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Even almost a week later, Yegel was still soaring on the hope from that day. A weight on his eyes that he'd never even noticed had been lifted, leaving him more alert and awake, the whole world more vibrant and colorful.
Of course, the morning after had brought clarity- and an additional helping of stress. Having had the time to calm down and examine it, he was realizing that the fact he now saw humans as people was dangerous- especially with such an important and dangerous screening coming up. If he accidentally sympathized too much in one place, or had a reaction that he would never have had before...
...He still couldn't bring himself to regret it though. Even the fading of his emotional high hadn't erased what felt like an important revelation- that he no longer thought of humans as predators with interesting quirks, but as real, actual people, with true empathy and sapience. They were still predators, still alien in ways he couldn't understand- but now, that didn't feel like the same kind of impenetrable barrier that it used to be.
Still, now he had to be even more careful going forward- regardless of it being the truth, nobody else would believe him about a predator species being fully sapient and civilized. If anything, trying to convince anyone would get him institutionalized- and he was already fighting far too hard to keep himself out of those nightmare-makers for as long as he could manage. At least with humanity being extinct, the topic was unlikely to come up, but he hadn't made it this far in life without preparing for even the unlikely.
Caution was still warranted though, and so he'd been spending his time preparing and watching the manifests for incoming ships- so when he saw a group of scowling figures approaching him from behind at lunchtime, it was less of a shock and more the realization of inevitability.
Exterminators. Just what he needed to deal with today.
Sighing quietly, he fought down the rising panic and instinctive urge to run, and instead pretended not to notice the approaching officers- running never did any good, and trying to fight back or protest would lead to... retaliation.
Their timing was just the worst though- he'd been looking forward to having lunch with his friends, and taking a chance to decompress and relax. He'd been meticulous so far this week at maintaining his stress- other than his newfound indulgence in forbidden predator media- so it wasn't like he was scrambling to calm down. However, he really could use every bit of patience and composure he could get.
The grasping hands roughly pulling him out of the lunch-line, however, clearly didn't care about that, immediately starting to goosestep him through the cafeteria, regardless of the whispers and stares now coming their way.
"Lieutenant Yegel," a vaguely-familiar voice barked harshly as he was shoved forward, "your presence is required immediately. You are coming with us."
A bit late to give him a warning, wasn't it? Especially since he wasn't resisting in the first place. It was just theater to them- reciting something because they were supposed to, despite the outcome having already been determined. It was better to just not antagonize them-
"You know," he couldn't stop himself from saying, "If you wanted a date, you could have just a-"
A massive fist slammed into him, burying itself beneath his ribcage. The words died in his throat as all his air was forcefully expelled, his talons leaving the ground as he bent double over the grey three-toed paw.
"Quiet, predator," the Takkan ground out, slowly removing his forelimb from where it had been buried in Yegel's gut. "you'll only talk if our boss deigns to let filth like you waste our air, got it?"
Wheezing in reply, Yegel fought to try and recover the air that had been forcefully driven out of him, the exterminators yanking him by his wings and dragging him onwards. Perhaps it was good that he hadn't eaten yet- nothing there to have upchucked other than the vile spittle now burning at his tongue.
Guess he must be a new transfer, Yegel thought offhandedly, glancing up to see them approaching a familiar eating area. That would be a useful distraction from the main threat. Fighting down the pain through bitter familiarity, Yegel did his best to relax his feathers and his mind- he'd need all of it for this next mental sparring match.
Ornate doors covered in intricate patterns were thoughtlessly slammed open as the Exterminators dragged him into the private eating area, the shift between industrial flooring and soft, luxurious padding making his dragging talons catch on the delicate textiles. Vibrantly detailed paintings hung amidst sprawling vines imported from Nishtal, cast in cool, fluorescent light that made their rich colorings shimmer as he was dragged by. Even the tables and chairs were carved in the old Krakotl fashions, padding clearly intended for nesting rather than the utilitarian perching of the seats in the mess-hall.
It wasn't perfect though- spots of dull gray industrial walls poked through gaps between the wood, and the carpet was peeling in places, revealing the dirty standard flooring beneath. Despite the valiant attempts, any further inspection made it clear that this was all inserted after this area had already been built- a veneer of elegance plastered over a crude, utilitarian base.
Unfortunately, he did not get the chance to indulge in the comfortable seating, instead receiving a sharp blow between his wings that pushed him to the ground, heavy feet planting themselves on his back and neck to pin him to the ground. Iron grips continued holding his wings, pulling them painfully above his back, where they felt moments away from getting dislocated. Dragging in a rasping breath, his eyes roved to the two exterminators now aiming their flamethrowers at him, a young krakotl female whose adult patterns hadn't even fully come in yet, and a grim-eyed Gojid with distinct scarring, who at least looked somewhat professional as opposed to his partner's obvious anger and twitching trigger.
"Oh, fer Intala's sake," a familiar wheezing voice groaned in exasperation. "Can't trust you Grucknut-heads with anything, can I?"
The Krakotl tottering into the room was puffing what rough, stringy feathers he had left in irritation, a walking cane thunking on the floor as he hobbled over to a table decorated in a carving of two krakotl in flight- though from this angle, it looked more like they were plummeting to the ground. The skin around the geezer's eyes was wrinkled and gathered into such heavy bags that he seemed to be squinting at all the world around him- though Yegel certainly didn't miss the cold, calculating glint buried deep within his eyes.
"Off!" He barked, clacking his way over to where Yegel was pinned, angrily thumping his cane against the very confused Exterminators pinning him down. "Off him, you nut-skulled lunks! Bad enough you can't remember simple instructions, now you make me correct your messes meself? Off I say!"
In the face of the irate elder, the befuddled Exterminator's grips on Yegel loosened, finally letting his wings fall slack enough to make his chest stop feeling like it was stuck in an industrial compressor. Gratefully sucking in air as his rapidly-bruising side twinged, he looked up to find the his crotchety savior kneeling next to him, one wing resting on his cane as he creakily settled into a crouch.
"Sorry about the fuss," he wheezed, flicking his tail angrily at the young krakotl who had been moving forward indignantly. "Ask them to invite somebody to mealtime, and they go and pull this." A shaking wing reached out, offering it's grip to Yegel. "Up you come, boy. I'll not have you eating off the floor like some animal."
Yegel eyed the shaking hand, before planting his wings on the ground, fighting through the pain until he'd pushed himself onto his talons through his own strength. A glimmer of something oily flashed behind the old man's squinting eyes as he watched the display, snorting in amusement when Yegel reached out and pulled the Elder to his feet instead.
"Wasn't much of a request," he commented, carefully ignoring the angry shuffling of the people he knew had flamethrowers trained on him. "I don't suppose you're just wanting to make another sales pitch, are you Geezil?"
"Hah!" the old man barked, toddling over to a cushioned seat, "Always so blunt, Yegel. Straight to business, every time!" The younger krakotl female stepped forward, gently helping the grumbling man into his seat, where he sighed and immediately settled back into the cushions. "Ah, don't worry, got more to say than the usual this time- but first, got a special something for our meal."
With a flick of his wing, he signaled several servers to quietly enter the room, carrying a wide array of dishes and platters that were quickly and efficiently distributed to the relevant tables- both for the old man and Yegel, and even for the other exterminators, who glanced warily between the food, Yegel, and the officer watching everything with a hawkish stare. None of them seemed brave enough to decide what to do- or to stop Yegel as he began moving forward.
Yegel carefully pulled out his own perch, keeping his own movements slow as he settled into the admittedly-luxurious seating. Commander Geezil, the one in charge of the base's Exterminators- and probably one of the oldest individuals still serving within that institution's ranks. He'd heard the rumors about this being an unofficial forced retirement- storing him someplace out of the way when they couldn't make him quit- but he'd come to know the old man too well to believe it. He'd chosen this post himself- and Yegel still couldn't figure out why.
"Sir," the young krakotl started, giving Yegel the stink-eye from across the table, "I must ask what you are doing- you are well aware that he's-"
"Accused, girl," the codger interrupted, frilling his feathers derisively, "by a bitter fleet commander with a record of incidents from his troops longer than his crew-lists- and a penchant for lashing out at those he thinks insulted him." Seeing her shrink back at his harsh tone, his tattered feathers smoothed back down, a shaking wing reaching out and gently patting her shoulder. "Ah, it's politics, grand-daughter- a vile game of inflated egos and pointless posturing. It's like a courtship dance with a Duerten- unpleasant, filled with angry words, with a result that's unpleasant regardless of success or failure- but if you try to skip out, you're liable to lose an eye or worse, hehe."
"Still," she insisted, though much more hesitantly now, her eyes not quite as harsh as they flicked over at him, "with a list of incidents this long, however justified, you must admit it is a clear sign of a violent, unstable nature. If he were to suddenly lash out..."
"I've personally reviewed each incident," the commander snorted, swirling an eating utensil through the bowl in front of him. "Didn't find a single one where he were in the wrong. Besides, were we really concerned about his mind, we got a perfectly good doctor right on-base." His gimlet eyes turned to Yegel, the corners of his beak turned up in a smirk. "You're familiar with her, of course?"
"Indeed," Yegel admitted, keeping his wings at his side despite the tightening of his stomach as the smells of the meal assaulted him. Everything the old man was saying was already known between them- and while it might be simply for the benefit of his new underling, Yegel knew better than to assume there wasn't a different, less obvious purpose. "I've been screened by her multiple times- just like the doctors back on Nishtal, got clear marks across the board."
Her expression was twisted, clearly unwilling to accept that but unable to think of an adequate rebuke for it. "All the same," she started, shifting her wings to roll the fuel tank for her flamethrower from side to side, "I'm uncomfortable with this- it's dangerous to be eating with a predator, especially alone. Just because we're in the room doesn't mean we'll be able to react in time."
The old man's features wrinkled as he scowled, beak half-open, when Yegel jumped on the opportunity. "Actually, I agree," he stated, taking a bit of mischievous glee in the way their expressions popped in shock. "I would feel much safer if someone was sitting with us, to keep me safe."
Beak dropping open, her gaping expression twisted between shock and indignation as she choked at such blatant disrespect- but whatever retribution she thought to unleash was cut short as the old krakotl burst into loud, wheezing laughter, his bony wings thumping against the table as he howled in glee, making the dishes rattle dangerously. His laughter echoed through the room, to the visible discomfort of every other exterminator, half of them sinking back down from where they'd half-risen from their seats.
"Cheeky to the last, you are!" he barked, clutching his chest as he giggled dry, crackling chortles. "Ah, you have a point- best you sit with us, my dear- get introduced with- with this handsome young fella. Yegel, this is Lialu, daughter of my firstborn, and as you can see, the unfortunate inheritor of the branch up his bum." Kalina squawked indignantly, raising a wing as if to smack his shoulder in retribution, but her eyes flicked to Yegel as she paused, slowly settling back into a tense at-ease stance. "You might be working together someday- and if things go well, maybe a little more than that, hehe!" The sour twisting of her cheeks showed exactly what she thought of that idea.
"I'm flattered," Yegel droned dryly, "but I think if she hasn't even gotten her adult patterns, then that's far too dangerous for me."
"As if I'd be interested in such a disgraceful troublemaker in the first place!" she snapped right back, wings half-raised in a gesture of disgust. "tarnishing my career so early would be pointless- and I have no interest in such distractions anyways!"
"Bah, you're fourteen already, better that you start looking for a partner now," the geezer griped, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes uncomfortably. "This work's dangerous, girl- you can't plan for the future as if it's guaranteed, or else you'll find you've missed out." His eyes went a bit glassy and unfocused, staring off into the walls in an melancholic reminiscence. "Regret's a heavy thing to bear, and the years are never kind..."
The two younger krakotl shifted uncomfortably as silence fell, glancing between each other uncomfortably as he lapsed into old memories only he could see. Yegel was silently thankful for the break- these gaps in the old man's train of thought were the only thing that made these conversations manageable.
Unfortunately, Yegel's stomach decided to interject by gurgling it's frustration at being empty, snapping the greying elder out of his thoughts as his gaze snapped across the table. Yegel fought back the urge to flinch, if only barely- and even that was enough for the old man's eye to sparkle with something that made Yegel's skin crawl beneath his feathers.
"Ah, I've been distracting you with my yammering, haven't I?" the Head Exterminator apologized, gesturing grandly towards the array of filled dishes. "Go on, eat up boy- you've got a busy day ahead of you after all!" His wrinkled wing-hand receded from gesturing, and patted the young female on the shoulder. "You too, grand-daughter- gotta keep your calorie intake up to maintain those muscles- gear's heavy, and always getting heavier!"
Whatever his tone and attitude might have suggested, Yegel already knew that it wasn't a request. Gritting his beak, he delicately scooped up a bowl of thick, viscous algae, and methodically poured some into his beak.
Silty and clinging to his tongue, Yegel knew intellectually that this was a high-quality blend- that the consistency and density of the meal spoke of great care taken in the growing, filtering, and preparation of this dish- completely unlike the usual clumpy, soil-tainted slop served in the cafeteria. It was the sort of dish that must be incredibly expensive, even ignoring how far they were from anywhere of any importance- a culinary treat most on the base would have fought fiercely for a chance to try.
Yet as he consciously swallowed it down and discreetly clinked the bowl down on the table, all his tongue could taste was ash and flamethrower-fuel.
"Good, isn't it?" Geezil prompted as his grand-daughter also set her own bowl back down. "Straight from Nishtal, that is, grown properly in the pools, instead of them techno-vats they got on this here base. Reminds me of when I met Laila, you know- or rather, when I first worked up the gumption to ask for her time..." The old man chuckled to himself, his eyes staring off into the distance once again. "Stars, she was beautiful- and me a strapping young lad, straight from academy- big-headed from training, yet a fumbling mess with the other sex. Took me far too long to even make a pass, and longer still to make it official- kept finding excuses, when I really was just scared she'd say no!"
Yegel suppressed the urge to sigh, and found himself sharing a commiserating look with the exterminator who clearly had been through this rambling story almost as often as he had. Maybe he'd entertain the idea of bonding with her over it, if only he wasn't painfully aware of how strongly she and her friends wanted to reduce him to a pile of charred carbon. At least he wasn't suffering alone.
"You know, we got some side-eyes because of our difference in age- I was a fresh recruit, and she had been in the service for twelve years," Geezil confided absentmindedly, a dreamy expression on his face even as his granddaughter blanched and leaned away. "Ah, but we made it fine, found our happiness- and you should too!" he shifted, refocusing on his two unwilling guests. "Ten years made no difference, and you've a difference of what, five years? Not even that!"
Yegel inhaled deeply, letting his chest fully expand as he held back the surge of emotion that would certainly have worn through the elder's patience if let loose. Releasing the air in a deep sigh, he wrangled himself back into a restrained, controlled frame of mind. "Is trying to play matchmaker with your grand-daughter the only reason you arranged this meeting, sir? Because I stand by my utter lack of interest in her."
"Ah, you know it's not, you stiffneck," the old man grumbled, shifting around in his seat as he picked through his own spread of food. "You're a perfect fit for the corps, and we both know it. You got enough fire in you to want to fix the rot in society when you see it, and a good head on your neck as well- just gotta give you the training to aim it right, if you know what I'm saying." His cane reached out and tapped Yegel on the side jovially- and Yegel winced as his bruised ribs ignited in fiery pain, unable to stop a strained hiss from escaping his beak as he bent in place from the automatic tightening of his muscles.
Immediately, the entire room fell deathly still. Where once the silence had been uncomfortable but tolerable and interspersed with the inane sounds of clinking dishes, now it was an oppressive, choking claw squeezing around everyone's neck, unbroken by even a single breath of air.
"Barum." Geezil's flat, quiet statement whipped out through the stillness, a single cracking note that made the Takkan flinch in his seat. There was no waver in the old bird's voice now, only a cold, hard surety that made Yegel's feathers itch. "I was very explicit in my instructions. Was I not?"
"The- the predator resisted!" Barum tried to protest- though the waver in his voice clearly made it more of a plea. "With how dangerous he's proved to be, I had to-"
"Dangerous?" the drawled interruption made the hulking, thick-skinned exterminator flinch back from the dull-feathered bird barely half his size. "I see no injuries on any of you. There has never been an injury from officers bringing him in to me. I... was quite clear about wanting him brought here unharrassed." A single beady eye bored into the towering gray alien, making him shrink into himself under it's heat. "Do I lie?"
"S-sir please!" Sweat glistened on the Takkan's thick grey hide as he cowered back, his seat clattering to the floor as he stumbled. "It- I apologize, I swear I thought it was necessary! It won't happen again, sir! Please!"
Yegel knew what was coming next- the tightening of Geezil's beak and raising of the feathers on his back were a sure sign of how furious the old man was. All he had to do was sit back quietly and let it play out, and it would be both a distraction that bought him time, and retribution for the unnecessary blow he had taken- and was probably going to need to see the doctor for after this- if he was in a position to visit her, of course. Geezil's eyes were hard and cold, focused on his subordinate- getting between him and the subject of his ire would only earn him trouble... and yet, as Geezil's beak opened, he simply couldn't stop himself.
"While this is all quite engaging," Yegel interjected, refusing to flinch back as every eye in the room snapped towards him, Kalina's expression one of open shock while Geezil's screwed up in barely-contained fury, "but you said there was more to this meeting than making another recruitment pitch to me, yet all you've actually given besides that was an attempt to get me to go out with your grand-daughter." His confidence faltered as wrinkled eyes tightened, glaring holes into him, but he rallied himself and carefully considered his next words. "While your... repeated offers are actually quite flattering, I am quite happy with what I have managed to make for myself, without accepting favors or handouts- from anyone."
Geezil hummed to himself, maintaining his glare as the silent room held it's breath, before his jaw twitched upwards into a satisfied smirk, his eyes glinting as the granite in them faded into a smug satisfaction of having found what he was looking for. The entire room relaxed as he leaned backwards in his perch, Barum falling to the floor and trying to muffle the sounds of his heaving for breath. The gentle clinking of dishes and silverware once more filled the room in a very deliberate attempt at making noise, covering up the previous tension with artificial ease. Kalina was giving Yegel a look- not the pure disgust from earlier, but something confused, as if he were a particularly perplexing puzzle-game, or a problem that had suddenly reached an unexpected solution.
"You really can't help yourself, can you," Geezil noted approvingly, glancing over at his grand-daughter's reaction before nodding at Yegel- and making a jerking motion at Barum, who gulped and pulled himself off the floor, quietly hurrying his way out of the room. "So, I uh..." the light in his eyes faded, his beak clacking shut as he rapped his talons against his perch. "I, uh, huh... hmmm. There was, actually something else... Bother me, where were we? I can't remember..."
"I believe," Yegel commented dryly, fighting to keep his own breathing even, "That I was once again saying how content I am with my current position, and that even this doctor being imported just for me isn't enough for me to leave everything behind and run into the Exterminator Corps."
"Ah, right, right," he nodded, snagging on to the lead Yegel had thrown him, before pausing and looking out over the room. "I do respect what you've managed on your own," he finally admitted, setting his bowl to the side, "But this time... this doctor, he's not exactly playing fair. This is politics, the nasty sort- where he's going to do everything he can to make you disappear. Unless, of course..." reaching into his own pouch, he shakily produces a holopad that he slides over to Yegel, displaying a series of documents- and a prominent line for signatures. "You take an alternative. Sign up, and it'll be our own docs who do your eval- and you'll clear their tests just fine, I think. Might not be your ideal career path- but I'm loathe to let such a promising young man get screwed by Old-Molts with thin egos and sharp talons."
Yegel's first instinct was to push the pad away, to reject it like he usually did- but now, he paused, expression screwed up in conflict. A part of him was tempted- severely tempted- to accept- the part of him that was still terrified of the looming threat, that wanted to run somewhere-anywhere- and hide until this whole twisted situation just went away.
Was he being selfish, rejecting an offer like this? Wouldn't the right thing to do be to accept and guarantee he stayed alive, like Jelliba and Kallik so desperately wanted? Why take the risk, when safety was right here, just a signature away- something that would guarantee him the chance to see what Jelliba's final design would look like, to see Kallik climb through the ranks like Yegel knew he someday would? Was it pride that stayed his talons, or was he simply afraid of change?
"Seriously?!" his granddaughter hissed, clearly taken aback, unaware of Yegel's silent internal debate as she rounded on her grandfather angrily. "That's why he's here? So we can just ignore his entire history of warning signs, just because you like him? With a record like his-"
"-He'd fit right in," he finished for her, eyes narrowed in a disappointed glare that had her beak snapping closed as she shrunk back into her perch. "I know you ain't seen most of it, Lialu, but most of our recruits aren't exactly got glistening feathers. Heck, lots of our older recruits got worse on their record! It's half the point of the training regimen, to file down the burrs in their talons, make something useful from them."
File down the burrs... Was he really willing to accept what that entailed? What parts of himself would he need to sacrifice, if he went down this road? What would he become, on the other side of whatever training they had in store for him?
Would he still be Yegel?
Inhaling deeply through his beak, Yegel grasped the pad, which felt far heavier than it should... and gently slid it back over to Geezil.
"If I accepted now, that would practically be an admission of being sick," Yegel breathed, his heart pounding heavily within his chest. "I... am going to see this through- I will pass this evaluation, no matter what he throws at me- and then!" Finally, he looked Geezil in the eye, firming his own resolve as he squared his shoulders. "Then, and only then, will I consider your offer."
Geezil watched on, the burning tongues of some dark flame flickering behind his ancient eyes. When Yegel stood strong, his feathers crinkled into an amused display, even as he shook his head in mock disappointment. "Ah, you really are a fine young lad," he sighed mournfully, rapping his cane against the table. "Are you sure? The doctor arrived only an hour ago in port- this is your last chance, before we have to take you to your evaluation. And without anyone having requested the extra security of one of my officers, why, this might be the last time we see each other!"
Ah. So that was the old geezer's game. Yegel pushed down the rising surge of fear, quivering in his perch as he forced himself to meet the elder's gaze. "Then I'll go ahead and invite you myself- I'm more than happy to have an audience to me proving my innocence."
The old bird's beak twisted into an ugly grin. "I am sure you do. Lialu, go ahead- consider this a learning experience for the future, hmn? Now, I won't waste any more of your time- so off you go!"
The scraping of seats being pushed out was all the warning Yegel got before he was grabbed and pulled from his seat. "Hey, hey, gentle with him, you hard-headed brutes!" Scoffing, Geezil pushed himself back in his seat, glaring at his Exterminators as Yegel was unceremoniously dropped.
"So, you planned this all out in advance, didn't you?" Yegel guessed, pushing himself to his feet- and wincing as his side twinged in pain, reminding him of the rapidly-swelling bruise.
"Dunno what you mean," Geezil denied in faux apology, as his granddaughter gaped between the two of them, clearly lost on what was happening. "Figured you needed a chance to make the right choice- or failing that, a decent last meal." Waving his wing in disappointment, he gestured towards the door- which Yegel found himself getting rapidly pushed towards. "Good luck, lad- I hope to see you again someday!"
"Don't worry, sir," Yegel snapped back, shouldering away from his escorts and refusing to look back. "I'll be back sooner than you think."
The doors slammed shut behind his escorts, reflecting the young female's confused, conflicted gaze as she strode alongside him- Yegel felt a moment of pity for the young girl, who the geezer had clearly thrown into the deep end on purpose. Hopefully she caught onto the game soon, otherwise she'd end up as somebody's tool- though maybe it was already too late for that.
Stomach roiling at the thought of what lay ahead, Yegel couldn't help the feeling of regret for not taking the escape offered to him- sure it wouldn't be ideal, but he owed it to the people most important to him to make sure he stuck around a little longer. Why he'd rejected it... he couldn't quite put it into words, only a feeling that it would have been... wrong, somehow.
The cafeteria murmured again as he was led through the mealtime crowd, catching the panicked gazes of his friends across the room. Kallik was halfway out of his seat before Yegel carefully gestured back, tapping his wing against his throat- and watching his friend slowly settle back down, Kallik's eyes growing focused as he turned and strode towards a different exit, vanishing into the distance as Yegel was dragged through a set of doors out into a cold, grey hallway.
Clenching his gullet, he carefully felt out around Kallik's gift- safely stored within his throat. The creeping tendrils of terror within his mind were growing stronger, but he chose to have faith in his friend- and resolved to make sure his efforts were not wasted.
He'd find a way through- he just had to keep moving forward.
///
one week earlier...
Once he'd had the chance to compose himself, Yegel returned to his viewing- he wanted to see what happened next, after such a massive shift in the struggle now that Eren had actually earned them a victory.
Despite that, Armin's narration pointed out that too many lives had been lost for any celebrations to be in order- a sentiment that Yegel understood, but... well, he wasn't as surprised to to see it from the humans anymore. Imagine, it wasn't long ago that he'd have been expecting them to revel in the carnage like other predators, uncaring of the toll in lives- yet here they were, deeply affected by the loss of so many friends and comrades, and instead of being baffled by it, Yegel completely understood their response.
Oh, and they'd taken advantage of their unique situation to even capture two of the smaller titans, presumably for study- which, given Eren's sudden new powers, was probably something that needed more study than initially presumed. Thankfully the restraints seems pretty extensive, so hopefully they could keep the monsters contained- but still, imagine being the poor soul tasked with keeping them locked down! Hopefully it wouldn't take long for them to get what they needed and dispose of the creatures.
Of course, with victory came the morbid task of cleaning up the aftermath- and not in the way anyone else in the Federation would believe if he told them. Gathering up bodies as respectfully as they could, instead of devouring them on the spot? He'd be hard-pressed to convince anyone he was telling the truth!
Wait... Marco?!
When did Marco die?! Yegel thought he'd gotten away after saving Jean! Maybe it was in the push to get Eren to the gate? Geez, and Jean was the one to find him- Marco had been so supportive of him, despite Jean's fear and self-doubts, always willing to give a word of encouragement and affirm Jean's place as leader... and now he was gone, with Jean being forced to help the cleanup crew's by giving Marco's details...
The female doctor brought up something Yegel hadn't considered- that the reason for the urgency of their cleanup was because of the risk of an epidemic breaking out. The dead had been left too long, and now there was a risk of a secondary disaster if the humans didn't hurry. Yegel had never really considered something like that- meat was meat to predators, wasn't it? The Arxur never seemed to mind eating bodies they stumbled across, so he'd somehow assumed that diseases like that weren't a concern for predators.
Just another area where the humans proved their difference from the greys, he supposed.
Thankfully, the camera hadn't focused on Marco's corpse for too long, so Yegel was able to contain his urge to gag, focusing in on Jean and his emotional response- and how expressive human faces were, even when covered by face-masks to protect themselves from germs and contamination. Of course that was when the scene shifted to Sasha and Connie, helping to clean up a massive ball of... flesh... that apparently titans upchuck when they're too full, since they don't actually have a digestive track... and a closeup showed a human mouth inside, still opened in a silent scream...
Yes, hello wastebin, been a moment since we last met, how have you been? Don't mind me, just emptying my stomach again!
...Yegel didn't like Sasha- she was clearly the most "predatory" of the humans- but at least here, the disgust and horror on her face showed that there were lines even she wouldn't cross.
Even Annie, the stoic female who never seemed to show emotion, was shaken- standing over a body, apologizing over and over again, before Reiner pointed out that contrition did the dead no good, and that they needed a proper burial. So the humans buried their dead? That was kind of similar to Gojid traditions for honoring the dead, burying them in vast family crypts.
But, why did the scene shift to a fire burning? What were they-
Oh.
So that's what those grey flakes that had been falling everywhere were. Yegel had kind of been wondering about that.
So, they didn't even have time to give proper burials to everyone.
That...
Yegel forced himself to take a deep breath, rubbing the sides of his head as he exhaled. He'd say it was similar to Krakotl death rites, purifying the body to drift through the divine winds of Nishtal, to be carried away to Intala's realm, but... in this context, it clearly must have been desperation and urgency rather than a matter of respect.
...Intala, please watch over them.
...Thankfully, the perspective then shifted back to Eren- who was now locked up in a cell deep underground, and chained to a bed. Understandable precautions- his powers were clearly still volatile, and the last thing the humans needed to deal with was a rogue titan wandering around.
Commander Erwin and Captain Levi were outside his cell, watching him. Erwin asked if he had any questions- which, well, Yegel obviously had several, but Eren was still disoriented from waking up. Which made sense, given how much using his power seemed to take out of him- he must have been exhausted after carrying that boulder for so long.
Erwin proceeded to ask about the key that had held such importance- and the secret that was apparently hidden beneath Eren's house. Eren confirmed, and Levi scoffed about how it must suck to have your dad and your memories MIA at the same time- unless it was just a cover story. Which- was a reasonable concern, but... was that what Yegel sounded like to other people?
At least Erwin confirmed that they knew Eren had no reason to lie- and proceeded to ask Eren what he wanted- what his intentions were. After all, to reach the cellar, they'd need to seal the breach in the other wall like they'd done in Trost- which required Eren's special power. Apparently they'd even conjectured that the Colossal and Armored titan must be like Eren- titans piloted by people?! Which did make sense- the Bad Humans probably had an easier time developing and using titan powers, since they weren't trying to fight or resist their predator instincts. That also would explain their motive- killing all the good humans would mean the bad humans would win, and be able to rule as dominant predators like the Arxur did.
...Was there a group of good Arxur once, that lost their own fight with the Arxur Yegel knew?
NO. No, that was impossible- there was no way the greys had ever had anything good within them- they were monsters through and through! Good Arxur? Ridiculous- just because humans were an insane enigma that broke every rule as if they were intentionally trying to didn't mean the same applied to other predators!
Unless of course, the good Arxur had all been killed-
No. NO. Yegel was not going down that path of madness! He was not!
...
...Erwin expanded on his statement, saying that was why he asked Eren's intentions- because Eren could save "us," presumably meaning the good humans. Eren initially said he didn't know- but then his past, his memories, all flooded through his head- his inner voice angrily declaring that he would stop this with his bare hands! When Levi pressed for an answer, Eren looked up with a downright deranged grin- and declared that he wanted to kill all the titans- every last one.
So that's how Eren turned out different- he'd aimed his instincts towards the monsters, and become obsessed with wiping out the titans, instead of wanting to consume humans like every other titan did. That said something about Eren's mental fortitude- and why he still had difficulties with his power. Actively twisting your instincts like that must cross a few wires, leaving him needing to actively learn things instead of simply doing what came naturally.
Levi seemed to like that answer, a gleam entering his eyes as he approached Eren's cell and announced that he'd take responsibility for him. Not that he implicitly trusted him, but that he trusted his abilities to kill Eren if necessary. He offered Eren congratulations, officially welcoming him as a new member of the Scouting Corps- and told Erwin to let the higher-ups know.
And then announced that, despite this meeting, Eren wasn't out of the woods yet- as he was going to stand trial, where they'd need to argue against him simply being killed.
Because of course it couldn't be that simple.

