rest of me felt like I’d just been punched in the gut. My stomach immediately flipped and I suddenly had to contend with the urge to empty my stomach into the sink.
My breath was shaky, shuddering air that I tried to control before it got away from me. But I felt myself losing the battle, each breath harder to draw than the last. In, and out. My feeble commands were having little effect, the dread becoming stronger as I knew what would come next. Like a hunter in the night, one second I felt fine, the next second, a dryness at the edge of my remaining eye. It twitched slightly, a tremor in the nerves that could have come from anything. I couldn’t yet tell if it was a lack of moisture in the air or something more.
Then my eye started to sting, and I realized I’d been holding it open for a few seconds straight. Fear demanded it be held ajar, unsure if it was a natural discomfort or the beginnings of the next round of torture.
Only holding it open for a few seconds longer, I eventually blinked. Breath held, while my lungs froze. Still unsure if I conjured the new itch, I tested the feeling in my eye. Is it gone? I wondered when I couldn’t feel anything more than the slight stinging along its edges. Chest finally collapsing, I drew long breaths with shut eyes. With each shuddering breath, I analyzed the sensations that coursed through the nerve endings along my face. I’m fine, I promised myself.
Then the urge to rub at my eye became stronger, forcing twitches all along the side of my face, even down to my jaw. Don’t. Instead I clenched my hands while my mind drifted to something else that might distract me, like the stale air flowing in and out of my nose, the rattle of the furnace creeping through the vents.
I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done, the back of my hand pressing into my eye socket and slowly wiping across it. Dry skin from the back of my hand was wetted, the cracks along my skin filled with the moisture my eye had been producing. More tears joined it as I realized with a jolt what I’d done.
“Wait,” I whispered in a shuddered breath.
It didn’t wait. Like a needle, a stabbing pain pierced the side of my eye, feeling like it punctured through to the other side too. A howl of pain escaped my lips, echoing in the acoustics of my narrow bathroom. Legs immediately giving way, I fell to the floor, already half curling into a ball atop the small shag carpet I’d laid by the sink. Palm pressing against the eye, I let my vision go black while stars of white spackled my vision. Short hissing breaths filled the room as I grappled with the return of the violent pain. Even as it felt like the stake plunging through my eye was twisted, as the nerves and sinew wrapped around each other into an unimaginable squeezing – I fought it.
I don’t know where the strength had come from, the sudden urge to resist became everything that I set my mind towards. Grinding my teeth together, my waning strength was being battered, it had been seconds and already my will was on the precipice of collapsing all together.
Then an image fluttered into view. It stole my breath, air freezing as shock gripped my system. My stolen eye was still gone, the right side of my face covered with inky nothingness. The remaining one that had been covered by my hand, abruptly shifted into a sideway view of my floor. I saw my bathroom tiles, chipped and faded; the carpet, patchy and molded; the walls, chipped of its paint, made pale by years of sunlight, and stained from years of neglect. What I saw was not my bathroom, not the bathroom I’d been in when I collapsed to the floor.
Like a sadistic poem, the itching, pain, and macabre vision assaulted me all at once. It was like it knew that my will was brittle, that my desire to resist was hanging onto the edge of the cliff by only my finger tips.
Then something shifted in my mind, a final surge of resistance. A spiteful rebellion gripped my thoughts, a rage that flared up abruptly with the surging of a wildfire as it tore through a forest of dried kindling. I wished to confront the source of my torment, to grip it by the neck and throttle it into submission. As I tapped into this new reservoir of strength, my hands balled into fists. Where the fuck is it? I demanded in my mind. As if I’d summoned it myself, the voice spoke. “Would yo–”
“Fuck you!”
“Would you li–”
“No!” I screamed my throat raw.
“Would you like my help?”
“I would like you to leave me. I’m never going to ask for your help.”
For a few long seconds, the voice didn’t respond. It left me with the unbearable itch that no amount of rubbing could satisfy, the sadistic agony that I was powerless to quell, and the knowledge that my vision had been plunged back into the unescapable hellscape - but at least it was quiet.
Until it wasn’t.
“Would you like my help?!” It suddenly screamed in my ear. I flinched in surprise, it was the first time that the cool dispassion of the voice was broken. “Would you like my help?!” It repeated a fraction of a moment later. “Would you like my help?!” Shouting over and over, the voice didn’t pause to breathe, repeating the words as soon it had finished the furious request. As the vicious battery of the question continued, I tried to fight it, shaking my head violently as if it would loosen the sound and even screaming alongside it to drown out the noise. Nothing worked, the unending noise persisting in my mind.
With each attempt to break my will, the question was starting to sound different. It was changing slightly, with at first minor variance in its tone, and cadence. With each failed attempt, the difference in the request after it became more stark to the point where I was starting to hear different ages, genders, and even accents in the repeating petition.
Cupping both hands over my ears, it did nothing to mute the sound. I screamed to drown out the sound, but the voices were louder. My face grimaced in stalwart resistance. I’m not going to give in, I assured myself. The voice had taken enough, I would give it no more ground.
…
How foolish I was. I know this now.
My jaw was impossibly sore from clenching teeth into a twisted grimace; sweat matted down hair against my forehead, and stained my shirt with the proof of my defiance. My will was brittle, a resigned exhaustion filling every one of my muscles. “Would you like my help?!” A woman yelled, she sounded Asian, eerily close to the woman who worked the counter at the small Chinese market I used to shop at. The requests had changed their tone some time ago, I don’t know how long I’d been curled in the ball before it, and I don’t know how much time has passed since. There was a desperation to her sound, a brief and frantic plea before she was shunted to the side in place of the next voice in the endless queue.
“Would you li-” the next one started.
“Fine,” I whispered in a voice so soft I barely heard it myself. The voice heard me though, halting its request now that I’d finally caved. In the silence I thought I could feel it relishing in my pain, soaking in my surrender and what little fear I could muster for what comes next. And as one second drifted into the next, a part of me started to believe that nothing would happen.
That was when the voices responded. In a booming chorus, ten thousand voices spoke as one, “thank you.” The thundering voices were impossibly loud, simultaneously loud enough to fill a stadium but also bearable as it echoed in my head. They sounded as tired as I felt, and the relief in their tones gave me a measure of calm. I was exhausted, too exhausted to feel anything when the screech of the twin metal blades scratched my mind. Managing to get my feet under me, I rose to stand.
My vision had turned back to normal once more, and I knew it was all but a fact that it would be for the last time. I would have liked to look at a sunset if it was going to be the last thing I saw, but I doubted the cruel voices would allow me that mercy. So I stared at my haggard features in the mirror. The gaping maw that was my right eye no longer bothered me, a grim acceptance finally quelling the shock and revulsion I’d felt before. In three quick cuts, the view of my face went from blurry to grey, and then finally to black. With a relieved breath, my hand wiped the new trickle from what was my last eye.
…
That was a week ago. My friends and family thought I’d lost my mind, that I suffered a mental break and decided to scoop my eyes out with a spoon. At first I was in disbelief, then rage, but after a few days of quiet contemplation I’d made my peace with it.
Who could blame them if they didn’t believe my story; the voices in my head, the unscratchable itch, the unimaginable stabbing pain, the visions of rot and decay that had become everything I saw. Who could blame them if they didn’t believe me when I told them of the rusted scissors in my mind that snipped at my eye before plucking it from my head. I could barely believe it myself, some nights questioning if maybe they were right.
However, I could blame them for having me locked in an institution. In the solitude of my padded room, I was given time to think, to recall the events and search through what I felt. It was in that sterile room, beneath the quiet buzzing of what I could only assume were fluorescent lights, the truth solidified in my mind.
I am not crazy.
I am not delusional.
…
“How did that feel?”
“Good, I guess.”
“That’s good, it’s good to talk about these things.”
“You’re the doctor.”
“That I am. I’m going to leave this with you, use it to record your thoughts or whatever you’d like. It’s yours, you won’t have to share the recordings with anyone unless you want to.”
---
My throat is itching, and no amount of water, tea, lozenges, or even salt water gargled has helped. The men and women in flapping coats say that I’m sick. BUT I’M NOT SICK. I know it like I know that water is wet.
I tried to make them understand, but they wouldn’t listen. Even as the two larger men wrapped thick hands around both my arms and carried me to the far end of my padded cell. Even as I kicked and screamed and fought furiously. Even as the needle slipped into my skin to deliver the fluid that would ‘calm me down’. Even as I begged and pleaded with them to just kill me instead.
My throat is still itching.
…
I record this now, knowing I’m dead. It’s almost impossible to talk, each entry takes most of the day, but I need to record something of myself.
I’ve accepted that with a desperate trusting in whatever comes next. The only hope that I truly cling to in this life is that someone finds this, and that they believe me.
…
I can barely swallow. Water, saliva, even air all struggle to slip down my neck. I hear the quiet murmuring of the nurses and doctors when they check on me, they think I’m doing something to myself.
I try to tell them that it’s back, but they only give me more drugs.
“I don’t understand it,” I heard one of them say.
…
A nurse came by with my medicine. I asked her to kill me. She said the medicine was a muscle relaxant for my throat.
I told her it wouldn’t work.
I made her listen to my choked sobs as she locked the door behind her.
Why won’t they just kill me?
…
I heard a sound. I know I heard this sound. It was like a whisper, gentle as a wisp of smoke, but it was there.
“Would you like me to help?”

submitted by xPenguinzx to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 14:44 HeartwarmingRadio From Urban Dictionary. After 13 years, such hateful post is funny to read

https://preview.redd.it/k8j1tgzvt9ra1.png?width=673&format=png&auto=webp&s=3c1963699f609e62c817820df027ed4ddcf9b275

submitted by HeartwarmingRadio to TheGaslightAnthem [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 14:13 kayenano The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer: Chapter 22

[<< First] [< Previous] [Next >]

Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.

Chapter 22: Something Rotten In Tirea
I raised my head, peeking up to see a small shaft of moonlight pouring in from the newly opened ceiling.
It took me several seconds to realise the discrepancy in a shaft of moonlight appearing underground. Not because I wasn't highly perceptive and quick-witted. On the contrary, I was a girl of reason. And moonlight underground most certainly didn't belong in my world of ice cold logic.
I blew my dark fringe away from my eyes, then shook off the dust and small pieces of rubble that had settled on my head. Beside me, Coppelia did the same, then nodded as she peered up at the small hole leading up to the sky.
“8/10,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“8/10. My rating for the explosion.”
“That was an 8/10?”
“I've seen better. Look at us. We're fine.”
“Is … Is that a merit or demerit?”
Coppelia shrugged, still lying on the floor. She looked down and peered at the water basin ahead of us. Or rather, the dry crater that had taken its place.
“I think you should ask that to Miss Ultimate Power. Speaking of whom ...”
I joined Coppelia in taking in the view.
Well, now. Wasn't this a mess?
It was a wreckage beyond imagination.
A dedicated team of five maids armed with very large dustpans would be required to sift through the rubble for any usable arcana crystals. And then also tidy up afterwards, too.
Neither my sword nor the shaft of moonlight was capable of highlighting the extent of the destruction. But it wasn't needed. It was like the day a poodle had run through my armoire. Unsalvageable.
And then there was the matter of Marina Lainsfont.
“She's no longer here,” I said, climbing to my feet. “... In any capacity.”
It didn't take a surveying team to see a lack of anyone in the crater.
And that included a body.
Despite the size and scale of the explosion, Marina Lainsfont had made herself scarce. The alternative, that she'd been blown into oblivion, was unlikely. Not only because she was clearly a prodigious mage, but also due to the presence of her effects in the centre of the crater.
“Clothes,” said Coppelia, stretching herself out before kicking up the scythe at her feet. She caught it nimbly in one hand. “All of it. And in one tidy pile, as well. Including her underwear.”
She raised her hand to her brow and narrowed her eyes.
“Hmm. Black. I figured as much.”
I took a few steps forwards, skidding on a loose pebble, and then peered clearly into the crater.
Why, it was true.
That really was her underwear.
I had … yes, I had absolutely no clue what to make of that.
“How is it that Miss Lainsfont has come to vanish, while her highly personal articles of clothing remains behind?”
“Hmm … if I had to guess, by use of a very crude method of teleportation.”
I turned around to see Coppelia give a twirl of her scythe, just before she held it out horizontally in front of her. As she'd done when calling forth her weapon, she clapped her hands. This time, however, the scythe dematerialised as her palms came together, leaving only a puff of misty shadow as evidence of the ridiculous weapon she'd just utilised.
Ugh.
Questions.
I had to ask questions, didn't I?
This was the problem with commoners and nobility alike. Why couldn't these people simply provide me an answer? It was no secret I was going to query the giant shadowy moonlit death scythe conjured in and out of existence. Did I need to write out my question with quill and ink first?
I let out a quiet sigh.
One thing at a time. As always.
“Doesn't all forms of magic teleportation include the transfer of one's articles of clothing with them as a matter of personal dignity?”
“As I said, crude. It might be a lesser version of an established spell, chosen for brevity over function. If she was in the middle of a blow-up-everything attack, then that would've made it all the harder to cancel it. The feedback from stopping a big purple swirly ball spell that size would normally have knocked someone off their feet. If she managed to escape, then that would be her most impressive feat of spellcasting yet.”
I frowned. Impressive or not, Marina Lainsfont was now a wanted felon. She had attempted to murder me, and in the process dirtied my attire.
Ah, and she attempted to starve the poor. I almost forgot.
“How do we find out where she is now?” I asked as I brushed more dust off my skirt and leggings.
Coppelia shrugged.
“That'd take a lot of factors. And we're missing the biggest one: a mage of our own.”
“Are you not capable of wielding magic? I just witnessed you summoning and desummoning a scythe. A scythe!”
“Handy, huh? I don't need to carry it on my back. Sitting down is really hard if I do that. I have to pay for an extra chair at restaurants.”
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer.
“… But no, no magic. Not really. I can cast spells from tomes and scrolls. Sort of. On a good day. When there are no crowds. In an empty field. But I'm not a mage. My scythe is unique to me. I don't summon it with magic. I call it from the Clockwork Repository.”
“What is the Clockwork Repository?”
Coppelia blinked at me.
“I said nothing.”
I gave her even more of the raised eyebrow. She deserved nothing less.
“Very well … we've no magical method to track the mage, then.”
Frustrated, I looked back at the scattered clothing. That the culprit fled without the possibility of pursuit was deeply vexing. Almost as much as the tiny pebbles rattling around in my boots, but which I could only deal with when I had no witnesses to see me hopping around on one foot.
Then, I noticed something else among the hazardous collection of discarded clothing.
Sticking out from beneath a sock was the strap of a bag.
My interest perked up at once.
Well now … perhaps this wasn't a lost cause, after all?
“Her apron and dress weren't the only things she left behind,” I said, slowly dropping down the newly created embankment to this still smouldering crater.
“Mmh, about that, are we just not going to talk about the racy corset?”
“We're not going to talk about the racy corset.”
“Because it's very bold.”
“I can see that, yes.”
“Why do you think she needed to wear something so daring under her work dress? Is it to make her feel more confident? Something to give her the mental edge when haggling with customers?”
“Please, Coppelia. She only tried to murder us. Allow her some dignity.”
“My bad.”
Coppelia followed after me, offering a hand as I almost slipped and fell. I accepted it, then allowed her to lead me as she treaded a path while I shone Starlight Grace upon the numerous smaller holes that dented the crater.
Once at the pile of shrunken and twice drenched clothes, I leaned down and picked up the strap of the bag.
“Ugh … the odour.”
It was Marina's alchemy satchel, filled with the contents of her store.
Potions of all shapes and colours peeked out at me, almost none of which I could recognise, save for the healing vials. There was more than potions, too. In addition to finished concoctions, a myriad of … dead things were here. Reagents, almost certainly. But whether they came from something that was once animal, plant or monster was a mystery to me.
More to my interest was the envelope.
“That's the one you handed over, isn't it?” said Coppelia, already motioning for me to open it. “Go on. Finders, keepers.”
Habit instructed me to pretend to hesitate before pulling out the letter.
To read another's correspondence was an unseemly thing to do, which is why I always feigned guilt before doing so.
Why, if my mother and father wished for me to stop reading their letters, then they needed to stop sending out invitations to meet with me. To date, more than two hundred replies had been inexplicably lost in transit. Couriers, apparently, had difficulty locating the Royal Villa.
Marina,
I won't waste ink on apologies. If you wish to hear them, then I will do so in person.
Each night, I hear new stories from travellers, soldiers and adventurers.
They spin tales of devastation to the south. Of felled crops sapped of life, as though drained of the will to live.
I don't know what has happened, yet I fear the worst is to come. Something dark stirs in this kingdom.
I do not wish for you to become part of it.
Please come home. Before it's too late. Cedric will take you. He and Apple both know the way.
Your father.
I read the letter, then carefully placed it back into its envelope.
Did the barkeeper know, I wonder? The wording was … ambiguous. Perhaps to him, his daughter truly was a simple alchemist making do in a farming town.
I frowned. He'd need to reconcile with the fact that his daughter was a runaway criminal of the highest calibre. A problem. That pub was the only thing keeping the drunks of that village under observation in one location. If it closed for even a night, we may have riff-raff wandering as far as the Royal Villa's main gate.
I shuddered at the thought.
“How boring, not even a love letter,” said Coppelia, before leaning over the alchemist's satchel. “Is there a book in there, by any chance?”
I offered her the satchel. She took it, then began tossing out potions and vials one by one. A disgusting ooze soon formed behind her, melting what remained of the earth until it was no longer inhabitable by even the dust.
“The spell she learned from that … book of yours. Are you familiar with its workings?”
“Here and there. I skim a lot of books. The library's big.”
“You mentioned that the original spell needed maintaining. If that's so, is it possible that the Withering will fade if Marina is no longer capable of doing so?”
Coppelia gave a hum, pausing to eye a black liquid, before tossing it over her shoulder. A plume of smoke in the shape of a skull rose from the bottle as it smashed.
“No spell lasts forever. And the rule of thumb is that the stronger it is in one aspect, the weaker it is in another. Magic is about compromise, not perfection. If I were to bet, I'd say that the Withering will fade exactly as fast as it spreads.”
She looked up from the satchel and beamed.
“I'm not betting, though. So it'll be up to the poor farmers and townsfolk of this dreary town to decide how best to survive until then.”
I nodded.
In that case, the next set of actions was clear.
It was to ensure that every guard and adventurer in the lowlands was aware of Marina Lainsfont's plot … along with a generous bounty to boot. So long as she was suitably disrupted, then she would no longer be able to maintain her hold on the kingdom's grain production.
A name from the letter tugged at me as I thought back to the Adventurer's Guild.
Cedric. That was … well, I had a 50% chance of being correct. Perhaps 40%. Whatever his name was, I would need the twirly moustache guildmaster to deliver the news of Marina's nefarious plot to a host of parties. His own guild members. The local garrison captain. The baron and his staff. And then the adventurers, captains and nobility of all the surrounding towns as well.
And then also the barkeeper.
I glanced at Coppelia, noting her glum expression as she emptied the satchel from the bottom. I caught a glimpse of the smouldering pile of liquid death behind her and stepped away from the upside-down satchel.
“No unreturned book, I take it?”
“Nope. But this is good. I know who has it now. I'll be prepared next time.”
“Will you leave in pursuit?”
“Hmm ...” Coppelia pursed her lips in thought, looking to the corner. “I could. But I have a feeling I don't need to. Miss Pyromaniac will appear again. And I'm guessing it'll be to you.”
For a moment, I felt nothing but grief, realising I now lived a life where people could very well do that. My appointments were considerably less dramatic when those without invitations were stopped by armed guards.
“Oh? And what makes you say that?”
“People don't plot famines for fun. There's a design. Whoever wrote this letter is right. Something dark stirs in this kingdom. And if you intend to shine that very bright sword of yours onto it, then those doing the stirring will take note.”
Coppelia leaned in and smiled.
However, in contrast to the usual stars which glittered in her turquoise eyes, all I saw during that smile was the impression of an empty, night sky, devoid of even the thinnest moonlight.
“As assistant librarian, my job is to find missing books and levy fines to those who fail to uphold their borrow agreement. The fine is very far-reaching, and cannot be commuted. Should Miss Racy Corset fail to pay the full fee, then I will be forced to extend the terms of her punishment to those who can.”
I leaned back slightly, feeling a shiver run up my spine as I took in the coldness in her words. Needless to say, I was utterly shocked by the change in demeanour.
It was wonderful!
Oh, how truly marvellous! The broad shift in tone! The subtle hint towards indiscriminate methods to achieve her goals! The wanton disregard to those who fail to match her unilateral demands!
Here was not just a future attendant … but a future handmaiden!
Only those who could threaten with a smile were eligible for the role. Yes, she would need to learn how to dress me and de-bedify my hair. But those were skills that could be learned.
Laying low foes with but a word … now that was a talent.
Sadly, this version of Coppelia wasn't to last.
She upped the radiance of her smile, her eyes returning to their sparkly ocean hue as she lightly tossed the empty satchel back to me.
“That's why I'm going to stick with you a bit longer,” she finished, twirling around before pointing towards the chamber exit. “... Shall we?”
I blinked at this unexpected declaration.
And then—I smiled.
“Ohhohoho … but of course! You need not state the obvious. As my future handmaiden, your place is as set in stone as my cuteness is set in my embarrassing childhood portraits. I would not entertain you leaving my side for even a moment.”
“No, I'm definitely leaving your side for lots of moments. I have things to do. Sleeping. Bathing. Sleeping while bathing.”
“Come, Coppelia! We must deliver news of this evening's events to the Adventurer's Guild. We will find no shortage of willing mules there to carry word of Marina Lainsfont's vile actions.”
“Okie~”
Buoyed by the unexpected upgrading of a mere prospective attendant, I set off towards my next destination.
“Oh, wait. I almost forgot.”
And then came to an immediate stop.
Turning to Coppelia, I eyed the empty space over her shoulder, picturing the absurd weapon masked in moonlight and shadows that had briefly resided there.
“Why a scythe?”
Coppelia hummed, putting her finger against her cheek in thought.
At last, she clapped her hands together and beamed.
“Because scythes are cool!”
“I see.”
I turned to the chamber's exit, deciding not to ask any further questions.

[<< First] [< Previous] [Next >]

submitted by kayenano to HFY [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 13:26 Forsaken-Garlic4818 money diary: I‘m 28, live in Boston, make roughly $70k as a 👩🏼‍🏫 and everyone is ragey at work this week! (emoji-style baby)

part 1: net worth
positive net worth

category	#shesworthsomething
💹 15,700	Roth IRA, not much but it’s honest work. I wasn’t able to contribute last year but sent $1400 this month. Don’t think I will max this year but will do what I can.
📱 1,400	457, not even sure why I contribute to this ($50/paycheck)
📈 25,100	Pension – cash value not super relevant here. 11% mandated contribution
💰 7,100	checking
🤑 3,000	HYSA @ 4.25%
➕ 52,300	we keep it positive around here

debt

category	oops, she’s in debt again
💷 -45,203	Private student loan @ 4.79%, paid biweekly but sending extra $
💸 -72,957	Undergrad Stafford + grad @ 5.2%. halfway done with PSLF!
➖ 118,160	😬 (but it looks worse on paper!)

casita

category	ah, but what about the house?
🏡 362,000	Purchase price, spring 2022, ginormous (income-restricted) condo
💸 -317,026.81	Mortgage #1 balance @ 2.75%
♊ -23,431.95	Mortgage #2 balance @ 0%, down-payment assistance paid in full at end of mortgage or resale
➕ 21,541.24	Equity including both mortgages, since not including #2 feels disingenuous

NET WORTH: -45,672.46
part 2: income
Nothing exciting here as a public school teacher. My salary is fixed and the entire internet can figure out exactly how much I make. Next year I will apply to be a new teacher mentor to move over a lane (6% raise while I do the job). We won a great raise in our last contract so we can finally be paid almost as much as everyone around us!
This is my 5th year teaching but am on step 6 of 11 due to a full year internship.
read my paycheck and weep
pay schedule: 24 paychecks a year (NOT 26), biweekly Fridays with the exception of holidays and the final day of school, where you receive paychecks 22, 23, 24 and are expected to make that last late June through early September
each paycheck is different, so let’s do paycheck #1

💹 2,935.83	gross
💊 -37.14	medicare (but not SS)
👩🏼‍⚕️ -325.65	PPO, I get sick often and in unexpected places
🦷 -42.97	dental
👓 -5.91	vision
📱 -50	457 contribution
🚕 -184.19	federal withholding
🚖 -114.32	state withholding
📈 -322.94	pension withholding
➕ 1,852.71	behold, how little of my take home I get to actually enjoy

Now paycheck #2

💹 2,935.83	gross
💊 -48.01	medicare (but not SS)
📱 -50	457 contribution
🚕 -323.86	federal withholding
🚖 -151.79	state withholding
📈 -322.94	pension withholding
💪🏼 -87	union power, baby
➕ 1,952.23	Also known at work as “the good paycheck”

For those keeping track at home, my monthly gross is typically 5,871.66 and my net is typically 3,804.94
Why typically?

