Split (1)

train · 353k rows

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	[WP] Your elder brother is the demon king, your younger sister is the ArcAngel of light, your auntie is a army general of earth, your uncle is a demi-God, your mom is the queen of death and your father is the god of life. But you are a normal human who got adopted by the most dysfunctional family.	"What's it like?" My sister asked, twirling around me in a blinding light. "Being a normal human?" Her skin was flawless and a rich brown. The golden hue emanating from her made her almost shimmer in the dim living room. "It must be so weird!" I groaned at the question, and gave her my most evil eye. "What do you mean by 'weird'?" her face fell. I was entertained at the opportunity to mortify this goodie two-shoes for being so uncouth. "I feel like you're singling me out for being different..." "Oh! I didn't mean to do that!" She exclaimed. "I mean that it is weird in a good way." Her frustrated face set her mouth at an angle, and she tweaked her nose. "I just think it is interesting, and not in a bad way." I smiled at her, and she calmed down. "Well... being a human is definitely something special." I added a dramatic flair to my voice. "Our minds are complex and they vary from person to person." Her attentive stare told me I had all of her attention. "For example, did you know that humans are capable of communicating with each other telepathically?" Her eyes widened, "Whaaaaaat?" She was appalled. "I didn't know that!" Her light fluctuated, showing that she was losing control of her normally contained emotions. "That is so cool!" The room darkened in spite of her light, and we both heard the distinctive howl of a banshee. A pale face pulled out from the darkness. It has pale, orange eyes and shriveled skin. Grey mist tumbled from her robe. Again, I groaned. "Hello, mother." "Jason, do not tell lies to your sister about humans!" She spoke with two voices -- a high, clear one and raspy low one. Both were feminine. "You know she is only a few thousand years old." She caressed Jenna's face, and smiled with her perfect teeth." "Mother, I am 23 years old." Her smile dropped. My face reddened and I turned away. "Jenna, don't believe him." Jenna glared at me for lying. She was a being of truth, and so despised misleading information. "Humans do not communicate telepathically." She looked up, thoughtfully. "I deal with humans all the time. I would know if they had something like that." She patted my back. "Humans do shed their skin periodically and enjoy exchanging body fluids for some reason." I fell off my chair.	I sit. I think, typically. I didn't know places like this existed anymore. Reagan closed them all, I'd heard it told. The other patients have made an attachment of me. It is why they will suffer. They already suffer, because of their attachments. Each one is as pathological as the next, yet they feel they must lie. The lie each one tells themself, and me, for whatever reason, is more. It is a touchstone. It is baggage. Most days, I try not to listen. They are frustrated Emperor Nortons. Angry that the world at large prefers its popular lies, even though, (And they know) Theirs are better. I tend to agree; What little plausible personal history they reveal is bloodless. Excepting for the blood smears their personal history has left on them. Somewhere, at some point in these people's lives, something happened. And the blood, their blood, that stains their darkest, hidden self? It is what drives them toward this form of insanity, rather than another. These characters they decided they would rather be may talk a big game. But none of these "benighted" souls are war-makers. They are only a harm to themselves. I, on the other hand, finding myself here, need to consider harm deeply. Every moment spent considering the options I have to extricate myself? A moment goes by that these, and so many others, suffer needlessly. And this one, I, have done something entirely inextraordinary. I sat. When my world burned down, thrown into a squad car, lucky to be alive... Cast into a Rachetic dungeon, the filth antiseptic, the pharmacology only trial... I sat. Confronting myself and all the illusions I had so desperately cleaved to. I discovered, that those orange-robed, smiling bastards I had only met once? Turns out they were right about desire and attachment, and suffering. I had tripped over my shoelaces into Nirvana. I had liberated my conceit of the ego-self beyond its most wild predictions: By chance, I had less liberated it and more VAPORIZED it. Funnily, I did it on accident, and entirely without prior such belief. I mean, for the most part, transmigration, karma, prayer wheels? Pfffshhh, my main man Siddy G. probably would've cocked a brow. So I sat. So I smiled. ------ *In the end, perhaps it is only fitting.* I am very likely completely out of place here. I am also very likely completely dissimilar to my new acquaintances. Yet, to the self-styled sane, I am indistinguishable from those suffering insanity. Save, if they cared to look, for the absence of suffering. Likewise, to those who spin unreal, fantastic stories of self-importance? I am a completely normal human being, the thing that they used to be. Save, if they cared to acknowledge, that I'm not permitted to leave. ------ *In a sanitarium overrun with metaphysical and cosmological pretenders,* *I hold an awareness, that it is man's folly, to pretend to be apart from anything at all.* I MEAN, THESE POOR LOONIES HAVE A BUDDHA IN THEIR BELFRY!