Uma Musume: Pretty Derby - ROAD TO THE TOP
I wasn’t planning on checking out the 4 episode special for Uma Musume, but the amazing opening caught my eye and convinced me to give it a shot. As I started watching, it was clear to me that this show’s superb animation was supported by some incredible cinematography that helped build the narrative between its leads. As a fun exercise, I wanted to try to highlight some of the directing choices and break down how Uma Musume RTTT gets away with telling so little by showing so much.
Cinematography is the presentation of the visuals in anime. The arrangement of characters in a scene, the lighting, the focus on props or backgrounds: all of these can be encapsulated by “cinematography,” and put in a ton of work for the viewing experience. There are plenty of obvious instances where a show will employ cinematography, but even if you don’t notice it immediately, these choices can have an underlying psychological effect in how you experience a scene. You can dye a scene in blue to enhance the melancholy. You can cut away from a conversation to a nearby prop to reveal a character’s mental state. These visual techniques can easily go underappreciated, and Uma Musume thankfully has some fairly overt examples that we can analyze.
(spoilers for episode 1)
Prologue
Episode one opens up with the Yayoi Sho, a GII race that introduces two of our main leads: Narita Top Road and Admiral Vega. Much of what I want to talk about in this race will come later. But let me give a brief synopsis of the race. Under a slight drizzle, we start off with Avec Blaze* in the lead. Narita Top Road, eager to meet the expectations of her fans and coach, puts on a burst of speed to take the lead. Admiral Vega, who also feels the need to win for a yet undisclosed person, quickly follows up on her heels despite lingering behind the pack. Though it’s a close affair between the two, Narita Top Road clutches her lead and wins the race. She cheerfully waves to the crowd while Admiral Vega regretfully looks on. The episode immediately gives viewers exactly what they’re here for: some hype horse girls racing.
Narita Top Road: the favorite
After the OP, we follow Narita Top Road in her daily school life. Her training starts at dawn, and this is clearly a recurring affair since her coach advises her to take a break.** At school, Narita Top Road is the class president and is admired by her classmates. Between her coach, fans, and friends, there’s plenty of people who acknowledge her drive and expect great things from her. Admiral Vega, noticing a small injury on Narita Top Road’s thigh, brings her outside to put a band-aid on it. In the hallway, Narita Top Road and Admiral Vega confess to one another declare their respective determination to win the upcoming Satsukisho. While Narita Top Road professes her excitement to race along with someone she admires, the light from the windows is always illuminating her face. She is quite literally glowing. Meanwhile, Admiral Vega, who feels hesitant about befriending her rivals, seems to have her face framed in between the path of these light beams. She’s not poorly lit by any means: there is just a clear difference in how our two characters are illuminated. The light is so all over Narita Top Road that she is reflecting light. This light and dark metaphor will persist throughout the episode’s run.
We’re next treated to a brief origin story for Narita Top Road. What helps sell the flashback is the fact that the conversations with the trainer all take place at sunset. This is a great example of the “Against the Setting Sun” trope, where Narita Top Road and the trainer make a goal to conquer the Twinkle Series together. Sunsets can symbolize transitioning to another phase, and here it depicts Narita Top Road’s first step to becoming a pro. We’re also treated to a parallel from an earlier training scene, where Narita Top Road attempts to make a sharp turn from the outside of the pack. She struggles more in this flashback, staggering several times; there is a noticeable improvement in the training scene that took place during the present, where Narita Top Road only staggers once. The mirroring of her first training scene in this flashback confirms Narita Top Road’s consistent practice and diligence. Narita Top Road works from sunrise to sunset, and when you consider the previous paragraph on lighting, it becomes apparent that Narita Top Road can be associated with daylight.
TM Opera O: in the middle
While Satsukisho is expected to be all about Admiral Vega vs. Narita Top Road, we switch unexpectedly to a third character. The ordering of events here was initially a bit confusing for me: we start with a cocky smirk prior to cutting to the eyecatch, with the upper half of the face hidden. When we come back, the first thing we see is an eye: it is TM Opera O waking up at 2 AM, visibly distressed. Then, it cuts to a flashback where TM Opera O is returning to running after an injury. She is all bravado and speaks boldly of her destiny to win every race she enters. She proceeds to win consecutive races, backing up her claims, but is also shown visibly struggling during training. Even so, she proudly declares that her perseverance in the face of adversity is for the audience: TM Opera O lives to win and bask in the cheers of a crowd.
This flashback in my opinion serves to humanize TM Opera O’s larger than life personality: behind her dramatic flair and proud sense of self is someone who worked incredibly hard to get back into shape and still experiences some stress about meeting the standards she set for herself. For instance, her introduction starts with just her mouth, hiding the eyes, which are commonly used to indicate a character’s true nature. Then the show cuts to that portion of the face (eye) that was missing in that first shot, suggesting that the TM Opera O waking up right now is closer to her true self than the more grandiose mask she wears in public. She’ll continue to play this theatrical character in the series, but her introduction serves to let the audience know early on that she’s had her own share of struggles and insecurities.
Admiral Vega: the rival
Finally, we get to Admiral Vega and what she’s doing in preparation for the Satsukisho. We cut to night time, where Admiral Vega leaves to go for a run. She and her roommate, Curren Chan, are placed in different layers (Admiral Vega slightly blurred in the front while Curren Chan is sharp and placed behind her). This arrangement highlights the contrast in their activities: as Curren Chan is clearly winding down the day by brushing her tail, Admiral Vega is off to train.
As she runs along a deserted street with numerous streetlights, Admiral Vega refuses to step into them. In fact, she’s shown running away from the light. The connection to darkness suggests that Admiral Vega’s motivations could be unhealthy. Or, going back to her thoughts in the hallway, Admiral Vega’s avoidance of light could connect to her dogma that she does not need friends or rivals (in this case, Narita Top Road who is the light): she just has to win at all costs. Either way, the lack of lighting for Admiral Vega directly sets her up as the clear rival for Narita Top Road. In the very next scene, Narita Top Road practices in broad daylight to the cheers of her classmates. Lighting and the time of day will play a pivotal role in coloring the interactions between these two characters in the rest of the series.
Final Race
And now we’ve finally arrived at the Satsukisho, a premiere GI race for our trio of leads. Before it begins, Admiral Vega and Narita Top Road meet in the tunnels leading to the racetrack. Even though they are in the exact same location with respect to the light from the exit, Narita Top Road’s face is illuminated while Admiral Vega’s face continues to be shadowed. These two are definitely rivals and antitheses to one another. However, TM Opera O appears from the top of the tunnel exit, the backlighting giving her an almost videogame-boss-like feel; these two were supposed to be focused on one another, but the more menacing opponent may be the one standing above them.
Even if the media has tried to convince you that it’s a close affair between Narita Top Road and Admiral Vega, the cinematography makes it clear that this is Narita Top Road’s race to lose. Despite her cheerful demeanor in training, Narita Top Road is actually very nervous. She’s the last to enter her start gate and, as her classmates and friends cheer her on, we get this shot of Narita Top Road seemingly caged in by her starting gate. These expectations that she’s desperate to meet are beginning to stress her out. As we start the race, you’ll see that many of the shots here mirror that first race, which Narita Top Road won: the stormy clouds and slight drizzle, the shot of her coach right before the dramatic last minute spurt from Narita Top Road to take the lead, and even the brief proximity of Narita Top Road and Admiral Vega give the impression that we’ve seen this exact race before.
But unlike the race at the start of the episode, TM Opera O arrives to steal the show! There’s an incredible panning shot that zooms in on TM Opera O as she makes a break for the lead, emphasizing her approach. But then she flies past the camera, and the shot becomes an inverted zoom away. Not only does this shot give the viewer the sense of being left in the dust like her opponents, but the upside down perspective makes it clear that this result is an upset and, dare I say it, has flipped expectations. TM Opera O snatches victory from Narita Top Road’s hands, shattering the projection of a repeat of the first race’s results.*** She rightfully basks in the glory she anticipated earlier in the episode.
At the end, Narita Top Road is devastated. While TM Opera O celebrates, Narita Top Road’s sweaty face is pushed to the background: it’s a very familiar position for Admiral Vega. The mirroring of shots throughout this final race really gives this single episode a sense of completion, and that we’ve come full circle in spite of the different results. Despite the loss, the episode ends with Narita Top Road’s refusal to give in: a literal ray of sunshine breaks through the clouds and illuminates her as she holds her head high. Her hopes for a GI win have yet to be dashed, and she’ll have three more episodes to get her revenge. Meanwhile, Admiral Vega finished a dismal 6th, and her posture here is even more slumped than in the first race. Maybe it’s an injury bothering her, or perhaps it’s from the increasing weight of her failed expectations physically pushing her down. We’ll have to see in episode two if she’ll be able to find the same strength to raise her head.
Conclusion
As you watch the next three episodes, you’ll find the same impeccable directing throughout. They’ll continue to mirror previous shots to help depict the evolving relationships between characters and utilize lighting to contrast Narita Top Road and Admiral Vega. There are so many awesome shots littered throughout the show and despite my qualms for some of the story elements, my attention was captured by both the stellar race animation and the thoughtful cinematography. Even if you’re not that interested in horse girls, consider giving this short ONA a shot.****
Thanks to u/MyrnaMountWeazel for reviewing my essay!
*Is her name actually Astral Blaze?
**There’s a fun pair of shots here between the coach and Narita Top Road, but I wasn’t sure what this could mean outside of (spoilers) some potential communication issues between Narita Top Road and her trainer in the later episodes.
***I really was hoping that TM Opera O being in the 12th position and winning was a cinematic choice referencing Narita Top Road winning the first race in the 12th position, but no it is an actual coincidence.
****This was supposed to be a funny post about horse feet but I got lost in the directing sauce.

I'm fairly new to the CK and new-ish to script making. I'll just paste the error message that comes up when I attempt to make a new script:
Starting 1 compile threads for 1 files... Compiling "testscript0"... Unhandled Exception: System.BadImageFormatException: Could not load file or assembly 'antlr.runtime, Version=2.7.7.3, Culture=neutral, PublicKeyToken=d7701e059243744f' or one of its dependencies. The module was expected to contain an assembly manifest.
File name: 'antlr.runtime, Version=2.7.7.3, Culture=neutral, PublicKeyToken=d7701e059243744f'
at PCompiler.PapyrusGen..ctor(ITreeNodeStream input, RecognizerSharedState state)
at PCompiler.Compiler.GenerateCode(ScriptObjectType akObj)
at PCompiler.Compiler.Compile(String asObjectName, String asFlagsFile, Boolean abOptimize)
at PapyrusCompiler.Program.CompilerThread()
at System.Threading.ExecutionContext.Run(ExecutionContext executionContext, ContextCallback callback, Object state)
at System.Threading.ThreadHelper.ThreadStart()
WRN: Assembly binding logging is turned OFF.
To enable assembly bind failure logging, set the registry value [HKLM\Software\Microsoft\Fusion!EnableLog] (DWORD) to 1.
Note: There is some performance penalty associated with assembly bind failure logging.
To turn this feature off, remove the registry value [HKLM\Software\Microsoft\Fusion!EnableLog].
I'm not super into tech stuff, so I'm unsure of what a lot of this means and how I can fix it. Can anyone explain this to me like you're explaining it to a toddler? Modmaking has been a struggle bus for me so I would really appreciate it if anyone could tell or show me how to fix this error in simpler terms haha.