If we have 3 paychecks in a month: enjoy the big fat no medical or union deduction!
…unless it’s April onwards, when they deduct health insurance from EVERY paycheck to cover your summer months (we call it double deduction season)
in December we get a premium holiday (1/2 medical deduction)
I also run an outdoors club at work, which I am paid $35/hr when I run the club and additional pay for certain trips (last month I was paid $375 alone for our annual weekend overnight before vacation). This can be wildly inconsistent but let’s just say I have an extra $100-150 to play with each month.

part 3: please enjoy my emoji'd YNAB categories

category 💲	PAY DEM BILLZ
🏡 1343.38	Putting the PIT in mortgage…or something like that. The other I is paid separately
⛲ 167	HOA
🔐 68.16	Was not required to have insurance at closing. Don’t be stupid like me.
🎓 0	fed loans, thanks Grandpa Joe. I think this will be about $250/m when it starts up again. PSLF date late 2028
⛽ 31	YNAB tells me this is my average since moving to my house. Grateful to have big windows and a “put a sweater on” childhood upbringing – touched the heat twice this year
🔌 50	Averaged to include spicy hot summer months (it was 34 this month)
💻 39.95	interwebs
🏫 412.92	Private loan, paid biweekly (so if it’s a rare 3 payment month it’s more). The minimum monthly payment is something like $316, but I’m sending an extra $50 to get some benefit from the power of compound interest. 4.79% is not a make or break rate. Payoff 2034 but hope this can happen sooner.
📰 12.50	NYT Academic rate
🚊 90	Monthly pass
🍿 15.99	Somebody needs to pay the HBO Max
➖ 2234.43	Assigned this month

⭐

category 💲	important semi-regular expenses
🎁 20	Averaged gifts and donations, we have a special scholarship at work
👗 0	I haven’t bought new clothes in a while and it’s starting to show.
🤸🏼‍♀️ 85	trampoline class
👩🏼‍⚕️ 60	YNAB tells me my average is 60/mo, but this is overinflated due to an MRI in November that I will only have to do (hopefully) one more time. I’m usually at the urgent care or a specialist doctor 1x/month (this month: a UTI), so it’s more like 30
🪑 40	Hard to quantify. Since I moved in, I had a free couch moved ($200), bought a very nice TV ($750), a vacuum ($250), filters for vacuum ($30), and the world’s nicest washer ($1900). So YNAB is telling me a horrifying $400/mo, but let’s call it 40 going forward
🌷 0	I was a good urban balcony gardener, but no balcony. Waiting for a community garden spot, hopefully next year
🍉 250	Includes booze and small household things (TP, paper towels, dish soap)
🥾 30	Am avid hiker and rollerblader. Averaged cost of trip incidentals like carpool or snacks, admission to roller rink
💊 55	3 lifesaving medicines (25/mo + 10/mo + 30 as needed) + 10 for whatever medicine needed for illness of the month (10 for antibiotics this month). Every year I get a new epi-pen for 10 or 30. This month was more like 85 because my pharmacy accidentally sent me a med I have plenty of.
➖ 500	rough guesstimate

⭐

monthly 💲	annual 💲	annual expenses (save early, save often)
🤑 3.95	🕛47.33	Splitting YNAB with a friend on the new family plan
💇🏼‍♀️ 22.50	🕛 270	2x curly haircuts a year (cut + tip)
🩰 127.78	🕛 1150	Pair of opening weekend orchestra tickets + donor perks + volunteer dues
🌴 55	🕛 650	My part of family vacation with parents
🕶 33.33	🕛 400	Annual eye visit (exam + contact fitting + 12 months contacts)
📦 11.59	🕛 139	prime shipping, no car in a store desert + my mom likes videos
🎄 50	🕛 600	I love Christmas
💸 ?	🕛 6500	Roth IRA, we’re getting aspirational. I sent $1400 this month because it was a 3 paycheck month. Going to try to max and see how far I get.
🦷 86.35	🕛 2250	Saving ½ of estimated costs for Invisalign – never had braces as a kid and now my teeth are pretty bad. Hoping to start May 2024. There is unfortunately no savings for paying everything upfront so I’m saving ½ now and expecting a monthly payment around 150/mo during the treatment.
➖390.50	🕛 4,686	Ignoring the Roth IRA

⭐

category 💲	very big savings
🌆 428.57	3k goal by August 2023 (current balance: 850), “No August pay” – we don’t get paid in August and the first week of September so setting aside money specifically for this without feeling guilty for draining my emergency fund
🕐 300	(181.82 since I’m ahead) Homeowner’s 1% Warchest, it’s exactly what it sounds like. For any and all home expenses (things breaking or projects). Current balance: 2k
🛑 140.91	Building back EF, goal is 3k by December 2023 (current balance: 1.7k). I know this is low but my job is hilariously stable. I will try to add another month in 2024.

⭐

category 💲	fun money!
💻 50	Laptop replacement, just chucking money in there. I’d like to buy a Lenovo IdeaPad Duet 5i since I love the 2 in 1 form factor. Currently have 100/600
🚝 70 (paused)	Travel fund contribution, but full at 350. BFF getting married in VT in August so hoping to turn it into a girl’s weekend with another BFF
🎮 65 (paused)	General video game fund – keep it topped up at 65 in case a new game drops OR if multiple games go on sale. I try to only buy games on deep sale
🎮 12.99	Final Fantasy XIV sub, I’ll retire someday
👯‍♀️ 50	Anything with friends, including eating out with them. usually 100 in the summer
🍦 30	“eating out” aka solo treats for myself (breakfast at dunks, small treats)
🎊 10	events happening that we want to go to not already covered, averaged.
➖ 202.99	Not including travel and video games since that’s topped up

If you add up the categories, I’m in the red and I’m well aware of it – not for much longer though, as I’m saving really aggressively. 😊
part 4: el diario
Day 1 – Saturday

🌅 gotta get dad to the ballet! 4.80
👯‍♀️ brunch with daddy-o before the ballet, I provide the tickets but he pays for brunch. his wallet is hurting because he only just got paid at his new job, so I kick in 20
👀 because brunch is attached to a swanky hotel and it’s PAX east wknd. 0 for free entertainment
🥤 my father requests a water bottle before the show. 6
🩰 don q, my 3rd time and dad’s 1st. Very good, but very long. 0 because these are volunteer comps
🚊 & 👋🏼
🧼 the casita before the week starts

total: 30.80
Day 2 – Sunday

💤 lazy Sunday morning (dw, I’m still up at 6). Read the NYT cover to cover then play 🎮
🚊 meeting a friend of a friend to help her do taxes but I’m early
📖 it’s gorgeous out so I photosynthesize in the BPL courtyard with my book club book
⛔ the wifi is too slow for us to do taxes so we pack up and 🚶🏼‍♀️ down newbury st until we settle at trident
👯‍♀️ I supervise her taxes, and eat a late lunch (grilled cheese w/ avo and tomato). 22.15
🍉 make the mistake of dragging this poor girl with me to the postage stamp sized TJ’s. and it’s 5:15. one does not shop here so much as get in line at the beginning & pick what you want as you go. a tall person fetches me frozen arepas. I come in right on budget so I’m pleased. 57.52
👋🏼 & 🚊 home to plan my week and decompress with 🎮 and 📖

Total: 79.67
Day 3 – Monday

🌅 it’s just before 6 and birds are happy, but now I am taking the 🚍 to work
🌉 stuck on the bus with my BOSS because a 🚢 is passing through the drawbridge. at least we can now fill out 90 second walk from the bus to dunks with acceptable new england small talk subjects (weather, transit, and sports) before she dips to get coffee
😡 the youth, because tomorrow & wednesday are standardized testing. sorry kids, I don’t make the schedule!
🙏🏼 “my plan is to read the questions carefully and ask God to help me know” – A+ testing strategy
✌🏼 2:30 and on my way home
🤸🏼‍♀️ take the 🚊 to go to bounce (0, see monthly expenses) and catch up with bounce buddy M.
🚶🏼‍♀️ walk with M. to the 🚊, go home for 🍜, 🚿, 📖, 🎮

Total: 0
Day 4 – Tuesday

🌅 hello, happy birds as I walk to the 🚍
🔥 the computers are not charged for testing. teenagers have been divested of all electronics and are not allowed to talk to each other. mayhem approaching in 3 … 2 … 1 …
🤬 nonstatus (male) colleague uses a work group text thread to refer to an unknown female colleague as the b-word. mayhem continues
❓ 2 hour (!) meeting after work due to snow day cancellations. male colleague doubles down on his comment before storming out. brain is mush
🚍 I remember nothing
🔐 as I am politely informed by my e-mail 68.16
👩🏼‍🍳 white bean & tomato stew & watch abbott elementary because it’s cathartic
🗣📕 ballet book club on zoom! we just finished a book about martha graham so we talk about it (I’m hosting next time about james whiteside)

total: 68.16
Day 5 – Wednesday

🌅 please go away, very loud mourning dove
🍎 computers are charged, the youth are not. Mr. Insult has decided not to come to work today (probably for the best?)
🤬 is there something in the water?! another nonstatus teacher informs me that two of my students are talking to each other in the hallway and are not following her instructions which tbh is a day that ends in Y. important context: her instruction is in English and they only understand Spanish. I send them back to their testing rooms and she says, “when students ignore me and continue to speak in a language they know I don’t understand, they are being assholes” UM! GOODBYE!!!
😡 before I say something I regret I turn heel and inform my boss of this interaction. she takes a breath and thanks me for letting her know
😤 this is me taking a calming inhale / exhale before returning to staring at children
🏹 when I am proctoring (read: not allowed to read, grade, do work, browse the interweb), I like to imagine how the hunger games would go down if these kids were in it. the odds are in this room’s favor overall.
👩🏼‍🏫 these miserable youth are forced into a half day of classes, so we conference about grades and I let them have some free time
🏕 run weekly outdoors club for the youth. one student informs me a teacher refuses to sign a permission slip & doesn’t know why. make mental note to find this person and politely inquire. students make a great poster of images from our last trip and practice map skills
✌🏼 at 3:30 to get the 🚂 to then get on the 🚊 to go to 🤸🏼‍♀️ … it sounds awful but it all goes pleasantly smoothly, especially given how the T has been. class is great, lots of one-legged kicking on the trampoline. this is my 2nd week in a row of going from 2x class a week to 3x and it’s a tough adjustment. 0
🚶🏼‍♀️ to the 🚊 with M., who can’t make it to class on Friday – sad!
💊 the medicine I didn’t ask for but keeps coming has arrived. Note to self to call pharmacy and ask them to stop, but says 0 refills. Not a total waste because I KNOW I will get bronchitis again & need this. 10
🍿 paid for to keep my mother happy 15.99
🍴 eat leftover stew and 📞 my mother and best friend T. to debrief this very strange day
🎮 and 📖 before bed

Total: 25.99
Day 6 – Thursday

🌅 ahoy! Run into coworker D. on the 🚍 who gets coffee at dunks. I am feeling weak and acquire some 🥑🍞 3.69
🤝🏼 find this teacher who refuses to sign permission slip (who is also new). his reasons are very valid and we agree on conditions the student needs to fulfill to attend trip. hooray, adults being civil!
🤬 that’s it, something is in the water. two best friends in 3rd hour begin a heated verbal altercation about … a girl? in the middle of my class?? One kid takes off so I call security to let them know he would benefit from a check-in. the other student begins texting threats to his buddy and goes off on me when I tell him to stop. what is happening?!
👼🏼 boy returns with security at end of class, so I walk him to dean to process. 35 minutes later dean says everything is gucci and no more problems. hormones, man.
✌🏼 please get me out of here
💻 bill is paid 39.95
👵🏼 our weekly call (she is my only grandparent and is not doing well)
👨🏼 weekly call with father, who still likes his new job
🍜 leftover stew and Mandalorian with my 👩🏼 (we live text each other). finally, a good space battle!
🎮 and 📖 to decompress along with a long hot 🚿

total: 43.64
Day 7 – Friday

🌅 I don’t think I can do this today.
🧘🏼‍♀️ It has been such a frustrating week (there was another incident that happened that I can’t even reference due to state law/FERPA) that was incredibly traumatic and draining.
📱 to best friend T. and work friend R. to ask what they would do. Both endorse me taking a day off after this wild week.
🎮 and 📖 along with some stretching. 📞 with best friend E. to catch up on her wedding prep and life
🤑 payday! Good paycheck since it’s the 3rd of the month, but it might be missing hours from club. I won’t know until I see my paystub on Monday. +2,183.48 (+50 to 457, +322.94 to pension)
💸 ah, but it’s also the 31st. easy come, easy go 🏡 (1343.38) and ⛲ (167)
🚊 to 🤸🏼‍♀️ to a really 🔥 class. Learn the name of the girl next to me on Fridays who also brings her inhaler and it turns out we’re both teachers!
🍦 take a nice mozzarella sandwich home from tatte 13.97
🚊, 🍴, 🚿, 📖, 🎮

Total: 1,524.35
Grand totals:

food & drank: 65.81
entertainment: 15.99
home & health: 10
clothes & beauty: 0
transport: 4.80
other: 1,618.49 (how I would class my house expenses)

reflection: typical week money-wise in terms of reflecting my non-house spending – I’m saving really aggressively right now and don’t have a lot of money for discretionary spending. Even if I did, I’m very much a homebody during the work week. My job is probably more stressful than most as a baseline but this week was truly unbelievably bad. Still, looking through the week and taking time to step back I realize just how quality my support network is and for that I'm very grateful.

submitted by Forsaken-Garlic4818 to MoneyDiariesACTIVE [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 11:42 Starman454642 Regarding "What if Sirius told Harry about the mirror"

Loved the 'what if', personal always wondered why Sirius never told Harry (man, it is basically a magical iPhone in the 90's!)
Only two things to add. 1: Isn't the Cruciatus Curse unblockable just like Avada Kedavra? I mean its not too big of an issue and doesn't effect the story much if it is blocked.
2: WHY DID THEY GLOSS OVER THE SURVIVAL OF MOODY!!!!! I mean Moody would be an aid yes, but Umbridge not having his eye is VERY important. The reason the Golden Trio was camping in the first place was because as they where escaping the Ministry, they accidentally shared the location of Grimmauld Place with Yaxley, rendering the group unable to live there. Yaxley was able to just catch the Trio was because Umbridge noticed the missing eye that Harry took, so she sounded the alarms. If she never had the eye, Harry world of never accidentally tiped off Umbridge, and even if Umbridge did notice Harry was in her pink dungeon, she probably wouldn't know instantly like when her door eye was missing. Even a second delay would allow for the trio to escape, allowing for them continue to live at Number 12. This means they dont have to wear the locket all the time, as they can just hide it in the house, so Ron wont leave. The Snatchers MIGHT not capture them, as for one, it is unknown how strong the fidelius charm is, and if it would break if they spoke Voldemorts name, or if they would even be in the position to say his name, as there would not be as much tension between them.
Some problems arise, as Snape would have trouble giving the Sword to Harry, but tbh because he knows of Number 12, he may just go in and drop it off before the Dumbledore trap gets him (he may even be able to convince Harry he is on his side and tell him everything at Number 12 if he gives them the Sword)
Just my take, but would love for others to build upon my theory of a theory.

submitted by Starman454642 to SuperCarlinBrothers [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 09:24 Sinpleton025 [Rifts of War] - Chapter 9

