On this day I received a so called "text message" that read, and I quote, "yo (sic) dawg (sic), lets (sic) get sum (sic) 40s and hit the beech (sic)." It is perhaps unnecessary to relay that I defenestrated the accursed contraption forthwith, nearly decapitating a street urchin. Lamenting the uncultured state of affairs in which we find ourselves, I chanced upon this esteemed forum. It is impossible to convey my delight in discovering this bulwark against the degradation of our once majestic language by blackguards and the hoi polloi. I hope it will not seem boorish to submit myself for membership to your esteemed club. I shall bring my finest smoking implements and a collection of my most refined vinyl for the Victrola.
##Noun
Mirth
- The emotion usually following humour and accompanied by laughter.
- That which causes merriment.
^wiktionary || ^merriam-webster || ^dictionary.com || ^etymonline
He’d been cooling his heels in a security booth for about five minutes when the Marshal from earlier stepped in and dismissed the MP that had been glaring malevolently at him the entire time.
“I see you’ve got my omni-pad,” he noted absently, drumming his heels against the legs of the oversized chair he'd been handcuffed to.
Which was less than ideal, but far from an unexpected outcome of his little tirade.
“You dropped it as you were being escorted off stage,” the imposing woman responded simply, her many medals glinting in the overhead light.
He shrugged. “You mean it flew out of my hands when your oversized gorilla back there tackled me?”
Which hadn’t been fun. Anymore than being frog marched backstage was afterward. His only solace in this situation was that the shouting from the crowd had only gotten louder after he’d been tackled – and that technically the law was on his side here.
He’d checked. Repeatedly.
Unfortunately for him, he was also tempering that knowledge with the knowledge that the law tended to warp around people of privilege and power. He’d like to have said that was a purely Imperial thing, but he had a feeling it had been just as true in the days of old Earth as it was now.
“I have no idea what a gorilla is, but I can assume from your tone that it wasn’t a complimentary comparison,” the woman noted dryly.
“You assumed correctly.”
The woman chuckled a little at that as she eyed him oddly. For his part, he simply stared back.
“You aren’t what I expected,” she said finally.
He shrugged as best he could while handcuffed to his seat. “It’s true, I’m even more devilishly handsome in person.”
It was funny, less than a day ago he’d never have been as flippant as this with even a lieutenant, let alone a Marine Marshal. Yet now that he was no longer a soldier… he felt… free.
Free to be as annoying as possible.
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t reveling in the sensation. Or that he thought this wasn’t a terrible idea. Or that he would stop because of it.
It was just too damn cathartic!
The woman restrained her action to a small snort. “No, I don’t think that was what I was referring to – even if I don’t disagree. I’m referring to your psychological profile.” She flitted through his omni-pad. “Your previous CO’s all seemed to think of you as a study in contrasts. A man who was happy to knuckle down and work. Outwardly respectful. Understanding of the chain of command. Yet with a propensity for independent action that was… conc
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---Acoustics---
I walk through the Hydroponics Hall, a hovertray floating at my shoulderlevel.
The air in here is extremely refreshing… there is also a tranquil glistening of bright light off the surface of the nutrient rich water which trickles past the roots of the ship’s crops.
It really is a shame I can’t spend prolonged periods in here… well, I could… if I were prepared to visit Dr Gato and receive a stern telling off for allowing myself to receive a toxic quantity of oxygen… best not(!) I have things to do anyway.
I still find it absurd that deathworld crops would grow so fast that they actually raise the oxygen to levels toxic to most gardenworlders!
I can’t help but be a little jealous of the Triple Ms… they can spend as long as they like in here! They describe it with words like ‘energising’, ‘invigorating’ and ‘restorative’!
I exit the pretty room and begin making my way bowward, along the wide corridor of the ship’s neck.
I take a moment to glance out of the Portside windows and then the Starboard. This is an enormous hangar… I never would have tolerated the docking fees to rent this space, preferring to conduct any business from orbit via shuttle. Ludicrous to think that the Terran military are just… giving the time in this hangar away… Lt. Loper essentially wrote us a [carte blanche]… the only qualifier was ‘within reason’!
We might have struggled to find an authority willing to even take surrendered pirates off us in gardenworlder space! The situation never really came up before Terrans crashed onto the scene! If pirates attempted to board you, you either got away, killed them all or, far more likely, were all killed by them. The scenario of pirates surrendering just… never happened! As a result, no planet’s legal system was equipped to handle it! We would likely have been told that there was nothing they could do as they only had the jurisdiction to enforce laws on their planet, in their local system and on their ships! An out of system ship engaging and surrendering pirates in open space was not processable…
That… might be less the case these days… Terran behaviours have a habit of inveigling themselves into those of other sp
... keep reading on reddit ➡Alien-Nation Chapter 82: Entente
Hello all. Work has been busy, I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long. I'm aware this chapter isn't quite in straight-chronological order, but this was done by design- I have to cut back a few minutes when I jump to Elias's perspective- and more on that at the end. For now, I hope you enjoy this chapter. [Hi kids, do you like violence?]
"You may not have any reason to trust or believe me, but I need your help.”
Amilita knew the voice well from studying his propaganda films.
“And why should I help you?” The audio tape device continued whirring, and an answer was not forthcoming. Amilita realized it was just a recording, not a live signal.
“You may not believe helping me is in your best interests, and will reject my offer out of hand. But consider my deeds so far: I have executed traitors to mankind’s best interests, spoken nothing but truth in all my broadcasts, and have killed a predatory governess who trafficked children, a slaver by any other name. I performed the deed of killing her with my own hands, as would you if she had taken your own son, and then providence gave you the chance to make vengeance where time could never restore what was lost.”
Amilita had to admit he was right. Nothing would have stood in her way if anyone had kidnapped her son. She glanced over at the static hologram on her desk. Her son had just turned five, and he was opening presents while surrounded by his sisters. She watched the image change to one of him reaching for a fruit on a vine while riding on her husband’s shoulders, both of them smiling warmly. But…how had he even known she had a son? Adopting those new communication protocols at the base was looking wiser and wiser, even if they’d led to the disaster today. The chances of a sympathizer were low, but she’d seen women do a lot of stupid things to win over a male.
“*I am not a monster, Lieutenant Colonel Amilita. I am a man of my word. So when I say that I wish these hostages to be returned unharmed, and that I will honor any agreement we come to, you know that I will
... keep reading on reddit ➡First | Previous | Interlude VII [1/5] | Interlude VII [2/5] | Interlude VII [3/5] | Interlude VII [4/5] | Interlude VII [5/5] | Next
---Veterans---
The Triple Ms, Shings and I stand in an open town square, nearby Bahari ya Kaskazini.
Terran security being what it is, Dr Zunberi wouldn’t have been able to collect us from there, so this is the agreed meeting place.
I look around at the others, all dressed in a fashion they call ‘smart-casual’… aptly named!
I can imagine them socializing at a gala or relaxing in their Commonroom in these clothes.
Even the Shings have emulated the style.
It almost makes me wish that R’qali wore clothes!
I’m sure that any outfit I attempted to fabricate to match this style would look ridiculous; for the combination of clothes already looking extremely unnatural on my species and the fact that I’m sure my mind wouldn’t be able to reproduce the subtle nuances of it, the way theirs effortlessly seem to!
I have to settle for having a slightly nicer sash for my welfare devices.
For a [nanosecond] earlier, I considered digging out my old medals to pin onto it but… well, Msia has told me that the one whose house we’re visiting is a veteran of the opposite side of the same conflict… it would probably be in poor taste!
Plus, all of my medals amount to ‘congratulations for not dying’… not really anything to be proud of!
I also believe that displaying medals might not be conducive to the ‘casual’ part of ‘smart-casual’.
Just then, a clear tube with an ornamental conical nose, ornamental swept wings and a single occupant sweeps, near silently, over the square before dropping to touchdown in front of the group.
Nkasiogi Zunberi throws open the access door, smiles and says “Get in, nerds! We’re going to dinner!
... keep reading on reddit ➡Previous | Interlude V | Next
---University---
We pass through the entrance to the enormous university building.
The floor of the wide, high-ceilinged atrium we cross is the same phosphorescent patterned rainbow as the outside.
It feels that no sooner have we gone in than we’re outside again out onto a… courtyard?
Of course! Terrans and R’qali both share a fondness for courtyards, though not for the same reason.
R’qali appreciate buildings with courtyards because it can allow for more convenient access to the outside, meaning that, if you need to fly somewhere, your time to take off is reduced.
Humans seem to value them for almost the opposite reason… the ability to have a space outside, that is protected by walls from the many, many, many threats of their cradleworld… I don’t believe they ever coexisted with aerial creatures that might have threatened them (unless you count disease bearing insects, which can also get inside, and… wasn’t there an island in their southern hemisphere where Humans coexisted with a gigantic eagle that hunted kwaratlike, massive landbirds until Terrans hunted its food source to extinction and it died out too?… I wonder if the natives of New Zealand built courtyards…)
Most other species look at courtyards as a waste of space, there’s outside outside, afterall! Why would you bring it inside and not use that floorspace for more building?
I’m glad Terrans and R’qali share a similar design aesthetic. It makes visiting their worlds much more enjoyable than visiting the drab, functional, boxy cities of concrete and glass that are ubiquitous across so much of the rest of the galaxy.
So few species appreciate the art of architecture, city design, ship building and similar disciplines!
Having crossed the courtyard, we make our way into the Reception, back onto that multicoloured patterned floor.
Msia speaks to the receptionist “How goes it this evening. I’m Dr Msia Zunberi, here to see Dr Nkasiogi Zunberi, with my crewmates and Captain, to make a delivery to the Deathworld Faunal Taming and Domestication Research department. We’re not delivering these two, though, just the ones on the trolley(!)” he gives a wink.