Uma Musume: Pretty Derby - ROAD TO THE TOP
I wasn’t planning on checking out the 4 episode special for Uma Musume, but the amazing opening caught my eye and convinced me to give it a shot. As I started watching, it was clear to me that this show’s superb animation was supported by some incredible cinematography that helped build the narrative between its leads. As a fun exercise, I wanted to try to highlight some of the directing choices and break down how Uma Musume RTTT gets away with telling so little by showing so much.
Cinematography is the presentation of the visuals in anime. The arrangement of characters in a scene, the lighting, the focus on props or backgrounds: all of these can be encapsulated by “cinematography,” and put in a ton of work for the viewing experience. There are plenty of obvious instances where a show will employ cinematography, but even if you don’t notice it immediately, these choices can have an underlying psychological effect in how you experience a scene. You can dye a scene in blue to enhance the melancholy. You can cut away from a conversation to a nearby prop to reveal a character’s mental state. These visual techniques can easily go underappreciated, and Uma Musume thankfully has some fairly overt examples that we can analyze.
(spoilers for episode 1)
Episode one opens up with the Yayoi Sho, a GII race that introduces two of our main leads: Narita Top Road and Admiral Vega. Much of what I want to talk about in this race will come later. But let me give a brief synopsis of the race. Under a slight drizzle, we start off with Avec Blaze* in the lead. Narita Top Road, eager to meet the expectations of her fans and coach, puts on a burst of speed to take the lead. Admiral Vega, who also feels the need to win for a yet undisclosed person, quickly follows up on her heels despite lingering behind the pack. Though it’s a close affair between the two, Narita Top Road clutches her lead and wins the race. She cheerfully waves to the crowd while Admiral Vega regretfully looks on. The episode immediately gives viewers exactly what they’re here for: some hype horse girls racing.
After the OP, we follow Narita Top Road in her daily school life. Her training starts at dawn, and this is clearly a recurring affair since her coach advises her to take a break.** At school, Narita Top Road is the class president and is admired by her classmates. Between her coach, fans, and friends, there’s plenty of people who acknowledge her drive and expect great things from her. Admiral Vega, noticing a small injury on Narita Top Road’s thigh, brings her outside to put a band-aid on it. In the hallway, Narita Top Road and Admiral Vega confess to one another declare their respective determination to win the upcoming Satsukisho. While Narita Top Road professes her excitement to race along with someone she admires, the light from the windows is always illuminating her face. She is quite literally glowing. Meanwhile, Admiral Vega, who feels hesitant about befriending her rivals, seems to have her face framed in between the path of these light beams. She’s not poorly lit by any means: there is just a clear difference in how our two characters are illuminated. The light is so all over Narita Top Road that she is reflecting light. This light and dark metaphor will persist throughout the episode’s run.
We’re next treated to a brief origin story for Narita Top Road. What helps sell the flashback is the fact that the conversations with the trainer all take place at sunset. This is a great example of the “Against the Setting Sun” trope, where Narita Top Road and the trainer make a goal to conquer the Twinkle Series together. Sunsets can symbolize transitioning to another phase, and here it depicts Narita Top Road’s first step to becoming a pro. We’re also treated to a parallel from an earlier training scene, where Narita Top Road attempts to make a sharp turn from the outside of the pack. She struggles more in this flashback, staggering several times; there is a noticeable improvement in the training scene that took place during the present, where Narita Top Road only staggers once. The mirroring of her first training scene in this flashback confirms Narita Top Road’s consistent practice and diligence. Narita Top Road works from sunrise to sunset, and when you consider the previous paragraph on lighting, it becomes apparent that Narita Top Road can be associated with daylight.
While Satsukisho is expected to be all about Admiral Vega vs. Narita Top Road, we switch unexpectedly to a third character. The ordering of events here was initially a bit confusing for me: we start with a cocky smirk prior to cutting to the eyecatch, with the upper half of the face hidden. When we come back, the first thing we see is an eye: it is TM Opera O waking up at 2 AM, visibly distressed. Then, it cuts to a flashback where TM Opera O is returning to running after an injury. She is all bravado and speaks boldly of her destiny to win every race she enters. She proceeds to win consecutive races, backing up her claims, but is also shown visibly struggling during training. Even so, she proudly declares that her perseverance in the face of adversity is for the audience: TM Opera O lives to win and bask in the cheers of a crowd. This flashback in my opinion serves to humanize TM Opera O’s larger than life personality: behind her dramatic flair and proud sense of self is someone who worked incredibly hard to get back into shape and still experiences some stress about meeting the standards she set for herself. For instance, her introduction starts with just her mouth, hiding the eyes, which are commonly used to indicate a character’s true nature. Then the show cuts to that portion of the face (eye) that was missing in that first shot, suggesting that the TM Opera O waking up right now is closer to her true self than the more grandiose mask she wears in public. She’ll continue to play this theatrical character in the series, but her introduction serves to let the audience know early on that she’s had her own share of struggles and insecurities.
Finally, we get to Admiral Vega and what she’s doing in preparation for the Satsukisho. We cut to night time, where Admiral Vega leaves to go for a run. She and her roommate, Curren Chan, are placed in different layers (Admiral Vega slightly blurred in the front while Curren Chan is sharp and placed behind her). This arrangement highlights the contrast in their activities: as Curren Chan is clearly winding down the day by brushing her tail, Admiral Vega is off to train. As she runs along a deserted street with numerous streetlights, Admiral Vega refuses to step into them. In fact, she’s shown running away from the light. The connection to darkness suggests that Admiral Vega’s motivations could be unhealthy. Or, going back to her thoughts in the hallway, Admiral Vega’s avoidance of light could connect to her dogma that she does not need friends or rivals (in this case, Narita Top Road who is the light): she just has to win at all costs. Either way, the lack of lighting for Admiral Vega directly sets her up as the clear rival for Narita Top Road. In the very next scene, Narita Top Road practices in broad daylight to the cheers of her classmates. Lighting and the time of day will play a pivotal role in coloring the interactions between these two characters in the rest of the series.
And now we’ve finally arrived at the Satsukisho, a premiere GI race for our trio of leads. Before it begins, Admiral Vega and Narita Top Road meet in the tunnels leading to the racetrack. Even though they are in the exact same location with respect to the light from the exit, Narita Top Road’s face is illuminated while Admiral Vega’s face continues to be shadowed. These two are definitely rivals and antitheses to one another. However, TM Opera O appears from the top of the tunnel exit, the backlighting giving her an almost videogame-boss-like feel; these two were supposed to be focused on one another, but the more menacing opponent may be the one standing above them.
Even if the media has tried to convince you that it’s a close affair between Narita Top Road and Admiral Vega, the cinematography makes it clear that this is Narita Top Road’s race to lose. Despite her cheerful demeanor in training, Narita Top Road is actually very nervous. She’s the last to enter her start gate and, as her classmates and friends cheer her on, we get this shot of Narita Top Road seemingly caged in by her starting gate. These expectations that she’s desperate to meet are beginning to stress her out. As we start the race, you’ll see that many of the shots here mirror that first race, which Narita Top Road won: the stormy clouds and slight drizzle, the shot of her coach right before the dramatic last minute spurt from Narita Top Road to take the lead, and even the brief proximity of Narita Top Road and Admiral Vega give the impression that we’ve seen this exact race before.
But unlike the race at the start of the episode, TM Opera O arrives to steal the show! There’s an incredible panning shot that zooms in on TM Opera O as she makes a break for the lead, emphasizing her approach. But then she flies past the camera, and the shot becomes an inverted zoom away. Not only does this shot give the viewer the sense of being left in the dust like her opponents, but the upside down perspective makes it clear that this result is an upset and, dare I say it, has flipped expectations. TM Opera O snatches victory from Narita Top Road’s hands, shattering the projection of a repeat of the first race’s results.*** She rightfully basks in the glory she anticipated earlier in the episode.
At the end, Narita Top Road is devastated. While TM Opera O celebrates, Narita Top Road’s sweaty face is pushed to the background: it’s a very familiar position for Admiral Vega. The mirroring of shots throughout this final race really gives this single episode a sense of completion, and that we’ve come full circle in spite of the different results. Despite the loss, the episode ends with Narita Top Road’s refusal to give in: a literal ray of sunshine breaks through the clouds and illuminates her as she holds her head high. Her hopes for a GI win have yet to be dashed, and she’ll have three more episodes to get her revenge. Meanwhile, Admiral Vega finished a dismal 6th, and her posture here is even more slumped than in the first race. Maybe it’s an injury bothering her, or perhaps it’s from the increasing weight of her failed expectations physically pushing her down. We’ll have to see in episode two if she’ll be able to find the same strength to raise her head.
As you watch the next three episodes, you’ll find the same impeccable directing throughout. They’ll continue to mirror previous shots to help depict the evolving relationships between characters and utilize lighting to contrast Narita Top Road and Admiral Vega. There are so many awesome shots littered throughout the show and despite my qualms for some of the story elements, my attention was captured by both the stellar race animation and the thoughtful cinematography. Even if you’re not that interested in horse girls, consider giving this short ONA a shot.****
*Is her name actually Astral Blaze?
**There’s a fun pair of shots here between the coach and Narita Top Road, but I wasn’t sure what this could mean outside of (spoilers) some potential communication issues between Narita Top Road and her trainer in the later episodes.
***I really was hoping that TM Opera O being in the 12th position and winning was a cinematic choice referencing Narita Top Road winning the first race in the 12th position, but no it is an actual coincidence.
****This was supposed to be a funny post about horse feet but I got lost in the directing sauce.

So, it's been like 3 months since my last post on the topic, but, after a break (honestly, going through the whole story a fourth time for the B ending - fifth if you count watching the anime - was rough), I came back and read through all the endings. So, I'mma give my thoughts, in more or less the order I had them.
(Before that, if you'd like to see my initial thoughts on Chaos;Head, here they are)
First of all, I'm going to come out swinging and say that the extra scenes in the reread are honestly, in general, kinda bad? The first one is sort of meh - we see Shogun deciding to send messages to Taku, and Rimi asking him if he wants to. It's a scene we haven't seen before, but it doesn't really add much. The same goes for the majority of extra stuff in the routes (before the branches). It's vaguely interesting to get some extra points of view at times, or an extra bit of information that'll be relevant in its own ending, but I'm pretty neutral on most of them.
The other one relates to a scene I complained about in my last post, where Suwa asks Hazuki for Taku's info and she complains. I was confused about why they were acting this way, but the scene is explained by a new one that follows it.
And the resolution? They were just acting, cos somebody was watching. Thrilling.
I mean, I suppose it's the first hint that Suwa and Hazuki are actually directly in kahoots in some way, but I can't help but feel it's such an inelegant resolution to this issue.
Still, moving on.
I'd already seen the B ending, but reading it again, it's pretty great. Something about expriencing the murders in the first person is just great, and the utter pessimism of the ending is fantastic. I do think it kind of kills the mood that the final murder was perpetrated by a movie monster (it just feels silly compared to, for example, a woman slicing a baby out of herself and stitching it into a guy), but it manages to pick itself back up. I somewhat miss Gladioul as an ending song, but Innocence works pretty well too. It's still FES singing, after all.
I've got some in-depth thoughts regarding Nanami's ending, which I'm working into another post. For this post, all I'll really say is that I think it's really fascinating how it fits into the overall themes of the story, and how it ties into the way Nanami is treated by the main plot, and yet, I can't say I enjoyed it all that much. Some great ideas, but I could honestly have done without the incest (even if it was depicted in a pretty negative light). The ending song is good fun, though.
I did Yua's ending next, and, overall, I came out fairly disappointed. I did like the feel of it quite a bit - Takumi being stuck in his home with Yua at her most unhinged - and I did like how it made Yua feel more relevant, but I wasn't a fan of the twist. Honestly, I thought Yua's "who am I" arc was thematically redundant - I realise identity is a big theme in this story (Taku vs Shogun, Rimi being only the most recent in a series of personalities in her body, Suwa and Hazuki acting one way and actually being another), but I thought this in particular trod a lot of similar ground that Kozue did, and in a much less nuanced way. I also question the need to bring back a narrative discussion we already had in the main plot, and resolved the other way. And, like, who cares that it's Mia and not Yua? It has next to no impact on the story, just on her own personal arc, and that arc is only really introduced in the last section of the main plot anyway. Maybe it's because I've seen the exact same plot point in another game very recently (I won't give away which one, but it's a very popular RPG/VN), and done much better, but in this story, it doesn't do much for me.
Ayase's ending was also a bit of a disappointment for me. Part of Ayase's charm (other than imagining her insulting me while grinding her boots into my ass until it feels like my eyes are going to fall out of their sockets etc. etc.) is, honestly, the mystery. The fact that she spouts a bunch of complete BS but it all sort of does make sense and lines up with how the world actually works. I feel like this ending explores that all just a little too concretely. It does avoid coming to an exact conclusion, but it does sort of come out and confirm that she's genuinely just a bit insane, which imo is a shame. Doesn't help that it's based on the worst PHANTASM song :P. I came out of this ending feeling a bit less interested in her. Uh, narratively-speaking.
(The ending song is still a banger, as with most of the stuff Sakakibara sings)
Kozue's ending, on the other hand, was pretty great. This one picks up on a genuine part of her character - her will to kill - and shows us what it's really about. As insane as this might sound, there's just something thrilling about watching her mind go, and watching her kill a bunch of people without being in control. It felt like they actually had something to add to Kozue through this - although I did feel like the addition of the phone straps was a little random. Even so, Kozue was my least favourite character before this, but this ending made me like her a fair bit more.
(As a side note, after two endings where Rimi wasn't even present, her appearance in this one made me genuinely feel relief. Even if it was undercut later - in a scene that was, probably unintentionally, hilarious - by her betrayal, I just wanted to mention that.)
Sena's ending... is fine. It's got some further-reaching existential implications on the overall world of the story (it sounds a little like the World Layers I've heard show up in Anonymous;Code, but I haven't read that - please don't spoil that for me either :P), and I find it hilarious that Issei found the Ir2 formula due to the random display of Takumi's essay (and somehow understood what all the symbols meant? Like, E=mc² - the formula they compare it to a couple times - is also complete nonsense unless you know what the letters refer to), but the story itself is just a bit random. Kind of nice to see more of Sena, but overall, I'm pretty neutral regarding this one - though (and I feel bad saying this) Sena's singing doesn't do it for me, at all.
Finally, Rimi's ending. First of all, there were a fair number of added scenes throughout the main plot, and, to be honest, in this case, they did mostly feel relevant. They give us insights into not only Rimi's state of mind at certain points (something I don't think we ever really got to see, as opposed to with most other characters), but her relationship with Shogun on a 'normal' day (something we basically never got to see). Just the fact that they lived together in that hospital room is some pretty interesting new information.
Again, it takes the character's trauma and shows it to us - Rimi produces yet another personality. Honestly, that was the first moment since I first read the B ending that this story genuinely thrilled me again. What a great moment.
And it just keeps going. As with the B ending, we experience some torture first-hand. We don't learn much new stuff here, but it's just really effective to see it play out directly. And it's genuinely touching when Rimi comes back. Just a great ending, all around. Might even be the only chapter in the whole VN I have no issues with.
(...although I do think the ending song is a bit high-energy for the sort of bittersweet feel of the ending. Though maybe it's optimistic. It's definitely not the worst fit :P)
The last ending is the same as what I've seen before, in the original game. Some added cutscenes, and a little more drama (the quiz is longer than last time, too, and I can't say I appreciated seeing Takumi and Nanami kiss again), but it's more or less the same. I did like the new CGs at the end, though. It all works really well.
​
So, yeah, did the endings fix all my issues?
...No. I'm still unconvinced by Suwa and Hazuki as villains, for example - they're not very interesting in that capacity, and no matter how good they are in the endings, it still doesn't retroactively make the reveals any better. Ban and Momose get no new scenes, either, so I still don't particularly care about them. I did come out with a better appreciation for Kozue, though.
Overall, the endings feel rather tacked-on. A couple of them have interesting thematic links to the rest of the story (Nanami's being the most interesting, but that's in my other post, and Rimi's being just all-round great), but they do generally feel sort of fanfiction-y, which is a shame in a series where alternate endings generally serve a narrative purpose outside their own existence (Steins;Gate's alternate endings, for the most part, answer questions of "why can't we just do [X]"; whereas Chaos;Child's give us important insights into the characters, as well as genuinely taking place, on some level, in the story). It's obvious why this is, of course - they genuinely were tacked on, and perhaps the writers hadn't gotten to the point of thinking as deeply about their alternate endings as they did when they wrote Steins;Gate - but explaining a problem doesn't solve it.
I'm also just slightly sad to lose the parallels in the endings. The original three endings are all variants on "Takumi's lying down, unable to move, and Rimi's there as he dies (or doesn't)", and that's some pretty great storytelling that's sort of lost here. But I can appreciate that nine different variants on that could be pretty challenging to write naturally. Just thought I'd point it out.
​
Chaos;Head Noah, just like the original story, is a mess. I can't express quite how impressive I find it that they followed this story up, a couple years later, with Steins;Gate, one of the most tightly constructed and emotionally charged stories I've ever read/seen. As I've said before, though, there's some really, really good stuff in here, it's just diluted by a lot of boring or messy writing. Overall, it's probably C-tier for me, among the SciAdv stories.
But it sticks the landing, and, as I'm writing this here, I'm feeling like I have to dredge back up my feelings of frustration or boredom or confusion at much of the story, because it ended really well.
Do I think Chaos;Head Noah is a good story? Not really. But there's enough novelty and genuine good writing in here, and it's connected to some of the best stories I've ever read, that I can genuinely say I'm glad I went through it again.

I was hesitant to post here due to relevance, but this post is made for budding psychics like me hitting a wall in their groundwork, so I think this does fit under development. If it's not relevant enough, then that's fair. There's a few resources, but not many for psychics who struggle with ptsd which inspired me to create this post.
Mentions of lucid dreaming, awakening, basic psychic groundwork, astral projecting, shadow work and mentions of metaphysical sources.
​
Cw: brief mentions of trauma and trauma related topics. Brief mention of a NDE without details of event.
I am not a mental health professional. Most of what is below are anecdotal with sources added. I am also not a professional spiritual practitioner. I’ve only practiced spiritually for over a year. I don’t do readings for others at the time of this post.
Below I will talk about my experiences with ptsd/c-ptsd and the struggle with basic mindfulness practices. Even looking for free resources online, I see articles claiming that mindfulness is a solution to dealing with trauma, but it’s not that simple. If you have ptsd and have found yourself struggling with basic mindfulness you are not a failure. This is common for those who have experienced severe and/or prolonged trauma. You just need to go about your practice in a different way. I will also talk about how visualization isn't universally accessible to everyone.
Let’s start out with visualization. As much as I love Psychic Witch by Matt Auryn, he relies heavily on visualization. One of the reasons I appreciate The Illusion of Method by Mark Gurrian is that he acknowledges some of us can’t visualize. Some may read my anecdotes and only get words on a page, versus seeing a man/woman dealing with the situations that I describe. In his book, Mark(technique originally created by Robert Bruce) describes an aphantasia/ low-vision- friendly way on how one would astral project by meditating on the sensation of climbing a rope out of their body.
Even though I don’t have aphantasia, this inspired me to utilize sensation over visualization for when my anxiety made visuals hard. The feeling of knowing I’m connected to the earth and the consciousness that runs through all things can get me grounded. The sensation of warmth in my chest concentrating as I call my energy to me can make me feel centered. The sensation of a click of energy around me can make me feel shielded.
I also have the privilege of insight in the low-vision and blind community as my partner is low-vision. Both she and her fully blind friend are advanced lucid dreamers. I will link the free MILD guide below along with other resources on lucid dreaming. I won’t speak personally on this because I’m not a good lucid dreamer and wouldn’t do it justice.
Mindfulness and trauma:
When I was a teen, I sought out a middle school counselor. She recommended meditation, breathwork, and yoga. I remember trying my best, but couldn’t. Terrifying imagery appeared when I shut my eyes. Focusing on my breath reminded me of a NDE I had and she did not teach me to reorient my focus onto something else that wasn’t triggering. She also wasn’t aware how different posture and poses were triggering for me (and I didn’t know better to tell her). One time, she did yoga with me, instructing me to focus on my breath. I started to panic and she told me to tell her what I was experiencing. She guided me straight into a panic attack. The whole day I was dissociative and shaky, having intrusive thoughts about my body suddenly dying.
Around the same time I sought massage therapy on my own for pain and the therapist told me she had never seen a kid who couldn’t relax or was as tense as me before. She recommended meditation, but I explained that for some reason I couldn’t do it. She was baffled because she never heard of meditation causing a panic attack before, either. Also not helpful were my parents' lack of an appropriate reaction to my NDE and their beliefs that my chronic problems weren't real.
These practices were too much for me and I didn’t find anyone who understood complex and severe trauma. What was going on was that these basic mindfulness practices were outside of my window of tolerance, which is described in David Trevealen's Trauma Sensitive Mindfulness. I knew the school counselor couldn't provide what I needed- a trauma informed therapist. I never got correct treatment for my issues until I was an adult because my parents were resistant to what I wanted. I was on my own, reading books of other people that lived tough lives to gain some sort of validation. Overall, this left me feeling like I was a failure. Then as I got older I would scoff at anyone who recommended meditation. My partner experienced similar issues and we both came to the conclusion meditation just wasn't a solution everyone made it out to be for anxiety. What I didn't know from teenage through young adult years was that I was going about mindfulness the wrong way for my specific issues.
In his book Trauma Sensitive Mindfulness, David Treleaven talks about how mindfulness can actually exasperate PTSD symptoms. For the survivor, the mind is no longer a safe place. We are locked in a fight, flight, or freeze state. Our brains are hypervigilant for cues that might indicate we're in danger again. When we close our eyes with nothing to distract ourselves, we see those triggering images again.
A lot of the time, we are flip-flopping between states of anxiety and reactivity to numbness and dissociation. David talks about the sweet spot between the two as the window of tolerance. An experience doesn't have to be pleasant, but tolerable. It's important for us to recognize when we're going too far in either direction. Cognitive behavior therapy can be helpful here if you lack the tools to self regulate (like me). David talks about the scale of arousal. My psychologist uses a SUDS scale. Basically, a way for you to determine where you are emotionally so you can be mindful of it.
Getting a little older and out on my own, I started to realize I had a problem. My plastic pitcher fell on me while I was cleaning one day. I swung uselessly in the air and then grabbed my pitcher before slamming it onto the floor and shattering it. I then burst into tears because that was my only measuring cup and I was broke. There were holes in the walls and doors from several one man fights.
I didn't like the person I was and felt like my outbursts were making things uncomfortable for my best friend despite her support.
I went to a nearby school for psychology where I got counsel for free.
This was the first person who recognized my PTSD and taught me a grounding exercise when I'd be confronted with imagery and felt I was in danger.
"What are three things that you see in this room?"
"What are three things you hear?"
"What are three things you smell?"
"What are three things you can feel?"
I found myself back in session, no longer face-to-face with family. I was back. The more I used this exercise, the easier it became to regulate myself. I eventually could watch the fight or flight surge through me like a wave as if an objective observer. I was in control.
I still use this technique for when I'm unwell. Currently, I pay attention to my bodily sensations like what is mentioned in the above paragraph, then to my environment, and where I am in space and time- that I’m safe. When I finish up astral projecting, I’ll hone in on what I’m experiencing with my senses to integrate with my body again.
In Trauma Sensitive Mindfulness, David talks about this grounding technique in his first chapter with a client that had outbursts like mine. He instructed him to focus on the sensation of the chair against his back and his feet firmly planted to keep himself grounded in present reality.
While I could ground myself back down, I struggled with more mindfulness- especially breath work. The student counselor at the time would try to ease me into it, but it reminded me too much of my NDE- even 7 years post. She also wanted me to do a Body Scan where I would focus on my body, relaxing different parts from head to toe. This sustained attention on my body was also too much for me. We kept hitting walls. Some of my issues with my body and pain were not relatable to most of those students. I was recommended to look into SSRIs, but at the time I didn’t have insurance or any way to afford it. It was a great service, but it was time to move on.
Eventually landing a solid career meant I could have normal healthcare. Finding the right SSRI was tricky, but once we found it, it was a whole new world.
My anxiety was 80 percent better. After over a decade of locked in fight or flight, I could finally relax. I think it was starting this SSRI all those years ago that made it possible for me to even begin mindfulness involving breathwork last year and I can still incorporate breath work today to elevate or decrease my state depending on where I was emotionally.
There are many forms of breathwork techniques- if they work for you. It's important to stay within what's tolerable and be honest with yourself, then be gentle with your answer.
In Matt Auryn's Psychic Witch there are numerous techniques like elemental, solar, and lunar breathing. Some do well with square breathing. I was recently advised to utilize breath work to bring me back to equilibrium. If I was dissociative and numb, to extend the inhale and then breathe out. To bring myself back down from anxiety to breathe, hold, and extend my exhale.
Another way I enjoyed breath work in the very beginning of my spiritual practices was to take advantage of the mammalian diving reflex. In the tub, river, or pool, I would dunk my head and slowly exhale through my nose. The roaring bubbles would also drown out the sound of my heartbeat, which I couldn't tolerate.
In Consorting With Spirits Jason Miller's description of becoming your breath in meditation made the trance state click with me when I first started.
With my window of tolerance even lower than before, right now I gravitate to forms of mindfulness that involve movement, which has proven to be helpful for those of us with ptsd. I like yoga, where I can look at and hear an instructor. I can also be extremely picky and choose the one who is most comfortable. I can’t do yoga in a studio, but I can do it in the safety of my home in front of a computer with no eyes on me. There’s many styles of yoga available for free online on youtube if this also speaks to you. You may also enjoy the free Tai Chi lessons there, too.
Sometimes mindfulness can be a challenge for well seasoned practitioners, too. A traumatic event could take place and cause an avid meditator to no longer tolerate their practice. If this is you, be kind with yourself. You might only tolerate short meditation sessions, or to meditate with your eyes open. Maybe you need to hear music, or a guide who will talk you through it. If you can’t tolerate it at all, put your practice aside or find a method that’s tolerable for you or take a break altogether.
Starting last year, my budding practice was what kept me here. I was experiencing an awakening during a stressful time. I stubbled a lot and still do, but my meditation game was starting to get a foothold. When I finally learned Ground, Center, and Shield I did it everyday. I started using meditation to work on my issues and got breakthroughs in how I was seeing myself and my emotions. Parts of me were coming back. I was finally able to feel my heartbeat in my chest (for short amounts of time) without terror for the first time in 16 years.
I was excited and passionate, but I’ll talk more about overdoing shadow work in another post. Just know that if you’re not mindful of where your tolerance is, you can re-traumatize yourself, which is why Shadow work is recommended to be done with a trauma-informed style of therapy.
Overall, mindfulness can be a great resource to those of us with trauma in order to heal, though it needs to be done in a way that’s sensitive to our triggers and catered to our individual needs or it can do more harm than good. You may recommend meditation to a friend, but they struggle with it. They may not tell you they have trauma, but use language like “I can’t focus”, “or “maybe it isn’t for me” because that’s easier to say. Maybe it isn’t trauma, but the majority of resources are visual and that isn’t accessible to them for whatever reason. There needs to be a sense of choice in how a survivor chooses to practice because we have already lost our autonomy through trauma. It may look a little different from how others practice. We need to feel safe in our practice and sometimes for us our body and minds are not safe. I think we should be sensitive to those who struggle with mindfulness, including ourselves.
Additional information:
What is ptsd -> https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/post-traumatic-stress-disordesymptoms-causes/syc-20355967
What's the difference between c-ptsd and ptsd?-> https://cptsdfoundation.org/2022/12/14/the-difference-between-ptsd-and-c-ptsd-and-why-it-matters/
Trauma-informed mindfulness (ft David Treleaven)-> https://psychcentral.com/health/trauma-informed-mindfulness#can-mindfulness-cause-harm
What is a SUDS rating scale?-> https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-a-suds-rating-3024471
What is astral projecting? ->https://www.gaia.com/article/what-is-astral-projection
What is Anphantasia?-> https://www.webmd.com/brain/what-is-aphantasia
What is lucid dreaming? -> https://www.webmd.com/sleep-disorders/lucid-dreams-overview
Skyfall Blind Dreamer MILD guide(lucid dreaming)-> https://skyfalldreams.net/guides/skyfalls-mild-guide/
Stephen LaBerge's article on MILD(creator of MILD)->https://docs.google.com/document/d/1J0EwChB45i3bLFKsc3JUMUy6iaMyRkYic2QMRGjIg_E/edit
Other techniques on lucid dreaming-> https://www.ldguides.com/techniques.php
Books mentioned:
Trauma Sensitive Mindfulness by David Treleaven
Illusion Of method by Mark Gurrian
Psychic Witch by Matt Aurnyn
Consorting with Spirits by Jason Miller
Additional Recommended reads:
The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Traumaby Bessel van der Kolk
Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay C. Gibson, PsyD
Soul Retrival by Sandra ingerman