	[WP] Your elder brother is the demon king, your younger sister is the ArcAngel of light, your auntie is a army general of earth, your uncle is a demi-God, your mom is the queen of death and your father is the god of life. But you are a normal human who got adopted by the most dysfunctional family.	This is exactly why I don’t ever bring friends over. They’re staring at her, gawking at her – all of them. There are many gifts and powers clustered around this dining table, but self-awareness is not one of them. &#x200B; For her part, Sarah is taking no notice, scarfing down her food at a rather impressive rate. Admittedly, I’m usually the same after practice, but this time I’m too nervous to stuff myself. This is the first time I’m having a friend sleep-over for five years – and the last time did not go well. I’d have happily put this off for another five years, but Sarah is my best friend, and I couldn’t hold out any longer. &#x200B; “I’ve heard so much about you!” auntie gushes. She glares at me, her glamour falling for a split second revealing purple fire burning in her eyes. “She never lets me meet her friends.” &#x200B; “If I knew your food was so good I’d have been here a long time ago.” Sarah smiles, bringing out the dimples in her cheeks. “Honestly, this is amazing.” &#x200B; “I made it,” uncle says proudly. &#x200B; I stifle a chuckle. I would hardly consider bribing one of the world’s best chefs as cooking, but I’m not complaining. &#x200B; The clunk of steel boots across the floor announces the arrival of my brother. He catches the packed food dad throws him and stomps away, not a word exchanged. &#x200B; “That’s my brother,” I explain. “He’s…going to work.” &#x200B; “At this time?” Sarah exclaims. “Sounds rough. &#x200B; I shrug. “Night shifts.” &#x200B; “Speaking of – what do you guys do?” Sarah asks. She frowns, and waves a fork in my general direction “I don’t think she’s ever actually explained.” &#x200B; “Ah well,” mum hedges, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I work… in the funeral business.” &#x200B; “And I’m a birth doctor,” Dad says, with only the slightest bit of hesitation. &#x200B; “That’s so cool!” Sarah says. “You two are like, life and death!” &#x200B; He laughs, and the world becomes a little bit brighter. “Yes, very much like that.” &#x200B; “I’m military,” auntie says. “I could tell you more, but then I’d have to kill you.” &#x200B; “Can we please not have any killing?” I know she’s joking, but there are some risks I do not take when it comes to supernatural army generals. &#x200B; Sarah takes it in stride, laughing it off. “And you?” she asks uncle. &#x200B; “I…uh…its complicated.” &#x200B; “He doesn’t do very much,” auntie comments, a bit of bite to her tone. “He used to be military too, but now he sorts of just travels around doing silly quests.” &#x200B; “Quests sound cool,” Sarah says. &#x200B; “Not these ones they’re not,” she replies. &#x200B; Happily enough, Uncle refuses to take the bait, settling for an eye-roll. &#x200B; I lean back as conversation flows around me and smile to myself. They’re an odd bunch, but they’re family, and I wouldn’t change that for the world. \_\_\_ edit: minor grammar	I sit. I think, typically. I didn't know places like this existed anymore. Reagan closed them all, I'd heard it told. The other patients have made an attachment of me. It is why they will suffer. They already suffer, because of their attachments. Each one is as pathological as the next, yet they feel they must lie. The lie each one tells themself, and me, for whatever reason, is more. It is a touchstone. It is baggage. Most days, I try not to listen. They are frustrated Emperor Nortons. Angry that the world at large prefers its popular lies, even though, (And they know) Theirs are better. I tend to agree; What little plausible personal history they reveal is bloodless. Excepting for the blood smears their personal history has left on them. Somewhere, at some point in these people's lives, something happened. And the blood, their blood, that stains their darkest, hidden self? It is what drives them toward this form of insanity, rather than another. These characters they decided they would rather be may talk a big game. But none of these "benighted" souls are war-makers. They are only a harm to themselves. I, on the other hand, finding myself here, need to consider harm deeply. Every moment spent considering the options I have to extricate myself? A moment goes by that these, and so many others, suffer needlessly. And this one, I, have done something entirely