The woman raises an eyebrow at him, the Shings sti
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---Coconuts---
Passing between the gates to Bahari ya Kaskazini, in the dusk of the Zanzibari suns-set, reveals a thrumming street, crowded and bustling with activity.
I stare, apprehensively at the throng of Terrans, all artfully weaving between eachother in a way that looks like it should be inducing dozens of collisions a second… yet isn’t.
Victor catches up to me, Fluffy at his other side. Behind him are all of the other Triple Ms, a hovertray with a climate controlled box of tumbling mirklets on it and the Shings, who insisted on seeing the sights.
I look again at the crowd, then up at Victor.
“Cap?” he queries.
“I’m… just a little worried… about the possibility of… being trampled… I wonder… if it’s not too much to ask…?”
He chuckles “Is this you requestin’…?”
“Yes! Laugh it up, Victor! Your Captain is requesting [uppies]!”
He giggles like a fledgling but, wordlessly, bends down and places his hand on the ground, making a ramp of his arm.
I climb up to perch on his shoulder and he stands, lifting my head to around [3m] high.
From this height, I have a commanding view of the multitudes of Terrans.
The majority, of the Humans I can see, look like they are of the same extraction as Msia but about a third of them look to trace to other origin locales of Earth. Here and there, I spot AI avatars, Resurrectees and uplifts: there’s a feline, that’s a canine couple, he’s… a Denisovan(?), that one is a simian, a droid chatting with Human friends… It really is startling the variety of sapients that owe their existence to Humans’ desire not to be alone!
I look out to the ocean… It’s thoroughly breathtaking.
This was a nonlifebearing planet, before the Terrans got here, so adversarial to life that it hadn’t produced any. The polar oceans were what allowed them to settle; desalination allowed the verdant bands to be irrigated to support Terran crops and, the increased evaporation, created cloudcover which cooled the poles to the point that they could be inhabited, as Msia has explained to me since we've arrived.
I know that utility is beautiful, in its own way, but… that ocean is also beautiful… aesthetically… independent of the vibrant community it allows
... keep reading on reddit ➡Read Chapter 1 Here
Previous Chapter Here
Sixty Chapters! How did it ever come to this?
****
For something as huge as the Space Truck, Jessica was honestly expecting more noise. It was dropping slowly, a fat arrangement of cubes that would eventually be another floor for the hotel with a tapered nose hanging off one side and the cylinders of engines hanging off the other. The whole arrangement looked to be the size of a football stadium and would barely fit on one of their two landing pads. The whole situation was just... bizarre.
When Jessica first ran here, sure that her life was over, she never would have guessed what the future had in store. After a long "job interview" (really more of an interrogation by Inspector Chel'xa and Commander Rem), she was offered the position of Facility Coordinator. They needed someone who could run the Hotel, take care of the housing needs for the security people, keep everything in budget, and generally serve as a buffer between Sammi and the marine contingent for non-security purposes. Jessica wasn't technically qualified for all that, but it was such a unique position that anybody would have to figure it out as they went and, well, she was available.
Now she was part of a rapidly-growing enterprise that was funded by Shil'vati military contractors and seemed to be building low-tech telescopes and a resort. There was more going on that she didn't understand but Jessica was just happy to keep her head down and make ten times as much money as she was in Denver. Plus her boyfriend was just down the hall!
With everything going Jessica had really only been able to meet with Askel for a quick dinner a couple of times, but they had been texting pretty much non-stop. The whole dynamic was refreshing; every other boyfriend she ever had would have been pestering her for sex by now but Askel was willing to go at her pace. Or maybe she was going at his.
As the dust blew around the huge space ship and it settled onto the pad, Jessica couldn't help but grin. One of those boxes was hers. Her own apartment, to her exact design. An entire third floor of human-sized rooms was being added to her specifications. They had asked what she thought the facility needed, and when she gave them a list, they just nodded and signed off on it. Sammi, Ayen, and Commander Rem
... keep reading on reddit ➡_________________________________________
Leo
When everyone was off the Icarus Leo kept the introductions relatively short because he was going to be a little busy today. The first thing he asked was Fel to take him to the weapon that Tei used, because it was something that he wanted to see for himself given her description of the runes. Which is how he found himself in his testing room with a dozen or so large crates from the Venomara vaults, some left outside as they were too large to be brought in.
Although Leo was intending to only inspect the item before leaving to deal with the captured dragons and whoever they sent to negotiate for them, his mind was currently stalled at the enchanted sword that Fel gave him.
The sword was a double edge, gold and silver, three foot long, and overly ornate gilded blade. It was the definition of extravagant with runes covering the entire thing, but these runes were vastly different from the ones that he could make. Unlike the smooth shapes that faintly glowed blue, these runes were sharp and rigid shapes that had a yellow tint to its glow, and if he didn't know any better they seemed to almost resemble Celtic runes.
The runes didn't have any sort of visible connections, which was just further proof that it worked off an entirely different system, but that is not what caused his jaw to hang as he gawked at the inscription on either side of the blade.
[Take me up]
[Cast me away]
‘Is this thing what I think it is?... No… No… That's just not pos-’ The thought was interrupted by Fel.
“I assume by that shocked look on your face, that you know what this is? It was a pain in the ass to fight against, I was only lucky that he didn't have the scabbard.” Fel questioned curiously.
Leo looked up from the blade with unbelievably deep disbelief written across his face. “Does that scabbard heal or prevent wounds by any chance?” He inquired as he struggled to keep his jaw from hanging open.
She raised an eyebrow at the question. “Yea, from what my grandfather's story says about it anyway. Is it from your world? I thought it didn't have any magic.”
He looked back down at the blade with his mind struggling to comprehend the implications of what he was holding. “I thought so too…” He trailed off as his restraint from fully gaping
... keep reading on reddit ➡Captain Annabelle Weber, now Fleet Commander Annabelle Weber, had been just about to fall asleep when she got the alert. Hostile forces incoming, assemble the fleet in forty minutes, have it out of Luna by fifty. A monumental task, but luckily she'd smoothed things out with the Captains before the operation had been necessary.
They'd reduced a chaotic process involving hours of scrambling technicians, officers, engineers, soldiers, and scientists to one that took only one. Granted, it had taken months of drills, but now, she was thankful for it. Though they still hadn't been able to meet Luna Command's fifty minute bench mark, they were out in seventy.
The Vinarii ships were also moving to reinforce the human fleet. Patching together who would go where and serve what purpose was also an exhaustive task. Annabelle changed her 3d holographic display of the system and current ship locations to show a side by side view. The Vinarii ships were marked with blue, while the human ships were marked with green. The opposing fleet was of course marked in red. The humans and the Vinarii were using laser communications since the incoming fleet had jammed quantum communications.
"Do we know what type of aliens are on that fleet, or where they come from?" Annabelle asked.
"Not yet. They've changed their trajectory several times, and we only can track their FTL wakes at this moment. The light lag is 4 human minutes," A Vinarii captain said from a nearby ship. The Hive Queen was within the Luna Command bunker with the rest of the human leaders from Luna. Across Earth, Luna, and now Mars, shields were up covering most if not all of their surfaces. A shame that Gaia wasn't allowed to just wipe out fleets anymore on a whim. Annabelle thought that Luna Command was playing with fire on that decision, but it wasn't her call.
The approaching fleet was identified. Annabelle was shown a picture of the aliens that were attacking. She started laughing.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Ship Leader Teehbiel was currently viewing the progress of his fleet into the Vinarii occupied system by the two holograp
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---Disclaimer: this issue contains discussion of fictionalised, bigoted ideology and slave trading. If either of these things will upset you, please read no further---
---Light breaks---
I’m lying down…
I open my eyes, already knowing where I am.
I see Dr Gato… he looks, different? Clearer somehow?
“Where’s Victor?!” I say, panicked.
Wordlessly, he extends a, six fingered, paw to the foot of my bed.
There he is beside Qorak, asleep on a bedside perch, my hero!… My brave boy… sleeping in a chair, bent such that his head rests below my feet.
Feet?
I raise my right leg… didn’t my right leg get cut off? And Victor's hand? And my left eyes were gouged out?
I look to Gato “You saved my life.”
He curls his tail in negation.
“I saved his life. Your injuries were so severe and your constitution so frail that I was ready to pronounce you beyond help… The Shings saved your life… it seems Terran medicine has a heavy emphasis on trauma… though, I can’t imagine why(!)”
“Was that a joke, Gato?!”
“Perish the thought... Anyway, the Shings stabilised you and MacLeod built you a prosthetic leg and eyes and advised the Shings as they attached them… it took her only [an hour] to design them from scratch… Apparently, fixing the damaged ship ‘burst the dam’ and now Kwijj and Sha’anza are frantically telling anyone who’ll listen that she’s ‘gone full Terran’ in her engineering… Victor had to go into the regen tube… he was not happy when he woke up and saw his life’s collection of scar tissue wiped away. I managed to keep my head attached to my body by explaining that it was the only way to save his life and reattach his severed hand… You, unfortunately, would have died from being placed in a Terran regen tube… hence the prosthetics. I have no clue why you would make sure we had one for Terrans but not for yourself… so you’re stuck with the prosthetics until we can make port, for longer than a week, somewhere with a R’qali appropriate regen… or you buy one for the ship... Also… since the ships’ AI was restored people have been noticing that it has been somewhat strange…”
“Strange? Strange how?”
“Strange like this!” chirps the Computer’s voice, cheerfully, over th
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---Rest---
*pit**clink**pit**clink**pit**clink* is the sound that my natural, left foot and new, bionic right make as I cross the Balcony outside Triple M.