Art of Simone's upgraded power armor and crystal sword!
Chapter Sixty Five: Allies and Scritches.
Looking around, the redhead finds herself standing in the middle of a dark and damp forest. But despite the gentle waves of the breeze moving the flora, there’s no sound. To the Terran’s recognizing eye as well, the plant life appears to be a blending mingle of those on the Gratt homeworld and the fateful operation on the Whista owned world.
Moving forward, her surprisingly lucid mind comes to the conclusion that she is once again ‘dreaming’, no doubt being brought on by the growth in her braincase.
She finds a loose path reminiscent of an overgrown hunter's trail that snakes her deeper into the silent landscape. Although something instinctual in her demands to be fearful of the situation, Simone can’t help to be more curious than anything due to the fact this hasn’t happened in a little while.
After some time of traversing the blending path she catches something glinting off past nearby foliage. Freezing for a moment she stares it down in an attempt to make out what it is. When it proves to not be a barrel of a weapon, she approaches it and reaches out. Her bare hand touches the glint, causing it to fully take form before resting in her palm. In a light dug she draws the dangling object free from a thin branch and brings it up close to her face.
On a thin necklace chain is a bent dog tag and a small grimy triangular device. Manipulating the tag, Simone is not at all surprised to find her own name on it. But as for the device, she surmises that it’s very similar to the thing implanted to her forehead after being kidnapped by the children of Gaia, though clearly a differing model with possibly a very different purpose.
For a moment Simone is almost compelled to put the triangle to her head, but knowing better than to trust the bits of a Manarian mad scientist in her brain she resists and decides to continue down the path. But to her concern the path is no longer there when she turns around. Instead before her is a cliffside overlooking a wide field of absolute chaos.
Down in the valley she overlooks is an expanse of a visceral battle playing out. No longer silent, the explosions and cries of vocals are significantly muffled as if her own hearing was going out.
Still, she steps closer to the drop to get a fuller view. Far down below, yet in perfect clarity to her dream eyes are various sized armies of every known species defending incoming forces from the dark encircling treeline. From the trees themselves are lines of armored Manarians consistently pressing more and more into the valley. From all sides the defenders are overwhelmed from their foes. Few Manarian’s drop in their compressing march. Simone witnesses that as they approach individuals of other species, the defenders throw down their arms before kneeling in surrender. Like an aura of instant submission, those who don’t fall in battle give in to the invaders in an instant. More and more the Manarians gain ground, only seeming to slow as Deathworlders put up the most fight.
Finding the location of the Terrans, Simone’s heart sinks. A small but effective population is fighting against the bulk within their own lines. Disarray ensues as the Terrans divide their bewildered attention from within and what approaches, unable to give support to others or eventually themselves.
Suddenly the majority of the Cali forces turn to their neighboring species and join in on the Manarian’s side. In the midst of this they release a devastating additional army of Malchite that help carve the Manarians an easy path towards the most united and powerful section of the defenders.
In mere moments, ‘Central’ falls, sending a cascading wave of despair to all the remaining defenders. Before the Manarian’s even get close now, swaths of species begin to surrender seeing their best chance at maintaining a defense is obliterated.
Thankfully the Terrans have seemed to have taken care of the internal conflict, but unfortunately it's far too late for it to matter as they practically stand alone in this fight.
Some species flee to bolster and hide behind the Terran’s lines. To their credit, if not for a moment, they fight back hard enough to pause the Manarian advance. There’s moments of grim yet heroic sacrifices, ground freely given in order to lure the enemy into effective traps, and some Terrans manage to not give into the aura of submission long enough for others to run. It’s damn inspiring to see the unstoppable force stall.
But of course, it’s not enough.
Lines break, encampments burn, leaders fall.
Eventually Terrans are reduced to a single circular formation as they stand shoulder to shoulder in defense of the little they have left.
They hold until their ammunition and other supplies run dry. Expecting surrender the Manarains extend the option to stop the fighting then and there.
In a moment of consideration, the Terrans under the flag of their last standing leader charge outwards in a hopeless defiant melee. The fighting is visceral and brutal, but eventually only one Terran stands against an entire universe.
The individual has no energy left to strike out. In their grasp is a tattered and burned flag that can no longer be made out. But the Terran stands, using it as a brace.
A Manarian leader comes up and hammers the final Terran to the ground demanding submission. A few now utterly silent moments pass by before the Terran drags themself up the flagpole into a standing position.
With another blow the Manarian strikes them down again.
But the Terran refuses, and gets up once more.
Having run out of patience the Manarian shoots a leg cleanly free from the Terran.
Yet with a scream, they remain standing, utilizing the pole even more.
Deciding that it’s no longer worth trying, the aggressor levels their weapon to the Terran’s face.
Just before being vanquished for good, Simone realizes that through the cracked open helmet of the Terran that they were looking straight up at her. Despite the distance, the two sets of eyes lock together. There is not pleading in the wounded Terran’s eyes, no fear, no judgment, nothing Simone would ever expect.
What the redhead sees in them can only be expressed in one simple word;
Hope.
As the final shot sings out the valley is encompassed in shadow, resembling more of an massive endless pit.
“I know what’s at stake. Why am I being shown this? You of all people should be elated that this is coming.” Simone thinks for Sharra to possibly pick up.
But instead of an expected occurrence, she feels a warmth from behind her.
Turning her back from the void she immediately sees a small campsite. There’s a tent, a stack of scavenged firewood and a strange cliché knight sitting on a log by a roaring fire.
Feeling her heart skip a beat Simone practically runs to him, expecting it to be an aspect of her father. But she soon realizes that the person’s frame is far too small to be an avatar of him.
Noticing her, the armored individual raises a hand in greeting before staring at the fire. The area behind their visor still pitch dark.
“What is this?” Simone skeptically says in her mind, not trusting this in the slightest.
The knight then speaks up.
“A fire.” they say.
“I mean… all of this… What’s going on?” the Terran presses.
You’re dreaming, and thus your mind is molding things in the manner minds do when slumbering.’ the knight states.
“Okay… so what are you supposed to be? Because with what’s going on with my head a lot of things I ‘dream’ are actually literal things affecting me, like you actually answering my question so directly is pretty suspicious. This a Sharra thing? Usually it’s my dad in the knight get-up, so what are you?” Simone responds in questioning.
“Nothing of substance at all. Or… something vitally important. That’s really up for you to decide really. This is your mind after all, I’m simply here because your mind thought it necessary to conjure me.” the Knight replies.
“But this isn’t how dreams are normally supposed to work, even more lucid ones… right? This is getting real fucking weird.” the redhead argues.
“Then perhaps your mind’s ailment is affecting your mind quite a bit.” the Knight shrugs.
“No fucking kidding…” Simone agrees as she steps up closer, “So… you wouldn’t know where I can talk with whatever’s left of Sharra?”
To answer this, the knight bends to the side and digs their hand into loose soil. Sitting back up they begin to massage it back out to the forest floor.
“Bits and pieces everywhere. Constantly trying to pull together, but is simply unable to be whole. Destined to eventually drive you mad.” they explain.
“Wait, what? How?” Simone asks.
“You have been affected by her unconsciously, have you not? Wanting to viscously bite your lover? Speaking in her tongue? Symptoms of her gradually melding into you. Although she’s not complete, you will eventually start to forget who you really are. Two minds sharing one consciousness… it spells disaster for ‘Simone Thatch’. I suggest you find a way to avoid this.”
“But… but Vermis told me that she’s too far gone to be a problem.” the redhead points out.
“She can’t take your body from you, but she’ll still seep. Regardless if she can even intend to or not. Your mind will survive, but your identity will slip to some degree.”
“Shit…” Simone responds as she plants her face to her hands, “So… your part of my subconscious that is telling me something is wrong?”
“Possibly. Makes sense if that’s the case.” the knight grants as Simone can hear the helmet be removed from the individual.
She attempts to pull her hands away, only to realize she was stuck in this realm of pitch black.
-
Simone’s eyes open from what was meant to just be a brief nap. Her brain was foggy, and the details of her dream was loose enough to question her actual lucidity during or if her dream simply tricked her into thinking she was in fact lucid.
Rubbing her face she sits up to see Chak having a conversation with Sonla across the hotel room.
“Hey hun, how long was I out?” she asks as she swings her legs off the side of the bed.
The princess stands up and begins moving over to the Terran.
“Just a few hours, I was planning on waking you in another hour anyway so don’t fret. You really needed it after everything.” Chak replies with a giggle as she reaches out to address her lover’s bedhead fur.
Allowing the Cali to fix what she can, Simone sighs out of soreness.
“Yeah, I did.” she agrees in a chuckle, “Our new infiltrator caught up to speed?”
“I haven’t shared certain details, but she knows that we are perhaps going to have a less than legal encounter with the Terran President. That won’t harm the president, hopefully.” Chak reports before finishing up with the Terran’s fur, “Oh, and I have purchased some new clothes for you to wear on our trip back. They were delivered not a standard half hour ago. Simple pants and shirt. Your dress has been cleaned and repaired as well.” she notified as she pointed to the closet area.
SImone leans out and kisses the Cali in a tender peck.
“You’re the best hun.” she whispers before standing up and stretching out the ache before striding over to the neatly folded pile of clothes.
“Only second to you.” Chak coyly replies as she enjoys the view for a few moments before snapping to it, “I’ll have our transport summoned.”
…
Before the three can even depart out the front door, as the elevator door opens there’s a crowd of people waiting for them in the lobby. Simone opens her mouth to ask what was going on, but Chak swiftly presses the indicator to re-close the door.
“Chakalata’motaas! One moment of your time!”
“Princess there’s some questions regarding public property damage!”
“When was the last correspondence you had with your father!”
“Is the Terran really your fiance or a roleplay consort?”
Among other raising voices upon seeing the Cali the reporters swarmed towards the elevator just before the door closed and started to go up a level.
“Wow…” Simone utters, “I thought we’d be a bit more shielded from them?”
“If they reserved rooms at the hotel after learning we were here… then there’s not much that can be done.” Chak replies a bit troubled, “We just need to find another way-”
As the door opens again, even more people stand in wait.
“Oh princess! Was your appearance on Thorba the truthful’s podcast really you or did he use A.I to replicate your voice?”
“Was it you present on Kamoi roughly a standard year ago where a restaurant was destroyed in a terrorist attack? Were you the target?”
“What business do you have in Central? Are you going to appeal to have your father’s authority be unrecognized?”
“Have you spoken at all to the Cali Ambassador?
“Care to share any details over the events that transpired with Ambassador Zrreak’s son last night?”
“Is the Vorook also a lover of yours?”
“Is your chitin really deep-dyed?”
“Are you still in fear for your life?”
“Are Terrans-”
The elevator door sealed again, this time needing Simone to hold back people from potentially creeping into the elevator.
“I guess we’re going back down to make a run for it?” Simone huffs in immense annoyance.
“Unfortunately that appears to be our only option.” Chak nods, her patience being tested as well.
“Want me to make big explosion as a distraction?” Sonla offers.
“No need for that.” Chak replies quickly.
“Here. I’ll march us out. Sonla, get on my back.” Simone says before she kneels down and scoops up the Cali in her arms, “Still as light as a feather.” she winks.
Chak’s eyes flash.
“They’ll be given quite the show.” she chuckles.
As told, Sonla clambers up the back of the Terran and gets a firm hold around her neck.
“If an explosion is needed, I’m ready!” she declares just before the doors open for the final time.
Using her cradling arm under the Cali’s back, Simone uses her curled up hand to protect Chak’s head as she marches straight into the crowd.
None wanting to test to see if the bulky Terran considers trampling a valid option, a path is cleared. However the barrage of questions does not let up in the slightest as they followed the trio towards the front doors.
“What was the intention of your stay here?”
“When and where will your wedding to the Terran occur?”
“Is it true that Simone Thatch is a war criminal?”
“Have you suffered any injury while being intimate with a Terran?”
“How many Terrans have you mated with? Are all the ones you brought with you your harem?”
“Are you certain that you are the last survivor of your family?
“Are the Gratt to be trusted?”
“Have you encountered any bouncy hunters in Central?”
“Is the famed Admiral Chucknuq still in your service?”
“Have you been hiding out this whole time on Vapor’perna?”
“Are you planning on commencing a civil war?”
“How much are you paying the Terran to be your mate?”
To the dismay of Chak and Simone, the crowd only grew upon leaving the hotel’s premises. And even contributed around where their shuttle was landing.
Although not completely serious about it, SImone started to humor the idea of Sonla causing a distraction before sharp roaring barks erupts from nearby.
The questions all stop and even a few calls of distress ring out as everyone catches sight of a dozen uniformed Z’ah’tucks approach. In a wide line formation they release warning -though no doubt perceived as outright ‘threatening’- vocalizations. More cries ring out as they unleash fur covered mammalian quadrupeds that run ahead to the trio and begin guiding the reporters away through fear alone.
Simone couldn’t help but laugh aloud at the sight of the Terran shepherd dogs doing what their breed did best.
A Tromple recoils in pale terror as they worm away from one of the canines, who did nothing but exist with an authoritative attitude.
Very effectively parting the crowd away from the three, the lead Z’ah’tuck waved Simone to come to her.
Seeing little reason not to, considering the rescue, the Terran nods and hurries the two other women on her to the line of dinos.
“Thanks, but… what’s this about?” she asks.
The pack of a dozen dinos encircle the three and start walking them away to another shuttle landing zone. The dogs loyally come back to their owners as they make sufficient distance.
“As an apology for you having to get involved with last night’s events, Ambassador Zrreak wishes to personally escort you back to your designated apartment.” she answers as three shuttles await them in the zone. The biggest and most armored of which opens up for the three to enter.
“Oh…” Chak utters in thought before Simone lets her down to enter the vessel.
As the princess steps on in, it’s clear this vessel is meant to fit many guests within on a regular basis considering the scuffing and scratch marks. But at this moment there is only one individual within.
Looking much like his son, Zrreak is of the larger variant of his species. Covered in various deep scars across his scales and adorned in high quality drapery he pets a smaller breed of dog in his lap.
“Thank you for accepting my invitation, Princess.” he greets with a respectful bow of his head.
“Of course, we very much appreciate your assistance with the media swarm.” Chak replies before she finds herself a seat.
“You can get off now…” Simone informs Sonla before following the Cali in.
The Vorook slowly slides down the Terran and does her best to position herself to hide behind the redhead as much as possible, eventually sitting down in a seat that has the larger frame of the Terran between her and the ambassador.
Simone looks the ambassador in the eyes with a hint of weariness. Although she isn’t necessarily suspicious, with the still very significant bounty on her fiance’s head… one can never be too careful. She waits until the seal of the shuttle door clicks shut before speaking up herself.
“Cute corgi, does it have a name?” she inquires.
“Hmmhmm” the Z’ah’tuck hums in amusement as he lightly scratches the canine on it’s rump, causing it to lift its head and perk its ears, “His name is Zioakaa, a play on the Z’ah’tuck title meaning ‘One who has seen the Abyss, and made it weep’. Such a title is usually reserved for artists or passionate leaders. People who can invoke a great shift of public morale, whether it be for sorrow, fear or hope. This dog? Although he is no small part of my public image, he has shifted my morale extraordinarily.” he answers in a relatively reminiscing voice.
Seeing his genuine soft appreciation for the animal is clear as day to Simone, she allows herself to relax as the shuttle takes off with two additional escorts.
“Dogs are pretty great, huh?” Simone chuckles.
“Possibly the best of everything your people have brought to the stars.” the man agrees, “Despite losing a long war with Terrans, Z’ah’tuck certainly gained from it in some aspects.”
“Crazy how that hashes out. And hey, more dogs in the universe? I’ll take it.” the redhead replies before peeking over to Sonla, who was tucking her legs up to make her silhouette smaller.
“Oh, how is your son fairing Ambassador Zrreak? And the others in his and his wife’s company?” Chak asks pleasantly.
“He has been advised to be in bed for a few days, but will make a full recovery. The others will recover as well, but those more substantially injured will of course need a fair bit more recovery.”
“That’s very good to hear. Be sure to pass along our best wishes.” the Princess replies with a nod of her head.
“I will. Though I must apologize for your involvement in his incident. Such business should have been avoided in the first place.” Zrreak says as he extends one of his hands out to Chak, which she accepts sooner than he would have expected from a Cali.
“Thank you for the gesture, the involvement was voluntary, I assure you. Believe it or not Ambassador, I have conducted myself in more perilous situations as you can no doubt imagine.” Chak says pleasantly, “Though I have a feeling you’ve brought us aboard your own personal shuttle with other motives in mind, yes?”
Simone tenses up again as the Ambassador’s raptor eyes focus on the Princess for a moment.
Tilting his horned head, Zrreak then lets out a ‘caught me red handed’ snicker before pulling his hand away.
“Yes, yes you’re right indeed. Though I assure you it has little to do with the price on your head. As much as I still enjoy a good hunt, I’m not one to prey upon my own allies. No, what I hope to discuss is ensuring you are reinstated as the prime monarch of the Cali people.” he reveals.
“Oh… pardon Zrreak… what exactly do you mean by that?” Chak asks as she recovers from such a bold notion.
“I’ve decided to place my bets on you, Chakalata’motaas. I bring you an offer already officiated over by my people’s leaders for you to respond. May I officially present it to you in this rather unofficial setting?” he inquires.
“Very well, but I cannot make a promise that I’ll be receptive to what you offer.” Chak grants as she crosses her lower limbs in her lap.
Zrreak presses an indication in a side datapad, activating a hardlight screen to appear along the middle open area of the shuttle. The text on the screen outlines the terms of the proposal to which the ambassador presents it aloud.
“This proposed bargain has been rattling around the Z’ah’tuck trade leaders since the coup of your father. Though it hinged on whether or not you or any of your siblings survived. Seeing you are indeed alive and making concerted efforts towards freeing your people from his tyrannical rule one way or another you fit the criteria. And so here it is; The Z’ah’tuck Conglomerate will publicly support your right to the Cali throne, and it is prepared to dedicate one-sixth of its war fleets and the Third-fang battalion to aid in the likely event of military conflict.” he pauses to let that settle before continuing, “In return, the Conglomerate requests that the Cali government agree to contribute Ten percent more Natural-grade product and twenty five percent more Clone-grade product to the Z’ah’tuck meat market trade for the next fifty standard year period. Secondly it is also requested that Cali shipyards produce Twenty five hundred trade-ships by Conglomerate provided specifications in the next five standard years. Thirdly, permit Z’ah’tuck trade businesses to set up shop on Cali colonies. Fourth and finally, vote and publicly advocate for the Z’ah’Tuck people to be officiated out of ‘Associate Species’ into ‘Member Species’ status in Central.” he finishes.
Chak scratches the sides of her head with her lower graspers as she seriously considers the alliance deal. It’s an incredible opportunity. With the Z’ah’tucks big economic pull among the carnivorous species of Central -despite them currently being of ‘Associate’ status- this could be very advantageous. But the cost for the support was fairly high, yet not totally unreasonable.
“Your offer is rather tempting, Ambassador. Though I cannot see myself agreeing to it as it stands. You see if open civil war does break out, then I fear my people will need a period of time to stabilize, especially economically. People will need to be fed, buildings rebuilt, and damage to our world repaired. So here’s my counter offer for your consideration;” she says as she reaches out in request for the datapad, of which is candidly handed to her for her to revise the terms for consideration, “Lower the twenty five percent for cloned product to twenty. Provide charitable relief shelter camps where displaced Cali can be warm and well fed during the war campaign, which may prove to be a great source of building up positive relations with not only my people but many others sitting in Member Central seats. And finally agree to grant Cali trade ships official access to Conglomerate trade routes with reduced fines by thirty percent. The rest of your terms are acceptable.” she responds.
“Hmmm…” Zrreak mumbles as he stares at the screen. He brings a claw to his armored muzzle, dragging it along a deep old scarring, “I have the authority to negotiate the terms within reason, and although I know a few trade managers will be disgruntled I believe your counter terms are acceptable.” he nods before transferring the developed agreement to the datapad for both parties to sign.
The Z’ah’Tuck signs first before handing the pad over.
Suppressing her eyes from blasting light to not give away how she honestly felt about this deal, Chak re-reads the entire agreement twice to make absolutely certain that there are no possible term manipulations. The Z’ah’tuck are known to be honerable in terms of business, but one can never be too careful in this realm of dealing.
Once she is certain of all the terms, Chak signs as well and hands it back.
“Your gamble on me is appreciated, Ambassador. I will do everything in my power to ensure that my father is deposed. With your aid, I see the path towards that even more clearer.” she assures.
“Time will tell. And to be honest, we stand to lose little until conflict is certain. The biggest risk we run is a prolonged open war with the Cali. Central history is not kind to Deathworlders declaring war on non-deathworlders, even under these circumstances we may risk being ousted completely from Central. Though I’m doubtful considering our stranglehold on the meat markets. Who else would they turn to? The Truba? With their reputation and recent enormous debacle? I don’t think so.” Zrreak chuckles as he returns to petting his lap dog.
“Such a travesty…” Chak agrees, “Is there more you can share regarding that situation?”
“Just that these Squilla understandably don’t have much of a government. They dwelled in deeper waters and complex cave systems in their comparative ‘iron age’. They are incredibly fast learners, however. Which gives most of the Central council the impression that the Truba have been suppressing the Squilla’s growth as a people for literal ages. I don’t think anything like this has ever happened in known galactic history. It’s still all a mess unfortunately, but important first steps have been taken. I’ve spoken to the representative of the Squilla only a few times, and seeing him come to terms with reality is bittersweet.” the ambassador explained.
“I see. Perhaps I may have a chance to meet him while I’m in central.” Chak says with a shrug.
“It’s a long line to privately meet in an official manner, which is to no surprise I assume?” Zrreak informs.
“Of course, perhaps not then.” Chak concedes.
Wide eyed, Simone looks back and forth between the two.
“Sorry, uhm… I feel like what just happened earlier is a pretty big fucking deal… Military support? Not that I’m complaining, but I’d imagine something like that having a bit more bureaucracy? A quick back and forth and it’s a done deal?” she questioned, utterly bewildered.
“This is how backroom deals tend to go, Simone, you know that.” Chak replies as she reaches a hand to take hold of one of the redhead’s.
She then squeezes in trembling excitement to show that she was putting up a polite professional act.
“Right. Yeah.” Simone corrects herself as she huffs a pant of jubilated air.
The ambassador turns to look at the Terran directly.
“Simone Thatch. If you're at liberty to confirm, through some dealings we have received interesting intel regarding a Terran group that calls itself the ‘Children of Gaia’. Have you encountered them previously?” he inquires.
“Ah, uhm… I know about them. But that’s all I’m really willing to share at this time. What sort of dealings are you referring to exactly?” the Terran responds.
“Nothing nefarious, at least at the surface. We have traded for strange breeds of dogs, tracing their origins to that group. We suspect that they are these ‘pirates’ that invaded the Gratt homeworld. Would that be correct?” Zrreak presses, now looking back and forth between the Terran and Cali.
Chak sighs but nods.
“That would be correct.” she admits.
“Why hide that fact?” the ambassador asks.
“Well, there's a reason to. And I’m afraid we can’t share why, but rest assured their identity will be broadly revealed in due time. Soon, if we can help it, but we have to secure a few things first.” Chak explains, “Apologies for withholding information from you, but I ask that the Conglomerate not share intel of the group for the time being.” Chak requests.
“I can’t promise such, but if it’s in your interest to wait, then it is likely ours as well.” Zrreak grants, “But if we found what we have, others are likely to as well. So I hope whatever you are planning comes around soon, Princess.” he adds.
“As do I, and trust me I understand.” Chak says as she squeezes Simone’s hand once more, “They are our enemies and what we intend to do is to dismantle them.” she assures.
“Ah, I hope you don’t mind a single stop before arriving at your apartment. I have a gift that I wish to present to you.” Zrreak announces after he seems to have received a notification on his Lens.
“Oh, how kind of you. What manner of gift?” Chak inquires.
“One that in some small way may bolster your personal security.” the ambassador vaguely answered a bit coyly.
“Oh joy…” Simone says, unsure if they’d be able to comfortably take on another staff member on the Kwip-chap.
…
Soaring down into a tight one way entrance tunnel, the shuttle eventually comes to a latching stop before being lifted up into an unloading room.
“Come, step out. It’s being brought to us.” Zrreak instructs as he stands and strides out.
Preparing themselves to politely turn his offer down, Simone and Chak step out after him. Sonla on the other hand decided then would be a perfect time to raid the fancy meat snacks she’d been eyeing for most of the trip.
As the three stand just outside the shuttle in wait, it takes only a few minutes for a Z’ah’tuck to turn a corner and enter the room.
“Unfortunately I don’t think we’ll have room to properly accommodate-” Chak begins to say before feeling her legs freeze up in sudden numbness as a beast comes trailing behind the Z’ah’tuck.
Simone’s eye tufts lift in surprise as she looks upon what she initially mistakes as a damn hyena as it shares the rusty red-brown color, stripes and even a shallow mohawk of longer fur going down its back. Though its pitbull-esk face and body structure clues her in that it is indeed a dog.
The thickly muscled domestic canine assertively pats its clawed paws across the floor towards them, passing up the handler it stopped and politely sat ten feet away.
Bending down, Zrreak sets down his corgi which without hesitation stamps quickly over to the comparatively titanous brethren. Sniffing up and around his new friend the loaf of a dog ran a circle around the other unbothered canine before splaying forward in a ‘play’ pose in front of it. Before then running off as if to invite a chase.
“Her name is Zrume, meaning ‘Wall of fangs and talons’. She is only two years of age, but understands commands in Galactic standard and is perfectly trained to guard her charge with her life.” Zrreak introduced before notifying the uncertain fright in the Princess, “She is also trained to assist as an emotional support companion. She can provide more Service-oriented work, but that hasn’t been a primary focus of her training. I thought that may suit someone of your nature, Princess.” he added before addressing the dog directly. “Zrume, at ease.”
The dog’s ice-blue eyes spark with hyper excitement as she breaks her statue pose to spaz out before engaging in play with the corgi, sniffing him in return greeting after easily catching up.
“She isn’t the best I can offer, but I believe she’d be perfect for you. May she approach to meet you?” the ambassador inquires.
“Uhm…” Chak utters before looking up to Simone for an opinion.
Biting her cheek, the redhead gave a tentative nod back.
“Oh, alright.” the princess agrees.
“Zrume, come.” Zrreak instructs.
Turning away and all but ignoring the corgi again, Zrume approaches much closer to the three. Her circular blue eyes look up at the ambassador loyally, only taking side glances of the two women.
“Transfer.” the Z’ah’tuck commands as he points to Chak first and then to Simone.
The head of the dog looked up at Chak, its head pretty much as large as hers.
“D-do I pet her?” Chak inquires.
“Of course, though I strongly recommend that you limit her social interaction to a minimum when she’s on the job. When she’s off, tell her ‘at ease’ so she knows.” Zrreak answers with an amused but serious tone.
“O-okay… Hello… Zrume… uhm… at ease? At ease.” Chak says directly to the animal.
Zrume sinks her head slightly forward to gently press against between the Cali’s lower arms. Looking up with her crisp blues she starts to wag her tail and lightly stamps her front paws.
Chak’s racing hearts start to relax as a familiar admiration feeling rises up within her. Glancing up at Simone, she caught her inwardly biting her lips to resist the broad smile from breaking out.
Looking back at the dog, Chak lifts all of her limbs and begins scritching at the places that she saw these animals enjoy in the media. Behind the ears, under the chin and the sides of the thick neck.
Zrume closes her eyes as her tail aggressively pats against the floor like a happy baton. And Chak swears the dog’s closed mouth smiled, though that could have been a trick to the angle she is viewing her.
“What do you think?” the ambassador asks, seeming to already know the answer.
“She’s so sweet…” Chak replies in giggle, “I don’t think I can say no…”
“Then in that case, I’ll have her supplies loaded up for you.”