Expedition report from RG-5
Area of recon: Shore of Meilume due east of Galdush
Report carried out by Lieutenant Eric Ross
Report states: RG-5 has encountered an elven outpost on its way to the shore. The purpose of these outposts is to act as checkpoints for the Imperial army as well as to maintain surveillance within an area. The outpost encountered by RG-5 had thirty soldiers guarding it. RG-5 attempted peaceful contact, however, the elves engaged and RG-5 retaliated. All enemies have been neutralized and RG-5 has suffered no casualties and the outpost has been searched. Upon reaching the shore, RG-5 made peaceful contact with a local fishing village. They helped in local affairs, such as hunting down several feral welfen and repairing their equipment. In return, the locals gave them information on the coast south of the North Alston river. There are seven villages between the river and the Alston kingdom border and three more north of the river, which make up the fishing community of the southeast coast of the empire. The southeast coast and shore are patrolled by the Imperial third fleet with its center in the port city of Cheemo. Further information is required.
Other news: The airstrip has been finalized and drones have been sent to various locations. New findings include the official location of the river city Kuruk to the north and Imperial fort Mundus to the west. A large cluster of Imperial soldiers has been seen gathering on the opposite side of the North Alston river. Numbers count between one hundred and one hundred and fifty thousand, including auxiliary troops. No signs of any movement south of the river. Will continue to observe. The CIA has been able to establish a network in the Meilume capital and the leading agent, Edward Garcia, has confirmed that the nobility is attempting to flee the area. RG-3 is advised to speed up. As for the city itself, the population is estimated to be roughly six hundred thousand with fortifications and a force of ten thousand soldiers. No elements of any Imperial spy network have been discovered.
28th day of late yellow season, 3000th cycle
Meilume capital, Empire of light
General Laeroth's words reached the nobility of Meilume and they heed its instructions. Lord Bellon Belus rushed his family and the guard commander followed. Servants carried bags and soldiers formed a formation to escort them to Una, where they will meet with the army that will bring them to the other side of the river and then to the city of Imslone. Bellon was always a father and husband first, and lord second. Nearly two hundred thousand soldiers were slaughtered in less than a moon cycle. That was proof enough that he needed to leave the capital and save his family. Abandoning his city in the face of the enemy was an act of cowardice, often severely punished, but he would take any punishment for those he loved. He would not be like his father.
Bellon walked through the halls and double-checked every room. "Hurry up! Leave anything not of use! Leave the valuables, they are only dead weight!"
"Bellon!", a woman called him.
"Nimriel.", he said.
"Must we leave? This has been our home for cycles. And our family's home for far longer. Leaving it is-"
"It is the only way. The only way for us to live. We must, Nimriel. If we do not, the enemy will take us."
"But Bellon-"
"Think of our daughter, Nimriel. Think of Taria. What if those barbarians breach the walls? After they're done with the peasants, do you believe they will spare us? I will not allow such a thing to happen."
And speaking of the devil, Taria appeared from the corner, wearing a battle uniform with a sword sheathed on her left hip and holding a helmet in her right hand. "I am ready father."
Bellon couldn't say he was shocked too much. Since she was little she used to sneak into the courtyard and train with the guard commander. He knew and let her do what she wanted. It made her happy. But this was uncalled for.
"Stop fooling around Taria.", Bellon said, "This is a serious matter."
"Then take me seriously!", Taria responded, "The enemy is coming and I must be ready."
"You are not staying. You are coming with us to Imslone."
"I am not. I will not commit an act of cowardice and leave my post."
"Your post is beside me. I am your father!"
"I am not a little girl anymore! I have trained with Aego for over a hundred cycles! I am ready!"
"This enemy destroyed two armies and bested two generals! We stand no chance! Our only choice is to flee as far as we can and let the armies deal with them. The best we can hope to do is slow them down."
"You dare doubt our guard like that, father! These soldiers are just as strong as those of the Imperial army and our walls have held off the Rosians and ferals! We can-"
"Do you not hear me you stupid girl!", Bellon's voice boomed through the walls and made the servants and guards stop in their tracks, "I do not care for your illusions! The enemy is real! Wars are bloody and repulsive and not a place for you! You are the daughter of a lord! You are the heir to Meilume and a member of the Belus family! You will cease this foolishness at once and act accordingly!"
This was the loudest Bellon ever had to shout. He could feel his throat hurting. Taria could only feel tears falling down her cheeks as she lowered her head in shame. In truth, she just wanted to prove she was as capable as she claimed. That despite being a girl she could live in the world of men. But her dreams would have to wait. Bellon groaned and shook his head as he kept walking down the hall. Nimriel hugged her daughter and tried to reassure her everything will be alright, but her words fell on deaf ears.
As Nimriel left, someone else walked over to Taria from behind. As he placed his hand on her shoulder, Taria turned around and saw a man she thought of as her second father. "Aego.", she said through tears.
"Do not be saddened, my lady.", he said as he wiped her tears, "Your father said what he said because he cares. You are his only daughter, more valuable to him than this entire world. He only wants what is best for you. And right now, the best for you is to go to Imslone."
"B-But the enemy. What will you do?"
"I am coming with you, my lady. I left my first captain in charge. He will make sure these otherworlders bleed for this city."
Taria hugged him, still shedding tears, "Thank you Aego. Thank you."
Aego hugged her back.
---
29th of June, 2070
Since the Rift Groups programs have been initiated, soldiers all around have been eager to join. Some more than others, some less. But none were as stocked as sergeant Emma Davis. The second youngest member of RG-1, she was nicknamed 'Trigger-finger' for a reason. Great results in the shooting range, but not much else. Still, when she heard the 'Prodigy' was joining she couldn't control herself. Ever since they left for Alston, she's been clinging to Logan like a leach.
"Sir, how many people have you killed?", she asked.
"I lost count.", Logan answered.
"Sir, why have you joined the army?"
"It's a family tradition."
"Sir, have you been shot?"
"Yes."
"Sir, may I see it?"
"No."
"Sir, why did you leave the special forces?"
Logan didn't answer that one.
"Sir-"
"Emma shut up already.", Jacob said.
"Yeah, I think you're getting on the captain's nerves.", Michael said.
Staff sergeant Jacob Brown and corporal Michael Hoilman, Emma's friends since high school and pretty much the only reason she's not in jail. They've stuck by her side, being her big brothers for years, and kind of grown attached to her. It was like having a little sister.
"No I'm not.", Emma said.
"Yes you are.", Jacob said.
"You hold your captain in quite a high regard.", said Krolm, the leanoid, "Why?"
"Are you kidding me?", Emma said, "He's Logan Connors. All of Fort Bragg and the rangers know about him."
"Are rangers perhaps elites in your army?", asked Kai, the welfen.
"We're rangers.", said veteran sniper sergeant Nick Harper aka 'Bullseye', "We're a strike fast group made for quick attacks and quick action. We're not like the rest of the army that fights on the front lines. We fight in forests, towns, cities, forts, you name it. We hit fast, hard, and take care of our mission."
"Hell yeah we do!", shouted corporal Lamar Jones, the 'Heavy gunner'.
"Interesting.", said Clara, the lepian, "So that's why you have us with you. It makes sense, you don't really need us on the front lines when you got your large cannons and these armored carriages."
RG-1 wasn't just a normal group. It was the only group with sixty-six soldiers, a captain, and twice as many vehicles. This made them quite a force and that was necessary since they were being deployed to the border of Alston. After prince Bodin agreed to assist REC he chose three people who would aid him. Gregor Bachwich, son of Herwin Bachwich, the baron of the border town of Afa. He will be important in establishing first contact with the Rosians. Lieutenant Pallius Blazewing, son of Lor Blazewing, a great military figure in the Opherin army. The Opherin kingdom prides itself on great military history, having fought more battles than any Rosian kingdom or duchy in history. And finally, a youngster named Matheo Calo. There was nothing special about him besides being prince Bodin's personal squire. He's been with Bodin for years and the two became more than just prince and servant. Furthermore, Bodin promised Matheo he would bring him back to his mother in Olinor. Prince Bodin himself didn't choose to come along. His reasoning was that he wants to present himself in front of all the kings and dukes when they all gathered together. One more person did come with them. Ambassador Eugene Anderson. Together, they will establish peace. Or war.
Right now they were on their way to Afa, only several more minutes. In the LAV where the tribals were, private first-class Ethan Williams sat, writing in his journal. He was the youngest and newest addition to the group. Fresh off the academy, he graduated to be a sniper and was eager to learn from both Logan and Nick. But something kept him from them. Next to him sat Carla, who kept eyeballing him and his weapon. Ethan was nervous, he wasn't used to girls sitting near him, or even looking at him, and Carla seemed interested.
"What is this weapon?", she asked.
"O-Oh Ummm, this?", he stuttered, "This is a modified and modernized Mk22 ASR sniper rifle. I know there are older models but my granddad taught me how to use this one. It can hit a target from about twenty-two hundred yards away. In your measurements, that's four leagues."
Carla's ears went up, "Amazing! I bet I could hunt a lot of meat with it."
"Well, um. It takes a lot of skill to use it. I could show you, sometime."
"Oh?", Carla raised an eyebrow and moved closer smiling, "I think I would like that.". She purred a little which made Ethan stutter and sweat. Across from them, Lin watched with her arms crossed.
"What?", Carla asked, "Envious?"
"Not at all.", Lin said as she grabbed Lamar's arm, "I prefer strong males.". Lamar opened his mouth but couldn't say anything. He and Ethan just stared at each other.
"Before your boners brake your belts and that LAV becomes hotter than a pizza oven at Papa John's, I wanna let you know we're almost there.", said lieutenant James Wilson over the comms from the leading JLTV3, the most veteran among them, chosen to uphold discipline.
"Thank you.", said Logan.
"They seem to be getting along.", said ambassador Anderson.
"Indeed.", said Gregor, "I must say, you humans are more strange than you are frightening. The way you use words with one meaning for another. And your expressions as well. Definitely not the savages Canus described."
"I'm glad we could prove that to you. And it appears we are about to prove it to the rest of your kingdom.". They were nearly at Afa. This town serves as a fortified stronghold against the empire should they attack. Its walls were tall and thick, with bastion towers and a single entry gate. It would be difficult for the elves to take it.
"The town currently has a thousand soldiers protecting it. It's usually three thousand, but two thousand went with me through the rift. Most likely on the orders of the elves, my father would never allow it."
"Only three thousand?", James asked.
"Three thousand official soldiers, but should the need arise we can recruit militia fighters from the residents. The town itself has a population of eighty thousand."
"That's a lot of people.", Eugene said.
"Yes. Luckily, it is able to support them, even if barely. The elves aren't exactly sharing people."
"That will all change soon."
As the convoy approached the gate, a ballista javelin hit the road in front of them. The city defenders had assembled on the wall and aimed their weapons at them. While the vehicles are armored, the JLTVs have weak spots a javelin can pierce.
"Hold it!", shouted a man on the wall, presumably the commander, "Present yourselves immediately."
"I'll take care of this.", Logan said as he exited the JLTV with his hands raised, "I am Captain Logan Connors of the Rift Expeditionary Corps! We are from Galdush and have come to make peaceful relations with the kingdom of Alston!"
"Why should we listen to you!?"
"If not me, then how about someone more familiar!".
At that moment, Gregor stepped out of the JLTV3 and, to put it mildly, made the defenders' hearts skip a beat. "Commander Barion! It is good to see you!"
Barion couldn't even speak for moments. His young baron was alive. Against all odds, he made it back. "Y-Young baron!", he finally spoke, "You... You live! How!? And what are you doing with the enemy?!"
"I assure you, they are not the enemy! I will explain everything, but first, I need to ask you to open this gate and let these soldiers in!"
Barion hesitated for a moment, "B-But young ba-"
"Commander, do not make me order you!"
He immediately understood, "Open this gate immediately! Let them in! Someone inform the baron!"
The gate opened and the convoy made it in. Luckily, there was enough room to fit all of them in. Barion and his men, as well as the people, could only stare in awe at what was before them. Truly, people from another world. The commander stepped down and greeted them as well as Gregor.
"Young baron, you have a lot of explaining to do.", Barion said.
"All will be explained soon.", Gregor said.
"Gregor!", shouted a little girl as she ran towards him.
"Elora.", Gregor said as he hugged her, "My little sister. It is good to see you.". Behind her came his mother and father, who at first walked slowly with tears in their eyes, not believing it was him.
"My son.", Herwin said as he hugged Gregor, "By the heavens. You live."
"Mother. Father. I have returned. Let me introduce you to someone. This is Lord Ambassador Eugene Anderson from the land of America on the other side of the rift. He is here to represent his country and the humans."
Herwin immediately walked to him and bowed, "I am Baron Herwin Bachwich. Thank you for sparing my son's life. It is an honor to have you here, Lord Anderson."
"The honor is mine baron.", Eugene said, "I hope we will be able to discuss peace with you and your kingdom."
This confused Herwin, "Peace?"
"I have much to tell you father.", Gregor said, "The prince lives."
Completely frozen, Herwin took a few moments to process that before replying, "He lives?"
"Enemies!", shouted a soldier from the wall. Commander Barion and Logan rushed up the wall. Logan grabbed his binoculars and observed the enemy from a distance. They came from a treeline, their camp was behind it, otherwise, RG-1 would have spotted them.
"I count five hundred.", Logan said, "Various races. Elves, Rosians, ferals."
"How?", Barion asked.
"These are binoculars. They allow me to see things from a distance. Try it."
Logan handed the binoculars to Barion, who observed them for a few moments before putting them on his eyes and facing the enemy. "Incredible."
Barion handed them back but Logan refused, "Keep it, I have a spare. I get the elves, but why are your people attacking you?"
"Those bastards aren't our people. They are traitors and thieves who think the kingdom is done for. So they run to the empire and beg them for forgiveness.". He spat in disgust.
"And the elves. They don't look like the army."
"They most likely were. They call themselves rogues, those who stray from their so-called 'Path of light'. Both of these traitors sicken me."
"Then let us help you."
"Why would you help us?"
"If we're gonna be at peace with one another, we have to establish a certain level of trust, don't we?"
Barion pondered for a bit before answering, "Very well. I am eager to see the army that defeated the elves."
Nodding Logan walked to the edge of the wall and faced his men. "Jones, take your men and mount the machine guns! Davis, bring the ammo! Williams, Harper, get to higher ground and shoot anyone that looks important or a large threat! Wilson, take Green and set up the mortar! Move it, they'll be here in minutes!"
RG-1 immediately went to work. Jones and his men carried the machine guns from the trucks and mounted them on the walls, Williams and Harper climbed up the tallest tower they could find and got into position. Wilson set up the 60mm mortar in the town square.
"I think we should get to safety.", Eugene said.
"You are right.", Herwin said, "Follow me."
Logan got into position with his Mk4 SCAR chambered in 7.62mm. "Commander, I need a favor."
"What is it, captain?", Barion asked.
"If these guys fire arrows, we don't have shields to defend ourselves. You think your men can take of that?"
"Certainly. Get the shields ready! Protect their soldiers!". In moments, each ranger had a Rosian soldier behind him or her with a shield ready. It was time to fight.
The horde moved closer and closer. First, they walked and then picked up the pace as they put shields above their heads. Naturally, the ferals ran towards the wall like rabid animals. "Hold!", Logan said as he gripped his gun, "Wait for them to get closer!". There was one elf on a horse swinging his sword and giving commands. Not for long.
"It's all you kid.", Harper said as he watched Williams aim his shot.
Letting out a breath, Williams pulled the trigger and splattered the elf's brain all over the field. "Boom boom motherfucker."
"Weapons free! Light them up!", Logan shouted as the rangers opened fire on the ferals. The freaks fell by the dozens as bullets pierced their chest, heads, legs, and arms and turned them into cold, dead corpses. The mortar fired at the enemies behind them, who stopped in their tracks, clearly confused and terrified. The rangers aimed their weapons at them and started cutting them down.
"Get some, blueberries!", Davis shouted, "Come closer! I dare ya!"
The few dozen that survived retreated back to the trees. The rangers cheered, but the Rosians didn't cheer as much as they stared in awe. Now they see why the elves lost, these people are powerful.
Commander Barion walked to Logan, "Thank you for the assistance. But I doubt this is the last we have seen of them."
"I know.", Logan said, "That's why I'll have one of my guys scout those trees with a drone along with Lin and Clara.". Logan walked down to the two of them, "Scot! Get over here!"
"Coming!", Scot answered. Scot Green aka 'Mechanic', was the group's engineer. He was also their drone pilot. "Yes sir?"
"I need you to pilot the Fly into those tree lines and scout for the enemy.". The SPFD Fly was a small recon drone invented by DARPA to save both room and energy. Solar-powered and long-lasting battery, coupled with its long-range and small size made it a very useful tool to have in recon missions. "Lin, Carla, you two are also going. I need good eyes and ears over there."
"Sure thing, sir.", Lin said saluting the best she could.
"You two do know how to use a radio, right?"
"Of course we do.", Clara said, "We're not idiots."
"Good. Go.". Lin and Carla ran to the trees as Scott maneuvered the Fly.
The baron and his family, along with Ambassador Eugene walked over to the soldiers. The baron was first to speak, "That was... most impressive. But I must ask. Why peace? Surely you seem powerful enough to take the kingdoms by force."
"Because my people aren't barbarians, baron.", Anderson said, "If peace can be made, then we will do anything to make it a reality."
"I see. And the prince? What does he say about this?"
"You can ask him yourself.", Anderson said as he nodded to Logan who signaled his men to set up a desk and a large screen. "With this device, we can talk to the prince and even see him."
"Amazing.", said Herwin as he eagerly awaited to see his prince. After some preparations, the screen was ready and it turned on. The lights slightly startled the Rosians before the screen was clear and on it was prince Bodin himself. "My... My prince.", Herwin said as he knelt, "It is a miracle. You truly live."
"Baron Bachwich.", Bodin spoke, "Please, rise. I am not before you just yet. This is strange for me as well. Am I correct to assume the human soldiers have arrived?"
"Yes, my prince. They recently just helped us crush an attack from a bandit horde."
"Do you then see why I have chosen to make peace with these people?"
After a momentary pause, Herwin nodded, "I do, my prince. It is incredible to see that a nation so powerful is willing to make peace with its enemy and not subdue it."
"We are not their enemy, baron. The elves and their empire are. This is why they chose to make peace with us. They understand we are just vassals forced to fight. I suggest you hear Lord Anderson out."
As they were talking, Scot called for Logan, "Sir. I have a visual."
Logan nodded, "Alright. Commander Barion, would you like to see the enemy?"
"Yes.", Barion answered, "Show me."
Scot pulled up the video feed on his screen, "This is their camp. I count roughly three thousand. Lin and Carla confirm."
"Where are those two?", Logan asked.
"In the trees."
"Call them back and give me the radio.", Logan took the radio, "Galdush base. Come in Galdush base. This is Captain Logan Connors of Rift Group 1. Do you copy? Over."
After a few moments, the radio spoke, "Copy Rift Group 1. Sitrep. Over."
"Galdush, we have made contact with border town Afa. Upon entry, we engaged a third party, designated rogue elves, and bandit Rosians. Half a battalion attacked us but we drove them off. We confirm the enemy numbers in three thousand, various races. What's the status of our air forces? Over."
"Three air squadrons of Invictus ACs and a Boeing Stratofortress is currently being fueled and should be ready in half an hour."
"Galdush I request a tactical bombing run. The area will be marked via drone. How copy?"
The radio went silent for a few moments before speaking again, "Affirmative RG-1. Stratofortress will be up in the air as soon as possible. Make sure to mark the area. Galdush out."
"Copy that Galdush. RG-1 out."
"What was that?", Barion asked.
"You're gonna get another demonstration."
"Captain!", Carla shouted as she ran towards him. "I have eliminated an enemy scout.", she said as she extended a severed head toward Logan.
Logan smacked his lips before replying, "I see. Get rid of it."
"Yes sir.", Carla said as she tossed the head into a nearby pile of trash.
'At least she's helping', Logan thought.
---
(Two hours later)
The bandits and rogues were sitting in their tents, trying to plan an attack. The otherworlders were an unexpected problem, but hopefully a problem they could be dealt with.
"Alright, listen.", said an elf, "We'll strike at night. It didn't work last time because there were too many of them, but I reckon there can't be more than a few dozen of them."
"That doesn't matter.", said a Rosian, "I've seen what that few can do."
"You attacked with five hundred to scout their defenses. You were never supposed to win. Besides, we can use the tribals to deal with them. As we are attacking the front, they will go to the sides and strike."
"Are you sure this will work?"
"Yes. Soon, Afa will be ours."
At that moment, an elf rushed into the tent, "Sir, you must come and see this!"
They left the tent and came to the center of the tent. The one who called them pointed upwards into the sky. There they saw something flying. A wyvern? No, it was too big. Its wings didn't flap. What could it be? As it flew over them, something fell from it. Many egg-like things started falling and as they fell to the ground, they engulfed the camp in fire and shook the earth. In moments, the whole camp was on fire and everyone was either dead or dying. The ground was turned into a burning pile of scorched bodies.
If there were any doubts about the power of the otherwolders left, they were long gone now.
---
(Meanwhile)
Road to Una
The Belus family along with commander Aego and two hundred soldiers were on their way to Una. Taria did not wish to ride with her father and so she rode on a horse alongside Aego. Their hopes were that they would reach Una in several days and then cross the river.
"My lady.", Aego spoke, "Are you certain you should be riding alongside me and not in the carriage?"
"I do not wish to speak to my father.", Taria said, "At least not now."
"I assumed we cleared this matter."
"We have but... I still need time."
Aego sighed, "I understand. Still, you should not hate him for-", he stopped and halted the soldiers.
"What?"
"Something is not as it should be. This outpost is quiet.". The soldiers tensed up. They could also feel that something wasn't right. In a split second, Aego was shot by an arrow in the side.
"Ambush!", Taria yelled out. Suddenly, elves, welfen, and leanoids ran from the sides and the outpost. The soldiers prepared but found themselves overwhelmed by the enemies' numbers. Rogue elves fired arrows at them while welfen and leanoids exploited weaknesses and struck. Still, the soldiers fought hard, making sure the traitors and savages suffer. The enemy numbers were dropping, but not quickly enough. Taria used her training and cut down several rogues before crouching down to help Aego.
"Aego!", she yelled, "Aego hold on! You will live! Please!". She cried as he struggled to breathe. He grabbed her arm and pushed her to the side, just in time for her to dodge a spear from a leanoid. She watched as Aego spat blood before dying, his life leaving his body. In pure rage, she screamed and struck the leanoid in the side. Pulling out her sword she blocked a strike from a rogue, stepped closer, and headbutted him before slitting his throat.
Turning to her left she saw the rogues and tribals dragging her family. "Father!", she yelled, but couldn't help as a rogue hit her in the back of the head, knocking her down on the ground. Her blurred vision faded away as the rogue smiled down at her.
"Sweet dreams, little girl.", was what he said before she passed out completely.
End of chapter 9

---
First / Previous / Next
Thank you very much for reading.
If you'd like to support me and my work feel free to upvote, follow, and check out my Patreon where you can get access to early chapters, a private Discord server, a chance to commission, and even influence on ongoing stories (DM me for the link, please)

submitted by Sinpleton025 to redditserials [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 09:22 Sinpleton025 Rifts of War - Chapter 9