That door is already fixed… The one that Fluffy and I tore through, destroying it!
I think I’ll have to add Maintenance to the, ever growing, list of staff who are getting raises after our recent run in with Terran pirates. To think that they were able to repair all the battle damage while we were voidside!
Ms. Tuun objected when I revealed how much I intended to increase her pay but… not as much as she did at her interview… there was no haggling. It seems that having a devoted friend group and a loving partner is helping buoy her estimation of her worth.
I cross the threshold and make my way to the Commonroom.
The door opens to reveal one very tired Don, one very tired Sahas, one very tired canine and four very tired Humans all in various states of repose on the furniture around the [coffee table].
There are four in the room, however, that don’t fit this mould: There is an excited Zunbe… no… Msia! They’ve all insisted I’m to call them by their first names or epithets… it’s taking a little getting used to. Anyway, he’s looking out the bowward window for the moment we come into his home system. It’s quite sweet. Apparently it’s been some time since he last saw his family and home, by means other than a holo projection.
The second and third who aren’t a picture of exhaustion are the wall-mural version of me and a roaring Fluffy, whom I’m sat astride, charging down a mountain with the setting sun of Earth framed behind me. Msia has painted a bone crushingly heavy looking suit of armour onto me, morphed from its original, Terran appropriate, shape to fit a R’qali body plan. On my back there is a second set of entirely ornamental wings. My right talons heft a lance, that looks like it would mass more than my body, with a red and white banner, streaming in the imaginary wind, attached just below the tapered spearhead. My beak is open and my face is fixed in a fierce, silent battlecry… I ought to find that mural very flattering… somehow it’s a little embarrassing… Is it because that Tcakqaal looks like
... keep reading on reddit ➡Hello there everyone, here is another chapter bringing entertainment to your collective braincells. For your collective reading pleasure, I have a crash course on FTL in the SCU. The SCU uses warp drives to create a bubble of warped space around their craft enabling them to travel faster than light without breaking any laws of physics inside their ships. This warp travel's speed is dependent upon the class of warp field that a ship can generate, a top-of-the-line cruise ship like The Shining Knight with its Class 1 drive has a maximum real space velocity of around 5,000c. while this may seem incredible, it would still take The Shining Knight well over a year to cross just the 4,500 light year core of the SCU and close to three years to cross the entirety of the SCU. This is due in large part to ships needing to stop to refuel their reactors every so often, a ship like The Shining Knight has no internal refinery and enough fuel to safely travel about 14 days at maximum warp. many ships like Captain Filch's Arctic Heart have speeds of only around 3,500c but much higher fuel capacity. Anyways, Please Enjoy.
+ Prologue + Previous + Next +
I have Been Awarded a Wiki Page that I am currently fleshing out HERE.
______________________________
Chapter 19
Sweet and Sour
Jessie was standing in his new room on board a starship. He had been on ships before of course, but now he was part of the crew. This was exciting, with a pang of sadness in his heart he wished his momma could have seen him now. Flexing his cybernetic forearms at the unpleasant memory he sat on the edge of his bunk.
The Shining Knight, as he had learned it was called, had large rooms for a ship of its size due to its birth as a passenger liner. This made for very pleasant crew accommodations, he had a decent sized room with a large closet and a personal bathroom with a low intensity shower and multispecies toilet. He was thinking about his choice in decor and how he should go buy some furniture to spruce the place up when he heard a tapping at his door.
Standing quickly, he walked to the door and pressed the
... keep reading on reddit ➡This is a step away from the typical happenings followed by this series. I was inspired by a comic I found on Youtube. The original artist was not credited, and the original title was not revealed. I can only hope to honor the trope here, and build upon it. I do not personally believe that this counts as plagarism, but rather I am proceeding under the impression that this is an instance of art inspiring art.
With that, onto the story.
---
[From the Archives of Digitalia]
Troa looked up to the sound of a bell as a familiar figure entered her shop. Entering through the door was a tall blond human with blue eyes clad in plate mail. As the human looked around at her shop filled to the brim with monster heads, magic items, and trophies of all kinds, Troa greeted him warmly.
"Lord Leap, wonderful to have you back. How went your quest?"
Leap looked to Troa and smiled wanly. "It was fine."
Troa replied, "Do you have some monster goods to sell us? Or is there anything else that I can offer you?"
Leap looked down, sorrow written over his features. "No, nothing today."
A moment passed, but before Troa could fill the silence, Leap spoke again. "I... I was wondering if I could have a word with you in private."
Concern filled Troa's eyes. "Of course. Speak freely."
Leap shook his head. "Not here. Outside. I have to show you something."
Troa straightened back from the counter, a little surprised. "Oh, no, I couldn't. My mother would be furious if I left her shop unattended."
Leap took Troa's hand. "It won't be long, Trexa, I promise. Please, it's important."
Troa, touched somewhat by his earnestness, relented and stepped from behind the counter. "I could never say no to you, Lord Leap. But if my mother catches us, you better have that sword ready."
The armor-clad human again smiled that mysteriously sad smile and opened the door for her, following close behind.
The moment that Troa exited the shop, she was greeted by a sight that left her jaw slack. She drew her dagger and stepped forward, confident that Leap was right behind her. She shouted to warn everyone in earshot: "The Legion are attacking!"
Before her, milling nonchalantly around the town square, were Trolls, Goblins, Warhogs, Gnolls, and every other undesirable faction that made up the Legion. They stood there with absolute conf
... keep reading on reddit ➡Previous | Interlude | Interlude II | Interlude III [1/3]| Interlude III [2/3] | Interlude III [3/3] | Interlude IV [1/2] | Interlude IV [2/2] | Next
---Disclaimer: This story may be triggering to people who suffer from simple/complex anxiety and/or PTSD. Please read on at your discretion. I didn't [] Tcakqaal's use of 'hell' because I thought it would break emersion, know that she is using an equivalent of 'hell' in the abstract sense, not actually referencing the Abrahamic afterlife of torture---
---Loneliness---
---[13 years] BF (Before Fluffy)---
The galaxy… is vast!
It contains fourteen billion terrestrial planets, of those, half are lifebearing, of those, one in a hundred are currently host to a permanent sapient population, of those, only a little over thirty thousand are cradleworlds of sapient species, of those, one… is a deathworld.
Lightyears separate stars! The size and quantity of objects that can move through the void without being detected is immense!
This was a lesson my polity, the Galactic Union, learned hard… all too recently!
Around [20 years ago] we discovered that our society had been cohabiting the galaxy with another domain…
This wasn’t the normal First Contact situation, where we’d find a species bound to one planet, maybe with a few extrasolar colonies!
They had a territory that already made them the most numerous single species in the galaxy.
Hundreds of planets and 1.7 TRILLION souls!
And they’d been hiding… right under our eyes and, yet, in the last place we’d look for them!
On deathworlds!
Worlds where the gravity is high enough to crush our silicate
... keep reading on reddit ➡---Ailurophobia---
“So…?” I start, hesitantly.
“I’m not a Terran?” Tuun asks, matter of factly.
“Well…” uncertainly, drumming my talons against my perch, I decide to err on the side of caution. “...are you?”
She gives a mirthful puff of air through her nostrils before taking a moment to think.
“It’s true, I’m not a Human, nor have I ever set foot on Terra… Nor, for that matter, have I ever been within 50 light years of the Sol System… Despite that…” she breaks off here.
I prompt “Despite that?”
She seems to pluck confidence from the aether, in a very Terran fashion “I would consider myself Terran, by upbringing, Ma’am. I also completed a full certification at New Tromsø University, on Nova Fennoscandia, making me a fully qualified Auxiliary Security Officer.”
I immediately have half a dozen questions but manage to decide on one to start with. “What is your species and homeworld, Ms. Tuun?”
With decidedly deathworld confidence, she answers “I am a Don, of the planet DonOlu; it’s a tidally locked, Class 9 roughworld, in proximity to the Crab Nebula. It also has a highly isolationist culture, hence your unfamiliarity with it and with the Don.”
“Roughworld?”
Taylor answers “They’re planets that straddle the line between gardenworld and deathworld. Threats to life present but nothin’ so egregious as to make the planetary classification nerds shi… mess themselves. Sapient roughworlders ain’t as rare as sapient deathworlders but still pretty rare. Maybe a dozen in Known Space.” he glances at Tuun “That about the size of it?”
She nods at him and smiles with just a hint of purple in her cheeks. “Just so, Mr. Taylor.” Her tone makes it clear that she’s unused to others’ familiarity with the classification.
He mirrors her smile.
Breaking these two from their staring contest, I ask “So… if it’s not an overly personal question, how did you come to have a Terran upbringing?”
A pained expression flashes over her features for just a moment, before she collects herself. Taking great care with her words, she starts “I was born around five years after the Galactic Union’s Great Consignment Agreement; wherein, the Terrans were given settlement and development rights for all the Galaxy’s deathworlds which had, thus far, been considered unsettlable. A year after that, the Nova Fennoscandian colo
... keep reading on reddit ➡A Single Ideal - Part III
The Alderean ship’s hatch opened and the two ambassadors – one Alderean and one Human - stepped out onto the Rhea station, in orbit over Saturn. A Gorandi in a cold suit awaited them, her ursine face lit up into a ferocious grin as they approached. “Amara,” she exclaimed as she swept the human up into a bear hug. Hearing Throc rattle his upper tentacles in amusement, she put Amara down and stepped back. “Ambassador Throc,” she acknowledged, bowing her head slightly.
“Ambassador,” Amara said with a smile, “This is the lead Gorandi scientist, Saralin. Her mate is the assistant station manager here on the station.”