After a 1940 defined by gathering strengths and refinement across the feature, the early months of 1941 bring a few troubling portents behind-the-scenes for Fox's affectionately termed Grainy Gladiator. Nothing ruinous in itself, but signs of an upcoming radical shift away from what the character represented to start.
For one, the April issue of Adventure Comics (#61) brings with it a new cover feature, Ted Knight AKA Starman, courtesy writer-artist Jack Burnley. Already the second lengthiest entry in the book at nine pages, Starman quickly managed what neither Sandman nor Hourman could during their respective years as star attractions and upgraded to a full thirteen pages by his third appearance in #63. For context, Sandman only went from six pages to ten with its upgrade, while Hourman has remained rockstaedy at eight pages, and neither took down another non-superhero supporting feature to justify the page increase like Starman did Barry O'Neil and Mark Lansing. Moreover, from Starman's second appearance on, he is only drawn by Burnley; writing duties now belong to the Sandman's own Gardner Fox.
Which loops in with two other issues at play over Wesley's tossing, turning figure. Starting with issue #61, available online sources no longer fully agree who wrote what for the Sandman feature. You must understand, outside superstar figures with major pull like the creators of Superman or Batman, very few creative teams are properly credited in these Golden Age comics - my credits the last few posts have all been crossreferenced across numerous wikis and databases who owe their credits to investigative work by fans like Jerry Bails back in the 1960s. Such work was sadly not exhaustive, and while a few places (like DC Continuity Project and Wikipedia) state or else imply Fox stayed on as writer for the next few issues, from June to November there is no consensus as to who penned the stories.
I shouldn't be surprised if Fox's involvement terminated with the March issue, for April also saw All-Star Comics shift its format slightly, with Fox writing all nine interior stories for the 64 page mag in addition to his duties on the longer Starman feature. Man would have to work double time to keep pace, even if Sandman didn't drop to eight pages with #62 in May. Either way, Fox is certainly gone following #64 in July, as that issue features the final story drawn by regular artist and co-creator Creig Flessel, who departs to work on Shining Knight later in the year. As I say, things are changing fast for Sandman, and not all changes seem necessarily for the better. Best, however, to take the stories on their own level before drawing any final conclusions!
^{Coverage note: This entry goes to July rather than June for the sake of my sanity. If I stopped midway through the year, I'd only need cover seven features here, but the back half of '41 would require coverage of eleven. A nine-nine split feels much more feasible.}

• ADVENTURE COMICS #58 (January)

Orchids of Doom - Gardner Fox, Creig Flessel, Chad Grothkopf

Once again, a socialite friend to Wes and Dian is at the center of a minor mystery with big implications - namely, how can Pedro Nogades, father to Carla, rightly claim he breeds otherwise purely wild orchids in captivity? Investigating as the Sandman, Wes and Dian find a dead man in the Nogades greenhouse with his head stripped to the bone, and in following another fellow who sniffed an orchid before promising a shipment of such to some ruffians on the bad side of town, see his own face dissolve to bare skull. A visit to the police chemist reveals the orchids on the dead men's persons were laced to release a deadly flesh-eating gas on exposure to natural air, which is enough probably cause for Wesley to enlist Carla's boyfriend Bill in staging a raid on the Nogades manor. Some close shaves and fisticuffs end with the group discovering a diorama of the local coast, laid out to assist enemy agents in an invasion. Pedro is put away and the orchids revealed as concealing microfilm copies of the coastal plans, but how do we square the mystery that started it all? Simple: Nogades was no botanist, and called the flower by the wrong name when concocting his cover story!
An alright yarn to kick of the calendar year. As per usual when Fox tries for a somewhat complicated mystery, he's no adequate means of tying off loose ends other than large blocks of text, but it's lively and keeps the situation evolving with decent justifications for mid-story action and dragging Bill along for further fisticuffs. Hooking the entire mystery on, "Oh, the bad guy misspoke," is a tad lame, if understandable in the context of Fox's passion for slipping general knowledge flexes into his stories. Flessel and Grothkopf get some good mileage out've the skull imagery that crops up whenever the flower kills, and I rather like the brief bout of fisticuffs towards the end. The minor social awkwardness when Bill gets in the car with Wes and Dian is pretty good too, and I'm sorry to report I can't add this story to the "Wesley getting shot" count, as the bad guy only plugs his hat. Kinda funny having a Golden Age Sandman story involving orchids given Neil's own pre-Sandman work with Black Orchid, innit?

• ADVENTURE COMICS #59 (February)

The Story of the Flaming Ruby - Fox, Flessel, Grothkopf

There exists a ruby of blazing red, which has driven men to rage and madness wherever it appears, and today it sits in the hand of a young man in the local jeweler's shop, who flashes it cross Dian's vision. Later in the evening, she wakes in a trance consumed with the urge to kill her father, stopped only by Sandman as he rushes in from investigating a similarly queer case. A bank teller friend from his private life has found himself driven to steal from the vault and deliver it to some crooks on a lonely road every night, all after one of those men flashed him the ruby. Wes and Dian are unable to stop this night's transaction (on account of the ruby briefly turning Dian against Sandman), but seeing the gem in action gives Wes an idea on how to counteract its effects, and go into battle during the next drop armed with blue cobalt glasses. A brawl puts down all the blackmailers except one, but Wes opts instead to go after the head of the operation, knocking him out and lurking in the dark to catch the last as he reports in, revealing the bank teller! Turns out the ruby DOES have hypnotic properties and was used to assist their robberies, but the teller - hoping by playing at the victim to lure Sandman into his cohorts' midst and rub him out - spoke as if he remembered the whole experience, where Dian forgot herself on every exposure. Oops!
Same basic mystery structure and resolution type here as last month, complete with overly-wordy explanation, although I find the hook of pitting Dian and Wesley against one another gives it a minor leg up, as does the relatively straightforward nature of the criminal operation compared to planting microfilm in deadly flowers. There's a more even balance between the rush in bust 'em up style of crime-fighting the feature has developed and the stealthy skullduggery I think suits the character best, with nice action art to match each. Dian has some silly faces whenever she wakes from her hypnosis, and the four panel sequence of Wes halting her murder attempt works pretty well. This is, unfortunately, the final pencil-inking collaboration between Flessel and Grothkopf, and much as I've kvetched over the second man's solo work, I'm sorry to see the back of him in this capacity. When the two were in proper tune, they were the best artistic team Sandman enjoyed yet.
(Stop dodging bullets, I want to see you gunshot.)

• ADVENTURE COMICS #60 (March)

Mystery at Malay Mac's - Fox, Grothkopf

^{Hey, a rare post-Hourman, pre-redesign cover appearance! That's always nice. "Hello, officer? Yeah, coupla chucklefucks right here, the alley off Fourth, can't miss 'em."}
What's this? Dian breaking into a notorious criminal slumlord's safe in the bad part of town? A safe, as Wes discovers after he scares the lady off, filled to the brim with poison gas! Evidently not, as Dian is sound asleep when Wes arrives at Belmont manor to investigate, and a subsequent visit to Mister Mac reveals the only person who'd know the safe was booby-trapped is a local kidnapping organizer. Some blind, flailing fists turns up the girl, Dian's perfect duplicate, snatched from out of state to replace Dian and gain leverage over the cops. Too bad the kidnapper's made of strong stuff, knocking out Sandman and taking both woman for a ride to get back at Mac. Fortunately, Dian leaves Wes a trail of jewelry out the window, enabling him to follow and take down all the crooks with one throw of his gas pistol, revealing in the process 'twas Mac himself who tipped Dian's duplicate to his safe, in hopes of spoiling his rival's big plot.
Art-wise, this is probably Grothkopf's best work for Sandman to date. His tendency to exaggerate is translated into some properly goonish faces for the villains and really, really strong action poses, with some properly atmospheric shots sprinkled in for good measure. He cannot draw the gasmask for piss, but there's such an improvement I almost thought this was a Flessel joint before checking the wiki credits. Makes me wish we could see what he'd do if he kept on as a solo artist - free from the impulse to treat the feature as a cartoon, he produces damn fine work. As a story, this makes good time to mention my misgivings with Wesley's tendency to burst through windows and start swinging long before he thinks to use his sleeping gas. While it's great fun to describe and hype up as the mark of a madman who's even cooler as the badass normal than Batman, it also encourages a faster degradation in the character's identity. I'm sure you'll notice it's been yonks since lurking in the shadows and thinning the ranks by knocking them out in advance has factored into the stories. That Wes handles the bad guy by literally clonking him over the head with the gas gun rather than pulling the trigger speaks to the influence other, punchier superhero features have exerted over the strip.

• ADVENTURE COMICS #61 (April)

The Menace of the Metal Gun - Fox?, Flessel

From aboard a mysterious aircraft, a madman fires upon the city with a metal-melting ray that dissolves the skyscrapers into slag! Alerted to Doctor Borloff's activities, Wesley meets with swift defeat when the rogue scientist melts his gas gun and escapes in his cylindercraft to terrorize afresh. There IS a bright side, as seeing the ray firsthand gives Wesley some idea how to counteract its effects, and he sends Dian and her father warning for the local airforce to coat their planes in sand as a silicate buffer against the ray. Alas, only one officer heeds his message, leaving Sandman alone to get aboard the machine via his new wirepoon gun and defeat Borloff from within. For his brawling process, a good midflight fight is nothing if the hero gets tossed out an open door, but fortunately he can grapple onto the lone surviving plane, recover his bearings, zip back up, and put a stop to Borloff's dreams of world conquest once and for all!
Action is the name of the game here, and even without Grothkopf's inking enhancements, I think Flessel does a fine job on his own. I'm wary of the wirepoon in the future, as by year's end it will completely replace the gas gun as Sandman's sidearm of choice in further drift from the original Christman concept, but taken as a neutral in its debut, giving Sandman greater aerial mobility does lead to some cool shots and enhance the sense Wes goes stark bananas in the mask by pulling some stunts that would almost certainly pull his arms from their sockets in real life. There are, however, some particularly stiff action shots, and in one panel Flessel cocks up the design on the mask worse than Grothkopf last ish. Based on the opening vignette, Borloff decimated millions of innocent lives in addition to all the planes he melted out of the sky, making him easily the deadliest foe Wes has faced to date, and in turn making the "We did it, gang, everything is bright and peachy again!" ending sorta offputting. They'll have to organize mass funerals tomorrow, Wes. Show a little respect.

• ALL-STAR COMICS #4 (April)

For America and Democracy: The Grey Shirts - Fox, Grothkopf

In the top-level story, the JSA learn of their mission for the FBI: a group of Nazi insurgents known as the Grey Shirts are plotting subversive and destructive activities all across America, and are now posed to badly destabilize the nation in a series of disruptive attacks. Each is assigned a mission at critical points cross the nation, though given the widely-ranging disparity in their powers, their usefulness to the cause varies equally wildly. The Atom humiliates some goons spreading Nazi ideology at a single college, Hawkman barely prevents the destruction of an aviation plant in California, and Hourman's defense of an Oklahoma oil field ends with him toppling one of the oil towers to stop his quarry. Meanwhile, Green Lantern detonates a zeppelin secretly jamming radio transmissions nationwide, the Spectre casually annihilates some otherworldly vampiric globes sympathetic to Hitler's cause, and Doctor Fate uses his magic to out every single spy on the eastern seaboard. Uneven efforts or not, the group converge on the Grey Shirts' ringleader, and with a little help from Johnny Thunder, turn him over to good ol' J. Edgar Hoover's custody. Alas, Wesley does not get the blood he's thirsting after.
(Also Doctor Fate alerts Wesley to the identity and location of the ringleader before his mission starts rather than letting him figure it out on his own like everyone else. Prick.)
For his six-page leg of the assignment, the Sandman is off to El Paso, Texas to assist a local newspaper under threat from the Grey Shirts for printing pro-democracy and anti-Hitler editorials. Of course, this being Wesley Dodds on the job, he gets this information by roughing his way into the newspaper offices, then acts on it by beating on the guard at the Grey Shirts' camp and pounding down a band of brainwashed young men to prove he's a better American than them. After sending the wannabe Nazis for a whirl by running their bomb shipment off the road, Wesley doubles back to completely break the recruits' spirits, daring them to prove their hard enough by shooting an unarmed man in Hitler's name, chiefly himself. When none can cut the mustard, he marches them back into town with collars strapped to his car, and inspires the lot to join the Army to a few shirtless bars of "God Bless America."
Cripes but jingoism produces some heady results, doesn't it? I'm not sure I can rightly condone the ridiculous levels of patriotism on display here, even against such classically anti-American enemies as Nazis, yet at the same time, look at this and tell me it isn't the hardest shit you'll see all week. Again, though I've my misgivings about Wes as a brawler no matter how entertaining the results prove, there's something endearing about him being so raring for a fight his first move is to altercate the receptionist at the place he's assigned to defend. On the whole, Grothkopf's final Sandman contribution also shows refinement from his earlier works, the broader, thicker elements of his linework now tempers on a somewhat more grounded approach. Certainly the Sandman himself keeps a consistent look better than he does in any other issue published thus far this year. I DO notice he reused Flessel's design for the District Attorney wholesale on the newspaper publisher. Since he's going and heading out on a job well done, let's not hold it against him, eh?

• ADVENTURE COMICS #62 (May)

The Purple Death Ray - Fox?, Flessel

At the nightly planetarium show, a member of the audience screams and falls down dead, stricken by a litany of strange symptoms with no obvious cause. Wesley, believing the man was killed by a death ray, examines the auditorium's projector, only to find no obvious alterations or fault. Undeterred, he purchases himself a seat next to the murdered man's for the next show, which is now occupied by another fellow who received a last-second courtesy invitation. Acting quickly, the Sandman reexamines the projector from the shadows and finds a replacement bulb screwed into the socket pointed directly at the man's chair. With assistance from his wirepoon, Sandman swings down and wrenches the man from his seat just as the show starts, the bulb bathing his seat in deadly radiation. On learning the man is a former judge and the deceased a former DA, it's not long before Wes ferrets out the killer; it's the cashier, a former scientist sent to jail for misappropriating university funds years ago, out for revenge and now stopped cold.
See, while I'm skeptical about the growing presence of science-fiction elements in the series, they make fine fodder when they play to Sandman's strengths. Lurking high above a crowd of people seeking the answer to some deadly mystery is exactly Wes' bag, and plus or minus some strange mask drawings, Flessel captures that thrill of closely examining a big deadly machine in secret before it fires. I'd submit the page where Sandman saves the judge from the beam as an easy contender for best of the year thus far, and the shot where [Wes pushes Dian away from the killer's bullet](blob:https://imgur.com/7247f414-8a57-489f-a9bd-d85bc9e19a6a) is another fine piece of work. My memories of this one before sitting down to reread and write were a lot chillier, probably because I wish the series remained in crime pulp rather than raygun pulp, but a good outcome is a good outcome. Seriously, though, why is the mask going so bobble-eyed of late?