Expedition report from RG-5
Area of recon: Shore of Meilume due east of Galdush
Report carried out by Lieutenant Eric Ross
Report states: RG-5 has encountered an elven outpost on its way to the shore. The purpose of these outposts is to act as checkpoints for the Imperial army as well as to maintain surveillance within an area. The outpost encountered by RG-5 had thirty soldiers guarding it. RG-5 attempted peaceful contact, however, the elves engaged and RG-5 retaliated. All enemies have been neutralized and RG-5 has suffered no casualties and the outpost has been searched. Upon reaching the shore, RG-5 made peaceful contact with a local fishing village. They helped in local affairs, such as hunting down several feral welfen and repairing their equipment. In return, the locals gave them information on the coast south of the North Alston river. There are seven villages between the river and the Alston kingdom border and three more north of the river, which make up the fishing community of the southeast coast of the empire. The southeast coast and shore are patrolled by the Imperial third fleet with its center in the port city of Cheemo. Further information is required.
Other news: The airstrip has been finalized and drones have been sent to various locations. New findings include the official location of the river city Kuruk to the north and Imperial fort Mundus to the west. A large cluster of Imperial soldiers has been seen gathering on the opposite side of the North Alston river. Numbers count between one hundred and one hundred and fifty thousand, including auxiliary troops. No signs of any movement south of the river. Will continue to observe. The CIA has been able to establish a network in the Meilume capital and the leading agent, Edward Garcia, has confirmed that the nobility is attempting to flee the area. RG-3 is advised to speed up. As for the city itself, the population is estimated to be roughly six hundred thousand with fortifications and a force of ten thousand soldiers. No elements of any Imperial spy network have been discovered.
28th day of late yellow season, 3000th cycle
Meilume capital, Empire of light
General Laeroth's words reached the nobility of Meilume and they heed its instructions. Lord Bellon Belus rushed his family and the guard commander followed. Servants carried bags and soldiers formed a formation to escort them to Una, where they will meet with the army that will bring them to the other side of the river and then to the city of Imslone. Bellon was always a father and husband first, and lord second. Nearly two hundred thousand soldiers were slaughtered in less than a moon cycle. That was proof enough that he needed to leave the capital and save his family. Abandoning his city in the face of the enemy was an act of cowardice, often severely punished, but he would take any punishment for those he loved. He would not be like his father.
Bellon walked through the halls and double-checked every room. "Hurry up! Leave anything not of use! Leave the valuables, they are only dead weight!"
"Bellon!", a woman called him.
"Nimriel.", he said.
"Must we leave? This has been our home for cycles. And our family's home for far longer. Leaving it is-"
"It is the only way. The only way for us to live. We must, Nimriel. If we do not, the enemy will take us."
"But Bellon-"
"Think of our daughter, Nimriel. Think of Taria. What if those barbarians breach the walls? After they're done with the peasants, do you believe they will spare us? I will not allow such a thing to happen."
And speaking of the devil, Taria appeared from the corner, wearing a battle uniform with a sword sheathed on her left hip and holding a helmet in her right hand. "I am ready father."
Bellon couldn't say he was shocked too much. Since she was little she used to sneak into the courtyard and train with the guard commander. He knew and let her do what she wanted. It made her happy. But this was uncalled for.
"Stop fooling around Taria.", Bellon said, "This is a serious matter."
"Then take me seriously!", Taria responded, "The enemy is coming and I must be ready."
"You are not staying. You are coming with us to Imslone."
"I am not. I will not commit an act of cowardice and leave my post."
"Your post is beside me. I am your father!"
"I am not a little girl anymore! I have trained with Aego for over a hundred cycles! I am ready!"
"This enemy destroyed two armies and bested two generals! We stand no chance! Our only choice is to flee as far as we can and let the armies deal with them. The best we can hope to do is slow them down."
"You dare doubt our guard like that, father! These soldiers are just as strong as those of the Imperial army and our walls have held off the Rosians and ferals! We can-"
"Do you not hear me you stupid girl!", Bellon's voice boomed through the walls and made the servants and guards stop in their tracks, "I do not care for your illusions! The enemy is real! Wars are bloody and repulsive and not a place for you! You are the daughter of a lord! You are the heir to Meilume and a member of the Belus family! You will cease this foolishness at once and act accordingly!"
This was the loudest Bellon ever had to shout. He could feel his throat hurting. Taria could only feel tears falling down her cheeks as she lowered her head in shame. In truth, she just wanted to prove she was as capable as she claimed. That despite being a girl she could live in the world of men. But her dreams would have to wait. Bellon groaned and shook his head as he kept walking down the hall. Nimriel hugged her daughter and tried to reassure her everything will be alright, but her words fell on deaf ears.
As Nimriel left, someone else walked over to Taria from behind. As he placed his hand on her shoulder, Taria turned around and saw a man she thought of as her second father. "Aego.", she said through tears.
"Do not be saddened, my lady.", he said as he wiped her tears, "Your father said what he said because he cares. You are his only daughter, more valuable to him than this entire world. He only wants what is best for you. And right now, the best for you is to go to Imslone."
"B-But the enemy. What will you do?"
"I am coming with you, my lady. I left my first captain in charge. He will make sure these otherworlders bleed for this city."
Taria hugged him, still shedding tears, "Thank you Aego. Thank you."
Aego hugged her back.
---
29th of June, 2070
Since the Rift Groups programs have been initiated, soldiers all around have been eager to join. Some more than others, some less. But none were as stocked as sergeant Emma Davis. The second youngest member of RG-1, she was nicknamed 'Trigger-finger' for a reason. Great results in the shooting range, but not much else. Still, when she heard the 'Prodigy' was joining she couldn't control herself. Ever since they left for Alston, she's been clinging to Logan like a leach.
"Sir, how many people have you killed?", she asked.
"I lost count.", Logan answered.
"Sir, why have you joined the army?"
"It's a family tradition."
"Sir, have you been shot?"
"Yes."
"Sir, may I see it?"
"No."
"Sir, why did you leave the special forces?"
Logan didn't answer that one.
"Sir-"
"Emma shut up already.", Jacob said.
"Yeah, I think you're getting on the captain's nerves.", Michael said.
Staff sergeant Jacob Brown and corporal Michael Hoilman, Emma's friends since high school and pretty much the only reason she's not in jail. They've stuck by her side, being her big brothers for years, and kind of grown attached to her. It was like having a little sister.
"No I'm not.", Emma said.
"Yes you are.", Jacob said.
"You hold your captain in quite a high regard.", said Krolm, the leanoid, "Why?"
"Are you kidding me?", Emma said, "He's Logan Connors. All of Fort Bragg and the rangers know about him."
"Are rangers perhaps elites in your army?", asked Kai, the welfen.
"We're rangers.", said veteran sniper sergeant Nick Harper aka 'Bullseye', "We're a strike fast group made for quick attacks and quick action. We're not like the rest of the army that fights on the front lines. We fight in forests, towns, cities, forts, you name it. We hit fast, hard, and take care of our mission."
"Hell yeah we do!", shouted corporal Lamar Jones, the 'Heavy gunner'.
"Interesting.", said Clara, the lepian, "So that's why you have us with you. It makes sense, you don't really need us on the front lines when you got your large cannons and these armored carriages."
RG-1 wasn't just a normal group. It was the only group with sixty-six soldiers, a captain, and twice as many vehicles. This made them quite a force and that was necessary since they were being deployed to the border of Alston. After prince Bodin agreed to assist REC he chose three people who would aid him. Gregor Bachwich, son of Herwin Bachwich, the baron of the border town of Afa. He will be important in establishing first contact with the Rosians. Lieutenant Pallius Blazewing, son of Lor Blazewing, a great military figure in the Opherin army. The Opherin kingdom prides itself on great military history, having fought more battles than any Rosian kingdom or duchy in history. And finally, a youngster named Matheo Calo. There was nothing special about him besides being prince Bodin's personal squire. He's been with Bodin for years and the two became more than just prince and servant. Furthermore, Bodin promised Matheo he would bring him back to his mother in Olinor. Prince Bodin himself didn't choose to come along. His reasoning was that he wants to present himself in front of all the kings and dukes when they all gathered together. One more person did come with them. Ambassador Eugene Anderson. Together, they will establish peace. Or war.
Right now they were on their way to Afa, only several more minutes. In the LAV where the tribals were, private first-class Ethan Williams sat, writing in his journal. He was the youngest and newest addition to the group. Fresh off the academy, he graduated to be a sniper and was eager to learn from both Logan and Nick. But something kept him from them. Next to him sat Carla, who kept eyeballing him and his weapon. Ethan was nervous, he wasn't used to girls sitting near him, or even looking at him, and Carla seemed interested.
"What is this weapon?", she asked.
"O-Oh Ummm, this?", he stuttered, "This is a modified and modernized Mk22 ASR sniper rifle. I know there are older models but my granddad taught me how to use this one. It can hit a target from about twenty-two hundred yards away. In your measurements, that's four leagues."
Carla's ears went up, "Amazing! I bet I could hunt a lot of meat with it."
"Well, um. It takes a lot of skill to use it. I could show you, sometime."
"Oh?", Carla raised an eyebrow and moved closer smiling, "I think I would like that.". She purred a little which made Ethan stutter and sweat. Across from them, Lin watched with her arms crossed.
"What?", Carla asked, "Envious?"
"Not at all.", Lin said as she grabbed Lamar's arm, "I prefer strong males.". Lamar opened his mouth but couldn't say anything. He and Ethan just stared at each other.
"Before your boners brake your belts and that LAV becomes hotter than a pizza oven at Papa John's, I wanna let you know we're almost there.", said lieutenant James Wilson over the comms from the leading JLTV3, the most veteran among them, chosen to uphold discipline.
"Thank you.", said Logan.
"They seem to be getting along.", said ambassador Anderson.
"Indeed.", said Gregor, "I must say, you humans are more strange than you are frightening. The way you use words with one meaning for another. And your expressions as well. Definitely not the savages Canus described."
"I'm glad we could prove that to you. And it appears we are about to prove it to the rest of your kingdom.". They were nearly at Afa. This town serves as a fortified stronghold against the empire should they attack. Its walls were tall and thick, with bastion towers and a single entry gate. It would be difficult for the elves to take it.
"The town currently has a thousand soldiers protecting it. It's usually three thousand, but two thousand went with me through the rift. Most likely on the orders of the elves, my father would never allow it."
"Only three thousand?", James asked.
"Three thousand official soldiers, but should the need arise we can recruit militia fighters from the residents. The town itself has a population of eighty thousand."
"That's a lot of people.", Eugene said.
"Yes. Luckily, it is able to support them, even if barely. The elves aren't exactly sharing people."
"That will all change soon."
As the convoy approached the gate, a ballista javelin hit the road in front of them. The city defenders had assembled on the wall and aimed their weapons at them. While the vehicles are armored, the JLTVs have weak spots a javelin can pierce.
"Hold it!", shouted a man on the wall, presumably the commander, "Present yourselves immediately."
"I'll take care of this.", Logan said as he exited the JLTV with his hands raised, "I am Captain Logan Connors of the Rift Expeditionary Corps! We are from Galdush and have come to make peaceful relations with the kingdom of Alston!"
"Why should we listen to you!?"
"If not me, then how about someone more familiar!".
At that moment, Gregor stepped out of the JLTV3 and, to put it mildly, made the defenders' hearts skip a beat. "Commander Barion! It is good to see you!"
Barion couldn't even speak for moments. His young baron was alive. Against all odds, he made it back. "Y-Young baron!", he finally spoke, "You... You live! How!? And what are you doing with the enemy?!"
"I assure you, they are not the enemy! I will explain everything, but first, I need to ask you to open this gate and let these soldiers in!"
Barion hesitated for a moment, "B-But young ba-"
"Commander, do not make me order you!"
He immediately understood, "Open this gate immediately! Let them in! Someone inform the baron!"
The gate opened and the convoy made it in. Luckily, there was enough room to fit all of them in. Barion and his men, as well as the people, could only stare in awe at what was before them. Truly, people from another world. The commander stepped down and greeted them as well as Gregor.
"Young baron, you have a lot of explaining to do.", Barion said.
"All will be explained soon.", Gregor said.
"Gregor!", shouted a little girl as she ran towards him.
"Elora.", Gregor said as he hugged her, "My little sister. It is good to see you.". Behind her came his mother and father, who at first walked slowly with tears in their eyes, not believing it was him.
"My son.", Herwin said as he hugged Gregor, "By the heavens. You live."
"Mother. Father. I have returned. Let me introduce you to someone. This is Lord Ambassador Eugene Anderson from the land of America on the other side of the rift. He is here to represent his country and the humans."
Herwin immediately walked to him and bowed, "I am Baron Herwin Bachwich. Thank you for sparing my son's life. It is an honor to have you here, Lord Anderson."
"The honor is mine baron.", Eugene said, "I hope we will be able to discuss peace with you and your kingdom."
This confused Herwin, "Peace?"
"I have much to tell you father.", Gregor said, "The prince lives."
Completely frozen, Herwin took a few moments to process that before replying, "He lives?"
"Enemies!", shouted a soldier from the wall. Commander Barion and Logan rushed up the wall. Logan grabbed his binoculars and observed the enemy from a distance. They came from a treeline, their camp was behind it, otherwise, RG-1 would have spotted them.
"I count five hundred.", Logan said, "Various races. Elves, Rosians, ferals."
"How?", Barion asked.
"These are binoculars. They allow me to see things from a distance. Try it."
Logan handed the binoculars to Barion, who observed them for a few moments before putting them on his eyes and facing the enemy. "Incredible."
Barion handed them back but Logan refused, "Keep it, I have a spare. I get the elves, but why are your people attacking you?"
"Those bastards aren't our people. They are traitors and thieves who think the kingdom is done for. So they run to the empire and beg them for forgiveness.". He spat in disgust.
"And the elves. They don't look like the army."
"They most likely were. They call themselves rogues, those who stray from their so-called 'Path of light'. Both of these traitors sicken me."
"Then let us help you."
"Why would you help us?"
"If we're gonna be at peace with one another, we have to establish a certain level of trust, don't we?"
Barion pondered for a bit before answering, "Very well. I am eager to see the army that defeated the elves."
Nodding Logan walked to the edge of the wall and faced his men. "Jones, take your men and mount the machine guns! Davis, bring the ammo! Williams, Harper, get to higher ground and shoot anyone that looks important or a large threat! Wilson, take Green and set up the mortar! Move it, they'll be here in minutes!"
RG-1 immediately went to work. Jones and his men carried the machine guns from the trucks and mounted them on the walls, Williams and Harper climbed up the tallest tower they could find and got into position. Wilson set up the 60mm mortar in the town square.
"I think we should get to safety.", Eugene said.
"You are right.", Herwin said, "Follow me."
Logan got into position with his Mk4 SCAR chambered in 7.62mm. "Commander, I need a favor."
"What is it, captain?", Barion asked.
"If these guys fire arrows, we don't have shields to defend ourselves. You think your men can take of that?"
"Certainly. Get the shields ready! Protect their soldiers!". In moments, each ranger had a Rosian soldier behind him or her with a shield ready. It was time to fight.
The horde moved closer and closer. First, they walked and then picked up the pace as they put shields above their heads. Naturally, the ferals ran towards the wall like rabid animals. "Hold!", Logan said as he gripped his gun, "Wait for them to get closer!". There was one elf on a horse swinging his sword and giving commands. Not for long.
"It's all you kid.", Harper said as he watched Williams aim his shot.
Letting out a breath, Williams pulled the trigger and splattered the elf's brain all over the field. "Boom boom motherfucker."
"Weapons free! Light them up!", Logan shouted as the rangers opened fire on the ferals. The freaks fell by the dozens as bullets pierced their chest, heads, legs, and arms and turned them into cold, dead corpses. The mortar fired at the enemies behind them, who stopped in their tracks, clearly confused and terrified. The rangers aimed their weapons at them and started cutting them down.
"Get some, blueberries!", Davis shouted, "Come closer! I dare ya!"
The few dozen that survived retreated back to the trees. The rangers cheered, but the Rosians didn't cheer as much as they stared in awe. Now they see why the elves lost, these people are powerful.
Commander Barion walked to Logan, "Thank you for the assistance. But I doubt this is the last we have seen of them."
"I know.", Logan said, "That's why I'll have one of my guys scout those trees with a drone along with Lin and Clara.". Logan walked down to the two of them, "Scot! Get over here!"
"Coming!", Scot answered. Scot Green aka 'Mechanic', was the group's engineer. He was also their drone pilot. "Yes sir?"
"I need you to pilot the Fly into those tree lines and scout for the enemy.". The SPFD Fly was a small recon drone invented by DARPA to save both room and energy. Solar-powered and long-lasting battery, coupled with its long-range and small size made it a very useful tool to have in recon missions. "Lin, Carla, you two are also going. I need good eyes and ears over there."
"Sure thing, sir.", Lin said saluting the best she could.
"You two do know how to use a radio, right?"
"Of course we do.", Clara said, "We're not idiots."
"Good. Go.". Lin and Carla ran to the trees as Scott maneuvered the Fly.
The baron and his family, along with Ambassador Eugene walked over to the soldiers. The baron was first to speak, "That was... most impressive. But I must ask. Why peace? Surely you seem powerful enough to take the kingdoms by force."
"Because my people aren't barbarians, baron.", Anderson said, "If peace can be made, then we will do anything to make it a reality."
"I see. And the prince? What does he say about this?"
"You can ask him yourself.", Anderson said as he nodded to Logan who signaled his men to set up a desk and a large screen. "With this device, we can talk to the prince and even see him."
"Amazing.", said Herwin as he eagerly awaited to see his prince. After some preparations, the screen was ready and it turned on. The lights slightly startled the Rosians before the screen was clear and on it was prince Bodin himself. "My... My prince.", Herwin said as he knelt, "It is a miracle. You truly live."
"Baron Bachwich.", Bodin spoke, "Please, rise. I am not before you just yet. This is strange for me as well. Am I correct to assume the human soldiers have arrived?"
"Yes, my prince. They recently just helped us crush an attack from a bandit horde."
"Do you then see why I have chosen to make peace with these people?"
After a momentary pause, Herwin nodded, "I do, my prince. It is incredible to see that a nation so powerful is willing to make peace with its enemy and not subdue it."
"We are not their enemy, baron. The elves and their empire are. This is why they chose to make peace with us. They understand we are just vassals forced to fight. I suggest you hear Lord Anderson out."
As they were talking, Scot called for Logan, "Sir. I have a visual."
Logan nodded, "Alright. Commander Barion, would you like to see the enemy?"
"Yes.", Barion answered, "Show me."
Scot pulled up the video feed on his screen, "This is their camp. I count roughly three thousand. Lin and Carla confirm."
"Where are those two?", Logan asked.
"In the trees."
"Call them back and give me the radio.", Logan took the radio, "Galdush base. Come in Galdush base. This is Captain Logan Connors of Rift Group 1. Do you copy? Over."
After a few moments, the radio spoke, "Copy Rift Group 1. Sitrep. Over."
"Galdush, we have made contact with border town Afa. Upon entry, we engaged a third party, designated rogue elves, and bandit Rosians. Half a battalion attacked us but we drove them off. We confirm the enemy numbers in three thousand, various races. What's the status of our air forces? Over."
"Three air squadrons of Invictus ACs and a Boeing Stratofortress is currently being fueled and should be ready in half an hour."
"Galdush I request a tactical bombing run. The area will be marked via drone. How copy?"
The radio went silent for a few moments before speaking again, "Affirmative RG-1. Stratofortress will be up in the air as soon as possible. Make sure to mark the area. Galdush out."
"Copy that Galdush. RG-1 out."
"What was that?", Barion asked.
"You're gonna get another demonstration."
"Captain!", Carla shouted as she ran towards him. "I have eliminated an enemy scout.", she said as she extended a severed head toward Logan.
Logan smacked his lips before replying, "I see. Get rid of it."
"Yes sir.", Carla said as she tossed the head into a nearby pile of trash.
'At least she's helping', Logan thought.
---
(Two hours later)
The bandits and rogues were sitting in their tents, trying to plan an attack. The otherworlders were an unexpected problem, but hopefully a problem they could be dealt with.
"Alright, listen.", said an elf, "We'll strike at night. It didn't work last time because there were too many of them, but I reckon there can't be more than a few dozen of them."
"That doesn't matter.", said a Rosian, "I've seen what that few can do."
"You attacked with five hundred to scout their defenses. You were never supposed to win. Besides, we can use the tribals to deal with them. As we are attacking the front, they will go to the sides and strike."
"Are you sure this will work?"
"Yes. Soon, Afa will be ours."
At that moment, an elf rushed into the tent, "Sir, you must come and see this!"
They left the tent and came to the center of the tent. The one who called them pointed upwards into the sky. There they saw something flying. A wyvern? No, it was too big. Its wings didn't flap. What could it be? As it flew over them, something fell from it. Many egg-like things started falling and as they fell to the ground, they engulfed the camp in fire and shook the earth. In moments, the whole camp was on fire and everyone was either dead or dying. The ground was turned into a burning pile of scorched bodies.
If there were any doubts about the power of the otherwolders left, they were long gone now.
---
(Meanwhile)
Road to Una
The Belus family along with commander Aego and two hundred soldiers were on their way to Una. Taria did not wish to ride with her father and so she rode on a horse alongside Aego. Their hopes were that they would reach Una in several days and then cross the river.
"My lady.", Aego spoke, "Are you certain you should be riding alongside me and not in the carriage?"
"I do not wish to speak to my father.", Taria said, "At least not now."
"I assumed we cleared this matter."
"We have but... I still need time."
Aego sighed, "I understand. Still, you should not hate him for-", he stopped and halted the soldiers.
"What?"
"Something is not as it should be. This outpost is quiet.". The soldiers tensed up. They could also feel that something wasn't right. In a split second, Aego was shot by an arrow in the side.
"Ambush!", Taria yelled out. Suddenly, elves, welfen, and leanoids ran from the sides and the outpost. The soldiers prepared but found themselves overwhelmed by the enemies' numbers. Rogue elves fired arrows at them while welfen and leanoids exploited weaknesses and struck. Still, the soldiers fought hard, making sure the traitors and savages suffer. The enemy numbers were dropping, but not quickly enough. Taria used her training and cut down several rogues before crouching down to help Aego.
"Aego!", she yelled, "Aego hold on! You will live! Please!". She cried as he struggled to breathe. He grabbed her arm and pushed her to the side, just in time for her to dodge a spear from a leanoid. She watched as Aego spat blood before dying, his life leaving his body. In pure rage, she screamed and struck the leanoid in the side. Pulling out her sword she blocked a strike from a rogue, stepped closer, and headbutted him before slitting his throat.
Turning to her left she saw the rogues and tribals dragging her family. "Father!", she yelled, but couldn't help as a rogue hit her in the back of the head, knocking her down on the ground. Her blurred vision faded away as the rogue smiled down at her.
"Sweet dreams, little girl.", was what he said before she passed out completely.
End of chapter 9

---
First /Previous / Next
Thank you very much for reading
If you'd like to support me and my work feel free to upvote, follow, and check out my Patreon where you can get access to early chapters, a private Discord server, a chance to commission, and even influence on ongoing stories: patreon.com/SimpleWrites

submitted by Sinpleton025 to HFY [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 09:20 Lem0n_Lord Displacement - Azur Lane

I decided to go through with it, and finished my first chapter. I've posted it on AO3 'n stuff, figured I'd put it here anyway. I also wanna preface the chapter by briefly saying what it's about to avoid (some) confusion.
"Displacement" is a line of self-insert fanfics I'm writing where a random person get's "Displaced" into the universe of the series it's based on. There's no lore to the teleporting, but the teleporting does happen more than once, and it happens at often crucial times to put the character into a new scenario.
Any text with italics without " " will be the thoughts of the MC, which I'll constantly just be referring to as "you". I really should start writing in 3rd person, but right now I'm stuck in a horrible loop where I keep writing in a mix.
I preface each chapter by putting lyrics from the song it's named after, which are emboldened and put in italics.

Chapter 1 - Dead On Arrival
As dawn arrives, we still survive.
Nobody knows what's goin' on, Tearin' my town limb by limb.
Where are your mom and dad..?
Was it shocking for you?
Somethin is scaring you?
Enemies will hunt you, no matter what you do!
But we'll fight for you, to defeat them all.

If not, there's no way out.