“Lead scientist?” Throc asked.
“Oh yes,” Saralin replied, “We have a team of five. Our xenobiologists are working with the Humans studying the Hu’a. I and another are planetary specialists.”
As they walked into the station, Amara and Saralin chatted amicably.
“Well,” Saralin said, “Here we are, the main observation platform. I will let you two have it.” She turned to leave.
“Saralin, wait please,” Amara said. She turned to Throc, “Ambassador, our contacts with the Hu’a are few. If you do not mind, I would like Saralin to record any contact for future study.”
Throc rubbed two upper tentacles in thought. “Typically, we expect privacy in these matters,” he paused, still rubbing his tentacles. “However, given the nature of this contact and the unusual circumstances, I believe it will be acceptable,” he paused again. “There are some requests that I must make.”
“Saralin and I agree to sign a non-disclosure agreement covering any materials you deem sensitive,” Amara said. “You will retain the original recording and can edit any information you find necessary in our copies.”
Throc rubbed his tentacles as he spoke, “Yes, I think that is acceptable.” He lifted his tablet from his belt and started looking for an NDA. He started typing with two tentacles as he stepped through the doorway and onto the platform. Looking up, he gasped – tentacles stiff – and dropped the tablet. He glanced at Amara who was watching him with a small smile.
“Yeah, it’s like that,” she agreed. “Come, step forward to the rail.”
The observation platform was a transparent bubble on the side of the station. Beyond, in the inky blackness of space, its rings stretching across the view, was Sat
... keep reading on reddit ➡As she stepped out of the docking tunnel into the main hall, Gree’sha was a bit overwhelmed by the mass of people in the brightly shining spaceport. For an empathic species like she was, it took significant focus to filter out all the raw emotional energy in a room this large and full of people. Getting her mental barriers up, she took a moment to get a look at the place.
This was, far and away, the nicest port she had seen since she left her home world. When the thought crossed her mind, she was hit with a sense of loss. The nuclear exchange of the previous century had destabilized the environment so badly only thin bands of land around the poles were able to sustain agriculture. Things had gotten particularly bad since her youth, so she decided to take her daughter, Jinya, and find somewhere they could make a better life for themselves.
Her journey had taken them over six months so far, and along with the whole gamut of negative reactions to her and her species, there was a danger unique to her people. Her species, the Deroli, were considered the most desirable slave species in the galaxy. Their innate ability to detect the emotions of others, combined with their physical attributes that almost all humanoids found highly desirable, meant they were prime targets for slavers of any stripe.
Her people were not without their countermeasures, however. Most of them had learned to use their skills to manipulate others and get what they needed, or wanted, from them. Some even took it as a sign of superiority and manipulated others as they wished. The results for their victims were at best a minor loss of credit slips, sometimes complete financial or emotional ruin, and at worst both.
The actions of those that acted such ways had cast a pall over her entire species. Everywhere she went she was met with distrust, suspicion, and oftentimes anger and revulsion. At the same time, however, underneath those surface emotions, there was almost always a smoldering attraction present if the other party was intimately compatible.
With so many of her people fleeing their planet, they quickly gained a reputation as homeless wanderers if the observers were being charitable, or thieves and con artists if they weren’t. Generally, she and Jinya were viewed with suspicion and distrust. Even when people tried to be polite on the outside, she could still tell how they felt about her on the inside. That was the part that hurt the most. Over the past six months, she had been cons
... keep reading on reddit ➡Hansen watched as the Peak Performance entered an orbital path around the Horsecrab station at a distance that placed both the station and the ship out of range for either superstructure’s potential weaponry.
“Disengage the weapon systems that face the station and have the fighter patrols limit their flightpath to the outer orbit side.” Hansen instructed his bridge officers.
“Incoming communique from the fleet, Commodore.” The Comms operator reported in.
“My station.” Hansen replied as he took the seat behind the command console.
“Welcome back, Commodore.” The senior captain of Alpha Fleet greeted him from the display.
“Thank you, Franklin.” Hansen returned the salute. “Did we miss anything interesting?” he deliberately struck up a casual tone for the report.
“A couple of Squid ships have tried to enter the system. All of them were either incapacitated or convinced that pursuing the station was counterproductive.” Captain Franklin summarised as the reports trickled in on Hansen’s terminal. “No casualties on the Alliance’s side.”
“Hm.” Hansen nodded as he glanced over the munitions expenditure sections of the reports. “Dallas?” He raised his head to catch the eyes of his XO as she faced him from her position at the navigation terminal. “Have our stores of S.H.I.T Heads distributed to the fleet to make up for expenditures. I want all ships at eighty percent stores.”
“Immediately, Commodore. I’ll have the fabrication bays refresh our stores asap.” Dallas gave a quick nod in confirmation and headed to the logistic stations.
“That is appreciated, Commodore, I really wasn’t looking forward to ordering a catering enforced resupply.” Franklin didn’t hide his gratitude. “Morale tends to take a dive when the ‘Seafood saturday’ protocol is enacted.”
“I get that, Captain,” Hansen sighed, “I really do.” He added, mostly to himself before continuing: “Maintain the safety perimeter and have the scouts relay observations from the other side of the star. We don’t want to be surprised again.”
Franklin
... keep reading on reddit ➡The gelatinous form across from me seemed to swell. "You lied. You said you were human."
I frowned at the metallic sphere to my right, the universal interpreter. "We are. That's what we've always called ourselves."
The form intoned again, and a few moments later the sing-songy voice of the interpreter rung out again. "To all other races you're known as Demons. A ruthless species that once ruled over all before mysteriously disappearing."
I shifted in my seat. The device had never malfunctioned before, but it was a machine. It had to have that potential, right? But it was strange that it was giving seemingly-accurate translations...if it were going to breakdown, it would probably say Monkey coniferous undulated crunchy or something like that.
"We've...um, we've never met another race before." I forced my lips into something that I hoped looked like a smile, and immediately wondered whether the entity across from me had any associations with smiling, and if they were positive.
When it began to vocalize again, I tried giving the metallic sphere a few subtle whacks with my hand, keeping my eyes on the alien. "The nearly extinct humans would disagree. As would I, come to that."
I gave an uneasy laugh. "Well, that gives us room for improvement, then, which is...good. Right? If we started off as best friends, then, there'd be...nowhere to go."
Translucent rods emerged from the gelatinous form, each one a vivid red. "This is not something to express mirth about, Demon. It is deathly serious. Your race is the only one known to perform purposeless violence, to kill indiscriminately beings at any point in the lifecycle, and, as if that were not enough, the only one to commit the act of translation error."
I tried to steady my breath, shooting an annoyed look at the interpreter. "I, uh, I apologize, but is there another way you could phrase that?" I gestured limply at the metallic sphere.
"Of course. The Demons are known throughout the galaxy as the only entities in all of recorded history willing and capable to practice the complete annihilation of other species, other races, and, indeed, to frequently do it for fun."
The aliens' rods were now a sickly green, and I wondered briefly if it was reflecting my mood back at me.
"...oh. Well, I...that's interesting. About the Demons, I mean."
"So, we come to this point. Neither of us know the origins of your race with 100% confidence. But I ask you, is it plausible, or even possible, that you are de
... keep reading on reddit ➡Part One / Part Two / Part Three
(Mild self-harm warning)
As Isaac continued to lead the tour with slightly more pep than before, I sat quietly, never leaving my seat nor speaking a single word. After helplessly witnessing a man get electrocuted to death only for everyone to laugh about his gruesome fate, my mind was largely numb, simply struggling to not replay the scene over and over on a loop. Even as Isaac shocked more unfortunate beasts into showing themselves while the tour progressed, I was a ghost among the jovial heathens, despite my heart thundering in my chest with each zap and subsequent cry of pain.
Additionally, Isaac’s satisfied grin as the rich man convulsed and cooked burned itself into my mind like a brand onto a heifer’s hide. No matter how desperately I tried to rid myself of it, the image was a scar among my self-numbing brain. I merely wished for the tour to conclude, so that I could leave Isaac’s side without offending him. I feared what he would do otherwise.
Finally, after a couple hours, we left the open safari area and entered an exhibition known as the ‘Curious Wonders.’ From feeding and my notes, I knew the creatures housed here were of either the most unique or the most ‘entertaining’ variety. Still, I had not seen them all, as a few had hidden themselves among their décor during breakfast, but I knew Isaac wouldn’t allow them to hide for the patrons’ presence. More would be blatantly electrocuted, and I would feel my stomach curl into tighter knots. Inevitably, I would feel the cold claws of helpless compassion grip my soul all over, again and again.
Blankly, I stared as Isaac quickly showcased a snake with two heads and spiked scales that glittered like solid gold. I did nothing while he talked about two furballs which comically rolled and jumped like cartoons. And even as he boasted about the cat-ape named Ginko I had read about upon my initial arrival, I barely looked at the beast. None of them phased me. None of the strange, unique creatures ripped my mind away from itself, until we came to the middle of the division.
Instinctively, my eyes landed on its visage as it moved in my periphery from behind its glass
... keep reading on reddit ➡The bunny stuck its dessicated little head through a hole in the ground, peered hard and long at the dusty, barren fields surrounding it, then squeezed its body up and through, before hopping thirstily away…
Dozens more followed.
Through a spyglass, Popsmoll Wrencod watched them go. He would have to report this to the Chief knowing it meant the worst:
Uberlute Sadbard had failed.
Either the old storyteller had expired before reaching the summit, or, perhaps worse, his tale had proved insufficiently melancholic to coax tears from the Godstatue.
The rainless days would continue and the fields would bring no crop.