• ADVENTURE COMICS #63 (June)

The Voodoo Sorcerer - ???, Flessel

As Dian and Wesley tiff over his interest in an exotic dancer they know through a mutual friend, the woman's tail-lashing dance is interrupted when she sees a great glowing triangle materialize before her eyes. With the shock straining her bad heart, the Sandman brings her to boyfriend's house, where he reveals the triangle is a voodoo witch doctor's means of accusing someone of murder - just as news comes over the wire that the man the woman lashed with her costume tail has died! Smelling a rat, Wes rushes to the scene of the crime to find the taile barbed with poison quills, only for the titular sorcerer to bumrush him out the window. It's a big misunderstanding, thankfully: he's as shocked by the murder as Sandman, and only summoned the triangle on suggestion from an acquaintance, forgetting the dancer would know its significance through her partner. By happiest coincidence, this provides Wesley the solution to the mystery right quick, for only his friend's chauffeur would have motive, opportunity, and knowledge to frame his employers and their associates for the murder of a stock broker who owed them money.
Hmm, ah, see, on the one hand, it IS nice that the voodoo guy is innocent of everything except a lapse in judgement and the real twist is an unassuming little man exploiting the mystery and fears around his craft to cast suspicion off his person. On the other hand, eek, yike, zoinks! None good. Bad, even. Outside unfortunate depictions of non-white persons from the 1940s, the story's pretty weak for a murder mystery, as numerous elements are evidently known to the characters well in advance, yet only made clear to the reader right before they become relevant, like the exact identity of the murdered man. It's only eight pages, so there's little opportunity to piece information together on your own time, and as such it is heavily reliant on narrative cheats to generate cheap surprise. About the best thing here is the big page-dominating panel of Wesley swinging through the city on his wirepoon, unconscious woman tucked under arm. Kinda hard to convincingly raise my dander about what it means for the character and his feature when it's successfully operating on the long-standing principle of "masked mystery men swinging on a wire through skyscrapers looks really cool." S'like a solid fifth of the formula behind why Spider-Man is so enduringly popular.
(Also not a big fan of how Wes dismisses Dian from participating in the case without any adequate reason why. She calls him out over it, even, and nothing in the story justifies his decision to fly solo on this one.)

• ADVENTURE COMICS #64 (July)

The Unseen Man - ???, Flessel

Dian's purchase of paints from a local hobby shop includes quite the unusual accidental item: a paint that turns anything and everything invisible on contact. Determined to solve this mystery on her own, Dian investigates the shop with the dealer's cooperation, only for the dread Unseen Man to get the drop on her. Fortunately, Sandman is there to save her because he won't let Dian do anything on her own; unfortunately, Dian doesn't know Wes can see her attacker through his blue cobalt lenses and pulls him away, thinking him mad and letting the Unseen Man go free. As reward for her screw up, she's targeted in her home the next night, only for Wes to barge in again, having anticipated the only possible secret identity for the crook would make him likely to strike back at Dian. It is, unsurprisingly, the hobby shop owner, who Wes turns over to the police before heading out to patent his invisibility paint with the United States Army.
Alright, it's definitely not Gardner Fox writing anymore, because I cannot imagine Fox treating Dian so poorly. I gave her some dignity in summary, but this story is plain dumping all over her as a fussy, incompetent tryhard who fails at investigating on her own on account her womanly ways. Just look at the sheer antagonism between her and Wes; you two are partners, she's saved Sandman's skin like a dozen times, worn his costume and wielded his gas gun to do it once, even! Don't try to BS me into thinking Wes would run this paternalist "let me handle it, Dian, I wear the pants in this relationship" crap on her. You're only alive because she's worn your fucking pants. Otherwise, 'nother instance where the story and art alike don't give me much of note. I reckon Flessel was about done with the series with Fox gone and sorta phoned in his last few assignments. They're nowhere near the standard of his early solo artistic duties on the title. There IS another good wirepoon swinging shot, if one counterbalanced by a crummier instance with yet another weirdly-proportioned mask.

• ALL-STAR COMICS #5

The Mysterious Mr. X: The Kidnapper's Union - Fox, Cliff Young

The Justice Society are bored. Bored, bored, bored. Why are they bored? There is no crime. Not a single ruffian or scoundrel or roughneck lawbreaker anywhere in the city! Where did crime go? Crime has taken an enforced vacation, courtesy the plans of big crime boss Mister X (hats off), as prelude to his big plans for taking out the JSA and putting all his criminal enterprises back on easy street. It's quite the collection of rackets out against the superheroes - an arsonist ring for Flash, a jewel snatching gang for Hawkman, leader of the phony fortune teller underworld against Doctor Fate, even hard-pressing gym membership shakedowns for the Atom! Naturally our heroes triumph, though every one also encounters a strange little man idly strolling through their battlegrounds. He's so omnipresent despite his mousiness, he's even there when they convene at the police station to organize Mister X's (hats off) arrest. Except this unassuming slip of a man? He IS Mister X (hats off), and with the Justice Society having taken all the fun out've crime, he's turning himself in to live comfortably on the state's dollar in jail. WHOOPSY-DOODLE!
For his six-page part in the game, Sandman must contend against the kidnapper's union, who naturally enough have abducted Dian to get his attention. Not only have these lowlives taken Dian hostage (though she doesn't particularly mind), they've taken out phony accident insurance claims against themselves should the hero injure any of them en route to his untimely death! Nobody quite expects Wes to avoid the sniper-guarded roads to their remote hilltop hideout, though, and a quick wirepoon swing over the canyon (complete with Mister X - hats off - sighting) puts him right in the criminal den. From there, it's a simple biff wham boom to take down the punks and disarm their supporting fire. Alas, Sandman is once again only in the loop on the true nature of the threat against the JSA because someone notifies him from their own investigation, this time Flash via telegram. Let him do his own detective work, you pricks!
Right. You see these panels? You see Dian being calm and collected in the midst of a kidnapping operation? You see Wes trusting her with a submachine gun to keep watch on the fools who mean them harm? Yeah, THAT'S Fox writing Dian. Whoever's writing the Adventure feature at this time ought've taken notes. Artistically, Young makes a fine replacement for Grothkopf and Flessel in Adventure - he can match the first for goons, the second for action, manages a nice turnaround effect before Wes swings on his wirepoon, and even gives us a by-now all-too-rare heavy shadow shot on Wes and Dian. I'm a big fan of the lead kidnapper who calls the JSA the "Justiss Sassiety," and find this instance of Mister X (hats off) the second best in the book, behind only his appearance in the Hourman story, which I think speaks for itself. Probably the only time I'll express preference for something Hourman related over Sandman.
The loss of all three major contributors to the Sandman feature across early 1941 and the crunch down to eight pages has certainly made the Adventure Comics side of the Sandman line a rockier experience. It's still possible to derive enjoyment from the wonky mysteries and higher-concept criminals, but one must accept atmosphere and and particularity have been near-entirely sacrificed for generalized bombast and louder appeal. Don't misunderstand, I've become a fan of Wesley Dodds, Fist-Swinging Bullet Sponge, and my past praises for him aren't diminished by the realization of what this has done to his integrity as a character circa today's stopping point. The trouble is, while I enjoy this half-mad, impossibly reckless read on the character, it simply no longer bears any resemblance to the early days' lurking and creeping through the seedier parts of town. There's a great series of justifications running through the Sandman concept - he's no powers, so he uses the gas gun, so he needs the gas mask, which hides his identity so perfectly it frees him to wear the ordinary business suit, which highlights his vulnerability. Fling him around like a ragdoll who knows no fear of injury or death, although I'll clap for the bravado of it all, I must object if it means any notion he should be sneaky or cautious degrades.
Especially if it means the gas gun vanishes from the character. It hasn't met its final end just yet, but for this seven month block it's proven a very perfunctory aspect of the strip, hung by his side and occasionally brandished without acting as an integral part of the action or storytelling. The wirepoon has subsumed its function as the sidearm, and while I must stress there are plenty aces shots of Wes swinging that fully justify its prominence, taking precedence over the thing that makes him the Sandman, Crimefighter What Fights Crime By Putting The Criminals To Sleep plain rubs me the wrong way. Be awful nice i we could have both without the new toy putting the old out to pasture, y'know? It's not led to anything I'd full-throatedly object over just yet, but... ach, you'll see next time. Speaking of...
Next time! 1941 comes to a close as Wesley picks up another feature to his name, and also a stupid, ugly new costume!
(Previous write-ups: 1939, 1940 pt 1, 1940 pt 2)

For some context...
We met in person a few months ago while she was on vacation. We only had a month together before she had to leave out of state.
During that month, everything felt amazing. We're clearly compatible with similar goals, good communication, genuine love and joy. I wanted to just be friends with the promise that I would come see her in a few months to see what else we could be. But she was talking about commitment and how she felt she didn't want to meet anyone else and knew I was who she wanted to be with. I felt hesitant at first but after a month of us still talking really well even after she left, I decided to try a long distance relationship.
I'm in a position to work anywhere, and the state she lives has always interested me, so I'll be moving to her to make it work.
When we talk on the phone she's very affectionate and talks a lot about our future together. In texting she can be affectionate too but lately she's been more distant with texting. She used to send me long good morning messages but now it's a couple of words mid day or something.
I am very attentive. I don't like to wait to respond to a text "just because". When I am able to send a good response I do, whether it's a few hours or a few minutes. She generally takes a few hours to all day, though sometimes it's right away. She's a lot busier than I, internship+grad school so I'm cool with it. But it's a detail
A few nights ago we had a scheduled phone call, our "date".
She didn't tell me it was her brothers birthday when we scheduled it but she told me when we got on the phone together. I asked if she needed to be with her family and she said "not yet" so we talked and had a good time.
Then she told me they were going to sing/celebrate and she would call me back at [exact time] which was in an hour
An hour and 15 minutes passed, I texted and asked if she needed more time. Another 15 minutes passed and she sent me "baby" and nothing else. I asked if she was ok. Another 30 minutes later she called me and acted like nothing happened.
I'm glad she was having a good time with her brother / his friends. But I was irritated that she didn't tell me anything and left me hanging for an hour. It would have been easy to set aside 10 seconds to text me and say she's ok but just late. I told her this, she apologized. She said her was phone was charging so she didn't realize the time. That's fair. But she did see she was already 30 minutes late when she texted me "baby". I pointed that out and then she changed the story. She said she was going to tell me in that moment that she was going to be late but got distracted by people there and didn't finish the message. I accepted her apology, moved on, had a good rest of the phone call. We even talked hypothetically about what a marriage would be like in the distant future.
Now I'm wondering... Maybe it's not a big deal, but I genuinely don't understand. I would never leave her hanging like that. When I'm even 5 minutes late to our phone calls, I tell her well in advance. If I noticed I was 30 minutes late, I wouldn't let anything else distract me until I communicated that. I wouldn't have been 30 minutes late in the first place. If I ended being an hour late, I would be apologizing and acknowledging it without her needing to show any sort of irritation. (She wasn't apologetic or anything until I said I was irritated)
It's also weird that she changed from "not seeing what time it was" to "I noticed I was late but got distracted before finishing the message"
All of it felt disrespectful to be honest
Is this just a difference in personality? Or is this a sign that she's not that invested in me?

Hello there! I haven’t flirted with anyone for such a long time that I thought this could be fun. I never quite know how to introduce myself but I am a 21 yo male from Brazil, a country in South America. I am going to university for a social sciences degree, and while this is not an application, it feels like one so yes my GPA is pretty high. Besides that, I write poetry on the side, and I work for a small online newspaper.
I am fascinated fairly often by many things so you won’t be bored. These days I was reading about Liberian history before the 1980 coup d’etat and last month I became fascinated by modern Spanish history after reading Preston’s biography of Francisco Franco. In general, I really enjoy all the humanities. I follow politics keenly, and I’d say I am on the centre-left – pro-abortion, in favour of a robust welfare state, LGBTQ+ rights, affirmative action. If you know about Brazilian politics, I voted for Marina and Haddad in 2018 (the voting age here is 16), and Lula last year.
As you can imagine, I also really enjoy reading and writing. Besides poetry, I often write little chronicles, and I have dreamt about writing a novel, but that definitely sounds like too much work right now. As for my favourite novels, they definitely would be Auto-da-Fé by Elias Canetti and War and Peace by Tolstoy. I also really enjoy TV shows and cinema, in general, and I am easily brought to tears in the movies. Yes, I cried during the last Minions movie – and I didn’t even go there willingly. And I really love music. My taste in music has been described as “fairly gay” by a few friends. Since last year, I have been especially fascinated by Rosalía, but I love tango, classical music, hip hop, pop, and indie. I'd have loved to be a musician, but ah, social scientist and amateur poet is good enough.
I'd say I am pretty introverted, polite, and timid. I am affectionate and I can be very passionate as well. I’m fairly funny – or at least, a few people laugh, that is. As for what I want to do with my life, I am unsure though I am inclined to go into academia. I have been considering applying to a PhD program in the U.S. after finishing my undergrad here in Brazil. My family does want me to go into their business, which is related to politics.
What am I looking for? I’d like someone curious about the world around her. And I’d like someone who would be willing to watch Seinfeld with me at times. Someone to love, someone to care, and someone to write about.

Heya! As the title states I am genuinely looking for someone that I can either text/voice call(discord/zoom) or even game with 23+ preferred age, we can exchange selfies selfie once we both engage in a proper conversation.
If you are in dubai, we can set up meets.
If not we can resort to voice calls and think some wayway to meet :p
My hobbies are :
-Gaming(PC) Modern warefare 2022 and warzone 2, forza horizon 5, need for speed unbound, Minecraft, sea of thieves, fornite, v rising, rainbow six(seige and extraction) and car x drifting. (Well, I got more 😅)
-Anime: I got a huge list but I can recommend some that I did find very intriguing.
-Tv Shows: Recently gotten into them so my list is quiet small unlike my anime list open to suggestions.
-Voice impersonations: will have to wait for the voice call :3
-I do enjoy designing cars on car games but not to the extreme 😅😅
-Being a panda :x
I I hope you reading this might get you interested in having daily conversations and calls leading into something genuine. Anywho hope you all have a good day :33!

Heya! As the title states I am genuinely looking for someone that I can either text/voice call(discord/zoom) or even game with 23+ preferred age, we can exchange selfies selfie once we both engage in a proper conversation.
If you are in dubai, we can set up meets.
If not we can resort to voice calls and think some wayway to meet :p
My hobbies are :
-Gaming(PC) Modern warefare 2022 and warzone 2, forza horizon 5, need for speed unbound, Minecraft, sea of thieves, fornite, v rising, rainbow six(seige and extraction) and car x drifting. (Well, I got more 😅)
-Anime: I got a huge list but I can recommend some that I did find very intriguing.
-Tv Shows: Recently gotten into them so my list is quiet small unlike my anime list open to suggestions.
-Voice impersonations: will have to wait for the voice call :3
-I do enjoy designing cars on car games but not to the extreme 😅😅
-Being a panda :x
I I hope you reading this might get you interested in having daily conversations and calls leading into something genuine. Anywho hope you all have a good day :33!

*Mercy Petition
On Mercy Pettition
On Mercy petition 2
On mercy petition 3
*Savarkar after 1937 (was released from prison in 1924, but was not fully released from house arrest until 1937)
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*On Pension
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*Other Revolutionaries on Savarkar
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*Savarkar, Two nation Theory, Muslim League and Partition
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Savarkar's warning abput Pakistan was called "Scare mongering" by bombay chronicle in 1942
Savarkar was not the founder of two nation Theory. It was Sir syed ahmed khan. In his book on the revolt of 1857( Written in 1858) he referred to Hindus and Muslims as ‘two antagonistic races’ when highlighting the British folly of bringing them together in a single unit, thereby endangering the British position. In one of his letter to Braduddin tyabbji he wrote, "I do not understand what the words ‘National Congress’ mean. Is it supposed that the different castes and creeds living in India belong to one nation, or can become a nation, and their aims and aspirations be one and the same? I think it is quite impossible, and when it is impossible there can be no such thing as a National Congress, nor can it be of equal benefit to all peoples. You regard the doings of the misnamed National Congress beneficial to India, but I am sorry to say that I regard them as not only injurious to our own community but also to India at large. I object to every Congress in any shape or form whatever which regards India as one nation". He was also a loyalists of British Raj in his speech in Meerut 1888 he said, " No Mahomedan can say that the English are not ‘People of the Book’. No Mahomedan can deny this: that God has said that no people of other religions can be friends of Mahomedans except the Christians. He who had read the Koran and believes it, he can know that our nation (read Muslim nation) cannot expect friendship and affection from any other people. At this time, our nation is in a bad state as regards education and wealth, but God has given us the light of religion, and the Koran is present for our guidance, which has ordained them and us to be friends. Now God has made them rulers over us. Therefore, we should cultivate friendship with them, and should adopt that method by which their rule may remain permanent and firm in India, and may not pass into the hands of the Bengalis (read Hindus). This is our true friendship with our Christian rulers, and we should not join those people who wish to see us thrown into a ditch. If we join the political movement of the Bengalis, our nation will reap loss, for we do not want to become subjects of the Hindus instead of the subjects of the ‘People of the Book.’ And as far as we can we should remain faithful to the English Government." If you want to learn more about aligarh movement you can refer to MS Jain's book on Aligarh movement. This movement not only propagated muslim sepratism but also resulted in Formation of Muslim league. Infact it was Aligarh movement which put forward the idea of separate electorates for Muslims which was later achieved by Muslim League.
There was one person who talked about Two nation theory even before Sir syed Ahmed khan. He was Karl Marx. In his book, The eastern Question (written in 1856) page no. 316 he wrote, "The Koran and the Mussulman legislation emanating from it reduce the geography and ethnography of the various people to the simple and convenient distinction of two nations and of two countries; those of the Faithful and of the Infidels. The Infidel is “harby,” i.e. the enemy. Islamism proscribes the nation of the Infidels, constituting a state of permanent hostility between the Mussulman and the unbeliever"
Sadly Marxist Historians from Aligarh University dont know the history of their baap-dada and blame Savarkar for two nation theory.
Also it would be factually wrong to say that Marx Or Sir syed ahmed khan was the first one to give two nation theory. Even according to some pakistani historians Ahmad Sirhindi (1564-1624) was the founder of Two nation theory. In one of his letter he wrote " Islam and infidelity (kufr) contradict one another. To establish the one means eradicating the other, the coming together of these contradictories being impossible. Therefore, Allah has commanded his Prophet to wage war (jihãd) against the infidels, and be harsh with them. The glory is Islam consists in the humiliation and degradation of infidels and infidelity. He who honours the infidels, insults Islam. Honouring (the infidels) does not mean that they are accorded dignity, and made to sit in high places. It means allowing them to be in our company, to sit with them, and talk to them. They should be kept away like dogs. If there is some worldly purpose or work which depends upon them, and cannot be served without their help, they may be contacted while keeping in mind all the time that they are not worthy of respect. The best course according to Islam is that they should not be contacted even for worldly purposes. Allah has proclaimed in his Holy Word (Quran) that they are his and his Prophets enemies. And mixing with these enemies of Allah and his Prophet or showing affection for them, is one of the greatest crimes"
• Sources are mentioned in every Thread and Article

So...this might be a bit all over the place, I can't order my thoughts so well. Also might be long. Sorry! There's also so much I can't decide what to tell you and what to leave out.
I have been in a relationship with my husband for 15 years, married for 5. We have been in marriage counselling since December 2022, which was his idea. I have fibromyalgia and CFS, and I was fired from my 'normal' 9-5 job in 2018, because my body couldn't deal with it anymore. After it ended, out of necessity, I started my own business from home. I've been building it slowly since then, and while I don't take money out of it to live off, I'm at a stage where it keeps itself running plus a little cushion. I work at home and significant amount of my time is spent pushing it to grow, so I can get back to having a decent income. I have recently been given a small disability benefit so I now have a little income from that. My dad died in 2009, and my inheritance paid for the house deposit and a decent chunk of renovation, plus I paid my half of everything for 4 years before I lost my job. Husband has been solely paying bills for the last 4.
My husband has been desperate for children for a couple of years, but I'm terrified I can't look after them, especially since there are days I can't even get myself in the shower. He told me children is the only reason he got married, it wasn't important to him, which I hadn't appreciated before. He's a reasonably high earner, but with him paying for bills and everything I thought it was sensible to try and get my business in a position where I could pay someone to help me at home with children. He doesn't agree. He also keeps sitting down with me and telling me to get a job. He said most people wouldn't have supported me past a year of having no proper income. He says he hates my business and feels it's robbed him of children. He won't accept that it's very difficult to get a job with a chronic illness when you've been fired for that illness and you still have it, and he says there must be lots of jobs from home. I've been looking for an age but I can't find anything I'm qualified for, that would allow me days out with no notice when I have bad days, or that pays well enough for me to give up my business that I'm really proud of. I asked him to sit down with me and go through what work I can find, but he refused.
The therapist told us to fact check his fears and budget what we currently have. According to my calculations with what I know our joint bills and his personal ones to be, plus what I know of his income, I think he should have a decent chunk spare per month. He says he has no money, yet parcels continue to arrive for him, and he keeps paying for golf lessons and his PT. He won't allow me access to his bank account to go through it with him though. He's actually refused to do most of what the marriage counsellor has recommended and by his own admission hasn't been trying. He's gotten himself am individual therapist recently though so maybe that's the start of it?
I struggle with intimacy sometimes, as a result of being in pain a lot of the time, and some meds I'm on make me not all that interested. We had a dry spell just before we started counselling. I am a physical touch love language person though, I need touches and hugs. He's been refusing to touch me, even avoiding brushing past me in a hallways, since we started counselling. He says he thinks any touching will give me hope that this can be fixed and he doesn't want to do that. He's said that the dry spell because of my health struggles is exactly equivalent to him choosing not to touch me at all, and how dare I tell him I have issues with him withdrawing physical affection as a result. As an honest aside - through all of our relationship, he hasn't listened to most of what I've told him I like, regarding intimacy and sex. He hasn't done what I've asked of him. As a result, sex is a bit about endurance for me. We've even had times where I've told him it hurts and the response has been it's OK because he's nearly done. It doesn't make it something I want to use my energy on, when I have it. There was once a rhythm method fail very close to a conversation about how I wasn't ready for children yet, it's the only one in 15 years and bothers me.
He has complained about hugging me for quite a few years now. For example; if he works nights, he'll sit and play xbox right up until the last minute and then if I ask for a hug before he leaves, he'll complain I'm making him late and he doesn't have time. He also tells me regularly that everything is always on my timescale though, and I'm not sure this is the case? If I ask for help emptying pans in the kitchen or putting the washing out, he'll tell me to give him a sec and then I wait there until he's finished with his TV show or gaming to help, however long that takes. He spends all the free time he has at home watching TV or gaming, most housework is my responsibility but I haven't the energy most of the time so it doesn't get done. Last time I asked him to hoover for me he asked me why angrily, although he did do some.
What do you call it when someone responds to you in a hard tone that's quite spiky? I don't like it and it makes my anxiety worse when he does it, but pretty much all conversations use it now. He mostly doesn't ask me how I am or what I've been doing or anything about my life - maybe 2 or 3 days a month he'll ask me how I am. He says he doesn't want to, he's not usually all that interested and honestly, that's how he treats most family and friends. Pretty much all our conversations are about things that he's doing or cares about. He's never told me he's proud of me or that I'm beautiful or he likes how I look, unless in response to me asking if I look OK. He tells me then I look nice or fine. I don't need compliments much but on our wedding day would have been nice.
I'm confused a lot of the time. What if I've made this all worse in my head and imagined bits of it without meaning to or knowing? I struggle to make basic decisions without asking him, because I worry about being criticised. The other day I had to ask what vegetables to add to dinner. It's like there are two different people in him and I feel like I'm walking on eggshells. I run through the pros and cons of everything I want to say before I say it, so I can try and work out if it'll get a spiky response or not. I don't always get it right.
Whenever I have raised something I don't like in our relationship he's 9 times out of 10 refused to address it and countered with the things he hates that I do. The worst one of those conversations I remember ended in me crying, and him telling me I should probably go and talk to the doctor about antidepressants - so I did.
The only thing I've really done is taken him to get our cat when I knew he didn't want one. I need animals in my life, I'm really sensitive (I think HSP) and they calm me, but his family are fairly ambivalent about pets. I've apologised a few times for how I went about it and he adores her now, but he still keeps bringing it up as one of the things I've done that upsets him and how he doesn't like cats. He'll always bring up old hurts, and I've asked him what he hopes to achieve from it but he can't answer me.
Finally, he's responsible for the 3 most painful things anyone has ever said to me. The worst was the day after my Nan's funeral. At her house, the last time I'd ever be there, I asked him if he was OK (she loved him and I thought he might be sad) and he said did I think we might nearly be done because he was bored. It was so painful I couldn't breathe.
Is this me misunderstanding our communication? How do you know if you're imagining things? What if there is never anyone else for me? What if I eventually leave and regret it? I can't work out what's going on and I'm so anxious about it. Apologies for the length, thank you if you made it this far.