inextraordinary. I sat. When my world burned down, thrown into a squad car, lucky to be alive... Cast into a Rachetic dungeon, the filth antiseptic, the pharmacology only trial... I sat. Confronting myself and all the illusions I had so desperately cleaved to. I discovered, that those orange-robed, smiling bastards I had only met once? Turns out they were right about desire and attachment, and suffering. I had tripped over my shoelaces into Nirvana. I had liberated my conceit of the ego-self beyond its most wild predictions: By chance, I had less liberated it and more VAPORIZED it. Funnily, I did it on accident, and entirely without prior such belief. I mean, for the most part, transmigration, karma, prayer wheels? Pfffshhh, my main man Siddy G. probably would've cocked a brow. So I sat. So I smiled. ------ *In the end, perhaps it is only fitting.* I am very likely completely out of place here. I am also very likely completely dissimilar to my new acquaintances. Yet, to the self-styled sane, I am indistinguishable from those suffering insanity. Save, if they cared to look, for the absence of suffering. Likewise, to those who spin unreal, fantastic stories of self-importance? I am a completely normal human being, the thing that they used to be. Save, if they cared to acknowledge, that I'm not permitted to leave. ------ *In a sanitarium overrun with metaphysical and cosmological pretenders,* *I hold an awareness, that it is man's folly, to pretend to be apart from anything at all.* I MEAN, THESE POOR LOONIES HAVE A BUDDHA IN THEIR BELFRY!
	[WP] Your elder brother is the demon king, your younger sister is the ArcAngel of light, your auntie is a army general of earth, your uncle is a demi-God, your mom is the queen of death and your father is the god of life. But you are a normal human who got adopted by the most dysfunctional family.	Dear diary: big bro keeps on trying to get me to meet girls or introduce me to his friends, that would be fine if i was into 75 ft tall fire breathing beings of destruction. He doesn't seem to understand the fact that its kind of hard to stay alive as is and that i don't need to add in another variant of mystical natural selection to my current predicament. Aside from that school life sucks as usual, mom and dad are always competing in the form of my science projects. I got dads help with the spring fair and i won first prize on a state level for a wand that speeds up the fertility cycle of plants. Mom of course had to out do him, and i went on to win national prize with moms help on a "soul harvester" device as clean renewable energy as people are bound to keep dying. Sis seems to be the only one who understands but she always ends up giving me lecture on "The power of good" and "don't give up hope" for the future. i should probably see if i can find some sort of divine contract or "prophecy" so i don't pass away again when mom sneezes. Dad, i can't wait for college.	I sit. I think, typically. I didn't know places like this existed anymore. Reagan closed them all, I'd heard it told. The other patients have made an attachment of me. It is why they will suffer. They already suffer, because of their attachments. Each one is as pathological as the next, yet they feel they must lie. The lie each one tells themself, and me, for whatever reason, is more. It is a touchstone. It is baggage. Most days, I try not to listen. They are frustrated Emperor Nortons. Angry that the world at large prefers its popular lies, even though, (And they know) Theirs are better. I tend to agree; What little plausible personal history they reveal is bloodless. Excepting for the blood smears their personal history has left on them. Somewhere, at some point in these people's lives, something happened. And the blood, their blood, that stains their darkest, hidden self? It is what drives them toward this form of insanity, rather than another. These characters they decided they would rather be may talk a big game. But none of these "benighted" souls are war-makers. They are only a harm to themselves. I, on the other hand, finding myself here, need to consider harm deeply. Every moment spent considering the options I have to extricate myself? A moment goes by that these, and so many others, suffer needlessly. And this one, I, have done something entirely inextraordinary. I sat. When my world burned down, thrown into a squad car, lucky to be alive... Cast into a Rachetic dungeon, the filth antiseptic, the pharmacology only trial... I sat. Confronting myself and all the illusions I had so desperately cleaved to. I discovered, that those orange-robed, smiling bastards I had only met once? Turns out they were right about desire and attachment, and suffering. I had tripped over my shoelaces into Nirvana. I had liberated my conceit of the ego-self beyond its most wild predictions: By chance, I had less liberated it and more VAPORIZED it. Funnily, I did it on accident, and entirely without prior such belief. I mean, for the most part, transmigration, karma, prayer wheels? Pfffshhh, my main man Siddy G. probably would've cocked a brow. So I sat. So I smiled. ------ *In the end, perhaps it is only fitting.