What in the hell just happened?
You'd landed on your hands, which ached immensely from the poor angle you somehow fell from. In absolute confusion, you flipped onto your back and used your elbows as supports to lean on, looking upwards.
Above you was but a regular ceiling with lights, nothing out of the ordinary. It seems you had fallen through the ground by some contrivance and into an archaic office of sorts.
There was a total lack of memory from anything that had transpired both leading up to the events that had just occurred, and even some memories predating that.
Such simple things such as your name were somehow eluding you. Questions of who you were rebounded in your head over and over like an echo-chamber filled with nothing.
As your thoughts spiraled, you had a splitting headache. A pained groan escaped your lips as you stood up in defiance. You looked around the room, trying to assess your situation the best you could.
Multiple red banners fit with black Iron Crosses decorated the walls.
An underlying sense of dread built up as you continued exploring the room in search for answers. You approached curtains behind the desk, they seemed relatively well cleaned. With a gentle tug, you pulled them back.
Lying beyond the curtains was a view you thought you'd never see.
Just where in the hell am I?
Looking down from the window, you could see huge warships docked at a port. Some people down below, the size of pinpricks, were walking along the concrete ground. More crimson banners littered the streets away from the docks.
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no..." You whispered to yourself, backing away from the glass.
In an attempt to find out where you were, you flew open the desk drawers. Paper flew like confetti as you looked for answers.
A date eventually stood out to you.
"1-1941?!" You said out loud, dumbfounded.
You continued sifting through the pages in denial, finding the very same date over and over again. After a while, you were surrounded by a sea of white sheets each imprinted with evidence of the impossible.
The drawers all lay empty with nothing more to prove.
You looked towards the multiple banners in the room and silently cursed.
Where the fuck am I? In the Führer's office?
Two doors were present in the room. One opposite the desk, and another to your right.
Testing your luck, you opened the one opposite where you currently were.
It was in the middle of a clean carpeted hallway. The walls were an ivory white, while the carpet was a bleeding vibrant red. Even more banners littered the walls.
This was no time to just start wandering around the Reichstag.
Well... Did Hitler live in the Reichstag? Was this the equivalent? The Reichstag was never built so close to the sea, let alone having a view right over a German port...
A figure turned the corner from down the hall, which you quickly noticed. After silently closing the door, you quietly opened the 2nd.
It was a relatively well kept bedroom with an unidentified blonde woman sleeping on the bed. On the bed-side table was an officers cap fitted with a rising golden eagle alongside a red and white band.
A window view facing the sea was left open; letting in a cooling breeze drift into the room.
An idea struck your mind.
If I'm were going to escape this place alive, I'm gonna need some kind of disguise. Atleast, something other than a T-shirt and shorts.
You could only imagine what they'd do to you if they'd found some random person in what you thought was the Führer's quarters.
As silently as was humanly possible, you crept up to the wardrobe.
You thought "What woman was high-ranking during World War 2? ".
Perhaps the woman sleeping was Hitlers wife or something?
The closet responded to your touch with a high pitched squeak. Despite it being an inanimate object, you motioned for it to shut up with your hand. Your head spun around to see if the woman had woken up.
She did not.
With a silent thank you to god, you looked inside for some kind of uniform. What you instead found was... Womens' apparel?
You reached further in and looked deeper. There was no men's uniforms, which was quite surprising. Further scanning the wardrobe, you came across what appeared to be her undergarments.
You would've slammed the door shut, but the sound of the woman behind you snoring left a constant reminder that there was a SLIGHT element of danger.
Instead of risking it making another creaking sound, you left it open and left the room with a blush. You dove back into the marked papers and read them more thoroughly. Mentions of... Ship girls? Wisdom cubes?
No, no, no, that can't be right.
Standing back up, you struggled to formulate any kind of plan.
If you were going to survive, you'd need a weapon. Surely you could kill one with a surprise attack, then take his gun, and perhaps find a way out of here.
...
The closest thing resembling a weapon was a pen on the table.
Yep, that's fine, I'll just John Wick them...
You huffed and sat down on the more throne-like chair. It was quite comfortable, but it didn't spin like an office chair. It'd be 35 years before office chairs would be invented unfortunately.
The pen wasn't a ballpoint such as the ones you were used to; instead it was a dip pen. A half empty inkwell laid next to it. Out of boredom, you opened it. The smell of ink wafted out of the glass container.
Didn't they have fountain pens by now? Weird.
Your eyes were drawn to a map on the wall to the right of you. It depicted a slightly distorted version of the world you once called home. If you were uneducated, it wouldn't be unfeasible to identify it as the real thing. Perhaps even interchangeable should you be intoxicated enough, there were only slight discrepancies which broke the illusion.
You shook your head in disbelief. Either you were truly out of your depth or what you thought were the Nazi's were just pitifully incompetent.
At that point, it felt like you were in one of those TV pranks. You started probing the room for cameras or hidden microphones. With one glance at the open doorway, you immediate ignored it and continued the search elsewhere.
With a sigh, you surveyed the room one last time while leaning in a corner.
This couldn't be some sort of prank or something. Nobody would spend all of this money just to get a reaction from someone.
Your eyes traced the boundaries of the window.
Especially with all of those battleships and the like. God, the steel alone would cost millions...
The door leading to the bedroom slammed shut due to the wind from the open window.
You snapped your neck around to look at it, terror and trepidation coiled around your soul like a knot. Well... Now that's just great, isn't it?
The noise was so loud, you unconsciously held your ears in reaction to it.
You ran towards the window behind the desk and tried to get it open. There was no handle or any sort of way to open the window unfortunately.
Panic rushed through your body as you heard rapid footsteps approaching from the hallway on the other side of the wall. Grabbing the pen, you dashed over to get yourself in a good position to stab whoever was going to enter.
By the time I kill the first guard, I'll easily be able to deal with the girl in the other room. Shouldn't be too difficult as long as I land this blow.
Eventually, a figure opened the doors.
"Bisma-"
The pen somehow deflected off of her head, even though you used all of your strength.
"Eh? "
A dumbfounded look was imprinted onto your face, and she returned the expression.
Both of you stared at each other awkwardly, both of your minds were trying to assess the situation. She had a skirt that was a mixture of a brilliant red and foggy grey. Despite the look on her face, she had quite an imposing stature. Alongside her flat chest were golden buttons fitted to the exterior; 8 in total.
The pen tip was completely bent and disfigured, unlike the persons face you'd just attempted stabbing. There wasn't a single scratch or mark from your inept strike.
You crept around the stunned girl and into the hall, almost tripping on your own feet. As you backed up, she turned around and apprehensively pointed at you.
"You! What do you think you're do-" She was interrupted by the door to the bedroom being burst open.
"That man! Hipper! Detain him at once!" A tall half-dressed blonde ordered from the doorway.
You started backing away, you knew you had to run but it almost felt like you'd forgotten how to.
The inimical woman in front of you was poised to lunge at you, but her eyes gazed at something beyond you. Eventually you had backed up into something warm.
With a gulp, you slowly turned around.
You were face to face with, yet, another female.
Why were they all women? It's only 1941, surely they're not being pushed on all fronts?
An Iron Cross adorned her neck along with two more embroidered onto the wrist section of her clothing. Instead of blonde, her hair was a chalky white that was tied up in twin tails. Something else you noticed is that they all had thigh-highs on.
"Eugen, I order you to capture that spy!"
"Whatever you say, sis~" Eugen replied with a teasing grin.
"This is a huge misunderstanding! If you'll just let me-" You squealed shortly before being picked up by your shoulders. Her strength was extremely surprising to say the least. You attempted to maneuver yourself out of her grasp, but had no such luck.
Eugen effortlessly tossed you like a speeding missile down the hall and through a door labeled "Canteen".
"Why did you- EUGH! YOU ALWAYS DO THIS!" A irked Hipper scolded before giving chase.
"Oops~ " Eugen giggled with content, following with a gait of elegance.
The blonde put on her cap, and finished getting dressed before rushing in the opposite direction.
...
You'd just breached the doors of the cafeteria, landing on your shoulder and tumbling into the floorboards. You released a loud groan of agony as you made a clumsy uncoordinated attempt of rising to your feet.
Your mind was briefly rendered into tomato soup for a good few seconds before you regained your bearings.
How the hell did she just whizz me around like that? And how did that other girl just completely ignore my strike? What in the name of Christ is going on here..?
As you finally stood on two feet, one of your hands instinctively reached for your shoulder. It really felt like you broke something, but you knew that if you really had broken something, you'd probably be on the floor crying.
"Who is that?"
Your eyes widened as you realized you were in a room full of women draped in all kinds of modified Kriegsmarine uniforms. Some of them forewent their uniforms entirely, wearing skimpy, very revealing clothing for god knows why.
They were of all shapes and sizes. Though, putting it like that makes it sound like they're abnormal godless creatures.
It wasn't too far from the truth, some of them had what seemed to be horns. A good number of them also looked like children.
You struggled to get some words out in a very poor attempt of deception.
"I-I, uh... Für den Kaiser? " You stuttered in a horrible German accent. Everyone was silent. "No? Too early? Damn..."
A feminine voice crackled in from the P.A system, a ringing alarm repeatedly blared.
"Intruder alert! Spy in the base! Prevent him from leaving at all costs!"
Chatter erupted all over the room.
"There's a spy in the base?" Someone repeated.
Only fragments of conversations were intelligible from the mess of different voices and German. The talking slowly died down until the room was in absolute silence. Every single one of them were staring at you.
Your eyes went from face to face, they were innumerable.
You immediately turned you back on them and began your great escape.
It started with a thundering of rushing and mangled cries of "Get him!" and other variations of apprehensive phrases. Multiple lunch trays clattered to the floor. The flat blonde you'd met before burst through the doors, using her arms in an X fashion as a brace.
Hipper didn't see you slip out of her way and slink back into the hallway before continuing into a sprint.
"W-where did he go?" She sputtered in a blunder. Her breath was raggedy and frequent.
They all pointed behind her, some of them started running towards her which prompted an annoyed groan from Hipper, who began to give chase to the human.
...
A look of steely determination was imprinted onto your face as you ran with all of your might. Crimson banners, vanilla wallpaper, and the wall-lamps all whizzed by in a amalgamated blur.
You looked behind you to see how much a lead you had.
They were gaining, Hipper was still leading the charge. In a panic, you hurriedly chose a random door flying by.
Eenie, meenie, miney, mo!
You braced and charged through the wooden pair of doors. What you saw in that room was interesting to say the least.
Yet another woman was sitting on some sort of throne. The masonry itself was crumbled at the edges, armrests draped in light amethyst hair.
The woman herself was crossing her legs with her hands joined in her lap. Behind her was a large cathedral-like window showering the room with light, unveiling the darkness. Unlit wax candles ran along the walls with two golden chandeliers hanging above.
She cocked her head slightly to the right, intrigued by your form. Her presence alone sent chills up your spine. Something about her gave off an incredibly ominous vibe.
As you stood there, stunned, the girls behind you had finally caught up. But instead of entering the room and apprehending you with shouts and whatnot, they were quietly gossiping behind closed doors.
"... Think he'll come out alive?"
"August is scary!"
"Quiet, morons!" Hipper hushed them with a quick strike to their foreheads. Muffled whimpers of pain came from the other side of the wall while the figure in front of you stared you down.
There was a profuse silence that was eventually broken by the woman speaking to you.
"It seems you're this Spy. "
She spoke with an air of sophistication and superiority. More silence followed before being broken up yet again. with a sigh she stood up, albeit slowly.
"I must admit, you caught me off guard. "
You watched in a combination of wonder and horror as a mass of azure cubes passed through the floor and walls, amassing themselves into a metal dragon. Instead of wings, it had half of a deck of an aircraft carrier on each wing.
"Your bravery is worthy of admiration, although whether it is folly or valor..." The dragon took a thunderous step towards you, turrets on the deck seemed to be locked onto your head. "I shall decide."
Each of the steps towards you made you flinch.
"You... Want me... To fight... That?" You said while backing up against the door. "What in the name of Christ..? "
What kind of world was this? A world where dragons just... Exist? A world where someone can just pick you up and hurl you without any effort?
This was but another wake-up call to where you had been thrown into.
"Will you falter in the face of such trials?" She ignored your very obvious indirect plea for mercy.
Your hands wrapped around the knob of the door and turned it violently. The door did not open. In a desperate escape attempt, you rammed your shoulder into it repeatedly to no avail.
Seeing how it wasn't working, you backed up towards the dragon and prepared to ram the door down one last time with all of your might.
"Have you given up already?" The woman sneered, a hint of disappointment rang in her voice.
You ran at the door and made one poor excuse of a dropkick while closing your eyes.
...
It felt... Warm. Your body impacted the ground without ever hitting anything with your feet.
For the second time that day, you were dropped onto the floor. Hard.
You let out an exasperated gasp after opening your eyes. Sunlight hit your body from above, no longer held back by a structure.
You were now in a street, occasionally people would pass by. Some looked on with concern, but without the courage to assist. Wooden buildings lined the busy streets, the archaic stone pathway was littered with the tapping of footsteps.
It was just like when you had first arrived here. Though this time, you remembered.
With a silent thank you to whatever deity might've saved you, you stood up with a grin.
Elsewhere...
"Where did he go?!"
"I'm afraid that's not something I know."
"B-but... How?! He can't just vanish! Unless..."
Hipper scratched her chin, her right eye twitching in increasing frustration.
"He must be a submarine! He might have some... Some sort of camouflage! Yes, that must be it!" She whipped around to the crowd of startled onlookers. "Scour the base! I want no stone unturned! Every cabinet, wardrobe and desk!"
Most of the ships saluted with a coordinated "Jawohl!" before dispersing in different directions. Some merely nodded in a sultry state, upset that their lunch had been ruined.
The ones remaining infront of her were none other than Bismarck and Prinz Eugen.
"I just got my rigging on too! Damn him!" Admiral Hipper raised her shaking fist to the sky in rage.
"I'm sure you'll get him next time~" Eugen jokingly assured Hipper, slinging her arm around her sisters neck.
Already teetering on the edge of rage, she had an outburst.
"IT'S YOUR FAULT ANYWAY!" She flew Eugens arm off her shoulder. "I-if you didn't toss him like you did, we could've easily-"
"Eugen, don't go overboard on your games. What is done is done, though do expect to hear from me in the coming days."
Eugen let out a "Hmpf. " and walked away.
Bismarck approached Hipper with a serious gaze. She immediately got the message and composed herself, straightening her posture.
"I believe you were closest to him. Can you describe his face? Eye color, or anything of the sort?"
Admiral Hipper profusely nodded.
"Good."

And that ends the first chapter. As you can probably tell, I'm a novice writer, and most of you are probably twice my age. (Surprisingly, most of you seem to be above the age of 20.) I'm also very new to the fandom, and am looking to improve my writing of dialogue and vast amount of personalities (most of which are tropes), and I'm quite afraid I wrote August/Eugen wrong.
I also have a few questions for any hard-core Azur Lane fans that I'd appreciate if you could answer:
1: Is the German language just called "Ironblood"? Is Japanese called "Sakura" or something? 2: Does the game or anime happen first? Or, are they in separate timelines? I haven't seen Crosswave myself, so I don't know. I was going to follow the events of the anime, then maybe into the game, then into Slow Ahead.
3: (most important one) Are men just... Really rare? Is there a reason why all the ships are females, or why we never see any men, anywhere?
If you've somehow read all of this, thank you, I appreciate people reading my work. Cheers from Australia.

submitted by Lem0n_Lord to AzureLane [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 08:24 StepwiseUndrape574 GTA 6 Leak Has Fans In A Frenzy For Rockstar’s Next Monster Game Title

So far, Rockstar Games has been rather tight-lipped about its upcoming addition to the Grand Theft Auto series with GTA 6. However, that could be changing soon, based on recent speculation and potential leaks from YouTuber SanInPlay, who previously correctly predicted information about GTA 6’s female protagonist.
In September, GTA 6 gameplay footage leaked online, sending the internet into a frenzy over what was not previously known. That footage quickly spread, being torn down by Rockstar and then popping back up on another site just as quickly. At that time, we expected that Rockstar might leverage the new found excitement about GTA 6, and announce the game properly or even drop a trailer. However, this was not to be, as Rockstar remained silently plugging away.
SanInPlay twitter trailer content leak
As we go into 2023, we expect some GTA 6 news to come out, and we might get it sooner rather than later. YouTuber SanInPlay originally reported that one of the playable protagonists of GTA 6 would be a Latina named Lucia, over a month before we had any information from the leaks. More recently, SanInPlay has claimed that there might be a trailer with a few specific beats, including planes passing overhead, dogs playing, and Lucia in prison exercising, among other details.
SanInPlay twitter Lucia content leak
Of course, this could all be proven wrong by Rockstar in the coming weeks, though prior leaks would suggest otherwise. However, Rockstar could also recut and tweak their trailer if they have one waiting in the wings, should they want to discredit SanInPlay, so future leaks get less coverage. Either way, we will have to wait and see what happens in the coming weeks, because if there is speculation such as this, something of real substance might be coming soon. Where there's smoke there's fire most times, as they say.

submitted by StepwiseUndrape574 to gta5moneydrops_ [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 08:10 HeadOfSpectre The Quest for America

I am Senator Duncan D. O’nutts from Alabama and I love America! I love America so much that if it were possible for me to fuck America, I’d do it. I once dug a hole in my backyard and tried but it wasn’t the same.

But rest assured one day soon I will succeed.

Regardless I am a man on a mission. This is why I became a Politician after all. I must protect our great nation of Subcanada. I must cleanse it of the vile filth that infects it!

And so, after a day of staring slack jawed into the sun and drooling as I pondered the great mysteries of life, such as where was Waldo and who was ‘Big Mac’. I remembered that mission that I had and mentioned that was very important.

Yes I am a Senator.

I needed to cleanse America of The Homosexuals. This is what the Goverment is for! I must cure them!

With much on my mind as I scoured the mountains of Appalachia, I drove my Economical Ford F-350 truck (America’s truck) to visit my good friend Jim Bob on his pig farm just up towards the Crick.

Now by God my buddy Bob Jim is a GODdamn genius. Easily the smartest man on this here planet, HELL yes! He is so very handsome. Chiseled chin, blonde hair, green eyes. He’s like that Chris Evans fella but even sexier. GOD what a man! I always wished he’d hold me, stroke my hair, tell me I was beautiful and maybe give me a good old American kiss on the lips between men who are manly, but he never did. I don't know why…

I pulled up to his lot and got out to see him sitting up on his old rockin’ chair smoking himself a cigarette with his God Given AT4 Heat Seeking Surface To Air Missile Launcher on his lap. A modest weapon to protect against any of them Queers that might invade his God given territory. He had a right to bear arms and when them Commie Democrats came round to take his rocket launcher from him, he was gonna show them the what for!

Now I ask him how we might stop the Gays and Bim Job - he goes and tells me that if I wanna cleanse America of its Homosexuality, I gots to go and find the SOURCE the ALFA GAY and defeat him in single combat.

Now that sounded just about allright to me, So I went on Wikipedia and looked up THE GAYS and I saw an ad for THE GAYS on THE GOOGLE, which is also gay because it has colors and the gays took over all the colors. There is only one color that is acceptable and that is white. Google told me of Elton John, the King of the Gays. The Rocketman. And well I knew what I had to do.

I asked Jib Bom about The England and he just shook his perfect American fist in the air and said:
“I went there once and by golly it was the worst experience of my life let me tell you son. I stopped for lunch and RadIOHEAD TOOK mY FUCkING BURRITO! HE ate MY GODDAMN MotherFUCKINH burritO! I'M SO FUCKing MAD! HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGH!!!!!!”
“Understandable,” I said and nodded along as Jom Bib angrily shit his pants in shame.

“You go there and you FIGHT BRITAN!” Bimbo Jimbo said, “YOU FIGHT THEM FOR ME AND YOU FIGHT THEM FOR AMERICA!”
Then Harold turned into a MAJESTIC BALD EAGLE and promptly died for unrelated reasons.

So I stopped by the airport, and while I was in the bathroom, some American Man got inside next to me and I thought it might be alright if I took a little suck of his American Dick. After all, I had myself a wide stance when I dropped my patriotic turds, and my shoe touched his. So I knocked to apologize and suck his dick in recompense for disturbing this fine specimen of a man. Anywho, after I finished sucking that A-Tier Alpha Male dick and drinking down every drop of his HOT CREAMY MAN MILK like a MAN, I went and flew myself to The England and went looking for this Elton John fella.

My Father never hugged me… why did he never hug me…?

So I go up to the first house I see and I knock on his door and he comes out in a nice shirt, pants and tie and I asks him.
“Are you the Elton John?”
And he says:
“I’m sorry do I know you? I’m just on my way out the door and a little busy right now.”
So I says to him.
“Nah son I’m here to kick your ass.”
So he says to me.
“The fuck is your problem mate.”

And then I fucking punched him.

Elton John recoiled and as I went in to give him a good American Whoopin, he grabs me and punches me. So we’re struggling now, throwing hands just like them kids do during a good old American Football game and he jumps and he kicks me out his door. He tries to run past me to his car but I grab him by his ankles

“Piss off, I’m trying to pick up me kids from school!” He says but I tells him.
“HELL NO! YOU’RE NOT CORRUPTING MY AMERICA!”

And then fire shoots from his feet and Rocketman Elton John flies up into the skies and through the cosmos and I can only barely hold on as he jets towards the sun.

By GOD he’s gonna try and burn me in it!

So we crash down onto the surface of the sun and it is hotter than the Devils Arsehole. And Elton John gets up and he looks at me and he says to me.
“This is very inconvenient for me, can we do this at another time perhaps?”
And I says: "AMERICAAAAAAAA" and shot him 411 times with my God Given American Assault Rifle.

But Elton John did not support Guns and so my Gun got sad and left to go to therapy to get some real support. Then Elton John came at me from the side, throwing punches and kicks. I was on the backfoot, fighting defensively. He moved gracefully, like an expert. Being an 87 year old American Senator who has eaten nothing but triple cheeseburgers and corn starch since birth, I just couldn't compete!

The heat of the sun was sweltering and the light from it was blinding. I could only barely handle Elton John as he came at me viciously. His fist broke my nose. He jumped and axe stomped me down onto the boiling hot plasma that was our sun.
"Do you think that manufacturing moral outrages against human sexuality and peoples personal rights is just a transparent way to steer the conversation away from genuine problems with your country?" He asked. "Surely there are bigger issues than violating the cherry picked morals from some 2000+ year old book. I mean, I'm not an American and probably don't have the most nuanced understanding of your Government, but anyone with a brain can see the laundry list of problems you're ignoring in favor of complaining about moral corruption. Which seems a bit ironic since a reasonable person might come to the conclusion that rampant gun violence is a greater indicator of moral corruption than two men kissing. And while we're on the subject - why is it that so many of you aggressively cater to conspiracy theorists? Surely you can't believe this shit."
"I mean no, but it pays the bills." I said.

"And you aren't disturbed by the implications that by enabling this kind of thing you're contributing to the actual corruption of your nation? And by extension other nations?"
"STOP VIRTUE SIGNALING YOU'RE NOT EVEN AN AMERICAN!" I cried and shot him with my backup gun that I literally pulled out of my ass.

“You can’t stop the gays, Senator!” Elton John said as he picked me up by my neck, “They’re here, they’re queer, get used to it!”
Then, he threw me down, burying me in the center of the sun before flying off.
“Now… I need to pick up my children and attend a charity function for homeless youth. Ta!”

God… How could I have failed.

Elton John was going to attend a charity function to help homeless youth and there was nothing I could do to stop him…

I post now for 3 reasons.

1: To let you know the dangers of Elton John.

2: To ask if the guy I fought was the actual Elton John and not just an unrelated bloke who just so happened to also be named Elton John because I’ve been looking at a picture of Elton John for the past 72 hours and I don’t believe I’ve ever actually met this man in my life. The guy I fought had a mustache and a name tag reading: “My name is Ken.”

3: I need a ride home. I’m stuck in the center of the Sun and my phone is nearly out of battery.

submitted by HeadOfSpectre to HeadOfSpectre [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 07:02 StepwiseUndrape574 GTA 6 Leak Has Fans In A Frenzy For Rockstar’s Next Monster Game Title

submitted by StepwiseUndrape574 to gta5moddingcommunity [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 06:50 StepwiseUndrape574 GTA 6 Leak Has Fans In A Frenzy For Rockstar’s Next Monster Game Title

submitted by StepwiseUndrape574 to gta5moddingcommunity [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 06:04 Lothli M&L April Fool's Special: A Cacophony of Mixed Nuts