*Mercy Petition
On Mercy Pettition
On Mercy petition 2
On mercy petition 3
*Savarkar after 1937 (was released from prison in 1924, but was not fully released from house arrest until 1937)
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*Other Revolutionaries on Savarkar
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*Savarkar, Two nation Theory, Muslim League and Partition
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Savarkar's warning abput Pakistan was called "Scare mongering" by bombay chronicle in 1942
Savarkar was not the founder of two nation Theory. It was Sir syed ahmed khan. In his book on the revolt of 1857( Written in 1858) he referred to Hindus and Muslims as ‘two antagonistic races’ when highlighting the British folly of bringing them together in a single unit, thereby endangering the British position. In one of his letter to Braduddin tyabbji he wrote, "I do not understand what the words ‘National Congress’ mean. Is it supposed that the different castes and creeds living in India belong to one nation, or can become a nation, and their aims and aspirations be one and the same? I think it is quite impossible, and when it is impossible there can be no such thing as a National Congress, nor can it be of equal benefit to all peoples. You regard the doings of the misnamed National Congress beneficial to India, but I am sorry to say that I regard them as not only injurious to our own community but also to India at large. I object to every Congress in any shape or form whatever which regards India as one nation". He was also a loyalists of British Raj in his speech in Meerut 1888 he said, " No Mahomedan can say that the English are not ‘People of the Book’. No Mahomedan can deny this: that God has said that no people of other religions can be friends of Mahomedans except the Christians. He who had read the Koran and believes it, he can know that our nation (read Muslim nation) cannot expect friendship and affection from any other people. At this time, our nation is in a bad state as regards education and wealth, but God has given us the light of religion, and the Koran is present for our guidance, which has ordained them and us to be friends. Now God has made them rulers over us. Therefore, we should cultivate friendship with them, and should adopt that method by which their rule may remain permanent and firm in India, and may not pass into the hands of the Bengalis (read Hindus). This is our true friendship with our Christian rulers, and we should not join those people who wish to see us thrown into a ditch. If we join the political movement of the Bengalis, our nation will reap loss, for we do not want to become subjects of the Hindus instead of the subjects of the ‘People of the Book.’ And as far as we can we should remain faithful to the English Government." If you want to learn more about aligarh movement you can refer to MS Jain's book on Aligarh movement. This movement not only propagated muslim sepratism but also resulted in Formation of Muslim league. Infact it was Aligarh movement which put forward the idea of separate electorates for Muslims which was later achieved by Muslim League.
There was one person who talked about Two nation theory even before Sir syed Ahmed khan. He was Karl Marx. In his book, The eastern Question (written in 1856) page no. 316 he wrote, "The Koran and the Mussulman legislation emanating from it reduce the geography and ethnography of the various people to the simple and convenient distinction of two nations and of two countries; those of the Faithful and of the Infidels. The Infidel is “harby,” i.e. the enemy. Islamism proscribes the nation of the Infidels, constituting a state of permanent hostility between the Mussulman and the unbeliever"
Sadly Marxist Historians from Aligarh University dont know the history of their baap-dada and blame Savarkar for two nation theory.
Also it would be factually wrong to say that Marx Or Sir syed ahmed khan was the first one to give two nation theory. Even according to some pakistani historians Ahmad Sirhindi (1564-1624) was the founder of Two nation theory. In one of his letter he Sirhindi wrote "Islam and infidelity (kufr) contradict one another. To establish the one means eradicating the other, the coming together of these contradictories being impossible. Therefore, Allah has commanded his Prophet to wage war (jihãd) against the infidels, and be harsh with them. The glory is Islam consists in the humiliation and degradation of infidels and infidelity. He who honours the infidels, insults Islam. Honouring (the infidels) does not mean that they are accorded dignity, and made to sit in high places. It means allowing them to be in our company, to sit with them, and talk to them. They should be kept away like dogs. If there is some worldly purpose or work which depends upon them, and cannot be served without their help, they may be contacted while keeping in mind all the time that they are not worthy of respect. The best course according to Islam is that they should not be contacted even for worldly purposes. Allah has proclaimed in his Holy Word (Quran) that they are his and his Prophets enemies. And mixing with these enemies of Allah and his Prophet or showing affection for them, is one of the greatest crimes"
• Sources are mentioned in every Thread and Article

State Farm said it will no longer accept new applications for home and business insurance in California because of an increase in catastrophic events and construction costs, the company announced Friday.
"State Farm General Insurance Company made this decision due to historic increases in construction costs outpacing inflation, rapidly growing catastrophe exposure, and a challenging reinsurance market," the insurance company said in a statement.
The new guideline took effect Saturday and includes all business and personal lines property and casualty insurance. It will not, however, impact State Farm's personal auto insurance policies, the company said.
State Farm's independent contractor agents will continue to serve current customers who already have property and casualty insurance with the company, meaning they can still make claims for property that is already covered by the company. The company has also not issued any non-renewals at this time.
In 2021, California experienced at least 7,396 wildfires, which burned nearly 2.6 million acres of land, according to the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection. In 2022, the state experienced 7,490 wildfires that burned 362,455 acres.
State Farm, which was the largest property and casualty insurer in California in 2021, brought in over $7 billion in premiums that year, but incurred losses of about $4 billion, state data showed.
According to the California Department of Insurance (CDI), insurance companies covering property may be required to cover living expenses such as emergency shelter and food, personal property and valuables, damage to the property and other buildings or structures on it, the removal of trees, shrubs and debris, and water damage not caused by a flood.
The company said it will continue to work with CDI and evaluate the market over time, indicating that this new policy could change depending on the economy.
State Farm is not the first insurance company to stop or limit property insurance coverage in California due to the increase in wildfires and state regulations. According to reporting by the Wall Street Journal last year, American International Group (AIG) notified thousands in California that their policies would not be renewed.
"It's necessary to take these actions now to improve the company's financial strength," the statement said. "We will continue to evaluate our approach based on changing market conditions."
CDI told CBS News in a statement Saturday that State Farm's decision is the result of uncontrollable factors, and does not affect the decisions of other insurance companies in the state.
"While insurance companies prioritize their short-term financial goals, the long-term goal of the Department of Insurance is protecting consumers," the statement said. "The factors driving State Farm's decision are beyond our control, including climate change, reinsurance costs affecting the entire insurance industry, and global inflation."
Last year, CDI enacted a new state policy which requires insurers to provide insurance discounts for homeowners and businesses that take actions to reduce fire danger around their structures.

-----At-A-Glance Updates-----

• Job search IS BACK, and! we ESD is now asking us to report Activity Details, starting this week (8/8) Added 7/9 ESD: Last Minute Change to Job Search Reporting: >>>Click "Yes", Not Requiring Details to be Reported<<<

Added 6/13 Return of the Job Search on July 11, FAQ
Added 6/15 ESD Clarification: 1 Job Search Activity on PUA, 3 for PEUC
Historical Clarification: Job search suspension is tied to the Washington State covid-19 emergency declaration, it has nothing to do with State Reopening Phases or Federal Benefit Extension guidelines. Recent post and reply on the subject.

• Possible Batch Processing Issue delaying some payments ~24-48hrs.

See this poll

-----

This is the Weekly Thread! Please post here.

• New Rule - Low Effort/Duplicate/Searching
• New Rule - Automoderator - Age/Karma Minimums
• State of the Sub 3/26
• State of the Sub 2/4
• State of the Sub 1/19
• The Archive
• The Roadmap to The Archive

------Foreword-----

It is important that users have a Post in which to comment and share their questions and experiences. It is also important to me as a moderator so that I can track the development, propagation or disappearance of issues related to Paid/Processing/Posting; which currently is very very was* difficult because of the volume and number of duplicates, and the lack of information provided by users who do not include their claim type and bank.
I urge you, when posting, to include your bank and your claim type.
I urge you, as much as you can, anticipate delays for weeks with holidays.
Request for separate threads will be entertained, if you can send me a direct message with a good reason that is backed by some sort of evidence.

---------

The most consistently accurate and applicable is in The Archive and The Roadmap

-----Weekly Claim Questions------

NEW 4/12: ESD's site for Weekly Claim Questions - Reporting Earnings
NEW 4/12: ESD's site for Weekly PUA claim Questions
NEW 4/12: ESD's site for Restarting your Claim
ESD's site for Waiting Week/ When Will Payments Start
NEW 4/12: What if I didn't Work this Week?

• Added 2/1/2023 ESD: Reporting Vacation PTO pay Reporting Vacation PTO while employed, see italic section, for Reporting Lump Sum PTO payouts (like during severance), see block text section

2 jobs? Paid Late? Reporting Complex Earnings
Added 7/5 What if I wasn't AA for 2 days or less last week? WBA gets prorated, no Add'l fact-finding
Use a Password Manager, otherwise you might Lock Your Account and have to contact Technical Support
Added 4/22 Traveling and Claiming: "Able and Available"? Cannot Mark Yes to AA
Added 7/7 Website won't work? Call in the Claim, or do it later - it will stay there for 5 weeks
Added 8/22 How to File a PUA Claim By Phone - From ESD Handbook & Our Community
Added 8/22 MFA Code Is Timing Out or Late? Switch to Google Authenticator App
Added 8/29 Severance pay: 3 Laws
Added 10/4/2022 Advice: 2 job offers, How to Accept One and Reject Another, Report on weekly claim

-----Processing/Paid/Posted-----

• After a Weekly claim is submitted, it first says “Processing-Web ^￦ ", then^¥ “Processing”, then “Paid”, and it takes 48 hours on average to post in an account, if the amount is significant, refer to this post. Related Post
• The average time between when the payment shows "Paid" and when it appears in a bank account is dependent on the bank.

Weekly claims that are filed by web are generally all processed sometime between Tuesday evening and Wednesday evening. So if you filed a a claim last Wednesday it will probably not be processed until the following Tuesday.
(￦) If you did your weekly claim via the web. Weekly Claim status is "Processing - IVR"? Normal: You filed by phone IVR means Interactive Voice Response
(¥) This happens when the submission moves from "Submitted" to "Processed", within Online Activity

• Weekly Claim says " Paid - 0"? It's normal temp status
• NEW 4/9: PUA Claims pending after being processed? Upload a Document says "Railroad/Existing Claim"? This is normal
• Are your weekly claims PENDING? Go here to find out Why

------Known Issues------

3. Appearance of "Waiting Week" on some pre-existing claims
_______(1/9) WA House Minority Leader (R) J.T. Wilcox did not approve the Extension of 20.21; the WA Governor's 10th successive proclamation which waived the waiting week, by sending the Governor a letter the day the extension lapsed Contact him directly at [[email protected]](mailto:[email protected]). So on Jan 7, ESD Policy Director Dan Zeitlin filed an Emergency Rule, which appears to have no end date. It is believed that due to no rule prohibiting a waiting week between Dec 28-Jan 7, that some pre-existing claims erroneously began to show this. See this post and comments.
Update (1/23) New FAQ from ESD ON Waiting Week

11. (New 1/19) Changing your address/phone numbebank account will likely stop payments, and require an Identity confirmation that may take 6-8 weeks. (Because of a continuation of an Audit) See above in Best Practices for changing eServices notices/letters from Mailed to Electronic. See this post

5. (NEW AS of 1-11) Disappearance of Weekly Claim Prompt Link. As suggested in this post and reply, it is solvable manually by calling the call center. . (New 1/25: Additional Info: Details of Resolution call) Another example (2/11) Another example 3/2

1. After Potential New Claim Filing on 6/12: Issue recurring

-----Roadmap Sections Expanded Above-----

Weekly Claim Subsection

• Job Search Requirements 10+ entries
• Processing/Paid/Posted Issues 5+ entries
• Weekly Claim Questions 5+ entries
• Earnings Deductions / Working Part Time 5+ entries
• Refusal to Work/ Suitable Work 5+ entries
• Able and Available 2 entries
• Known Issues 19+ entries

------Perspective--------

We are all on government benefits; this is not an employee employer relationship where we always get paid at the exact same time every week; they do not have the same responsibility to pay at a predetermined time and it's unreasonable to hold them to that standard. They will get around to paying us when they get around to paying us, unfortunately. Holding that expectation is a false hope, and being constantly disappointed is not a productive thing. .

The concept of LGBTQI+ should be an ideological issue that is a personal choice protected by the 1st Amendment to the Bill of Rights under the United States Bill of Rights of the United States Constitution Clause granting Americans the Freedom of Expression. The freedom to express sexual desires and preferences should be and is clearly allowed to American citizens. It is an important ideological standpoint and a freedom that most countries in the world do not have a right to enjoy sadly.
However, the main concern is, why can’t the sexual preferences of the LGBTQI+ community remain private without impacting vulnerable individuals such as the American youth. For example, I’m a straight heterosexual male and I do not discuss my sexual preferences and/or desires unless I’m engaged in a private and intimate conversation with my partner of the night. Similarly, I do not voice my personal sexual orientation for the whole neighborhood to hear not do I advertise it on television nor do I promote it through products and/or services associated with by businesses. That would be unjust because it would create a bias.
Similarly, Corporate America should stay out of this subject. There is no need to use millions of dollars in corporate advertising to unjustly bias our American youth who have had no chance to fully develop their mental capacity to make an unbiased choice regarding their sexuality. We do not need children’s LGBTQI+ swimsuits because sex is legally reserved for adults only and we also do not need transsexuals mass advertising alcohol to minors watching television because alcohol is also reserved for adults only.
In fact, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis along with the Florida legislation have been very proactive on this issue. Florida House Bill 1557, also known as the “Don’t Say Gay” Bill, states that parents have the right to sue the school district if their child is exposed to instruction on sexual orientation or gender identity deemed not “age-appropriate.”
There seems to be an intentional and hidden agenda by the elite to corrupt and brainwash our American youth prior to giving them a chance to develop their mental capacity to the point of making rational and independent decisions regarding their personal preferences in life. Not fair and very nefarious.
As always, please provide your insight, opinions, questions, and/or comments.
Articles:
https://floridaphoenix.com/2022/03/08/despite-nationwide-outcry-fl-senate-pushes-through-dont-say-gay-bill/
https://nypost.com/2023/05/25/target-loses-8b-in-week-since-boycott-calls-over-pride-collection/amp/
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-12120649/amp/Anheuser-Busch-lost-staggering-15-7-BILLION-value-Bud-Light-controversy-began.html