He turned, dejected—
"Are you certain?" the Chief asked.
"I am," said Popsmoll Wrencod. "I saw them hop into the horizon with my own eye."
"Then our times are arid indeed," said the Chief, and the gathered elders agreed, murmuring amongst themselves about the dreaded dustbowl days, of famine and death, of little ones hungry in the pits, their fingernails torn from clawing through the dirt searching for discarded beets. "Yet even then, in the deepest of the dustbowl, there was no exodus of drought bunnies. Burrowed, they remained."
"Rightly," said an elder, "for soon after, the mighty telltale Harpsichordian delivered unto the Godstatue the woesong of Klionimini, of her betrothal and betrayal, and of her death, causing the divine tears to well and fall, and for the most-bountiful harvest to begin."
"What then are we to make of the current exodus?" asked Popsmoll Wrencod.
"Uberlute Sadbard is dead," said the Chief.
"Is hope evaporated?"
"Nay. Drops remain, but they are few and boiling in the sun."
"Insufficient for the prescience of the drought bunnies," said one of the elders. "They no longer believe, and in this I am inclined to share their pessimism. It is time to migrate." He stood and left the gathering, with several trailing after him.
"Migrate? Abandon the protection of the Godstatue?" said Popsmoll Wrencod. "Such an act would be unprecedented. Forever have we lived here under its blessing."
The Chief sat in grizzled wisethink.
Uberlute Sadbard was the last of their storytellers. The others had all failed. Now he had failed. The drought bunnies indeed portended a fate worse than the dustbowl, and there was no one to ascend the Godstatue with a tale sad enough to move the towering divinity to cathartic precipitation. What could he do but decree migration?
And that is likely what would have happened if not for the bravery of a
... keep reading on reddit ➡Secret societies of human psychics called greys and invading aliens, aka what happens when the Shil'vati recruit the grain of truth behind the human myths of vampires and sorcerers.
Part forty-five: Paradox's, The monkey king, Hope and a plasma cannon
Nuria was walking with the commandant over what the locals called the sea bridge.
Honestly it was simply a holo-screen wall made to project and image of the seas outside as if seen through a window looking out of the cliff face, a cliff face that in reality was half a mile above them and a mile and a half distant.
“What’s troubling you Nuria.” Asked the commandant.
Nuria Tansa captain of the Temperance was visibly mulling over something, she had been since she left the chief engineer Saerahd’s office.
“It’s what she said, the Grey have no patience for failure or deception…. but they have lived in secret surviving via deception and guile for generations.” Remarked Nuria.
Commandant Tashanne nodded thoughtfully.
“I had a similar such notion prior to coming here and talking extensively to major Vrey about these people, not this tribe in particular but the people as a whole the species if you will because that is what they are…. a quasi-separate humanoid race, like comparing the common Turox to the homeworld’s Turagor.”
She said mentioning a relative to the commonly domesticated Turox that was larger far more aggressive and leaner but also extinct outside of captivity.
“To quote the major lying to someone’s face is unacceptable, bear in mind someone in this context means another grey or just another psychic, everyone else is fair game and they fully expect us to lie to them and only demand that other psychics obey or at least respect their code of internal honour, even lying through a telepathically controlled proxy is completely acceptable to them which of course also applies to things like letters and text messages too,” she remarked as Nuria sat beside her.
“Which is also why they prefer to deal face to face to them it’s a way of showing honesty and integrity, phone calls and video calls can allow a long-range psychic link so they are as good as face to face, but any form of recording however that is just the same as a letter or text message and lying is allowed.”
Nuria nodded, that made a lot of sen
... keep reading on reddit ➡Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
The growl resonated inside my chest like the bass in loud concert music. It was so deep that I could feel it vibrating my ribs, and it made my heart skip several beats. Both Ginko and I froze, her black fur and quills standing on end as the hair along my arms and neck stood straight. But, after a moment, I slowly turned around with bated breath to face the danger, instinctually knowing that keeping my back to it was not an intelligent idea. The instant my sight landed on the massive beast, my heart nearly stopped entirely.
A mere meter away stood the largest canine in existence, hulking muscles bulging under snowy white fur. The dire wolf’s shoulders almost matched the height of my own as it growled, its head low and teeth easily the length of my fingers bared. Coldly, its amber gaze locked with mine, and then it took a single, threatening step forward on a paw as large as my head.
In a black blur, Ginko quickly leapt from my shoulder with a resounding hiss and took off. Instantly, the dire wolf spun and gave chase, its pawsteps surprisingly quiet despite its enormous size. Reflexively, I shouted after them and advanced a few steps, fearing for the cat-ape’s life. Thankfully, Ginko was able to skitter up one of the nearby trees before the wolf could reach her. From its high branches, she hissed and futilely swiped at the beast below, but its attention rested on her for only an instant. At my defiant call, the wolf returned its focus onto me. Again, a reverberating growl rumbled in its throat, and it slowly stepped back towards me.
My heart simultaneously tried to race and stop beating altogether, unsure of which would be a better autonomic response in the catastrophic situation. My senses told me to flee, but my conscious mind knew that if I tried, I would not be as lucky as Ginko. I had now
... keep reading on reddit ➡First of all, a really big Thank You to u/Zander823, without whom this chapter would be a lot crappier. If you don't know him, now's the time. Hop in for a good treat.
Second of all, sorry for the long pause. The problem is that I'm too good at everything I do, and the only thing I do is procrastinate. Anywoo, I'm continuing this now, albeit by my time.
Hope you like it.
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I felt like shit. As I woke up, pain stung my whole body. I felt like I had been mauled and then tossed away by rabid dogs.
I sighed.
It hurt to breathe, but I forced myself to take deep breaths anyway.
Air in, air out. Air in, air out.
I looked around, recollecting what had happened. The last thing I remembered was falling down, and the giant snake. A dragon, maybe?
‘Man, dragons would be super cool,’ pondered a voice inside me.
I shook my head. There was something, jumping right there on the border of my mind, slowly slipping out of reach the more I thought about it. Like those dreams that are super-detailed and extra vivid, as long as you don’t wake up, after which it all fades to nothingness.
I had so many questions… I needed to know what had happened. I needed answers.
‘Isn’t there a way to call for someone?’ I thought, scanning the room, ‘What time is it? What day?’ my heart missed a beat at the idea of a coma.
I looked around for more than ten minutes, but found nothing that could help me, nor anything I knew how to use. Frustrated, I started ripping the medical devices off of me: The drip that was on my arm, the needle inside my vein, the electrodes on my chest, even that clothespin-thingie on my finger.
Hell, all that technology, and not a single damn button that read: “Press Button to Call People” on it!
As I tried to get up from the bed, slowly clambering to my feet, a flock of doctors and nurses and whatever rushed inside, transporting an… old, portable TV on a table with wheels?
Only as one of the nurses took out the pads on the sides, I recognized it as a defibrillator. When they saw me, they all relaxed, and the majority left the room, leaving only a doctor behind.
Maybe I imagined it, but I think I heard someone cussing at me down the hall.
“Good morning, Indestructible, I’m Doctor Sierra,” said
... keep reading on reddit ➡I don't want to step on anybody's toes here, but the amount of non-dad jokes here in this subreddit really annoys me. First of all, dad jokes CAN be NSFW, it clearly says so in the sub rules. Secondly, it doesn't automatically make it a dad joke if it's from a conversation between you and your child. Most importantly, the jokes that your CHILDREN tell YOU are not dad jokes. The point of a dad joke is that it's so cheesy only a dad who's trying to be funny would make such a joke. That's it. They are stupid plays on words, lame puns and so on. There has to be a clever pun or wordplay for it to be considered a dad joke.
Again, to all the fellow dads, I apologise if I'm sounding too harsh. But I just needed to get it off my chest.
Read Chapter 1 Here
Previous Chapter Here
Only two days since the last chapter and I'm already dropping another one. It's time to admit I have a problem. Is there an Author's Anonymous?
****
"Elera! Did you have fun last night?" Stace's grin was interrupted as Elera grabbed his head in both hands and pressed their lips together, shoving her tongue into Stace's mouth in a passionate and possessive kiss. A quiet cough from the chair next to the bed drew their attention and both of them looked over towards Askel guiltily.
"Sorry. I needed to thank Stace for looking out for me. You're the one that wrote that letter, correct?"
Askel's large green eyes widened and he put a hand over his mouth protectively. "No need to thank me."
Stace couldn't help it; he started laughing, and soon enough the other two were joining in. Once things settled down, Elera held out a fist towards the Helkam.
"Lieutenant Elera Heleum."
Askel made an odd, complicated clicking hiss sound. Stace noticed with interest that his tongue was forked and the fricatives in his name were oddly two-toned. "Since you probably can't pronounce that, you can just call me Askel. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Askel returned the fist bump, then picked up his omnipad and started tapping the screen. "I have a bunch of paperwork for you to authorize."
"Does it explain who you are and what you're doing here?" Elera smirked, but her eyes were hard and full of suspicion. Stace decided now was a good time for him to intervene.
"House Chel'xa hired him to... to take care of me. I don't know why, but Jel'si likes me. She said her brother hired Askel. He's a nurse and a ph... ph..." The damn words just stopped. It was frustrating.
"A physical therapist." Askel smiled. "As for why I was hired, I know there's a letter for you in the information packet I have, but I can't access it."
Elera pulled out her pad and Askel flicked a finger, resulting in a beep on Elera's end. She scanned it, then nodded.
"Can you read it to me?" Stace wanted to know more, wanted to be in the loop. With Elera and Askel both treating him like a real person, he needed to be a part of this. It was his life, after all.
Elera nodded, then shut the door.