Lothli woke up bright and early this Saturday, as always. Then, with a yawn, she checked her phone: April 1st.
Was there something important happening today? I don’t quite remember…
Her thoughts were quickly swept away by the mundanity of her morning routine. Pulling on clothes, brushing her teeth, doing her hair…
And so, she was entirely caught off guard when she arrived in the kitchen.
Her twin sister cackled like a madwoman, stirring a gigantic cauldron smelling burnt iron, cotton candy, and writer’s tears.
“Maishul, what exactly have you done?” Lothli sighed, ambling over to the bubbling cauldron.
“This? Oh, just a little April Fool’s prank!” the other twin giggled before pulling out a miniature figurine of a strange humanoid insect. With a snap of her fingers, the statuette grew to full size, glancing around warily.
“Oh goodness! What’s going on here?” the moth woman exclaimed, seeming more confused than frightened. “What kind of insect are you? I’ve never seen anyone with just four limbs like you two!”
Lothli turned to Maishul, a frown on her face. “Is this Minerva? Did you STEAL her? We’re going to get banned, you know.”
The other twin continued cackling, heedless of Lothli’s wrath. “No, no, I got permission! Look!”
Indeed, the paper Maishul pulled out did have the signatures of one, two… how many authors?!
“Maishul, what the heck have you done?” Lothli huffed. “This is— how do we—”
“Excuse me, but I believe I may be lost?” Minerva asked, her wings fluttering nervously. “While I would love to ask the two of you some questions, I need to return to my lab, if you could point me in the right direction?”
“Oh, I apologize, Dr. Minerva. You’re currently experiencing a dream. Please do forget about this,” Lothli sighed before snapping her fingers and reverting the insectoid woman to her figurine form.
“How exactly are we going to explain this to Polaris?” Lothli deadpanned with her gaze on her happy-go-lucky sibling.
“Oh, I have a good ‘ol industrial barrel of Remove-Yo-Memory. I’m sure it’ll turn out fine!” Maishul grinned back. “Look, look! Let me show you what wonderful scenes I’ve cooked up for everyone!”
Scene One: Art’s Very Bad, No Good Day
I was not having a good day. First, I was thrown into yet another random plane of existence. Dimension hopping was something I wanted to experience no more than one time in my life; thank you very much. And yet, here I was. In yet another random plane of existence with absolutely no say.
“Iklem.”
Second all, I found myself surrounded by these strange creatures. Four legs, shimmering black pelt, bizarre snake-like neck, flat head, creepy singular eye, and that weirdly human voice. Definitely not a fan.
“Iklem.”
The three Iklems crept—
Ahem. The plural of Iklem is Iklemli, Art.
And thirdly, that obnoxious voice ringing out in my head. Who was that? Why were they in my head? And why could they read my thoughts?
Fine. The three Iklemli crept closer and closer, predatory intent clear. I backed away slowly before my phone suddenly burst out with the cheery tune of Weird Al singing, “Just eat it (eat it), eat it (eat it)...”
“I’m in the mother of all situations here, Demoness, and you choose a freaking parody song? Can you at least tell me what the hell is happening here?” I snarled into my phone’s mic, watching the approaching monsters closely.
“M’dear, I hate to say it, but I have no clue what’s happening.” The slight strain in the Demoness’s usually sultry voice gave me pause. That Demoness? Confused? I really was in some deep shit, wasn’t I?
“Could you at least tell me what an Iklem is?” I said, imitating those creatures as best I could.
“My love, how do I explain this? As best as I could tell, at least five foreign dimensions have been forced together into one singular mess. And whoever did it had no grace or finesse at all.”
Tell the Demoness that she has no grace or finesse, either! Hmph!
Rolling my eyes, I communicated the feelings of my new head neighbor to the Demoness.
“Well, dear, tell your new friend that they should consider undoing this fiasco,” the Demoness replied with a sigh. “Whatever the case is, those Iklemli you mentioned are from one of those other dimensions. I can’t tell you a thing about them.”
With that good news, I turned back to the advancing beasts. This was going to be a fun one…
“Maishul, you can’t just break the fourth wall and shove your thoughts into the scene,” Lothli huffed, shaking her head.
“Pfffft!” Maishul blew a raspberry before turning back to her abomination of a cauldron.
“Also, you can’t just swap to first-person narration. We’re in third-person narration.”
“Well, Matt writes in first-person. And I respect our fellow author’s intent; thank you very much!”
Lothli raised an eyebrow in response before pointing to the bubbling cauldron of doom. “You call THAT respecting our fellow authors’ intents?”
“They gave permission!” Maishul pouted before turning back to her inglorious creation. “And you won’t complain once you see my next glorious scene!”
Scene Two: Sloth Squared
Pride’s scowl only grew deeper as he dragged his erstwhile companion along. The swampland around them had warped into a blooming forest, with trees looming large overhead. The various fully intact buildings were most concerning, indicating that the pair had passed into a rift.
“Sloth, GET UP!” he hissed, shaking the lazy layabout.
“Huh? Wuzzit? I’m sleepin…” Sloth snored, already back asleep.
“We’ve got a MAJOR problem here. Pretty sure a rift opened around us, so stay on guard!”
Sloth blearily stumbled to his feet before glancing wide-eyed at his surroundings.
“Holy cow, you’re right! I didn’t even notice. But, man, Pride, I’m so tired… I…” Sloth stumbled a bit further before faceplanting directly into a bed of flowers.
“Dammit, Sloth. This is ridiculous, even for your standards.” Pride leaned down to pick Sloth back up, but something strange was afoot. As soon as he leaned down, an overwhelming surge of exhaustion passed through him as well, and he collapsed on top of his companion.
“Dude, you’re sleeping right on top of a good patch. Can you two move?” A voice lazily drifted into Pride’s mind before he rocketed up ramrod straight.
“Hwa— what!? Oh. A rifter.” Pride composed himself as he stared down at the man who awoke him. About five foot six, with short white hair and red eyes.
“Uh, I’m not a rifter or whatever you just called me. I’m Clear, prince of Sloth. And you?” Clear tilted his head.
“Prince… of me? Ehehe, there’s no prince of me…” Sloth murmured in his sleep.
“Typical rifter, spewing nonsense. Come on, you lazy bum. We’re gonna hide before this gets violent.” Pride turned to drag Sloth away but found his legs unwilling to move.
“Hey, man. C’mon now. You haven’t noticed you’re in a dream yet?” Clear said, his hand extended. “Let’s just talk, alright?”
Pride struggled for a few more moments, then back at Clear. “Alright, alright, never seen a rifter do that before. Calm down, yeah? I’ll chat until this rift collapses.”
“So please, introduce yourself properly this time,” Clear responded, freeing Pride with a flick of his hand.
“Right. I’m Pride, that’s Sloth.” Pride pointed at himself, then at his companion. “Can we go?” “No. Please explain what you are doing here and those wings on your back.” Clear yawned. “Also, don’t use our nation’s name as a moniker. It’s probably disrespectful… or something. Eh, we don’t actually care that much.”
“Huh? We’re here because your stupid rift pulled us in,” Pride hissed. “And these wings? We were born with ’em. No story here. Also, pretty sure we were the ones who had those names first.”
“Eh, the kingdom of Pride wouldn’t be very happy to hear about that,” Clear responded. “But whatever, man. Things have been rather chill ever since a random blob named Sparky fell on top of the Demon King and ate him or whatever. So enjoy the nap, I guess. Mind if I join in?”
Pride rolled his eyes before scooting over to allow Clear access to the flowers. Before long, Sloth and Clear were snuggled up together, much to the chagrin of Pride.
“What the hell am I supposed to do now?”
“Aren’t they just the cutest?!” Maishul exclaimed. “We should make that our newest OTP. I bet Haru would approve.”
“Please don’t ship characters across two different SerSuns,” Lothli replied with a shake of her head. “Also what was that about Sparky eating the Demon King—”
“OKAYNEXTSCENE!!”
Scene Three: Machines, Demons, and The World Tree
There was a rather strange rash of oddly dressed folk in Lugavya lately. Or rather, just odd folk in general.
Rumors flew of a human with bird wings who passed over the town, carried through hurried whispers between the residents. A strange man with fierce red eyes insisting on making ‘deals,’ much to the annoyance of passersby trying to get through their day.
Lena and Veska had met to investigate, unable to keep themselves still while such strange events abounded. No sooner had the two exchanged greetings did two strange men approach, flagrantly discarding any sensibilities on their right to free speech.
“Hello!” the younger one called out before getting his head gently bonked by the older.
“W-what was it? Oh! The greeting we use should have been ‘well met,’ right?” the teenage boy puzzled himself, rubbing his head.
“No. Firstly, as foreign visitors, we do not use that greeting. Secondly, we do not greet them. They greet us,” the older whispered, turning his eyes to Lena and Veska. It seemed at least one of them remembered their manners.
“Peace, strangers. We will not begrudge you for your transgressions. Tell me, what business have you with us?” Lena began.
“We are looking for directions. We have lost our way. Please, would you tell us our current location? Latitude and longitude are preferred, but any notable landmarks will do.” The older man bowed slightly, with the younger following shortly after.
Latitude? Longitude? These words were unfamiliar to Lena and Veska.
“This is Lugavya. Home to Alvedos, the World Tree?” Veska explained, an eyebrow raised. Were these folks raised under a rock or something?
The two men conversed among themselves, their frowns deepening.
“Apologies, but I am unaware of Lugavya. Could you perhaps point us in the direction of the United States?” the older asked, tilting his head slightly.
“Oh, and if you know of any demons, could you put in a word for me? I can’t figure out the ritual to get home without one of them…” the younger added.
The United States? Demons? More unfamiliar terms. Lena and Veska knew these newcomers were oddballs, but this was a bit much.
“I’m sorry—really! But we simply don’t have the knowledge to help the two of you. Perhaps you could head to the Foresters? I’ll give you their location.” Lena rattled off directions to the nearby Foresters’ hall.
“Thank you very much.” The older man stalked off after a stiff bow, and the younger man quickly followed.
“Sticks and stones, what is the world coming to?”
“Was that Megan’s SerSun? All that intricately balanced worldbuilding, and you just shoved random crap in.” Lothli barely held back a sigh. “Also, you didn’t even introduce those two characters. How are our readers supposed to know who they are?”
“This is left as an exercise to the reader,” Maishul tittered into the camera before returning to the glorious mess in her cauldron.
“Next scene!”
Scene Four: The One With No Chill
There wasn’t much that could faze a Huntress.
It was often said that their wills were unshakable. Nothing could cause them to stop them from single-mindedly accomplishing their goal. And yet, Olivia stood dead in her tracks, staring at the abomination across the Dam square.
“I AM OLIVIA. DARK HUNTRESS. SMASHER OF SQUEAKERS. AND THE ONE WITH NO CHILL,” the awful creature that vaguely resembled Olivia boomed.
“That young lass a friend of yours?” Barlow remarked, barely holding back a chuckle.
“Nope.” Olivia chucked one of her daggers at the offending sight, but she deflected the blade with a ripple of its musculature.
“You are weak. You have no strength. Witness me, false Olivia.” The muscle monster took up a ridiculous pose, her muscles overtly flexing.
“I will destroy you. And after that, I will destroy your creator. And I’ll salt your entire bloodline, while I’m at it,” Olivia snarled.
“I would like to see you try, false Olivia. Last time, I was overcome by the power of the Deus Ex Machina. But this time, I will not be struck down.” The monster took a step forward, the cobblestones cracking under her feet.
Olivia flinched. A Huntress does not feel fear. A Huntress does not back down. Yet… in the face of this horrible being… Her mind recalled the near-death experience she had with the Beast. Did she really want to face that again?
She shook her head, clearing it. No. She would finish this. Olivia raced at the mocking facsimile of herself, her onyx daggers at the ready. As she drew closer, she summoned every ounce of strength and struck.
As Olivia flew through the air, the world seemed to slow down.
Ah… this feels… familiar…
“‘Admittedly, Huntress, you are quite the entertainer—”
“No!” Lothli slapped the figurines out of Maishul’s hands, sinking them into the dreadful mire of the cauldron below. “You can’t reuse that line for the third time!”
“But you used it, Lothli. That’s hypocritical!” Maishul harrumphed.
“Yes, because it was the first time we used it. You can’t just reuse jokes like that!” Lothli glared. “And don’t think I forgot about that comment Clear made about Sparky. What. Exactly. Did you do?”
“Uhm, uhh…” Maishul stuttered. “W-Well, I maybe kinda spilled some my Story-Breaking-Plot-Devices into the cauldron on accident…”
“Your WHATS?!” Lothli stared at her twin in disbelief.
“Uhh, it wasn’t a big deal or anything. Just, uh... Scarlet, the Demon King, Sparky, Wan, Pre-Geas Dread Lord Ardus, the plague from , the Deus Ex Machina, the Beast, and the entirety of the United States’ arsenal of nuclear weaponry.”
Lothli shook her head with a sigh. “I’m pretty sure you caused mass human extinction at least three times over.”
“Well! No time to worry about it! Next scene!”
Scene Five: Bea and Ophelia Discover The Wonders of Nuclear Physics
Bea and Ophelia stared at the booklet that had just materialized before them. “Maishul’s Simple Guide to Stealing and Utilizing the Entirety of the United States’ Arsenal of Nuclear Weaponry: For Dummies!” The booklet was decorated with garish stickers of rainbows and glitter, along with cartoonish mushroom clouds.
With a glance at Ophelia, Bea picked up the book. Immediately, her mind was flooded with images and knowledge. Where exactly every nuclear silo in the United States was located. The launch codes and how to bypass the two-key rule. The birth and loving families of each and every nuclear warhead…?
“Bea? Dear? Are you alright?” Ophelia shook Bea gently, concerned. Bea wordlessly handed over the booklet and watched the same information flow through her. The two shared a meaningful glance before turning the manual over. A bright red button sat there, glowing ominously amongst the childish stickers and drawings of shocked faces.
“This is absolutely too dangerous to be left just lying around,” Bea murmured, staring at the booklet intently. Maybe it was a prank some lesser fae put together to induce some concerning but ultimately harmless illusions. But deep down, the two knew this was far more sinister than a simple prank. Plus, there was no fae named “Maishul” that either of them knew of.
“I’m going to have to seal this thing away with the strongest magic I have,” Ophelia declared. With a wave of her hand, ethereal chains weaved around the book. Magical seals whirled through the air, all concentrated on the offending manual. The horrors of nuclear annihilation have been contained with a final clap of her hands.
For around five seconds. Immediately after the ritual was complete, as if to spite Ophelia’s work, a glowing sword descended from the heavens, slicing through the glowing chains and seals like butter. The two barely managed to glimpse the name written on the side: “The Deus Ex Machina,” before the blade landed squarely on the big red button with a satisfying click!
“Shit.”
“So what exactly were you saying about ‘not worrying about it’?” Lothli shook her head in dismay. “How are we going to explain this mess to their poor, poor writers? What are we going to say to Bay?”
“It’ll be fine! I’m not breaking any of the rules on shortstories, which means I totally can’t be banned!” Maishul quipped cheerily.
“That is 100% not how it works.” Lothli crossed her arms. “Don’t drag me down with you.”
“I dunno! You’ll bail me out, right?” Maishul shrugged before returning to her appalling project. “Next scene!”
Scene Six: Sanguia Loses a Fight
These were the end times. The world felt… sideways. The government was in shambles. A plague that turned people into fine, yellow dust had apparently appeared, sweeping the continent from east to west. Yet, there was nothing I could do. Right in front of me, I had my own foes to contend with on the roof of Holos Lucidium.
On my right was a shapeless mass, writhing and transforming, throwing vicious barbs my way. It never introduced itself, but I knew its name from within myself: the Beast.
On my left was a much more innocent figure, at least on the surface. He had slicked-back black hair, brown eyes simmering with self-assured pride, and an easy smirk. And to cap it off, he introduced himself promptly and with great gusto; he was Dread Lord Ardus.
I could attempt to flee, but what purpose would that serve? Even if I got away, which my gut told me was highly unlikely, I would be abandoning my guild to die to these two monsters. So no. I stood my ground here.
“Sanguia. Member of Holos Lucidium.” I balanced my stance between my two flanks, watching both. With a smirk from Ardus and a ripple from the Beast, the fight began.
I quickly discarded the idea of even fighting the rippling mass on my right. It had no blood I could control, and impacting it with my blade would make me stuck. But the Dread Lord was no slouch, either.
As I rushed at Ardus, a tingle in my spine screamed at me to duck. I tucked into a combat roll as a great blast of flame roared right where I used to be.
“Fiesty, aren’t you? Well, that’s what makes it fun,” the Dread Lord growled, licking his lips.
I had no time to respond as a raging, shimmering bull attempted to ram its gleaming horns directly through me. I sprung off the ground, landing just behind the writhing bull. There was no time to go on the offensive; it took all I could to stay alive.
“Stop struggling, Interloper,” the Beast snarled. “I have plans I have to attend to. Plans that do not involve you.”
I kept the undulating mass between myself and my second opponent. My only hope was to promote crossfire. The dagger I held in my right hand felt woefully inadequate for this task.
“You heard the fella. I’ll end this, here and now.” Ardus thrust his hand straight up into the air as if grasping something far above him.
“Dread Lord. May I take this as a sign of betrayal?” The Beast rumbled, a dangerous edge to its voice.
“Nah, I never said I was working with you. You’re too… icky for my tastes.” The Dread Lord tapped his chin thoughtfully. “It’s a good thing you’ll be obliterated in an instant. Ta ta!”
I looked up with a heavy heart, knowing how outclassed I was. There was barely time to say goodbye before a massive ball of light enveloped me in its all-consuming shine. The last thing I managed to think was:
That was an utterly unfair fight.
“Well, the protagonist of our SerSun just died. What now?” Lothli looked at the cauldron in dismay.
“Hey, it’s not so bad! Scarlet is still alive, right?” Maishul dug around in the cauldron before pulling out yet another distended scene. “Look! Here she is!”
“What… is that?” Lothli looked at the scene with equal parts awe and disgust.
“Oh! Well, I really liked Fye’s SerSun, so I made my own! Isn’t it great?”
“Maishul, I think you missed the entire point of his SerSun. Where’s the inter-character drama? Where’s the mystery? Where’s the actual HISTORY?” Lothli poked the off-kilter scene with distaste. “This version of the story is just <Murder.>.”
“Well too bad, dear ‘ol sis! Here! We! Go!”
Scene Seven: Murder Without the History
Hi, I’m Benedict Lushon, Ben for short. Somehow, I think I just unlocked the secret to teleportation. I stand in the middle of the mansion’s dining room, feeling my stomach turn violently. One moment, I was chained in front of a cackling Kyle, and the next thing I know, we’re back in this blasted room. I crane my head, checking who else is here.
Teddy, check. His monocle and top hat are still crooked as he looks around the room, just as confused as I.
Cornell, check. Unfortunately, he still seems to be out cold.
Kyle, check. Wait—
I stride up to Kyle and grab onto his lapels. “What exactly have you done?” I say, shaking him back and forth.
Unfortunately, he seems even more confused by the current events than I am, judging by the bulging eyes and frothing at the mouth.
“W-What exactly happened here!? We were just— and then—” my former coworker manages to sputter out before a booming feminine voice rings out from the walls.
“Heya! What’s up, characters! It’s me, ya girl Maishul, back at it again with another fun murdery twist!” The cheery voice that booms out from the walls contrasts with all the horrors we’ve seen thus far. Also, who talks like this? Did we get kidnapped by one of those Instagram influencers? Ugh, I hate those kinds of people.
“Who are you?! What have you done?!” Kyle screams, his voice cracking. “I have waited YEARS to take my revenge on these fools, and you—”
“Oh. You.” The voice seems displeased at the interruption. “Sorry, I didn’t think your Tuffy plotline was interesting, so I retconned it!”
Now, that was the mark of a bad writer. As a future multi-bestselling author, I know that one of the most sinful things a writer can do is randomly retcon the story. I’m confident this random influencer girl will never go anywhere in her writing career.
“YOU! We were known as the Tufforo family, and we—” Kyle rages before being cut off by the voice again.
“Sorry, don’t care.” A piece of duct tape manifests itself directly onto Kyle’s mouth. I would find it funny if it didn’t demonstrate how supernatural this influencer’s power seems.
“Anyways! Here’s the rules. I’m not really good at that being cryptic thing, so it’ll be easy!” the voice announces with glee. “Here’s my super special sparkly OC, do not steal, known as Scarlet, Scourge of the Americas. She’ll try and chase you down! She wins when you’re all dead. You all win when, I don’t know, she dies of old age or something. You can try to kill her; it won’t work!”
‘Super special sparkly OC, do not steal?’ So, what, did I find myself in some hellish parody of Earth? That must be it. This must all be a very terrible dream. I sincerely hope that none of my readers would ever consider making fanfiction like this of my stories.
“By jove, those rules seem downright unfair!” Teddy finally seems to have found his voice. “Please, good madam, could you let us go? We have already suffered at the hands of that accursed man—”
“Lalala, can’t hear you!” the girl’s voice sang out. “Here she comes! Give it up for… Scarlet!”
A hidden panel drops a… rather regular-looking young woman onto the floor. Why, if I were in charge, I would have ensured that my villain would have a spectacular appearance. Someone as fascinating and spellbinding as Jack the Ripper—
Scarlet dashes at Kyle and [REDACTED]
… … Technical Difficulties
“MAISHUL! What the hell was that?! Is that how you talk when I’m not around? And what the hell was that last section?” Lothli furiously slapped the tortured scene back into the accursed project bubbling menacingly below.
“Well, Scarlet’s kinda messy, so I tried to cover it up,” Maishul pouted. “Also, I was just trying to liven up the scene a bit! Kyle’s so BORING. He speaks in RIDDLES and they make my brain HURT.”
“That’s because you don’t have a single brain cell in that head of yours,” Lothli huffed. “Don’t make such sweeping changes to people’s stories!”
“Well… dear sis, could I trouble you for a favor, since I’m so head empty ‘n all?” Maishul smiled her widest, most brilliant smile.
“What.” The other twin glared back, unimpressed.
“Well, if you don’t want the two of us to get banned, can you help me separate these stories back out? Please?” With a fluttering of her eyelashes and a winsome wink, this would undoubtedly win her sister to her side—
“Deal with it yourself. I’m going to hand out apologies.” Lothli had no sympathy for her twin’s plight.
“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” Maishul cried. For now, she was burdened with her least favorite task; actual work.
And thus, this tale comes to a close. Nevertheless, its name will ring true throughout the land as the legendary fable known only as “In the Shadow of Machines, Scarlet, and the In Between Geas and the Beginning of the Demon Murder History: Dissonance, also How Did We Get Here?”
Thank you very much for your time. And apologies for my sister.
Lothli, signing off.
Credits: Maishul, Lothli, FTF!Olivia, and the Deus Ex Machina, from u/Lothli’s FTF Serial, Minerva and the plague, from u/PolarisStorm’s Art, Demoness Virtua, Sparky, and Dread Lord Ardus from u/mattswritingaccount’s Iklemli, Lena, and Veska from u/MeganBessel’s Pride and Sloth from u/Helicopterdrifter’s Clear and Alex from u/Carrieka23’s Talix, Sanguia, and Scarlet from u/Lothli’s Olivia, Barlow, and the Beast from u/Not_theScrumPolice’s Wan, Bea, and Ophelia from u/ZachtheLitchKing’s Ben, Theodore, Cornell, and Kyle from u/FyeNite’s The Entirety of the United States Arsenal of Nuclear Weaponry from the United States.
Special thanks to u/OldBayJ, which this fantastic feature would be impossible without.

submitted by Lothli to EnigmaOfMaishulLothli [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 04:10 casualcarlene 160+ K-POP-related puns (April's Fools Special)