* I am very likely completely out of place here. I am also very likely completely dissimilar to my new acquaintances. Yet, to the self-styled sane, I am indistinguishable from those suffering insanity. Save, if they cared to look, for the absence of suffering. Likewise, to those who spin unreal, fantastic stories of self-importance? I am a completely normal human being, the thing that they used to be. Save, if they cared to acknowledge, that I'm not permitted to leave. ------ *In a sanitarium overrun with metaphysical and cosmological pretenders,* *I hold an awareness, that it is man's folly, to pretend to be apart from anything at all.* I MEAN, THESE POOR LOONIES HAVE A BUDDHA IN THEIR BELFRY!
	[WP] Your elder brother is the demon king, your younger sister is the ArcAngel of light, your auntie is a army general of earth, your uncle is a demi-God, your mom is the queen of death and your father is the god of life. But you are a normal human who got adopted by the most dysfunctional family.	“Are... Are you sure this is legal?” “The DM said that we could be anything,” was what nearly the entire table responded to my question. This story was supposed to be about a bunch of orphans that only have themselves as family. Right now, my poor human monk is surrounded by Mary Sue characters of every genre. Before I could retort that, Phil, the most amazing GM, came into the room with the now paid for pepperoni pizza. “Alright, so how’re the characters?” “Take a look at theirs,” I said quickly, which managed to make Phil raise an eyebrow. Gingerly picking up the ‘Demon King’s’ character sheet. His confusion instantly morphed into a look of ‘what the fuck’. “What the fuck?” “Exactly.” Phil went around the table looking at the sheets, expression getting more profound with every look-see. Once again, he murmured, “What the fuck?” Then he picked up mine. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with—,” He held a finger up to shush me as he skimmed my character. Afterwards, he sighed, then gave it back to me. “Look, guys. With the characters you guys made, this campaign I spent a month writing up will end in a single action of dumbfuckery. We can start it next week if you guys make actually balanced characters. Who’s up for Cards Against Humanity instead?” I was confused. “Hold on. What was wrong with mine?” He gave me a stern look. “Dude. You made him have a Strength mod 76, an armor class of 50, and have 400 hit points at level one. And his name is Saitama.”	I sit. I think, typically. I didn't know places like this existed anymore. Reagan closed them all, I'd heard it told. The other patients have made an attachment of me. It is why they will suffer. They already suffer, because of their attachments. Each one is as pathological as the next, yet they feel they must lie. The lie each one tells themself, and me, for whatever reason, is more. It is a touchstone. It is baggage. Most days, I try not to listen. They are frustrated Emperor Nortons. Angry that the world at large prefers its popular lies, even though, (And they know) Theirs are better. I tend to agree; What little plausible personal history they reveal is bloodless. Excepting for the blood smears their personal history has left on them. Somewhere, at some point in these people's lives, something happened. And the blood, their blood, that stains their darkest, hidden self? It is what drives them toward this form of insanity, rather than another. These characters they decided they would rather be may talk a big game. But none of these "benighted" souls are war-makers. They are only a harm to themselves. I, on the other hand, finding myself here, need to consider harm deeply. Every moment spent considering the options I have to extricate myself? A moment goes by that these, and so many others, suffer needlessly. And this one, I, have done something entirely inextraordinary. I sat. When my world burned down, thrown into a squad car, lucky to be alive... Cast into a Rachetic dungeon, the