"Should I leave?" Askel looked awkward, standing there and holding his pad in front of him.
"Nah, you
... keep reading on reddit ➡I'll be posting one update a day until HFY is caught up! In case you missed the previous topic:
--
A haunting, soulful melody echoed throughout the theater as Zamira reached the end of her song’s final chorus. Riardin’s Rangers stayed perfectly still and quiet, absorbing the experience in full until she’d finished singing the very last verse. As the remnants of Zamira’s voice faded into silence, swallowed up by the depths of the Party’s admiration, Rob found himself at a loss for words. He’d never had an issue with his own voice, but he felt that if he spoke now, his diction would sound like the mumblings of a drunken frat boy in comparison. Zamira’s performance was the most beautiful thing he’d heard in a long time, and like the rest of the Party currently sitting in the theater’s front row, he wanted to savor the afterglow and commit as much of it to memory as possible.
Unfortunately, from Zamira’s perspective, she’d sung her heart out and now her friends were staring at her without saying anything. Consternation crept into her demeanor as she tried and mostly succeeded to keep her composure. “Did I perform well?” She asked, her tone wary with a hint of dread.
The Party stood up in unison, clapping and cheering as they sang her praises. Zamira’s eyes widened, her mortification swept aside in an instant. A budding smile warred with pleased embarrassment on her face as if she were a kid at her first club recital. Rob knew that the Party would have clapped regardless of how well she’d done – and on a certain level, so did Zamira – but luckily, she’d knocked it out of the park. They didn’t have to fake a single iota of their applause.
And moreso than being treated to great music in a world where that was depressingly difficult to come by, Rob was overjoyed that Zamira’s hobby was being given the positive reinforcement it deserved by her friends. Riardin’s Rangers got along well with each other, but most of that was a result of trauma bonding rather than sharing mutual interests; partially because most of them barely had interests outside of growing stronger and surviving the next day. Rob wanted their friendships to mean more than that, and he wanted them to have something to live for once the fighting was over. When the dust cleared and the last of their enemies had been put ten feet under, they were going to need hobbie
... keep reading on reddit ➡Alrighty, things are starting to pick up now, Don't worry my intrepid readers, there is more action to come. But first, a bit of character development.
+ Prologue + Previous + Next +
_______________________
Chapter 4
The Feeling’s Mutual
Neirdith felt safe, not the kind of safe that lets you sleep at night, the kind of safe that allows one to truly let go and lose focus of their surroundings. After an indeterminate period of time Neirdith relaxed her arms and looked up to Skorr's eyes, seeing her move Skorr moved their hand and she stepped back from them letting one hand linger on their dark gray armour. Relishing the feeling of calm strength for just a moment longer she removed her hand and sighed deeply. While the powerful feeling was gone she still felt lingering traces of resolute calm inside her very soul. Standing straight and squaring her shoulders she stepped back far enough to look at Skorr's eyes more easily.
"I know we have an understanding, but we need to do something about the fact that you don't speak common. Why is that anyways?" Thinking about the way they had been partially buried inside a large amount of metal scrap she briefly toyed with the idea that they might be in fact older than the S.C.U. itself. But no, the S.C.U. was over 800 years old there was no way they would still be alive after who knows how much longer than that. 'Skorr is probably just from an unknown system, that's all' she thought to herself.
Looking back at Skorr she noticed their gaze on her and as they saw her looking the leaned forwards slightly and spoke in that same alien language, she clearly heard her name in it more than once but was unable to divine any meaning from it.
"Still don't get it." She said cheerfully while waving Skorr to follow her she walked over to the now quiet form of the former Captain Medrigil. Squatting next to them she said in a sing-song way "Wakey wakey captain."
The Yeown's only reaction was to scrunch up tighter.
'We can't have any of that' thought Neirdith with a frown, debating whether or not to kick them she settled on diplomacy. After all they were probably traumatized, she was a bit hersel
... keep reading on reddit ➡Bargain Bin Superheroes
(Arc 5, Part 1: Clara Olsen v.s. Social Media)
(Note: Bargain Bin Superheroes is episodic; each part is self-contained. This story can be enjoyed without reading the previous sections.
"As of now, you no longer exist." Frederick handed me a tablet, crisp suit rippling in the wind. "Congratulations."
Numbly, I took the device and scrolled through it. Wikipedia -> Clara Olsen: No results. Reverse Image Search -> Clara Olsen: No Results. National Persons Registry -> Clara Olsen: No Results.
"...I never told you to wipe my digital fingerprint," I finally said.
"You're not some indie superhero anymore, Ms. Olsen. You're backed by the government. We have more resources than you could ever dream of." Frederick smirked. "As you've had firsthand experience with."
I scowled. "Yes, and just like when I was on the run, you've somehow managed to misuse those resources to the point of counterproductivity."
"Misuse?" Frederick narrowed his eyes. "Ms. Olsen, during your tenure as a superhero, you were spotted unmasked on thirty separate occasions. Your identity—"
"Is a tool, like anything else." I folded my arms. "Back when I was still mayor, do you know how much free publicity the 'secret' of my nightly jaunts as a superhero got me? It has all the benefits of philanthropy without the icky connotations of virtue signaling."
"You're not a publicist anymore, Clara. You're a superhero."
"I'm both, and I always will be." I poked Frederick in the nose; as always, my passive empathy linked us at the momentary contact, sharing our emotions. He blinked, reeling back. "I don't have a flashy superpower like Death did or a kill-everything-in-a-hundred-mile-radius ability like Big Guns. The only thing I've got going for me is empathy. Connection. And to leverage those connections, I sort of need to, you know, exist." I paused. "So if you'd put those pictures back where you found them..."
Frederick grimaced. "It's not nearly as simple as that, Clara. Up until recently, you were the target of a smear campaign—"
"Oh, no, a smear campaign!" I put my hands to my face in a mock expression of horror. "What a shame! If only our friendly local quasi-fascist government had complete control over the flow of information in the Unified Sovereignties! You erased my presence from the Internet in a day; you can wipe out the last traces of that smear campaign if you want to."
Frederick pressed his lips together, displeased.
I grinned, though
... keep reading on reddit ➡Chapter 119 ???
THUD
The room was dimly lit, large and empty, a concrete box large enough for a low-born family and their dozen children to live in if they so wished. In the center, there were two people, a human and a maiden. They circled one another, equal in height. The man was at least twice the weight as the woman, his body sculpted to perfection, muscles tense and taut, his movements methodical, calculated, slow. There was a growing bruise right under the man’s right, just above his ribs. Dark green eyes stared at the maiden with coldness.
The maiden moved more leisurely. Red eyes wandered over the man’s sweat-addled chest, three scars adorned it, running from shoulder to hip. Vicious black things that made her senses prickle. She turned towards the four hooded figures that stood at each of the corners of the room.
“Do not pay them any attention.” The man spoke with a scowl, his brows lowered as his hands clenched into fists. “They will not interfere.”
She didn’t believe him, but that didn’t mean she had an alternative. She raised her fists, the dark blue scales covered her forearms, her hands closer to talons than anything else. Rushing in, she dodged his jab, the maiden’s closed fist punching upwards and into his sternum.
THUD
His feet lifted off the ground, but he did not fall when he dropped back down. Large, powerful hands grasped at her horns. With a grunt, his forehead barreled down against her own, the force of impact more than enough to send her a step backwards in confusion and pain.
He growled, wiping the blood off of his eyes, clenching his fists. “If you don’t fight me seriously, I will have to reconsider your potential freedom.”
The maiden scowled, opening her fists and revealing the wickedly black claws. Her draconic tail shifted slightly as she prepared herself. What would she do once he was dead? The door was exactly thirty steps away. Her main concern would be the species of the other maidens. She couldn’t tell what they were, and that could prove deadly in a fight.
“Don’t distract yourself.”
The man had approached, a powerful forward kick she instinctively sidestepped. He was wide open for her counter, claws swinging at his
... keep reading on reddit ➡Sweet, things are starting to pick up now, I hope yall are still enjoying this narrative. Please if you have any questions don't hesitate to ask. For anyone curious The Shining Knight is 122 meters long, not huge, but not a small ship either. Without further ado, and as always, Please Enjoy.
+ Prologue + Previous + Next +
__________________________
Chapter 8
Undisputedly Deputized
Neirdith was worried. Seth had not checked into his apartment after she left nor the following morning, she had checked because she had wanted to call him but to her surprise the attendant had told her he had not shown. Deciding to investigate further she then messaged the bar they had all been at and was surprised when they said security had carted her two unconscious friends off a little before 10pm local time. Next she called the precinct who redirected her to Briyn with no explanation, as Briyn’s voice finally exited from her assistant she blurted somewhat louder than she was trying to “Where is Seth, is he with you?”
“Ssseth, no. He wasss here but he left a while ago.” The large male groaned.
Slightly frustrated that Seth was still nowhere to be found she pressed “What was he doing there anyways?”
With a slight delay they answered “I had a note ssent to sssecurity to drag my sssorry platesss to my room if the bar called them, I guesss they decided to take Sseth there asss well, which iss a pity becaussse my guys put him on my couch and just dropped me on the floor, My entire left ssside is sso ssstiff, I'm not sssure I can even walk.” the Vinarfel said with a sad hiss.
Taking a moment to speculate on where Seth might have gone she decided to call the hotel he was staying at again, a drunken night spent on a hard couch was bound to leave him tired and achy. He was probably at the hotel, relaxing in a tub or something and not in his room. “Ok I understand, thank you Briyn for taking care of him for me.” she said without thinking, blushing as she realised what she had said.