What was TOP (BIGBANG) called in his younger years? TEEN TOP.
How does MAMAMOO greet you? Hwasa-p.
Would someone please tell that one guy from EXO to pay attenCHEN?
What did B1A4’s Gongchan say when he couldn't find his shoes? Can I Baro your Sanduels?
What type of bread does EXO eat? A Kaiser roll.
How did BIGBANG perform their songs? Daesung it.
What did Minho do when he was locked out of the dorm? He found Key.
What did INFINITE do on your birthday? They Sunggyu a song.
What do you call Seungcheol at Halloween? S.POOKS.
How can you tell that GOT7 are really smart? They get full Marks.
This pun above must be the weakes Tuan.
What does Yeseob do when he's sad? He Soebs.
What kind of jewelry does f(x) have? Krystals and Ambers.
What is SEVENTEEN’s favourite creature/animal? A Dino.
What is it called when Kyungsoo sings with someone else? A DOet.
What does VIXX order at Olive Garden? Ravi-oli.
What did INFINITE say to the groupie? Ho,ya better get out my way.
What did Leeteuk reply to Sungmin? Yesung.
What does Lee Jinki say to a challenge? I will ONEW.
How do you take a picture of an EXO member from afar? You Xiumin.
What kind of tree produces grease instead of sap? The Namu Tree.
What do you call someone who keeps playfully messing with you? ATEEZ.
What did A.C.E’s Jun say to Donghyun as they were trying to escape a saesang? You better run as fast as Yuchan.
Who is considered UP10TION’s musical genius? Bit-to-ven. (Beethoven)
What does Hwanwoong say to a challenger? Keonhee do better than me?
What is WINNER’s favourite song? Song Minho.
What are Chan & Felix? AuSTRAYlian.
Where does ASTRO go to relax? The Sanha.
How far could Jungkook go when it comes to sports competitions? I think he would go farther than the reJeonals.
Where do Red Velvet like to eat? Wendy's.
Where does EXO spend most of their time? The Ki-CHEN.
What did SHINee buy EXO for their anniversary? A KEY-CHEN.
What is H.O.T’s favourite surf move? Kang-Ten.
What time is curfew for JYP artists? 2AM. Well, in my timezone, it would be 2PM.
Lee Hwanhee auditions for a survival show. The trainees wonder what group he’s from. There are many groups around, but UP10TION’s the Hwanhee’s in.
What did HAN do on stage? Jisung.
What is WJSN’s favourite Grease song? You’re Dawon That I Want.
I hear there's a shy member in VIXX? Just Leo-ve him alone.
What is SHINee’s job at the circus? Lion Taemin’.
How does SNUPER count? Five, Six, Sebin.
Why breathe air when you can breathe oxyJIN?
What happens when NCT does well? They get a Ten out of Ten.
Who visits EXO during Christmas? Suho-Ho-Ho.
What would happen if SEVENTEEN were to drink? They'd get a little bit WOOZI.
What do you do when a JYJ member calls your name? Yoochun around.
What does Key say to the bartender when he gets drunk? Kibum coming.
What is SF9’s favourite NCT DREAM song to cover? Hwiyoung. (We Young)
What did Donghae say to his antis? Please Donghae-t me.
Congratulations, you’ve just won ONEW car. Wow, it's so SHINee.
What is ATEEZ’ favourite song? Song Mingi.
What does U-KISS do when they want something from their boss? They Kiseop to him.
Where does Officer Jungkook put the criminals? The dunJeon.
What was Super Junior doing after their concert? Just Hangeng around.
What does ONEWE say at the end of a concert? Our fans, we’ll CYA soon again.
What is INFINITE’s favourite class? L-Gebra.
What happens when you put Crayolas in the microwave? You get a Crayon Pop.
What is SM’s favourite Star Wars Character? WooKey.
What do members of VIXX eat for breakfast? WeetVIXX.
What is up with Chaerin’s swag? It's so she can't CL the haters.
How does TEEN TOP beg for forgiveness? They Niel down.
Where do TWICE go to relax? The Sana.
What do THE BOYZ do when they perform the Relay Dance? They stand in a Q.
What does (G)I-DLE say instead of ‘etc’? And Seoyeon and so forth.
Why does Woohyun keep making hearts? He just wants to Woo your soul.
People have talked about Jungshook a lot. What about Shookjin and Hoshook?
Is B.A.P still together? No, so there's Zelo of them left.
What would the name of Jimin’s song be if V had originally sung it? Serendipitae.
How does that David Guetta and Justin Bieber song go? When it comes Tzuyu.
What happened when Red Velvet's Wendy went up against Super Junior in a contest? Siwon.
What happened to Leedo when ONEUS and AB6IX took part in a challenge? He Hwanwoong.
What did INFINITE learn in Chemistry? The L-ements.
What is the most common reaction to Gangnam Style? Psy.
What do you call Kai when he goes out for a run? Kim Joggin’.
What caused the BIGBANG? Normal People: Science? Me: Uh.. YG?
What did SEVENTEEN say when they won first place? We Won, Woo!
How do you send Block B mail? Through a P.O box.
What religion does EXO follow? Taoism.
What do you call a VIXX member born in August? A Leo.
If Yoongi were a mythical creature, would he be a Yoonicorn?
What was Superman called as a child? Super Junior.
What did Hoya ask the other members when they announced the winner and he wasn’t paying attention? Howon?
Do you know why Jeongin is my bias? It's because I'm I.N love with him.
Why do 2NE1 hate packaged goods? It’s because they have to break the CL to open it.
What did Woohyun say to Inspirits? I love Gyu.
What is SEVENTEEN’s favourite Jonas Brothers song? Vernon’ Up.
If Minseok comes to a conclusion without evidence, you could say he's aXiumin things.
If SOPE (BTS) were to star in a television show, would we call that a SOPE Opera?
I gotta Luhand it to you, I wasn’t Sehun this coming.
Why couldn't Super Junior find their pants? Because Leeteuk them.
What happened when Mr. Moon left his food outside overnight? It became s-Taeil.
What did Yeo do at an ATEEZ concert? Yeosang a song.
Why is Crayon Pop the messiest K-POP group? It's because they're never doing their Choa’s.
What do Golden Child play when they’re bored? TAG.
Jonghyun is such a good singer? He is never off-KEY.
Why is Daniel the maknae of Dalmation? He’s the Youngwon.
How does that one song go? From the windows to the Hwalls.
What is MBLAQ’s favourite month? Lee June.
You know how Jin gives food to the people with him, especially in VLive? That's what we call Jinerosity.
What did SEVENTEEN call Seo Myungho when he didn't arrive on time? The L8.
There are 12 Mons in a year, and BTS’ favourite is NamJune.
What happens when you do something bad to D.O? He Kyung-sues you. He Kyungfu kicks you.
What does Dara say when she loses? Dara-nit.
I know a lot about MONSTA X, so you could say I.M their biggest fan.
What does Stray Kids’ Lee Yongbok do when his lips are dry? He Lix them.
Have you heard ATEEZ’ new title track ‘Inception’? I hope Yunho what song I’m talking about.
Why did BIGBANG suddenly get down on one knee? They were Taeyang their shoes.
What did Soohyun do when he broke something precious to Kevin? Eli’d.
What is DAY6’s favourite alphabet letter? Jae.
What did Red Velvet say when the We Got Married season ended? Oh, Joy.
How does Ten say Hi? Thai everyone.
What is Jellyfish Entertainment’s favourite ointment? VIXX.
Before Hwa started his performance, Wooyoung asked, “Are you going to sing a Seong,Hwa?
What did a Jewish person say to a Golden Child member when he asked about their religion? I’m a Joochan.
What do you do with Stray Kids’ Chris at night? You Bang Chan. (I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me.)
What did Luk Factory say when NOIR finally won first place? Daewon.
What is MBLAQ’s favourite animal? A MIRcat.
Why doesn't EXO smell? They use D.Odorant.
What did Lee Donghyuck say when he met Christopher Bang? Haechan.
What is EXO’s favourite breakfast? Eggs and Baekhyun.
What is LOONA’s favourite movie soundtrack? My Heart Will Gowon.
What did MAMAMOO say when they saw their song was doing really well on the charts? Are Wheein first place?
If you’re a fit person, you’ve probably been Jimin’ quite a lot.
Why did Lee do so well on his test? It’s because Lee Know all the answers.
What is BAP’s favourite bird? A Youngjae.
Who is the warmest member in ATEEZ? San.
Some people have to take many pills for their medical conditions, fortunately for me, I only have to take Wonpil.
One day Highlight was planning their comeback. Gikwang says: How about making a comeback in May? Their manager says: No, let’s Do-joon.
For Yoongi stans, he could be a big part of their Yooniverse. He keeps Bangtan Yoonified. He is very Yoonique. Yoongi owning a Kingdom. Yoonited Kingdom. The Daegu Boys, although they are game cheaters, they keep Bangtan YooniTaed.
NU’EST are quite busy people, always running Arond.
Hi, I’m Park Chanyeol, and you’re watching Disney Chanyeol.
I J-Hope you’ve been enjoying these puns so far.
How does EXO wish you Happy Holidays? Merry Krismas Tao you.
Taecyeon walks into a bar. The bartender asks, “A drink, Mr Kim?” Taecyeon replies, “No thanks, I'm Ok.
There was a time when a fan bought a part of the moon and named it, "Kim Namjoon". I would be laughing if someone decided to name it "Rap Moon".
Have you heard that new ONEUS song everyone’s been Ravn’ about?
If you have JYP’s baby, would he lean over it and whisper, “This is a JYP Production.”
“Did you drop that?” “Minah”. (Me? Nah.)
Jihyo, you are the reason that I breath. Jihyo, you are the reason that I still believe. (Listen to the A.R Rahman & Pussycat Dolls song for reference.)
Kun will be the perfect boyfriend. He will love you unKunditionally.
I told my friend about this one boy group. I said, “They’re really Great,Guys.”
If you're a baby fan, you could say you're a Newkidd.
If you’re a smart and bright youngster, you could say you’re a Golden Child.
I really like that one member of WINNER, he’s a very JINUine person.
What is an informal way to address a group of men singing in a K-POP group? Let's just call them THE BOYZ.
Hears a noise: JungLOOK. Gets a teaching job: JungBOOK. Is hungry: JungCOOK. Gets scared: JungSHOOK.
Little girl got into an accident. How Hyorible. She was Sooyoung.
A pack of wolves broke into Woollim Entertainment and ate a two member boy band. They were Tasty.
What does GFRIEND use instead of ‘etc’ or ‘and so forth’? And Sowon.
What does NCT’s Japanese member say to the other members? Can Yuta-ke my heart?
What did the models do when they became K-POP idols? They ulzzang.
When you debut, you are automatically an Idle, but if you work hard enough, you can become an iKON.
When you see something relatable online, you’d tend to say this is SOMI.
(This is more of a story). You spend hours locked up in the studio, your skin is pale white and ice cold. You change your hairstyle like no tomorrow and you… Sometimes dress like a girl. There was a pause between them. She opened her lips again. “I know what you are.” “Say it. Say it.” “ … G-Dragon.”
When it comes to K-POP, I must tell you, I'm very IN2IT. The experience is quite UNIQ. The music releases are INFINITE. I listen to K-Music Weeekly, although I listen to the most music on DAY6/SATURDAY, After School has finished, round about Seven ‘O Clock. If I’m busy, I listen to it once AWEEK. I like listening to the NU'EST songs. Oftentimes, it's the Highlight of my day. Sometimes I think I might eNOI my family a bit.
My love for K-POP is ASTROnomical.
Once you get into K-POP, there’s no EXID.
When it comes to puns, OnlyOneOf these answers can end up on top.
K-POP puns are so hard to come up with, I'm trying to find ONEWE would all find funny.
If coming up with puns was a test, I'm sure I'd A.C.E it, but I'm not going to lie, it's VERIVERY hard. In the end, I really want that 100%.
SONG PUNS:
When will GOT7 disband? Never Ever.
What did WINNER say when they found out YG was cancelling their concert? Really, Really, Really, Really?
What were WINNER doing with books and pencils? They were Color Ring.
When is INFINITE’s curfew? Before The Dawn.
What do VERIVERY play when they’re bored? Tag Tag Tag.
What is ONEUS’ favourite song to sing? A Song Written Easily.
FANDOM NAME PUNS:
Are you a U-KISS fan? Because KissMe.
I just bought a new SHINee album. Now I need to Shawol my K-POP friends.
What did Hongjoong ask Mingi when he saw he had lots of leftover food? Can I have ATINY bit of your food?
How many bias groups do you have? IGOT7.
COMPANY NAME PUNS:
Why is BTS getting so popular now? You could say it’s because they’re a Big Hit.
PICK-UP lines:
Here are some pick-up lines just for added effect, because, honestly, some of these are just great.
Are you BLACKPINK? Because I want to be in my area.
Are you an Inspirit? Because my love for you is INFINITE.
My name is Soonyoung, but you can call Soon.
Bambam is the sound my heart makes when I see you.
I DREAM about U 127 hours of the week.
Is Lee a thief, becuase Leeteuk my heart.
You want a pick-up line, because IGOT7.
I know your name is the The8, but you’re The1 for me.
Are you a PENTAGON fan, because you’re my UNIVERSE.
GENERAL K-POP JOKES:
Pray for Mark Lee. He’s already in his third unit in a row. He did say it would be a long ass ride.
How does BamBam wipe his tears? He dabs them. insert dance move
Why didn’t Starship Entertainment artists go trick or treating in 2016? It’s because of Mad Clowns.
What do you call GOT7’s Jinyoung with a cape? Super Junior.

submitted by casualcarlene to kpop [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 03:40 Inorai [Menagerie of Dreams] Chapter 4.5: The Game Is Afoot

https://preview.redd.it/86vaue6fg6ra1.jpg?width=1024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=a16c68b8a32739246ae36150cb23a0d8be02b4e1
Cover Art Cover Art (Alternate) First Chapter Patreon Playlist
The Story: When a seemingly-powerless human walks straight through the wards shielding her bestiary, Aloe finds herself with a mystery on her shop floor - and with her merciless kin eager to get their hands on him, they've got a deadline on solving it.
---------------------------------
Together they strode back through Windscour’s compound, leaving the offices behind. The receptionist rose as they passed, raising a hand, but Kyran waved her off.
“She does not look pleased,” he said, shooting a look at Aloe. “You tampered with her, didn’t you?”
Color crept up her cheeks. “I needed to see you,” she mumbled. “If she’d warned you, you’d have locked everything down before I could get a word out. Wouldn’t you?”
“You can’t go around enspelling whoever you please,” Kyran said, though, his expression darkening.
“I do feel a bit bad for the encounter,” she mumbled, teasing a loose strand of blonde hair between two fingers. Her eyes rose, her expression sharpening again. “But I did what I had to, and I don’t regret that.” She raised an eyebrow. “Will you file a claim of your own?”
She held her tongue after that, watching as the words settled in. It wasn’t as simple as that, and both of them knew it. If Kyran wanted, he could march straight back to Jaian, have an investigation brought against her.
But doing that would also open an investigation into everything else that went on in Windscour, including his theft of Rowen, and he wouldn’t want that. Sure enough, after a moment’s pause, Kyran shook his head, quickening his pace. “Of course not,” he said, his voice saccharine-sweet. “A misunderstanding, that’s all. Yes?”
“Indeed,” Aloe said. She glanced around at the hallways they passed, which were steadily growing more sterile and nondescript as they wound deeper into the research part of the structure. “You’re not housing him in the focarium?” she said. “That’s your pride and joy, isn’t it?” The Lossimers were an analytical bloodline, their magic given to assessments and enhancements, their spells etched in runes. The focarium was his baby—and with it, he could plumb straight into the depths of magic. “I assumed you’d have him there.”
“We’ve only had him a few hours, Aloe,” Kyran said, an exasperated note slipping into his voice. Holding out a hand, he steered them down a side hallway, marked simply Holding. He pulled a badge from his belt, tapping it against a sensor on the wall, and gestured forward as the lock clicked open. “We hadn’t gotten that far yet. Come along.” As he pushed ahead, she saw him grimace. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Yes, please. She followed on his heels as they entered the wing—just a lonely hallway with a handful of doors off either side. Runes glowed from the floor and ceiling, burning with a low light Aloe couldn’t begin to make sense of. Given the name of this hallway and why they’d come to it today, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Kyran went straight to the hallway’s single closed door, all the way at the end. Aloe drifted behind him, her steps slower as he fumbled with his badge a second time. The lock on the door beeped as he again tapped the card against it. And then he stood back.
“There,” he said. “Be my guest.”
And as she stepped forward, she heard him sigh. “You know, I don’t know why you’ve got yourself so worked up over this. If you’d just-”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m sure you don’t.”
“I mean, you’re going to such lengths. It’s not going to change anything. You have to know that.”
She reached out, laying a hand on the cool metal. “You wouldn’t understand,” she whispered, her eyelids sinking lower.
Pushing hard, she turned the latch, pulling the door open in the same smooth motion.
The room inside was bare, she saw as she stepped in, just a smooth tile floor and a bed jammed into one corner. Something in her eased as she caught sight of the man sitting on its edge.
Rowen looked up through hazy, unfocused eyes. “Hey,” he rasped, then licked his lips, swallowing. He shifted, like he was trying to stand, but his legs weren’t cooperating. He gave up, sitting back down. “It’s…you.”
Aloe sighed, crossing toward him. “What did you do to him?”
“He’s just sedated,” she heard Kyran say from the doorway behind her. “Our sleep spells weren’t doing anything to him.”
“You don’t say,” she said dryly. Rowen tried to bat away her hands when she reached in, but she took gentle hold of one wrist, checking his pulse.
“We had to use human drugs in the end,” Kyran said. “Hope you’ve got some of those stashed around.”
She couldn’t miss the amusement in his voice. The spite. He was having fun with this. Releasing Rowen’s arm, she stepped back, safely out of range of his half-hearted swings. Her hand came up to cup her chin. “How am I going to do this?” she murmured.
Kyran snorted. “What’s that? The great Aloisia is stumped?”
She shot him a look. “I’m not-”
“I don’t care how you take him,” Kyran said. “But he has to be gone. I’m not running a hostel here. You wanted him?” He gestured, scowling. “You’ve got him. He’s your problem now.”
“I know, I’m just-”
“If it’s too much for you, I’d be happy to call the deal off.”
It was her turn to snort, shaking her head. “Wouldn’t you just.”
Rowen took another swipe at her, reeling in his seat. “Can’t do this,” she heard him mumble, the words slurred. “I’ll- I’m gonna-”
“Quiet,” she said with a sigh. Her hand dropped to her belt—and her kalimba. This time she unhooked it, running her thumbs across the tines. A cascade of bells filled the room.
Steadily, she started to pluck one after another, the resonance building and turning in on itself as she added notes. Her limbs steadied, her strength buoying. The wave of magical aid was accompanied by the sharp pang of a headache starting to take root. She grimaced, but kept going. Enhancement magic was Kyran’s forte, not hers, but she could make it work in a pinch.
And as the last note echoed on the air, she hung the kalimba back from its loop, letting it fall to her hip. The intoxicating flood of strength was still there as she took hold of Rowen, sliding his arm over her shoulders.
He tried to fight her. His punch was more like a slap, his movements too uncoordinated to break away. “L’me go,” she heard him mumble. “I’ll kill you. I’ll-”
“Yes, you’re very strong,” she said with a grunt, rising. Her knees ached for a moment—but she straightened, pulling his two hundred pounds of dead weight up with her.
Kyran was watching when she turned, one eyebrow raised. “You’re going to carry him like that all the way back to the surface world?” he said. “And what happens after Callaton? Will you drag him through the human streets like a prisoner?”
Aloe grinned, even as she started to sweat. Oh, he thought he had her stuck, did he? She reached beneath the collar of her sweater with her free hand, pulling loose a chain from beneath. A trio of crystal rods hung from it like a pendant.
With the three rods resting in the palm of her hand, she hesitated. Crystal foci were expensive. Incredibly so. These three had been a gift, and once they were gone, she wasn’t sure where she’d find more.
That was a question to be solved in the future, though. She needed them now, so use them she would. Leaning over, she rapped one of them against the wall. It sang out like a tuning rod, filling the room with its clear, pure peal. Kyran’s eyes widened. “Wait. You’re not going to-”
Her hand closed around the rod, dampening the sound—and she snapped it in her palm. Fragments of crystal dug against her skin. Magic poured outward, carried on the rippling echoes of that perfect note.
Home, she whispered silently, holding the image of the Dancing Dragon in her mind. Take us home. The odds were good that this wouldn’t work, but since she didn’t have another option on hand, she had to try. If her magic wouldn’t take hold with Rowen here-
The roar of the magic crescendoed. Light filled her vision. In the incandescent glow of it, she saw Kyran take a step back, letting out a startled yelp.
As the magic wrapped tight around her, she pulled Rowen closer, as if the vortex could possibly rip him away from her. Light flared in front of her as reality tore open, not dissimilar to what Kyran's goos had done - but way the hell more expensive. She sighed inwardly for what this adventure would cost her.
She stepped forward, dragging Rowen with her, and gave the portal a quick, nervous look as the two approached. This had better work. If he destroyed the portal, she'd be stuck here, and the thought of Kyran's smug face leering back at her was too much to bear.
It'd worked for Kyran's people. It would work for her.
Teeth gritted, she heaved the both of them across the threshold. The swirling, blazing magic flickered, growing darker - but held. Aloe grinned. Victory.
And with one last cascade of sparks, she stepped out into the Dragon.
Still reeling, she cast a look around, Rowan’s arm slung around her shoulders. He was taller than her, which left her dragging his legs limply behind them—but they were home. She exhaled, letting herself droop. Almost done.
When Aloe turned for the stairs, though, a glimmer of light on her desk caught her attention. She paused, glancing over. A smile curled at her lips at the sight of her letterbox gleaming in rainbow shades.
Staggering one last step forward, she dropped Rowen unceremoniously onto Daisy’s bed. The knurl raised her head with a whuff, shying back at the unexpected intrusion. “Sorry,” Aloe panted, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. “Bear with it, girl. He’s friendly. Well.” She grimaced, remembering the swipes. “Mostly.”
He’d fallen still over their journey. She leaned closer, letting her eyes sweep over him as she gave a good, assessing look. What she saw made her sigh, sitting back on her heels. He was still awake, but probably only barely. He kept trying to curl up, pulling his knees close to his chest, and his hands were shaking.
“You’re safe now,” she said softly, but there was no reaction from the man. She turned for the letterbox with a weary groan, dropping into her chair. Was it just another bill, or-
Her smile grew as she withdrew the letter from within, spotting the familiar chicken-scratch handwriting on the front. Despite how horrible a day it’d been thus far, her mood lifted. Leaning back, she took a letter opener from the desk, carefully slicing the letter open.
The paper inside was sturdy and thick, the handwriting no more legible than it’d been on the front.
Aloe -
I almost wrote you earlier, but I wanted to wait until I really knew what I’d found. I’m still in the Deeproads. Deep, but not too deep. Don’t fret.
You’ll never believe what I’ve stumbled upon. I felt a bit of resonance on my last dive, so I plumbed the depths again, and this time, I broke through into a new shell. It’s remarkable. I don’t believe anyone’s been in it for years. Decades. Perhaps centuries. I found the ruins of an old structure abandoned there, but besides for that, it’s all sunbirds and the tiniest, most adorable little dragons you’ve ever seen.
I don’t think the shell is in too much danger of a collapse. It feels almost like a natural pocket, instead of a Child-forged construct. Perhaps you would be interested in visiting? I wouldn’t mind sharing the coordinates with you.
Give your knurl a rub for me.
Welther
Aloe chuckled to herself, running her fingers across the textured surface of the paper. “He’s up to his usual troubles, then,” she murmured, her cheeks warming gently. And he’d found dragons for her, too. Miniature ones. She glanced out to the shop floor, raising an eyebrow. The store was wood, so she’d always been loath to bring a dragon inside—especially considering how large they got. But if it was small enough? Maybe.
She lay the letter down with a sigh, glancing back to Daisy’s bed and its new cargo. “But I’ve got to sort you out first.”
Right. Her eyes widened. Rowen—and Welther. She’d talked big back in Windscour, but she wasn’t a scholar. Not really. She’d be struggling through things from here on out.
But Welther. Welther was a delver, a seeker of lost knowledge, new discoveries. Would he be interested in Rowen? She chewed her lip, weighing the possibility. It’d mean revealing Rowen to someone else, and she really didn’t want to make his existence public knowledge.
This was Welther, though. She couldn’t imagine him raising some sort of public stir over her newest charge. And…Aloe chuckled, shaking her head. If she didn’t tell him what she’d found, he’d probably get upset with her for that alone.
“Wait there just a second more,” she whispered, glancing back down to the dozing form of Rowen. “I’ll get you settled soon.”
Reaching forward, she grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen.
—--------------
The sunbirds overhead flapped back and forth, chattering to each other.
Aloe leaned back in her seat, lacing her fingers behind her head. The shop was quiet. She couldn’t very well open the store, not when all hell might break loose at any moment. Her letter to Welther was written and tucked into the letterbox, whose enchantments had no doubt already whisked it off to its destination. The creatures were fed, their dens mucked out.
All that left for her to do was wait.
She grimaced, letting her eyes sink closed. “What a damned stupid game you’re playing this time, Aloisia,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Go ahead and challenge the lord himself, why don’t you? Why not-”
One of the rafters creaked overhead. She stopped.
Looking up, she watched the floorboards compress, the wood flexing almost-imperceptibly. Her pulse quickened. Was it-
The sound of a footfall drifted down, so soft as to almost be lost entirely. She heard the distant clink of bedsprings.
Aloe sat back, waiting. Her thoughts of Kyran and Welther were long gone, just a flicker in the back of her mind. All of her attention was fixated on the ceiling of the Dragon—and the low, hesitant sound of someone creeping across the floor.
Her shop was well-built, but she’d lived in it for almost two decades, and she knew every creak and whine the place had. Her eyes drifted, following the telltale signs as they crept out of the bedroom and down the hall, descending the stairs on unsteady feet.
The footsteps went quiet, brought to a halt beyond the swinging doors that separated the shop from her home.
Even without a sound, though, she knew he was there. She could almost hear the ragged sound of his breathing, the terrified pounding of his heart. She didn’t get up, just stayed where she was, placid and calm—but her chin lifted. “I know you’re there,” she said. “In the stairwell. You’re not sneaking up on anyone.” In the silence, she heard the faint sound of an indrawn gasp.
Aloe smiled, leaning back another inch. Bingo. “You can come out now.”

submitted by Inorai to redditserials [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 03:27 StepwiseUndrape574 GTA 6 Leak Has Fans In A Frenzy For Rockstar’s Next Monster Game Title

submitted by StepwiseUndrape574 to gta5_moddedaccounts_ [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 02:48 StepwiseUndrape574 GTA 6 Leak Has Fans In A Frenzy For Rockstar’s Next Monster Game Title

submitted by StepwiseUndrape574 to gta5_moddedaccounts_ [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 02:02 _Nohbdy_ Bobzymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Bobzymandias, Alpha of Alphas;
Look on my Base, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

submitted by _Nohbdy_ to playark [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 01:23 Adventurous-Map-9400 Growing Up Alien Chapter 17

A homeless teenager reaches out to the Shil’vati on first day of the invasion of Earth.
This is a rewrite of my original story ‘Loyalist’.
Credit to u/bluefishcake for writing the original SSB story.
Pizzaulostin who has been beta reading since the beginning.
and u/BruhMomentGEE
Credit to u/HollowShel for getting me started with this!
This story is based in the SSB universe.
Previous
First
next
as always, comments are welcome.

Chapter 17:

Thanks to the author of Alien-Nation for editing this chapter!