The black domes, they were pocket dimensions, which were completely detached from the material world. Bound to the stream of souls, flowing inside the ephemeral branches of the world tree, they presented a personal hell for each person cast into them. They are a limbo of regrets, the hell of one’s own making, places where the living meets the dead.
There’s only so many ways to elope them. One must either reconcile with the restless souls, or join them, succumbing to their rage and regret that they carried into their afterlife. After all, to even get there, one must possess unparalleled strength and resilience; and only those who had caused deaths and destruction on their path to greatness can even hope to get to this trial.
Freia, Flare, the First princess of Jioral. For some – a good friend, lover, and companion. For others – a nightmare embodied, a vessel of divine powers, a force to be reckoned with. She had many enemies: princes and princesses felled by her authority, treacherous servants and greedy nobles, the knights, who opposed her corruption, slavers and bandits, destroyed on her quest for redemption and restoration of herself… But there were more. Children she had burned, serving her kingdom, women who perished by the tides she conjured, men that had been torn apart by raging tornados of her making, elderly that were buried under the rubble she created…
And how did she oppose them?
“Flagella terram et vescere inimicis meis, o magnum tempestas ignis!” The sorceress chanted, spinning her staff above her head. Then, right before the raging mob reached her, she hid from them behind a vortex of fire. One move and this wave of heat would incinerate everything and everyone in this accursed realm. But…
“TRAITOR!”
“DON’T HIDE FROM US, FLA-A-A-ARE!”
“COME TO US, SISTER!”
“YOU WERE NEVER ONE OF US!”
“USURPER!”
“GIVE ME BACK MY MOM!””
“THE FALSE PRINCESS!”
“SUNNARI (die)!”
“THE DAUGHER OF A WHORE!”
“YOU SHOULD’VE ROT IN THE SLUMS!”
Curses and jealousy, bitterness and hatred. The chorus of tortured souls surrounding the fiery boundary couldn’t be silenced even by the roaring flame. There couldn’t be any redemption.
“I’m sorry for all of you, who unjustly died by my hand!..” And even though there were people deserving their apologies, those who had to perish in favor of Flare’s political ambitions, those she sacrificed to appease her tyrannical father…
“THEN JOIN US, FLARE!”
“PAPA! WHERE ARE YOU?! GIVE HIM BACK!”
“REPENT, BITCH! DISPELL YOUR WITCHCRAFT!!!”
“But I won’t give in to you!” The pink-haired woman exclaimed, absorbing mana into her staff. “Furthermore, there’re those of you I will never regret killing! And there are those, for whom I must live! I MUST GET OUT OF THIS PLACE!!!” Then, she slammed the lower tip of her weapon into the floor made of the absolute darkness. Instead of wailing, being consumed by fear, guilt, self-loathing, and, ultimately, perishing, Freia sundered this entire “world”. One magical strike from her, and cracks of white and gold covered the entire dome. The wall of fire faded, but when the vengeful spirits rushed forward to maul their prey, they crumbled into piles of black salt. “I’m so… so sorry!” The girl lamented, kneeling near the remains of children, whose future she stole. “But I… I must move forward. I must save…”
…
Sparks and crackling, whistle and dazzling – time and time again the surge of lightning breached through the veil of darkness.
“UO-O-O-O-O-O!!!” A guttural scream filled the oppressive silence under the dome. Eve Reese, so childish and bashful, so eager to prove herself, now wore a stone mask of indifference. “Nira-a-a (no-o-o)!!! Yuarmta (I won’t forgive you)!!!” Cornar yelled, held still by at least seven shadows, he had been tortured, killed, bruised, smitten by the raging element of lightning. No longer did the girl see him as a threat; no longer did she cower at the feet of her former husband. Maybe, Eve was condemned to getting back her memories as a means of punishment, something that would make her sympathize with this petty little tyrant…
“Yuarm yau (I don’t need your forgiveness).” The Me-ua kahul spoke, looking at her crackling right arm, trembling with power and guilt combined. Not for forsaking her would-be-spouse, not for becoming Panakea’s pawn…
These souls, these loyal shadows – turned out, she never called upon them… until the very end. Her subjects, her brethren… Eve feared that if she let them out, they would tear her tyrannical husband into little pieces.
“Haa… Haa…” And now, she had to choose. To turn around and let someone else fix her problem, or… “Haa… HAA!!! HAA!!! HAA!!! SUNI (I’ll kill you)!!!”
A Punch to the maw, to the chest, through the ribs, to the heart! He didn’t die! He couldn’t die here! This scumbag of a man, this monster just wouldn’t go away! No matter how much pain she caused him, no matter how many times she slit his throat, broke through his torso, shocked him with spells, cut him with magical light…
And what of Cornar?
“A-A-A-A-A!!! A-A-AGH!!! HA-HA-HA-A!!! NA SHENBATA, SETOAN (you can’t get rid of me, woman)!!!” The son of Hakuo never relented. He relished in his immortality, laughed through the hellish torments Eve inflicted upon him. The skinned lion spotted a weakness in Eve’s heart, and he pressed at it, as if breaking the girl would get him back to the world of the living…
No, he wanted to take Eve to the world of dead.
“Gha-a-a-a… Agh-h-h…” The queen-to-be grabbed her forehead, her rugged breath not only siphoned all the focus out of her, threatening to cast the girl into a pit of despair, it also deteriorated her control over the mana she wielded. Unlike the city of salt, there was enough ambient magic to harvest here, but doing so would require skills, precision, and, most importantly, personal discipline and control over one’s own mind.
“Praibi, orna Iblis (Drain yourself, my Iblis)!” The prince of Batnara shashu tribe provoked, feeling the grip of the shadows losing its strength. A little more, and he’d be free… A little more…
“Hm…” But Eve wouldn’t relent. She once again covered her arm in a coat of magical lightning. She would never surrender; the queen would never let anyone treat her like a slave ever again. Not after Keyaruga’s perseverance taught her a lesson of resilience. Not after his gentleness, however tainted by his wounds, showed her what true love should look like.
She took a swing, prepared to strike…
“…” But then, two winged shadows stopped her hand. Amda and Sana, they were barely recognizable in their spiritual forms… but Eve would never mistake her parents for anyone else. They couldn’t speak, yet they still communicated with their daughter through other means. Emotions, wishes, urges – they never wished such evil to befall their daughter, but what they hated even more – was to see their child descend into the same pit.
“I… I don’t… have to?..” They asked her to stop, to let them relieve her of that burden. “B-but!.. No! You will die!” The girl snarled, grabbing her parents in a hug. She knew what was to come – her mother, father – they wished to sacrifice themselves to drag Cornar back to the afterlife. But that… wouldn’t that mean she’d lose them all over again? Wouldn’t…
“…”
“Yes! You’re dead! So what?! What do I?..” The feeling of pain and powerlessness engulfed the verdant woman. Barely had she found the strength to stand before her fallen tribe, before those who she desired to see the most now left her.
“YOTJAR (finally)!!!” With Eve’s will getting weaker, so did the shadows of her ethereal court. Her tyrannical husband finally broke free, slamming and stomping her shadows, as they fruitlessly tried stopping him. Amda and Sana Reese hugged their child for the last time… and now they stood up to defend their precious daughter. That is… the least they could do.
…
Freia broke inside another dome. From the outside, they looked like bright constellations of stars, formed on the points of a massive, galactic-scaled pentagram. The personal chamber for each of the contenders. One was broken from the inside, collapsing inwards, into a black hole with an orange halo – this was Freia’s dome. There were four more. Two were dimmed, two still shone brightly. The Hero of Magic travelled through this empty space, lit by numerous distant stars. In her current form, things like speed, form, and time – none of them mattered, aside from her destination. And now, she had to choose one of the two luminous chambers.
…
What is true power? Does one determine this abstract concept by the weight one can lift with their muscles? Maybe it was the charisma necessary to lead the masses? Enough money to influence others? Authority earned or inherited?
“Well-well-well…” Whatever the answer truly was, Ellen had none of it right now. No strength to fight, no troops to hide behind, and certainly – those who opposed her now had little if any need of whatever amount of gold she now carried.
“WENCH!”
“TANOUTUR (murderer)!”
“NEZAH (why)?!”
“MERA RIVARO (my life)!..”
“YAU MA (how dare you)!”
“YOU’LL PAY FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE, BITCH!!!”
Oh, they came for Norn. There were hundreds, if not thousands of them, some she could recall from her Murian and Teuteccain campaigns – the series of expansions past the great wall; others were the court warlords she and John unseated in her ascension; rebellious villagers too came to exact their revenge on the younger princess, after her demons decimated them; and there were the victims of Buranikka’s carnage. This was the mountain of corpses Norn Clatalissa Jioral used to climb onto the very peak of political power…
“Now then, what do you want from me? An apology? Maybe my penance?” Even now, surrounded by countless dead souls, whose entire being now revolved around their grudge, the girl wouldn’t let herself be crushed by their rage. Not mentally, at least.
“DIE!”
“MAN WOR YAKSI (give me your eyes)!”
“SUFFER, YOU MONSTER!”
“I JUST WANTED TO LIVE!!!”
And so, hundreds of voices began howling in unison. So passionate, so eager to share their hardships and aspirations, that Ellen actually started pitying them a little. So many words, so much pain in them.
“Haa… I guess, that something like this was bound to happen someday. Well…” Instead of listening to the rest of the traumatizing nonsense and wailing, the crimson-headed cutie just began… to simply undress. “I don’t have the power to struggle, I can’t break out of here, and all of you came here for me. So go on. Rape me, maul me, kill me, do whatever you want. I’ve already done everything I wanted.” Ellen, now naked and completely defenseless, stretched out on the ethereal black floor, looking into the endless black void above her. The raging souls now came closer and closer, dozens of faces now loomed above her, as their hands reached out to grab the fallen warlady and tear her apart. This… was the end.
Keyaruga, Setsuna, sister… I hope you won’t miss me too much.
And so, she closed her eyes. Time to finally die.
…
…
…
There was no pain, nobody dragged the girl around, not even a single blow fell upon her. Ellen was… safe?
“A-A-A-A!!!”
“UGH-H-H!!!”
“YOLA-A-A-A-A (it hu-u-u-urts)!!!”
Slice and dicing, the ripping of flesh and clattered bones, “death” of a sort, dealt to the undying, torment for the tormented who themselves wished to inflict suffering upon her – someone kept the restless souls away from the princess. Someone precise, fast, and masterful with his tools of mayhem.
“Haa, is that you, Organ?” Ellen asked sullenly. Denied her excruciating retribution once more, she could only cover her tightly shut eyes with her palms.
“How did you know, Your Highness?” Indeed, it was him. As brutal as he was gallant, the deceased demigod was the only one out of these dead souls, who spoke to her, and not wailed at her like some sort of a beast.
“I know only two men, who’d come for me here, and the other isn’t so discreet, you moron.” The young general replied, opening her eyelids. The first thing she saw was the Champion of Jioral, covered in black blood. His prized amber eyes were no more, only black gaping holes were there instead. “Why’re you here? Do you want a piece of me for yourself?” The girl asked, still unwilling to stand up. Honestly, she felt robbed at this moment. This would be such a fitting end for her, but no! “Don’t tell me you’ve just barged in here to… Pff! PROTECT… me.” The second princess spat these words through her painfully clenched teeth.
“First things first, Lady Norn, I suggest you cover your shame and cease this indecency.” The warrior spoke, piercing and slashing the mob with his sword, impaling them with his hidden blade, tossing them back with his kicks. He was far from his prime form, and so, wounds and sores, cuts and lesions were left on him, as he, alone, overpowered dozens of raging men and women, keeping them away from the girl he swore to protect. Indeed… “Forgive me, princess, but I made a vow to your mother, and death is hardly a valid reason to…”
“YAKS… (giv…) A-A-A-A!!!”
“…to renounce my…”
“DOKI-I-I (step away)!!!”
“…loyalty to her!”
Despite everything, no matter the odds, Hawkeye continued to push back the angry spirits. He couldn’t dodge, as every missed blow could land on the lady, he couldn’t step back, as she needed protection more than any time in her life, and, certainly, sustained by this oppressive dimension, he couldn’t die. He couldn’t kill anyone, as they just rose anew from their own black blood, but the man couldn’t retreat.
“He-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh…” The princess chuckled, curling her torso in order to sit up. It hurt her stomach, but the girl persevered nonetheless. “Why am I always surrounded by stupid stubborn men, who just can’t help but dingle their balls before me? Seriously, a dead man, upholding a promise to a dead woman, how much more ridiculous can this get?” The girl scoffed, pulling back her panties, bra, and whatever she left lying around, back on. After all, why even bother now? “Be honest, idiot! What do you want from me?”
“I came here…”
Slash, backflip, tackle, toss – Organ Trist twirled around his commander, pushing back everyone, who came too close to his prized princess.
“…to ask you, Lady Norn!..”
Shoulder slam, side-kick, a flurry of bloodshed embodied in the son of Artemis!
“…to save my…”
Stabbing enemies with that hidden blade, crushing their skulls with the handle of his blade, ripping their eyes out and tossing them away – however useless this double-sided brutality may seem, Hawkeye had purpose, skill, and, most of all, conviction, that allowed him to push the mob away.
“…daughter! Save Marianna!”
After all, what can be stronger, than a father, eager to protect his dear child?
“And you think keeping me alive will help you with that? You, moron, this bloated pigeon trapped me here! I have only one way out – fucking death!” The second princess, now properly clothed again, yelled however loud she could. Unable to comprehend the reasoning behind this idiocy, the girl just stood there, pulling her crimson hair. “Also, you’re severely mistaken! I’m not Norn! Norn’s dead! My name is…”
“…Elly! Elly-y-y!!!” Barely had the princess opened her mouth; before the dome had been breached from the outside. The Hero of Magic emerged above the ground. She levitated, using magical blue flames; she secured her sister by forming a wall around her, a barricade made from powerful ice spears. The sorceress even went so far as to send one into the undead Champion, it was one he easily avoided, though. “Step away from my sister, Organ!!!” The raging magician demanded, pulling her sibling towards her with a gust of mystical wind.
“Ghh! Oh, hey there, Friea!” The fallen warlady spoke, bracing herself against the dizziness her brief flight had caused. Still, this didn’t look good. The last time those two met, Hawkeye severely injured the pink-haired girl, and she just wouldn’t live through it again, unless two gods appeared to help her. This time, though, it was her turn to be a deity-savior.
“Get away! You’ve bested me once, but this time, I can crash this entire realm down onto your head!” The Hero of Magic promised, putting her staff between her sister and her enemy.
“Aw shit, this just gets better and better…” The little genius lamented, nervously shaking her head. Not only was her glorified suicide rudely interrupted, but now this situation threatened to kill her sister as well. Still…
“Elly, Elly… Ellen? Ellen the Adopted?” Despite Freia’s expectations, Organ Trist was more interested in the new name she called Norn, rather than anything else, really. He already had his fair share of battles, after all. “Ho-ho-o! I guess, in the end, you really did become the better version of yourself! And the ‘brother’ in question – is that sir Keyaru?” The blinded man asked with the same smugness he once boasted with in his grandiose life.
“What’s the point of answering you now? Aren’t we just traitors to you?” The heroine replied with every bit of animosity she had in her. “Hold on, Elly, I’ll get you out of here.” Freia stated, charging her staff with the magic that shaped this entire “world”.
“Heh, aren’t you afraid of what that damn poisoned pigeon might do to you for breaking her rules?” The crimson-haired cutie scoffed, witnessing the entire black dome covering with cracks.
“I don’t care about her rules! All I want is to see you safe!” The sorceress spoke with even more defiance toward Caladrius than Norn ever had in her. If needed, she would challenge this feathered nightmare to a duel, anything, just to save her family.
“I see…” Hawkeye uttered, kneeling before the two girls. All that time, rather than monitoring Freia’s moves, his supernatural senses were aimed outside, to make sure no restless souls cross the fence of magic ice. But now… “I see your eyes, Princess Flare, they’re just like hers. I’m sure; you’ll make Lady Reeharoze proud of you yet.” Now, before he once again departs to the other side, there was one last thing to tell them. First praise, then a claim… “Lady Ellen, I beg of you. The life of Marianna now lies in your hands.” …and finally a plea. With all that said, Organ Trist crumbled, his body turned into black salt. And with it, the entire realm began to collapse in itself…
“Hold tight, Elly…”
…
And now, there was only one dark dome left. Arguably, the worst of them all, this particular world was to be the prison for Keyaruga… or his cemetery. No doorways to run into, no windows to jump from. He was alone, trapped with hundreds of those who were slain by his hand. Those poor bastards – the restless souls, their minds were so obsessed with hatred, and their grudge – powered by the sheer immortality of their ethereal blackened bodies. This was hell in its purest form. The question is – a hell for who, exactly?
“YE-E-E-E-E-EAH!!! IT’S HEALING TIME!!!” Keyaruga snarled and began splattering blood all over the place. Everyone who was touched by that substance became horribly mutated – their heads bloated, their muscles strained so much, they crushed their very bones! “WHAT’S WRONG?! KILL ME!!! KILL ME NOW!!!” The man demanded, dancing around his would-be tormentors with his blade, blessing his foes with the exquisite gift of perpetual agony! Saber in his right hand, Georgius on his left, one complementing another.
Despite what the lad asked, nobody could bring him down. His immortal flesh defied any blade, his bones healed in an instant, his mad frenzy alleviated any pain.
He thought he could kill his enemies for the second and final time, give them proper death in the most excruciating manner. He was wrong…
“DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! AGAIN! AND AGAIN! AND ALL OVER AGA-A-A-A-AIN!!!” The hero yelled chopping off heads and severing limbs! He killed so many, he couldn’t even count the slayings! He murdered the same people over and over, each time their agony being more exquisite then the last!
Kill a man once, he won’t even notice, his rage will only rise! Kill him thrice – he’d waver! Five – and the seeds of fear are sown. Ten – and he’s broken completely!
Keyaruga just couldn’t help himself, he hated these scum so much, he just couldn’t contain all his passionate hatred. It was so strong, that the feeling of pure, raw, primordial wrath transcended every possible modification he had put into himself.
“A-A-A-A-A!!! UGH-H-H-H-H!!!” A soldier was weeping, hugging his boot. “S-S-S-S-SPA-A-A-ARE ME-E-E!!!”
“YO-O-OU!!! I remember you!” The healer spoke, raising the cretin by his neck. “My first kill! You watched me being raped, drugged… BEATEN!!!” The man yawped, slicing off his upper face with one nimble slice. “AND YOU NEVER!!! EVER!!! EVER FUCKING HELPED ME!!!” The lad, tainted by black and red blood, slammed the sentry into the ‘floor’…
“A-A-A-A-A!!! PLE-E-E-EASE!!!” …and gleefully sliced off his arms, ignited sparked his left armored hand into a gauntlet of blazing heat!..
“GU-GHH-GUU!!! UA-A-A-A-A-A-A!!!” And finally, cauterized the wounds, just so that the retard wouldn’t die too soon.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!!!” The crazed avenger yelled, grabbing Leonard, so conveniently nearby, weeping. “YOU SAID, I’VE DONE NOTHING FOR THIS FUCKING KINGDOM?! I’LL SHOW YOU, WHAT I CAN DO NO-O-OW!!!”
And so he did, the madman rested his two fingers on the sadist’s forehead. A second passed, and a purple spark had announced the richest form of suffering.
“Oh… U-u… Uo-o-o-o-o-o… Khh…” Indeed, although it wasn’t as vocal as previous ones, Keyaruga was more than pleased with the result. He knew of a human having specific nerves, specifically for reacting to pain. And he just overloaded them. Toxic spiders, dangerous medusas, venomous snakes and scorpions – all of them could do that with their poisons. Hell, even Keyaruga could brew neurotoxins. But damn, this thing had one ultimate merit compared to all of those – the instant effect, so potent, in fact, that the victim can’t even cry out from the excruciating pain!
“He-e! That’s a neat trick.” The lad mumbled, approaching a maid, lying on the “floor” like an embryo. Flare’s bodyguard shivered and sucked her thumb, completely lost to this twisted world. Just one little touch… “Pam! You’re already dead!” Keyaruga sneered tapping his armored fingers by her temple.
“Uh… Uh… Ugh… W… Wha-?.. A-A-A-A-A-A-AGH-H-H!!!” The woman grabbed her skull, but it was too late. All the blood, bile, and even marrow now came into her brain, bloating it, up until it burst in a fountain of black blood and shining entrails.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!! I FUCKING LOVE IT!!!” The deranged healer laughed so loud, and his presence was so overwhelming now, that nobody even dared to come close to him, let alone attack, unless they wished to become a victim of a new twisted experiment. Oh, their fear, this agonizing panic! They’re giving me a fucking boner! I wanna fuck! I want a woman! Oh, this! This will do nicely!
And so, Keyaruga dropped his saber, unfastened his belt, ripped the dress, slapped that ass which he had found, grabbed it, pushed it in! The woman with a blackened tail was slowly dying of blood loss, but that barely concerned the lad. He grabbed her pelvis and began to move, so fast, so frantic, and so mindless, that no one could see a human in him. No-o, this was a wild beast, slamming his bulging cock into the defenseless female, too tired to react, let alone resist somehow. She wasn’t even tight, just barely warm, but even that was enough. A few minutes of such suffering inflicted on her, and he came, this was a brilliant orgasm, deeply perverted, and twisted to the very core…
Oh, that’s the fucking best! I love it so much!
Keyaruga grabbed her hand, wiped his penis with it, pull back his pants, and…
I don’t remember her. I wonder, who that is.
He pushed the body, rolling it to the back.
“Ha-a-a… Hello again, Kailia…” The mad lad recognized her instantly. An agent, sent to find and assist Eve Reese in her quest, hired by someone named Carol. But that alone wouldn’t be enough to get Keyaruga to brutally rape her. “You’ve killed my Norn, but I spared you. Heh, after Kali left, I tasked you to ward off whoever they sent after my Eve, but… It seems like you’ve failed. Really, really sad.” The healer spoke, resting his left hand on her dying flesh, recovering it in an instant. And just like that… “Oh, fuck!” She nearly stabbed him with a knife. Gods only knew where she got it from… “Sit still.” But then, Keyaruga just pressed his finger on her forehead, and completely shut down her limbs functions. He pitied her… but could do nothing for this miserable leopard woman.
“Haa… Damn, it’s getting boring here.” The hero lamented, picking up his weapon of choice. At this point, he just put it back in its sheath. Only then did he spot a couple of new faces in the crowd of weeping bastards. “You there! You don’t look like you should be here. What’s… wait…”
“STAY AWAY FROM ME, MONSTER!!!” The woman cried, she was weeping into her man’s now tainted shirt.
“Heh! He-heh! No-no-no-o! Oh no-o-o!” Keyaruga frantically shook his head, unable to believe what he just saw. This was the worst. This… “Anna! Kurt! What… What’re you even doing here?! I… I avenged you! You shouldn’t have…” His parents were there, they stood among the thugs, slavers, robbers, bandits, zealots, murderers… But they… they weren’t one of them…
“You killed us, traitor. You raped my wife, after everything she’s done for you. You’re disgusting little shit!” The mighty harvester told him, pointing his war-scythe at the hero. The only thing that held him at bay, though, was his spouse, loudly crying with black tears pouring from her eyes.
“Heh… You… really think I’d…”
“No. But you’ve proven it.” Kurt spoke with the coldest possible rage in his voice. Keyaru’s cruelty couldn’t be doubted, after all. Not after everyone he maimed this day. “I don’t give a fuck, what the hell is wrong with you, but I’ll slice your guilty ass as many times as I need.” The older man spoke, pushing Anna aside. And then, he lunged.
Kurt struck as a true warrior – he was swift, accurate, precise – his war scythe – basically a reforged farming tool, grazed Keyaruga’s torso, cut his leg, he even stabbed his foster son through his chest. But… there was no blood.
“Calm down, you two.” The hero demanded, stoically taking hit after hit, like the heavy glaive-like blade was nothing. While Anna crumbled to her knees, lost in her weeping, Kurt wouldn’t stop attacking. “You can’t kill me, I’m immor-…” Barely did the lad say so; before his foster father grabbed the handle in a wide grip, and just swept his head off with one precise strike.
“NO-O-O-O-O-O-O!!!” Strangely enough, despite all of the delusions his parents had about him, Anna just couldn’t stand seeing her child being killed so brutally. “A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A!!! WHY-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y?!!!” As Keyaru’s head rolled on the ground, the thugs, at least those who weren’t affected by any of hero’s inventive afflictions, started to get rallied again.
“You had it coming, you ungrateful dipshit!” Kurt spat through tightly closed teeth. He couldn’t watch, couldn’t face what he had to do with his adopted prodigy. Even if he was a criminal. Even if…
“I really did…” But the bastards weren’t enjoying the show for too long. Right when the healer seemed to fall, a new body started to grow from his neck-stump, the clothes, the pouches, the weapons – everything turned into ash just to materialize again on the proudly standing conqueror of death itself.
“What devilry is this?” Kurt’s reaction was understandable. A mix of fear, anger, and disgust, was all over his tainted face. In turn…
“KEYARU-U-U-U!!!” Anna just dashed forward to hug her child. No matter, how disgustingly atrocious his resurrection was, without even looking at the beheaded body that now lied nearby, the woman just went ahead and embraced the lad. She… didn’t seem to be in her right mind, even for a dead soul.
“Anna, I… I…” The shivers began taking a hold of him. His hands, his knees – they trembled so much, this simple touch he though he lost forever, this… This was enough to make him cry. “I’m sorry… I’m so, so, so, so-o-o sorry!..”
“DIE, FUCKER!!!”
“THAT YOU HAVE TO SEE ME DOING THIS!!!” Keyaruga yelled, grabbing Leonard by his wrist. Just a little pressure – and he dropped his sword, the weapon faded into nothingness. Then, the man pushed Anna back, punched his foe in the gut, and proudly showed his captive to his family. “Haa… He-heh! He-e-e… This… This is Leonard, Flare’s… right hand…” The hero spoke, this time trying to maintain his sanity, as his parents now cautiously looked at him. “I… I came from the future! I had to rewind time’s flow itself… Because Flare was evil, and he…” Then, the man put his hand onto the barely struggling imbecile, thus transforming him into Keyaru, the motionless child, whose entire mobility, except for breathing, was shut down for the ease of what he was about to do. “I killed Flare! And he took my guilt. Then…” Afterwards, the healer went ahead and summoned raging flames upon his free hand. Kurt and Anna watched motionlessly, as he placed the magic-shrouded palm onto his ‘own’ face, burned it, scourged the blackened flesh with the sorcery he ‘learned’ from Flare… “My trick was revealed, and he headed out to our village, looking just like me. The rest… you know the rest.”
And finally, Keyaruga dropped the motionless doll, unable even to cry out from the excruciating pain the Hero of Healing inflicted upon it. He then faced his parents, still shocked by such a display of merciless brutality, they couldn’t even properly reply, this entire spectacle of bloodshed, mayhem, rape, torture, demonstration of immortality, and now – proofs of metamorphosis – all of that left them utterly silent.
“Kurt, Anna… I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you… But I can’t let you, or any one of these fuckers keep me here! I… I have a family! Freia, Setsuna, Ellen, Eve – I so wanted you to meet them… But you can’t now. You… might not believe me, and I understand that.” The red-eyed lad uttered, as his posture slouched more and more, along with his fading bravery. “This is what it’s like to be a man! I must be strong! I have to be ruthless now, so that nobody would challenge me in the future!” The man added, now turning his back to his foster parents. He stood straight, he stretched his shoulders, took a deep breath, and… “LISTEN HERE, YOU FUCKING MONSTERS!!! WHAT YOU’VE FELT NOW IS BUT A TINY BIT OF WHAT I’LL DO TO YOU, ONCE I’M FUCKING DEAD!!! NOW YOU WILL GO INTO THE DEEPEST PITS OF HELL, AND WHEN YOU’RE THERE, PRAY I DON’T FUCKING DIE ANYTIME SOON!!! BECAUSE WHEN I FINALLY KICK THIS SHITTY BUCKET, I’LL FIND EACH OF YOU, AND WE’LL BE PLAYING FOR THE WHOLE OF ETERNITY!!! BUT WHY WAIT, WHEN WE CAN HAVE SOME FUN NOW, HU-U-U-UH?!!!”
The speech was told, the impact made. His words were so zealous, so passionately intimidating, that the weeping fools now reached a whole new depth of despair.
“GET US OUT OF HERE!!!”
“SAVE ME-E-E-E!!!”
“HE’S THE DEVIL!!! DE-E-EVIL!!!”
“UA-A-A-A-A-A-A!!!”
“KUUNDA (I’m so scared)!!!”
“HE-E-E-E-E-ELP!!!”
And so, this entire crowd, this mob of immortal corpses, just ran away. Everyone, who could still stand on their feet, began fleeing in panic, trampling each other in the process. What they failed to notice, though, is that the dome is endless only for its main victim. Everyone else just came up against the invisible wall.
The Trial of Heart – its goal is twisted, to be certain. To pass it would mean releasing the dead souls from their grudge toward you. A saint would shift it to forgiveness, but the deranged avenger pumped so much fear in those criminals, that their hatred was replaced by the purest and most animalistic terror. Still, with the task done, the souls began to dissipate in a white light. They would finally be free…
“REMEMBER!!! YOU’VE NOT SEEN THE LAST OF ME!!! WE’LL MEET AGAIN, YOU FUCKING SHITBAGS!!!” Unfortunately for them, though, Keyaruga’s long shadow still loomed above them all. And such, even in relief, the crowd continued to cry, to sob, to wail, to…
“Keya… ru…” But not all left because of dread. When the avenger turned around, his foster mother, crumbling into white flakes, stood on her tiptoes to give him a last kiss on the cheek. “You’ve grown… so much…”
And so, she faded. Kurt quickly followed, although it wasn’t forgiveness or benevolence that filled his raging soul. No, it was an impotent acceptance. He saw Keyaruga as a mirror, in which he saw himself, before he deserted the royal guard and found himself in Alban.
“Someday… you’ll follow my path…” And this was what the man spoke at last, dropping his war-scythe to the ethereal ground. With no souls to redeem in the most twisted of ways, the dome of blackness quickly turned insufferably bright.
The Trial of Heart had been passed.