“Oh Seth can take care of himself.” Briyn replied with a laugh before continuing in a knowing tone “But I’m sssure he wouldn't mind you, taking good care of him.” With
... keep reading on reddit ➡-----
Arnd ran her hands over her cheeks, using what little of her reflection she could see in the monitor. She understood why the prison wouldn't let its prisoners have mirrors, but that just made making oneself presentable a nightmare.
Mark appeared on the screen. "Good morning, Arnd." he said.
Arnd felt she could breathe again. "Hi, Mark." she replied, smiling.
"Anything interesting happen since I saw you last?" Mark asked, leaning back on his sofa.
"No, nothing, really. Just more menial labour and crappy food. You?"
A light seemed to flicker on in Mark's eyes. "The scouting party's left for the Men-te line, so with any luck, I'll be heading home soon!"
Arnd took a moment to respond. "O-oh. That's good." She swallowed without knowing why. "Anything more earthbound to note?"
"Closer to home, huh? Well, I did talk to F'ejen recently, but I'd rather talk about that in person... Oh, before I forget, I spoke to Jan'u a week ago."
Arnd leaned forward. "Yeah? How is he?"
"He's fine, but..." Mark breathed in between his teeth. "His sentence is two months. He wanted you to know."
Arnd's face scrunched up in confusion. "Two months? Why?! I'm getting out of here in a fortnight, and he's stuck for another seventeen weeks? That's bullshit!"
Mark could almost feel the guard's wary ears listening to Arnd's ranting. "I know. But hey, it's still a lot better than what either of you would've gotten."
Arnd sighed. "I know, but come on!"
Mark held up placating hands. "Hey, he's tough, he can handle himself for two months."
Arnd sagged, groaning. "Yeah... Anything else been going on?"
Mark agreed silently; anything to distract from that gut punch would be fantastic right about now. "Um... I've been in talks with the guys at Se'te's Forge."
An eyebrow shot up. "Oh? And?"
"They're open to taking me on as a coach!"
A smile crept across Arnd's muzzle. "I told you! Nobody's stupid enough to pass you up!"
Mark chuckled. "Yeah. I've still got some recovering to do before I'm back at one-hundred percent, but they've seen what I can do, and they know my technique's near perfect, so yeah."
"How is the recovery going, anyway?" asked Arnd.
*"Well, my abs don't catch when I bend any more, so tha
... keep reading on reddit ➡The nurse asked the rabbit, “what is your blood type?”
“I am probably a type O” said the rabbit.
“Remember, I will have no gawking or other nonsense during the tour,” Isaac sternly instructed as he drove us to the dock. “You will be silent unless spoke to. You will keep to yourself unless otherwise instructed. And you will take diligent notes throughout. Nothing more, nothing less.” From the corner of his eye, he leered at me. “Do I make myself clear, miss Holloway?”
My entire stomach was a mess of twisted, writhing knots. I already knew that keeping myself outwardly calm was going to be a challenge among all the fantastical creatures, but I would try. I had to remain cold and rigid on the tour just as Isaac constantly was. If I could prove myself worthy, I would officially have the job – which, in itself, was already proving to be awful, but the promise of shelter, warmth, and food that came with it were simply too good to pass up. And the cottage was quickly becoming like home to me. I couldn’t go back to living like I had before, homeless on the freezing, Oregon streets. I just couldn’t.
Steeling my nerves as best I could, I forced a straight face, turned my head to Isaac, and curtly nodded as I were a machine. “Yes, sir. I understand.”
In response, a satisfied smile cured his pale lips. Somehow, even when the thin man seemed genuinely happy, his expression harbored a sinister nature. “Excellent.”
After a minute of silence, we pulled up to the dock just as a yacht headed for us in the near distance. Isaac stepped out of the cart and ordered me to do the same. We stood stock still and rigid while the ship docked, and people began to file out – seven in total.
Four of them appeared to be couples, the women hanging off their husband’s arms as if they were snobby children. The three others appeared to be traveling alone, perhaps getting away from their spouses, as well as their businesses.
Immediately, their accumulated wealth became plainly evident. Each woman stood clothed in lavish, lacy garb of silken dresses with the occasional fur scarf. Stunning jewels encrusted their gnarled necks and fingers with golden bands shined to an almost blinding proportion. Meanwhile, the men bore specially tailored suits of the finest thread and watches I would not be surprised to know were made of solid twenty-four carat gold. Their
... keep reading on reddit ➡WE'RE BACK BABY! Ran afoul of Rule 7 (now Rule 6, apparently) issues when taking down the Book 2 chapters, but everything should be gucci now. I'll be posting one update a day until HFY is caught up. This chapter is split into two updates because it was 8500 words.
--
Diplomacy had been right. Goroth, after trudging off with his coterie of humbled Fiends, requested an additional day to make a decision regarding Rob’s offer. The Deserters were a bit alarmed by his lackadaisical attitude until the Fiends reassured them that the barrier surrounding Broadwater City would last indefinitely – or until the Blight figured out a way to bust through, but hey, hadn’t happened so far. If the Fiends were that confident in their defensive measures, bought and paid with a hundred lives, then the Deserters had no choice to play along until they learned more about how the spell worked. The barrier failing would kill the Fiends just as easily as the Deserters, so the former’s confidence probably wasn’t misplaced.
With nothing else to do except wait for the Fiends’ decision, the Deserters buckled down and got to work. Food was scavenged, Potions were brewed, and Firebombs were crafted. Without Elder Duran, breaking into the magic seal to Broadwater’s underground farms was impossible, but thankfully enough leftover preserved rations were found throughout the city to last everyone a good while longer. The Deserters may have still been trapped in a ghost town with Fiends inside and a Blight outside, but no one would starve within the month, so they had that going for them.
Meanwhile, Rob searched the rest of the city for a Locus of Power, and after a thorough exploration came up empty-handed. The discovery – and lack thereof – threw a major wrench into his plans, but unfortunately, it wasn’t something he could actually do anything to change. If the Locus wasn’t there, then it wasn’t there, and he wasn’t going to find another one around for miles. Otherwise, the Blight would’ve already absorbed it, and a second patch of Deadlands sky would be darkening the horizon. As a result, Rob found himself at a loss for what to do – which was perfect, because that meant he knew exactly what to do.
“We’re taking the day off.”
Orn’tol didn’t hesitate before replying. “We can’t,” he said, steadfast.
Rob tried to cross his arms and sighed internally after remembering he was still down a limb. An arm-cross where one was normal and one was floppy didn’t look anywhere near as seri
... keep reading on reddit ➡For once, as the old prince breathed in the moist air that blew inland from the Summer Sea, he could sense a faint sweetness instead of the bitterness of mortality.
His son had returned home, as had Lord Arys Dayne. Half the ironborn fleet had up and disappeared from their shores. Vaellyn had sent him a letter informing him of the younger son’s arrival in King’s Landing. And overtaken by his gratitude to the Gods, Ballabar Martell couldn’t help but smile on the morning that Sunspear would celebrate his heir’s homecoming. He hadn’t smiled in a long time, and the muscles pulling upwards felt queer on his face at first. Yet it was a feeling that he would gladly grow used to.
The Old Palace’s courtyard had been decorated with hanging silks and flowering vines and though the walls blocked out most of the sunlight that Dornishmen had to suffer every day, there were extravagant canopies set up, sporting both the suns and spears of House Martell, as well as the shooting stars and swords of House Dayne, no doubt the old prince’s way of commemorating Lord Arys’ loyalty and aptitude in bringing his son back home. Many had come from nearby and some from afar, but Ballabar didn’t particularly take note who had arrived. For once, he had arranged a feast out of sheer delight, and not for ulterior motives and chances to converse with people without drawing too much attention. For once he just wanted to sit back, enjoy the company and watch as his son shared in his mirth. Though Ballabar eventually noticed that he seldom allowed Silas out of his sight, and became worried when he lost track of him.
He couldn’t help but feel a little bit silly, then, looking after a grown man as if he were a boy. It was his curse, he supposed, this overt consideration he had for his children. Olyvar’s death and subsequent burial at Starfall had laid that upon him. Yes, Olyvar. A handsome young warrior, gone too soon. Just now he had almost lost another one, and he feared that feeling of grief would destroy him once and for all if he had to experience it again.
Once his steward, the young Andrey Jordayne, came to tell him that all the guests had arrived, Ballabar rose up from his cushion and lifted his hand in the air so that those present would see that he was about to speak. The old prince was a dark shape, still, though for this occasion he had dared to choose midnight blue as his robe’s color instead of complete black. “My… friends,” he said, seemingly searching his mind for a more ap
... keep reading on reddit ➡Alrighty, this should be a fun one to read, you get to meet a few new Species that you haven't gotten to see close up yet. And with that said, time for another tidbit of lore to keep yall interested. Today I will tell you about Glimmer Drorns, a Glimmer Drorn is a type of creature that is mostly gaseous with a thin membrane that gives them a roughly spherical shape, they float around and absorb sunlight and interstellar gas to survive. Almost butterfly-like behavior, they generally range in size from 15 to 120 meters and are commonly found in Interstellar gas clouds like nebula or proto stars. While their membrane is slightly iridescent, they are mostly transparent, being filled with ionized gas and smaller bubble-like structures containing metabolic compounds. they reproduce via budding. Anyways, Please Enjoy.
+ Prologue + Previous + Next +
__________________________
Chapter 13
Sightseeing
"Ouch." Creesh cried out as she dropped the box she had been attempting to move. Neirdith and Seth came running over to her and Samantha as she flapped her injured grasper while hopping around.
"Are you okay Creesh, what happened?" Seth asked worriedly as he reached her.
Neirdith's eyes widened as she saw her cut, it was small but welled with a slow trickle of dark green fluid. "Is your blood supposed to be that colour?" She asked worriedly.