Ruhal:

“We are sorry about the restraints. Your dossier has a security lock from the Office of Interior that I can’t even read, and all our supervisor could tell us was ‘interview with caution’,” one of the two agents explained.
I regarded my handcuffs with professional disapproval. They had a longer than regular chain for ambulatory movement and inmate processing, by the deep, I could even use them as garrote if needed. They had revealed the limits of their rank with that apology.
“No need to worry. I am sure this will be a formality in less than an hour,” I told them, if there was one thing that was in abundance on the planet Sky it was Interior and undercover commando trainees. I hoped this would probably be their most interesting case all month.
“So, would you care to explain how you are raising a human, that is also considered a military asset?” The agent inquired as she pulled out her slate.
“Of course, Klein surrendered himself and requested medical aid and refugee status. He was willing to answer essential questions regarding human culture that aided in liberating humanity into the Shil’vati Empire. He wouldn’t be safe on Earth anymore, and I mentioned that he was still important in writing my reports. If I had my slate, I could give you the relevant documentation,” I said in a conversational tone, without any of the emotions that weighed the story, and glossing over the specifics.
“No need. I have everything you submitted to the Interior, including his asset designation, the interrogation transcripts, and even his doctor’s contact info. To be honest with you it’s the only reason we haven’t interviewed you yet, even after a dozen calls about a ‘possible trafficked human’ since he arrived. Your information is corroborated with several other departments. The issue now is what the medivac scans found.” The agent pushed a slate towards me with medical notes bolded for emphasis ‘probable severe abuse’.
“The report shows a recent history of blunt force trauma, abrasions, and even muscle tearing, in short. It looks like the human has been systematically tortured for months. You also have recently requested restricted training armor in the human’s size.” The agent explained.
Ah, that was my mistake. I had been treating Klein as another child, just with some unique needs. It looks like there were other considerations, ones that I failed to see.
“I really do need my omni-slate to illustrate this, it’s on my desk right now if one of your assistants could get it?” I asked, hoping they got the suggestion to not leave me with only one interrogator in the room so they wouldn’t be graded too harshly.
They thankfully acquiesced without comment, and with my omni-slate in hand I pulled up the latest video of Klein practicing with me, the speed and brutality was difficult for me to sit through. Then, Klein pulled off his helmet seconds later, laughing in the rain. Unconcerned that, without armor, we could have just killed each other- I was grateful he had, else it might’ve been interpreted quite differently. “The bruising mostly from everyday participation at a Rakiri gym, and some remnants from before I got proper gear for baton practice. He heals extremely fast, and more so, he isn’t happy unless he exercises for at least an hour or two a day.”
I pulled up another video. Klein was sitting at the table bouncing his leg at an ever-increasing pace while trying to focus on a decently complex equation. He finally stood up and started pacing mouthing words as he skipped in time to an unheard rhythm.
“W-what’s he doing?” The agent asked, looking just a tad disturbed by the display of what seemed erratic behavior.
“A sort of dance while playing the song ‘a fine mesh net’ on his headphones. There was a monsoon that Shel weekend, and even I’m not crazy enough to fight in a thunderstorm like that. He does that around the house for an hour, and then finally settles in on a video game,” I explained to the agents, who were looking at me dubiously.
“So, you oversee an adolescent who is an intelligence asset, but also seems poorly fitted for Shil’vati life. Why the baton practice? Wouldn’t that make him even more dangerous, more of an outsider? Are you trying to sabotage his integration? Why not take him shopping, instead, or teach him beauty and self-care routines?” They were antagonizing. Countering every argument to see how I reacted. It seemed they could at least interrogate decently well.
“I hardly call a few quirks ‘poor fitting’. The baton practice is for obvious self-defense. Its intention is to make him dangerous,” I explained, letting the interviewers lead the conversation.
The back and forth went on for a while, but I presented a highlight reel of the last few months. Including a Rakiri gym video when Klein tried to flourish a wall climb and smashed his shoulder on the ledge while face planting into the mud.
The agents would not be arresting me today. They would need medical reports, and would require Klein, Hario, and Compassion Through Deeds to attest while truth scanned that these were sports injuries, and not some conspiracy to commit torture. We were also going to need to see an ICAD agent every two weeks for counseling. I had no idea what ICAD was, but I would investigate them later.
Finally, the agents appeared they were closing up the interview. I tried not to brace myself as they asked the complicated question. “One thing we need to know is, what is Klein to you? If he is just a crucial asset, then why haven’t you contacted a local volunteer family foster? Or was the military asset just a cover to find a male heir?”
I sighed, the truth wasn’t incriminating, but if I didn’t word it right, I would look like the worst sort of military tourist. “I had, originally, taken care of Klein as a key intelligence asset. Within that first week though, I had found that despite the decades of preparation, there wasn’t a process for someone to claim asylum as a child during first contact. He would be in military bureaucratic limbo without an advocate. We both know where he would end up.”
The room cooled by several degrees, which was a pity, I almost got the talkative agent to laugh at Klein’s antics. “Out of duty I investigated ways I could bring him home until I could find resources to place him in a stable situation with all the resources to help a xeno without a community. I found someone who was willing to help in exchange for reports on Klein’s adaptation to Shil’vati lifestyle. That’s Klein’s purpose as a military asset in my home.”
I continued. I was saying more on than I needed to, but if they did a follow up investigation later for some other incident, which was a when, not if, then I wanted this on record. “Klein has become part of this household though, despite, or maybe because, of his oddities. He may not be Shil’vati, but he seems to have integrated well. It’s why, while it was never my intention, when he is an adult, I will offer him full adoption, and title of home guardian.”
I watched the agents exchange looks, then the agent made a few taps on her slate. ‘Upper left, middle center, probably a message app’. I then listened for the telltale taps of a yes as a micro expression of a self-satisfied smile crossed the agent’s face. I decided to stop playing interviewee.
“So, you won the bet on if I would claim the human as my son, how long has that pool been building?” I asked folding my hands together.
The agent answered before she could think. “Two months… Wait!? How did you-”
The agent was cut off by the squawk of the slate’s speaker. “Agents you did well enough with the interview portion, however; you absolutely failed to secure the subject. Could you please illustrate to them why I stressed caution {petal of death’s veil}?”
The code name wasn’t one I had heard in decades, but I wasn’t going to snub an old handler. I kicked on my fast reaction mods to max speed and lunged over the table past the still sitting agents. I pirouetted and twisted the restraints into a loop as I brought them down over the left agent’s head and pulled back carefully, lightly touching the chain of my restraints around the neck of the agent before she could even react.
I kicked off my mods and caught my breath as time returned to normal. Both agents’ eyes went wide with shock as the one not about to be strangled tried to get away to pull out her weapon. “W-who are you!?”
“I’m going to slowly release you and put my hands up, is that everything you needed {hated old friend}?” I directed my question to the slate, using the code High Shil word to show I was playing along.
“More than enough. Agent! Holster your weapon and come back to the safe room. We need to go over security procedures,” the slate responded, and the very brief confrontation was over.
The agents walked out, and Siltan stomped in looking like she could bring about a thunderstorm by pure force of will. “We weren’t the only ones to get visits from the ‘majesty’s’ Interior today. Cee let me know that the Interior is also interrogated Reqellia as well.”
I now understood why these two rookies were here. It was a distraction for me. I grumbled as I picked up my slate and called Reqellia. Her face appeared a second later.
“By the Deep, it’s been a long day,” Reqellia breathed out as I heard a door slam, then she cursed some more.
“Tell me everything. Is Klein ok?” I asked.
“Cee says he’s fine and is waking him up. Klein might be getting a mod himself before she closes him up though because, oh- looks like it’s my day is going to get longer still. ICAD is here, and it’s a Hydrean in a Gearschilde clinic.” Reqellia hung up, and I stared at the phone in confusion.
It was time to find out what ICAD was.

Klein:

I blearily came to, as high powered, piercing white light flooded my half open eyes. I tried to move my arm to shield my face and found I couldn’t. Actually, I couldn't move or even feel anything from the neck down.
I started to panic as I turned my head, focusing on lettering on a terminal, tried to sigh, and felt what few muscles I could control turn to lead as I sank back on the medical bed. Thank the goddess, it was Shil and Gearschilde lettering on the slate and medical supplies.
“Good afternoon Klein, are you okay? Your heart rate spiked.” I heard Cee, or full name Compassion Through Deeds, speak and turned my head to see her. She wore a dark red lab coat and regarded me with unblinking cybernetic eyes. Most of her orange skin had been replaced with dark steel etched with stylized waves and swirls of silver. Her face still emoted in a pleasant smile, but had that uncanny valley look of unblemished synth skin. I looked down to see a dozen micro surgical tools still inside me.
I should have been screaming at the sight, but all I felt was relief and joy. “Yeah, I just worried for a half second that I had hallucinated the last few months and was actually on a back on Earth on some black-market operating table getting my kidney stolen.”
Cee was aghast. “Does that happen on Earth?”
I would shrug, but again, I couldn’t move, instead I responded. “Rumors of it happening, but I never knew anyone personally.”
Cee reassured me. “Well, good news Klein, you are on Sky, you are in a Gearschilde clinic where stealing vital organs is a legal, moral and religious crime of unrepentant severity. What I have done is remove your appendix, and let the sedatives wear off so we can discuss what you want in its place.”
“In place of my appendix? Why?” I asked, it wasn’t like I really needed the vestigial organ turn internal hand grenade.
“Customary in Gearschilde for surgery is to be about giving a better life than just taking from the body. So, any ideas of what would make your life better?”
I thought about the bruising, the constant having to put healing patches on, and the annoyance of doing so. I thought about the near fatality of almost blowing my appendix, and if something could have fixed the issue before it got out of hand. “What about a healing dispenser? I keep having to put on patches and gel at the end of the day, and if I miss a spot, I will pay for it later.”
Cee gave me a grateful expression. “That’s a perfect first implant. I was worried you were going to ask for something more aggressive. When I was your age, I got my first defensive mod, a retractable forearm knife. Of course, my next surgery was being stitched back together after accidently stabbing myself with it.”
I tried to chuckle, but I didn’t have control of my diaphragm for it. “So, what’s next?”
Cee explained. “Well, the fabricator in the other room is right now creating your implant. It shouldn’t take long; are you ok being immobilized for the next hour or so?”
I thought about it, and honestly, I was still surprised I wasn’t panicking. “No, but I’m going to get really bored just laying here, do the Gearschilde have any good myths or stories?”
I knew I was fishing in an untapped pool that was guaranteed to have something. I wasn’t expecting my doctor to be gleeful at the thought though. “Oh blessed be you child, I am a surgeon priest, half the reason I am in this vocation is to tell stories. I take it you know nothing about Gearschilde mythology, or even our history?”
It was on my list of rabbit holes to get into, but instead I binged the rest of Prince Of The Stars and cried, it was nice. “No, but I would love to hear them.”
“Well if you want to, every Shel we have open services and brunch. But since you are new to Gearschilde mythology we should start with one of my favorites. The story of the Hopestrider.”
The ceiling lights dimmed, and the sterile operating room felt surprisingly cozy as I leaned my head back. Listening to Cee starting up the tale. “Our sect requires us to lead what can best be called ‘child technician classes’. Learning to take care of machines, which includes us by the start of adolescence, if not before. It’s a critical life skill, and teaching it is considered an important part of our religious studies.”
‘Cyberpunk VeggieTales’ Squirrel brain chittered.
No one wants your opinion squirrel brain. I thought back.

Cee’s story: Hope Strider

“Long ago our world was full of harsh life. The valleys were often filled with poisonous mists and deadly predators that could rip apart even the strongest of our people. The mountain kingdoms were brutal fiefdoms that sent many to their deaths mining precious metals from the dangerous wastes of the valleys. Drilling into the heart of the mountains provided the power necessary to purify water, and later, steam engines turned those fiefdoms into empires. Expanding into the wastes using the lowest class of people as its foundation.”
Cee paused for dramatic effect. “Then, everything changed.”
“The ground shook, and the mountain kingdoms erupted in fire and molten rock. Radioactive dust from these now volcanoes made the centers of civilization barren and deadly. Only the wasteland colonies in the poisonous mists provided any refuge, and so king and commoner alike huddled in the once disposable outposts of a ruined world. Our story starts a generation after the calamity with an unlucky child.”
I heard a ding, Cee stopped as the ceiling lights came up. “Oh dear, let me stop for a second to get the implant.”
I leaned back and thought about her nightmare world. When Cee returned, I didn’t even bother to open my eyes, too engrossed in the imagery of the story. “What happened to the child?”
I could hear the whirring as she started to work. Her voice I realized had taken a more scripted cadence. She must have automated her voice so she could focus. “In a metalworker’s home, a child was born with broken legs and brittle bones. It was common in those days for such a child to die that way. It was their first born and the parents did everything they could to save them. A surgeon was called. The child lost their legs, but kept their life.”
“The child lived in the workshop. Kept warm by the hearth’s fire, even unable to walk, they were curious. Day in and out, they watched their parents construct machines that helped the community make food, filter the air, and defend the homes from the starving, mutated, monsters that circled the fortress walls. The child felt helpless though. Only able to crawl within the confines of the home or be carried around like cargo about the maze-like town of winding stairs and narrow passageways.
“They spent much of their time learning, sitting near the hearth to keep warm, they did the careful work of filing gears and wheels needed to control what could be automated as each hand replaced was another that could be spent doing something else critical to keep the community alive. Still, the child wanted to do more. They could not deliver what they made, and had to rely on others to help them at every turn in life.”
“Little did the child know that in the hearth a machine spirit lived, getting by eating scrap metal that fell in and sleeping at night on the bed of embers. The machine spirit saw the child’s wish, an invention without form, and turned it into a dream for the child, since new machines would mean new machine spirits to play with.”
That night the child saw themselves flying over the cold gray landscape on a pair of machine legs. Traveling the dangerous paths to other towns, and giving the isolated towns hope and community. The child awoke with joy and crawled over to his workbench littered with scrap metal, now children….”
Cee stopped talking and her voice went back to an unscripted rhythm. “I just realized we can’t do the practical part of this story. In class each kid gets a hope strider stuffy with snaps to attach legs they make. We give them bits of copper. Show them how to bend and hammer it, and how to bond it by wrapping the joint in solder and then applying heat with a soldering iron heated in their own toy ‘hearth’ with a safety cover. Still we get a daily small burn or cut, but that in itself is a valuable lesson in tool safety.”
It sounded adorable in a weird, steampunk way. “Sounds fun, so, new legs?”
Cee got the que, as much as I loved the story, and the talk about kindergarten metal shop, I was still immobilized on the operating table. I heard surgical whirring, and the scripted voice came back. “Yes, the child works all night until they fit the new legs on, and for the first time stand up on their own! The parents are overjoyed as they watch them move about the house and that afternoon, with the help of an iron bar as a cane, they walk around their community by themselves.”
“However, it isn’t long before the legs start to see wear and tear, but the child persists, not wanting to stop and fix the creaking joints, until one day the legs stop working altogether and they fall down in a twisting staircase. Carried back to the workshop, they rest for days to heal before they are able to work again. Constructing a new set from the remains of the old. Now…”

Klein:

Cee stopped again, but this time she had moved away from me and was putting the now bloody surgical tools into a sanitizing system. “We're done! I am going to start removing the nerve blocks, so you’re going to be sore, but if things get too painful, let me know. Please, try not to move anything but your hands right now, even then I would advise against it.”
My whole body had that pins and needles feel and I tried to move my fingers, but it was sporadic and jerky. Cee distracted me by explaining my new implant. “So, this implant is very basic. It can only be requested to send diagnostic data. The implant only administers more healing serum at a safe, steady rate if, and only if, it doesn’t detect any in your bloodstream. There is an injection site with a color change circle around it. It uses standard go, caution, stop colors to let you know if it’s functioning. I want to wave your omni-pad over the site and check the diagnostics at least once a day. It should hopefully catch if something like this is happening again.”
I tried to not move as I felt my body twitch. My gut felt like I had been run over, repeatedly. I asked, “why didn’t my medical monitoring implant catch this?”
Cee explained. “That’s only good for basic vitals. Near universal indicators of life and activity such as heart rate and blood pressure. The new implant will be able to scan for elevated protein counts. So, if one of your other internal organs starts to malfunction you can get a more unambiguous message that I hope you won’t ignore before getting medivac’d through the city.”
I chuckled a little at that, and it hurt. “Ow, ok, no movement. I thought it was just a pulled muscle or something.”
Cee looked down at me sternly, and her voice took on a deeper, more authoritative tone. “Child, more than enough Gearschilde have died thinking they can just, push themselves past their organic parts failing, if you have a torn muscle that hurts after you’ve used healing gel, then it’s serious enough you need to come see me, or another xeno-doctor, immediately. That’s why I hope your new implant can fix things before it gets to that point.”
Cee brightened after that and went back to the explanation of my implant. “Now that I scolded you, there is a color changing circle over your implant’s location. It will change color when the healing serum runs low, or and will start to flash in color, and try to ping your omni-pad if it detects a malfunction. The implant uses a standard Shil’ implant autoinjector, and it will reject anything not meant for red blood standard biology, but still be careful, it’s not a perfect filtering system. Today I’m giving you a set of autoinjectors I want you to use throughout the week. It's fortunate that your implant’s primary function will speed up your recovery time.”
Ok, that’s cool to know, but.
‘What happened to Hopestrider?!’ Squirrel brain demanded.
“So, the story, what happens next?” I asked as Cee helped me sit up. My stomach still hurt, but the feeling was in the overworked muscle category rather than a gut punch.
Cee started to explain as I put on what was essentially gym clothes. Soft, baggy pants and shirt with easy pull away tabs if they needed to remove the clothes quickly for checkups and surgical intervention. “Well, we don’t have time to go over the Hope Strider as a story, or even a summary, but if you want to, my husband teaches the child technician class during open services on Shel, you could sit in and listen.
Right now, I will give you a family crafted picture book that tells the core story of Hope Strider growing up, and making their first delivery. After that it’s a loose selection of legends that are attributed to Hope Strider as they grow older and more accomplished, but while I get that book, I need you to speak to someone.”
Cee led me out of the operating room, and into a comfortable looking lounge where a… Hydrean was sitting in an Imperial business uniform reading an omni-pad. My brain pulled everything I knew of Hydreans out. A rabbit hole I had dug into one rainy Shel on the public information repositories.
She, they, single gendered I reminded myself, looked up and smiled at me calmly, mouth closed for politeness. Their skin was grass green with artful patches of bark on her face and neck, the result of cosmetic scarification. They looked human, or Shil’oid, but that was purposefully done. Even the somewhat standard looking ‘desert walker’ Hydreans normally had more, or less, limbs than standard. Biological modification was at the root of all Hydrean technology, ancient as the stone ax to other species.
I thought about how contentious Hydrean/Shil relationships were said to be. Their arid home planet was off limits to all but certified personnel who had been trained how to handle the dangerous mix of flora/fauna that instead of being different groups, was just a single taxonomy that had no distinction between predator and prey. With their complex biology, a Hydrean needed to undergo extensive body modification just to exist off their home world.
Cee left the room with a friendly goodbye and offered assistance “Hello Klein, I am Ka’tel. It’s wonderful to meet you. I am with the Imperial Child Assistance Division, or ICAD. My job is to help interspecies fosters and adoptions. How are you feeling today?”
I caught a glimpse of her teeth as they spoke. Triangular, and made of burnished metal meant to tear off chunks of animal, plant, or even rock, whole and let their stomachs’ mix of acids dissolve it into something the rest their body could use.
‘The agent in charge of your welfare is a plant/animal hybrid with a diet of ‘yes’, your doctor is a wholesome orange 40K mechanicus, and your crush is a were-lion, you are not ok .’ Squirrel brain remarked.
“I’m actually pretty good, despite the surgery, it’s actually a common issue for humans.” I said to Ka’tel, because my life was weird before the aliens, squirrel brain was just being a pessimistic asshole.
“Really? Do you know what caused it?” Ka’tel asked.
“It just, happens? Gets irritated or infected and then you need to get it removed.” I said nonchalantly. Ka’tel made a mark on her omni-pad.
“How did you know? It seems dangerous if it can happen suddenly, and you mentioned it before you passed out.” Ka’tel asked tone friendly and conversational.
“Oh, the side of your stomach hurts. I was hoping it was just a pulled muscle bec- Dammit!” I just remembered what happened before I woke up here.
“The raid game! Ko’tasa would have had to substitute for me and she’s not well balanced for our team mix.” I said with a exasperated sigh.
Ka’tel cocked their head to one side, but the tone in her voice was humorous. “You were willing to ignore a possible life-threatening condition for a game?”
I explained, though I felt idiotic now. “I couldn’t tell. I get sore muscles all the time from gym, and sparing, and even from the auxiliary work, honestly my commandant doesn’t really know where to put me sometimes. Last week I helped with road clearing for the new town to go up a few [miles] away, and the girls could barely keep up with me.”
Ka’tel seemed to be enjoying my rambling. “Sounds like you really get put to work.”
“Not really? The auxiliary is the only work I do, and if I wanted to stop I just, can. It’s not like I need to worry about buying food.” I knew what I was saying seemed strange while living in the Imperium.
It was the first hint that Ka’tel was controlling her expressions when she seemed more attentive and… relieved? “That’s delightful news to hear! Is there anything about your living situation that bothers you?”
I paused and thought about it, and really couldn’t see anything. “Not really?”
“Anything, or anyone, you miss from Earth?” Ka’tel asked, stressing that last bit, dropping a mental bomb on my head and I froze, mouth partly open with a half formed response. When was the last time I even thought about Earth as more than an abstract concept? It hadn’t been [six months] since I left but…
I didn’t feel anything.
The last year I lived on Earth, it was like being a ghost. I saw people, I even talked to people, but it was like a thick plate of glass all around me. Today I felt color, and life, and things, but that last year on Earth?
Like radio static.
I looked at Ka’tel, and their expression was one of controlled neutrality. Why was I not freaking out?
I had a sensation of the room spinning. I asked, “No, I don’t really feel anything about Earth, is that normal?”
“I don’t know Klein, by most sentient standards what you went through was unusual, and from what little I know about humans that isn’t propaganda, it’s unusual for humans as well. What I do know is right now you seem happy and healthy, and that’s my top priority.” Ka’tel said as they stood and offered me a stiff plastic card with their contact details on it.
“We will be chatting every other week to see how you are adjusting. I might ask to visit you at the youth auxiliary depot, the gym or at home. I really am glad to see you are doing just fine, but if you ever need a way out, that card has an emergency signal function, just pull the plastic tab.” Ka’tel told me, and was about to open the door before I spoke up.
“How should I refer to you?” I asked, and once they realized, Ka’tel gave me a genuine, toothed, smile that was both menacing and goofy at the same time.
“Most people don’t learn enough Hydrean biology to ask. Her, that’s how everyone in the office sees me, and it’s more convenient socially.” She said, opening the door to an anxious looking Itaro standing next to a serious Ruhal and Reqellia.
“I need to speak to you Ruhal, and Reqellia, you should join us for this conversation as well.” Ka’tel said as she ushered me out.
Cee led us into a gaming room with a long table on one side, and a set of couches facing the wall to wall display on the other. She handed me an overloaded plate of cookies with bottle of water, and stepped out, closing the door behind us. “Eat those, your stomach has healed, but it’s going to need calories to fuel the recovery.”
Only then did I realize I was salivating at the smell of warm sugar, and flour made of Kasan grain, if I was identifying the green color correctly. I put the plate of cookies on the table, and snarfed them as I sat down.
After swallowing the fourth cookie semi-whole, I looked up to see Itaro’s face fighting a war between impatient, apprehensive, and hopeful. I stopped, realizing what I was doing, and sipped some water to stall for time.
I was about to pull my omni-pad out from my pockets when Itaro suddenly put her hand out to stop me. “Wait! Klein, I need to tell you something…”
She was silent for a long moment, what was she worried about?
“I… Like you, as, I find you…. Attractive, and I may have gotten a little…. overprotective when you got hurt.” Itaro said, her voice stuttering.
‘Oh, that makes things easy.’ Squirrel brain was for once, right.
“I like you too.” I said as I leaned over and kissed her.

///// Author’s Commentary

Wow! I couldn’t find a good stopping point so I just kept writing and writing and… It turned into something over 5 thousand words. I spent the last day trying to figure out clear up a few parts. This week I have some time off! So there will probably be another chapter sooner rather than later.

submitted by Adventurous-Map-9400 to HFY [link] [comments]

2023.04.01 01:21 Adventurous-Map-9400 Growing Up Alien Chapter 17

Chapter 17:

Thanks to the author of Alien-Nation for editing this chapter!

Ruhal:

Klein:

Cee’s story: Hope Strider

Klein:

///// Author’s Commentary

submitted by Adventurous-Map-9400 to Sexyspacebabes [link] [comments]