filth antiseptic, the pharmacology only trial... I sat. Confronting myself and all the illusions I had so desperately cleaved to. I discovered, that those orange-robed, smiling bastards I had only met once? Turns out they were right about desire and attachment, and suffering. I had tripped over my shoelaces into Nirvana. I had liberated my conceit of the ego-self beyond its most wild predictions: By chance, I had less liberated it and more VAPORIZED it. Funnily, I did it on accident, and entirely without prior such belief. I mean, for the most part, transmigration, karma, prayer wheels? Pfffshhh, my main man Siddy G. probably would've cocked a brow. So I sat. So I smiled. ------ *In the end, perhaps it is only fitting.* I am very likely completely out of place here. I am also very likely completely dissimilar to my new acquaintances. Yet, to the self-styled sane, I am indistinguishable from those suffering insanity. Save, if they cared to look, for the absence of suffering. Likewise, to those who spin unreal, fantastic stories of self-importance? I am a completely normal human being, the thing that they used to be. Save, if they cared to acknowledge, that I'm not permitted to leave. ------ *In a sanitarium overrun with metaphysical and cosmological pretenders,* *I hold an awareness, that it is man's folly, to pretend to be apart from anything at all.* I MEAN, THESE POOR LOONIES HAVE A BUDDHA IN THEIR BELFRY!
	[WP] Your elder brother is the demon king, your younger sister is the ArcAngel of light, your auntie is a army general of earth, your uncle is a demi-God, your mom is the queen of death and your father is the god of life. But you are a normal human who got adopted by the most dysfunctional family.	This'll get lost in the comments cause I'm five hours late and this is my first story but I've been waiting for this, (figuratively) forever. A day where all of my family was FINALLY out the house, and I could have the place to myself. Don't get it wrong, I don't hate my family, but privacy is a very rare, and very expensive commodity when both of your parents are half-omniscient beings of unimaginable power. Grabbing my bowl of popcorn from the coffee table, I lament my usual lack of alone time and try to regain some sense of independence by putting spongebob on the TV. Nothing says teenage rebellion quite like watching children's shows. Unfortunately, my pleasant afternoon screeches to a halt, and so does the living room TV. Apparently, they stop working after they get a 3 foot long spike embedded in the screen. Who knew? Before I could seriously start trying to find out what the spike hit to have made the TV stop working, I am snapped out of my reverie by a _supernaturally_ loud shouting match, making me spill all my popcorn. Instantly recognizing the voices, I can't help but smile about what it is this time. Grabbing some ear protection I open the door and walk outside. "WENCH, YOUR PLAYTHING HAS BREACHED THE BOUNDARY THAT I HAVE DEEMED ACCEPTABLE ACTION. My older brother Daemion's booming voice, quieted by my earpro seems to be more regal and mature than I last heard him. Seems like he's growing into the whole "Demon King" role. "THAT WAS MY SUMMER HOUSE, AND HE BURNED IT DOWN. I THROUGH MY BESTEST PARTIES THERE" Ah, Never mind. A more feminine screech tears across the sky, and presumably into the neighboring houses. not that most of them are even occupied. Eldritch gods, suprisingly, aren't home often. "ARRGHH" Telling from that groan my sister Angelica's back from her temp job reincarnating souls. great. "YOU SENT YOUR DEMONS TO DEFACE _MY_ STATUES AND YOU DON'T EXPECT ME TO RESPOND?" Actually, that was me. I can make a mean mustache when I get too bored. Not that I'm telling. "I DID NOT" "DID TO" "DID NOT" "DID TO" Gotta time this right. aaaand NOW bang "DID N-" As quick as I mortally can, I stick my glock brand glock back into my waistband and turn, trying to walk/walk really fast away and succeeding, for the most part. suddenly I feel a heavy pressure on my back, preventing me from taking another step. "Hansel, did you just try to shoot me?" "No, I shot at you." "what's the difference?" Before I could answer, A golden chariot pulled by a couple of huge white draft horses materialized right on the driveway. Right on time. Mom and Dad are home. Mom takes a look at the situation and is the first to speak. "You handle this, I'll get dinner started" As she walks into the house, leaving a trail of dead weeds in her wake, she leaves us in an awkward, but brief silence even more deafening than the previous