"Yeah, that's normal, for a Swanith at least, you didn't know I had green blood?" She asked Neirdith.
Neirdith looked at her a bit sheepishly "Well I had read it somewhere, but it's different to see it in person ya know."
Creesh just rolled her eyes as Samantha tried to wrap a sterile bandage around her much smaller finger. "It can't be any weirder than you having bright blue blood, or Seth and Samantha both having red blood"
Samantha looked at Seth and said "Wait, you have red blood?"
Now it was Seth's turn to be surprised. Looking askance at her he replied "Yeah, Humans and Yeown have almost the exact same biochemical structure, it's what scientists call convergent evolution, that's why you can eat any of the meats that I can and vice-versa. You didn't get taught that in school?"
Saman
... keep reading on reddit ➡The winner of Round 0 Match 1 is Elliot, with a score of 70 to Finni’s 67!
| Category | Winner | Points | Comments |
|---|---|---|---|
| Popularity | Elliot | 14 (8.5+2)-16 (9.5+2) | Incredible turnout! |
| Quality | Finni | 20 (6 7 7)-19 (6 7 6) | Delibs |
| JoJolity | Elliot | 23 (8 8 7)-25 (9 8 8) | Delibs |
| Conduct | Tie | 10-10 | Keepin' it classy! |
Down. Down. The cold, murky water swallowed Finni as she was dragged into the depths, seawater clogging her nose and burning her eyes. She struggled with all her might, thrashing and kicking as his hands grabbed blindly for purchase, but the hooks' pull was inexorable—she was powerless against the full weight of the Mediterranean Sea growing ever darker before her eyes.
It was decidedly not in the spirit of Tag.
But suddenly, there was a surging of water beneath him, and with a thunderous crack the ocean above his face tore apart like paper. Finni gasped wildly for breath, coughing and spluttering and struggling instinctively for several seconds against the blue and gold arms that ripped him from the ocean’s maw; then, he flopped like a soggy ragdoll as he was carried back to the safety of the ship.
“Of course I heard the fight,” Savvas groused as he picked a fluffy blue scarf from around his shoulder, sounding thoroughly displeased with the whole affair, “Thunder couldn’t drown out the sound of the two of you. You’ve left me with a headache and a half to deal with fixing all this.”
“I apologize for the trouble,” Elliot replied, perfectly straight-faced as he passed a side glance towards the bedraggled, dripping heap on the deck, “I’m sure this youth has more than learned her lesson.”
“Hm.” Savvas scowled. (Though was that a smile he was fighting on the corner of his lips?) “Well, I have some calls to make and a shipment to make up for. I’d say that gives both of you about three minutes to get, before I think about chopping you up as fish food for the trouble.” His voice rose abruptly to a loud bark. “Out! Out with both of you! I’m getting too old for this.”
As Elliot turned to go, his sharp ears picked out Savvas’s voice from behind. “Send clean up to the main port; the Keraunos has been compromised, but I took care of it…No, I was not looking for a last minute suit.”
Scenario: Athens, Greece — 4:36 PM
The day of the Olympus Gala had arrived, and the guests had come aplenty—the fact t
... keep reading on reddit ➡Chapter 111 [Mark]
Mark looked at the Dark Elf as she grit her teeth; her eyes burned with loathing, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the door. His hand reached out to knock twice, and the bonded Dark Elf spoke. “Open up.”
“Done already?”
The fellow guard chuckled as she pulled the door open. “My turn yet?”
“Sure.”
The maiden stepped inside, a wide grin on her lips as she focused on the lump that lay under the bedsheets. “Wait, did you tucker him o-…?”
Mark stepped out of the room, Noah hot on his heels. Both of them saw the sword and keys waiting for their owner. Meanwhile, the armed guard heard them, spinning around with a frown, clearly confused by what was going on. Her lips parted as she attempted to speak, likely to trigger the spell that might paralyze them.
The attempt was thwarted when her companion tackled her from behind, knocking her to the floor. “I’m sorry,” the half-naked Dark Elf muttered, her eyes burning red-hot coals on the two escapees.
Before the guard could disentangle herself from her companion, Mark had closed the door, and Noah locked it, snapping the key to make sure it couldn’t be pulled out easily.
A heavy thud followed, and human and mouse glanced at the heavy door, waiting.
Mark sighed.
“Alarm’s going to be raised,” Noah pointed out, grabbing the sword and swinging it. The thing was almost half her height.
“We start running.” The human nodded, looking at the petite woman with some wariness. “Think we can trust the bitch’s directions on how to get out?”
“I’ve been here before.” She nodded, moving ahead and taking point. Her tail was stiff, her ears perked, and the maiden’s hand had a slight shake to it as she held the blade at the ready. “I doubt she’d want you around, probably going to be very happy once her bond snaps.” Stopping dead on her tracks, she took a good long sniff, tilting her head down to one of the corridors. “Blood.”
“Then not that way.”
They turned in the opposite direction, their rush down the wooden corridor coming to an abrupt end when Noah froze on her tracks. Her eyes widened, spinning on her heels and reaching out to grab Mark’s hand, yanking him exactly in the opposite direction they’d been running. “
... keep reading on reddit ➡The bunny stuck its dessicated little head through a hole in the ground, peered hard and long at the dusty, barren fields surrounding it, then squeezed its body up and through, before hopping thirstily away…
Dozens more followed.
Through a spyglass, Popsmoll Wrencod watched them go. He would have to report this to the Chief knowing it meant the worst:
Uberlute Sadbard had failed.
Either the old storyteller had expired before reaching the summit, or, perhaps worse, his tale had proved insufficiently melancholic to coax tears from the Godstatue.
The rainless days would continue and the fields would bring no crop.
He turned, dejected—
"Are you certain?" the Chief asked.
"I am," said Popsmoll Wrencod. "I saw them hop into the horizon with my own eye."
"Then our times are arid indeed," said the Chief, and the gathered elders agreed, murmuring amongst themselves about the dreaded dustbowl days, of famine and death, of little ones hungry in the pits, their fingernails torn from clawing through the dirt searching for discarded beets. "Yet even then, in the deepest of the dustbowl, there was no exodus of drought bunnies. Burrowed, they remained."
"Rightly," said an elder, "for soon after, the mighty telltale Harpsichordian delivered unto the Godstatue the woesong of Klionimini, of her betrothal and betrayal, and of her death, causing the divine tears to well and fall, and for the most-bountiful harvest to begin."
"What then are we to make of the current exodus?" asked Popsmoll Wrencod.
"Uberlute Sadbard is dead," said the Chief.
"Is hope evaporated?"
"Nay. Drops remain, but they are few and boiling in the sun."
"Insufficient for the prescience of the drought bunnies," said one of the elders. "They no longer believe, and in this I am inclined to share their pessimism. It is time to migrate." He stood and left the gathering, with several trailing after him.
"Migrate? Abandon the protection of the Godstatue?" said Popsmoll Wrencod. "Such an act would be unprecedented. Forever have we lived here under its blessing."
The Chief sat in grizzled wisethink.
Uberlute Sadbard was the last of their storytellers. The others had all failed. Now he had failed. The drought bunnies indeed portended a fate worse than the dustbowl, and there was no one to ascend the Godstatue with a tale sad enough to move the towering divinity to cathartic precipitation. What could he do but decree migration?
And that is likely what would have happened if not for the bravery of a
... keep reading on reddit ➡The bunny stuck its dessicated little head through a hole in the ground, peered hard and long at the dusty, barren fields surrounding it, then squeezed its body up and through, before hopping thirstily away…
Dozens more followed.
Through a spyglass, Popsmoll Wrencod watched them go. He would have to report this to the Chief knowing it meant the worst:
Uberlute Sadbard had failed.
Either the old storyteller had expired before reaching the summit, or, perhaps worse, his tale had proved insufficiently melancholic to coax tears from the Godstatue.
The rainless days would continue and the fields would bring no crop.
He turned, dejected—
"Are you certain?" the Chief asked.
"I am," said Popsmoll Wrencod. "I saw them hop into the horizon with my own eye."
"Then our times are arid indeed," said the Chief, and the gathered elders agreed, murmuring amongst themselves about the dreaded dustbowl days, of famine and death, of little ones hungry in the pits, their fingernails torn from clawing through the dirt searching for discarded beets. "Yet even then, in the deepest of the dustbowl, there was no exodus of drought bunnies. Burrowed, they remained."
"Rightly," said an elder, "for soon after, the mighty telltale Harpsichordian delivered unto the Godstatue the woesong of Klionimini, of her betrothal and betrayal, and of her death, causing the divine tears to well and fall, and for the most-bountiful harvest to begin."
"What then are we to make of the current exodus?" asked Popsmoll Wrencod.
"Uberlute Sadbard is dead," said the Chief.
"Is hope evaporated?"
"Nay. Drops remain, but they are few and boiling in the sun."
"Insufficient for the prescience of the drought bunnies," said one of the elders. "They no longer believe, and in this I am inclined to share their pessimism. It is time to migrate." He stood and left the gathering, with several trailing after him.
"Migrate? Abandon the protection of the Godstatue?" said Popsmoll Wrencod. "Such an act would be unprecedented. Forever have we lived here under its blessing."
The Chief sat in grizzled wisethink.
Uberlute Sadbard was the last of their storytellers. The others had all failed. Now he had failed. The drought bunnies indeed portended a fate worse than the dustbowl, and there was no one to ascend the Godstatue with a tale sad enough to move the towering divinity to cathartic precipitation. What could he do but decree migration?
And that is likely what would have happened if not for the bravery of a
... keep reading on reddit ➡The doctor says it terminal.