cacophony. "Why all the racket?" asks my Dad with all the tentative tone of what could be a future headache. Before he could even finish speaking, my sisten makes her case. "Daemion defaced my largest statue while I was away" Daemion starts but before he could finish, "Hans, apologize." Fuck. after alot of accusatory finger pointing, yelling, and "who shot who" later, I finally say "sorry". But not without my fingers crossed begind my back. "Uncross them, and I expect that staute clean by monday morning." "yessir" Suprisingly, gods are laid back punishers. I futher more appreciate the purchase of this earpro after suffering through another otherworldly shout. "WHO SPILLED ALL OF THIS POPCORN OF MY DAEDALUS GRIFFIN SKIN RUG? AND WHY IS THERE A SPIKE THROUGH THE QLED TV?" Aw shit. here we go again..	"You take a left at the blacksmith and you'll reach Gretta's Inn. There you'll find your first steps into the world, a warm place to sleep through the cold and a mug of stale lager. Good luck adventurer." The pair clomped their way out of the tavern, the wooden floors squeeking away at their weight. Despite their looks, the smaller mage would more likely make it out of the village alive. My regulars sat at the end of the bar bickering over the best jam, in an endless loop between strawberry versus blackberry. Cleaning another glass, I shook my head. Neither of them had ever had jam before. They both had dementia. A pair of fair skinned redheaded maidens walked in, wearing scruffy guards uniforms. One held a broken sword and the other the head of a goblin. "We have completed your task, barkeep." "Perfect. Here is your reward." A small bag of gold appeared in their hands, replacing both the sword and the corpsified head. I continued cleaning the glass. "Can we stay in your inn for the night? It is getting late." I shook my head. "You take a left at the blacksmith and you'll reach Gretta's Inn. There you'll find your first steps into the world, a warm place to sleep through the cold and a mug of stale lager. Good luck adventurer." They nodded and exited the tavern. I looked over at the regulars. Still talking about jam. While it wasn't living in an palace, I didn't have to deal with the constant pressure of keeping up face, or continuously bickering with notions of death and life. I kept mine life simple as could be asked. When I moved out from my parents, they gifted me immortality and the protection of Death. My brother gave me an income and my sister gave me the protection of faith. To them, I gave them all space. To listen when they needed to vent, to comfort in times of great need and to hear from the common man what is and is not real. It wasn't gold, or purpose, but it was what I could provide. Another traveller walked in. "Barkeep, we have completed your quest..."
	[WP] Your elder brother is the demon king, your younger sister is the ArcAngel of light, your auntie is a army general of earth, your uncle is a demi-God, your mom is the queen of death and your father is the god of life. But you are a normal human who got adopted by the most dysfunctional family.	"What's it like?" My sister asked, twirling around me in a blinding light. "Being a normal human?" Her skin was flawless and a rich brown. The golden hue emanating from her made her almost shimmer in the dim living room. "It must be so weird!" I groaned at the question, and gave her my most evil eye. "What do you mean by 'weird'?" her face fell. I was entertained at the opportunity to mortify this goodie two-shoes for being so uncouth. "I feel like you're singling me out for being different..." "Oh! I didn't mean to do that!" She exclaimed. "I mean that it is weird in a good way." Her frustrated face set her mouth at an angle, and she tweaked her nose. "I just think it is interesting, and not in a bad way." I smiled at her, and she calmed down. "Well... being a human is definitely something special." I added a dramatic flair to my voice. "Our minds are complex and they vary from person to person." Her attentive stare told me I had all of her attention. "For example, did you know that humans are capable of communicating with each other telepathically?" Her eyes widened, "Whaaaaaat?" She was appalled. "I didn't know that!" Her light fluctuated, showing that she was losing control of her normally contained emotions. "That is so cool!" The room darkened in spite of her light, and we both heard the distinctive howl of a banshee. A pale face pulled out from the darkness. It has pale, orange eyes and shriveled skin. Grey mist tumbled from her robe. Again, I groaned. "Hello, mother." "Jason, do not tell lies to your sister about humans!" She spoke with two voices -- a high, clear one and raspy low one. Both were feminine. "You know she is only a few thousand years old." She caressed Jenna's face, and smiled with her perfect teeth." "Mother, I am 23 years old." Her smile dropped. My face reddened and I turned away. "Jenna, don't believe him." Jenna glared at me for lying. She was a being of truth, and so despised misleading information. "Humans do not communicate telepathically." She looked up, thoughtfully. "I deal with humans all the time. I would know if they had something like that." She patted my back. "Humans do shed their skin periodically and enjoy exchanging body fluids for some reason." I fell off my chair.	"You take a left at the blacksmith and you'll reach Gretta's Inn. There you'll find your first steps into the world, a warm place to sleep through the cold and a mug of stale lager. Good luck adventurer." The pair clomped their way out of the tavern, the wooden floors squeeking away at their weight. Despite their looks, the smaller mage would more likely make it out of the village alive. My regulars sat at the end of the bar bickering over the best jam, in an endless loop between strawberry versus blackberry. Cleaning another glass, I shook my head. Neither of them had ever had jam before. They both had dementia. A pair of fair skinned redheaded maidens walked in, wearing scruffy guards uniforms. One held a broken sword and the other the head of a goblin. "We have completed your task, barkeep." "Perfect. Here is your reward." A small bag of gold appeared in their hands, replacing both the sword and the corpsified head. I continued cleaning the glass. "Can we stay in your inn for the night? It is getting late." I shook my head. "You take a left at the blacksmith and you'll reach Gretta's Inn. There you'll find your first steps into the world, a warm place to sleep through the cold and a mug of stale lager. Good luck adventurer." They nodded and exited the tavern. I looked over at the regulars. Still talking about jam. While it wasn't living in an palace, I didn't have to deal with the constant pressure of keeping up face, or continuously bickering with notions of death and life. I kept mine life simple as could be asked. When I moved out from my parents, they gifted me immortality and the protection of Death. My brother gave me an income and my sister gave me the protection of faith. To them, I gave them all space. To listen when they needed to vent, to comfort in times of great need and to hear from the common man what is and is not real. It wasn't gold, or purpose, but it was what I could provide. Another traveller walked in. "Barkeep, we have completed your quest..."
	[WP] Your elder brother is the demon king, your younger sister is the ArcAngel of light, your auntie is a army general of earth, your uncle is a demi-God, your mom is the queen of death and your father is the god of life. But you are a normal human who got adopted by the most dysfunctional family.	This is exactly why I don’t ever bring friends over. They’re staring at her, gawking at her – all of them. There are many gifts and powers clustered around this dining table, but self-awareness is not one of them. &#x200B; For her part, Sarah is taking no notice, scarfing down her food at a rather impressive rate. Admittedly, I’m usually the same after practice, but this time I’m too nervous to stuff myself. This is the first time I’m having a friend sleep-over for five years – and the last time did not go well. I’d have happily put this off for another five years, but Sarah is my best friend, and I couldn’t hold out any longer. &#x200B; “I’ve heard so much about you!” auntie gushes. She glares at me, her glamour falling for a split second revealing purple fire burning in her eyes. “She never lets me meet her friends.” &#x200B; “If I knew your food was so good I’d have been here a long time ago.” Sarah smiles, bringing out the dimples in her cheeks. “Honestly, this is amazing.” &#x200B; “I made it,” uncle says proudly. &#x200B; I stifle a chuckle. I would hardly consider bribing one of the world’s best chefs as cooking, but I’m not complaining. &#x200B; The clunk of steel boots across the floor announces the arrival of my brother. He catches the packed food dad throws him and stomps away, not a word exchanged. &#x200B; “That’s my brother,” I explain. “He’s…going to work.” &#x200B; “At this time?” Sarah exclaims. “Sounds rough. &#x200B; I shrug. “Night shifts.” &#x200B; “Speaking of – what do you guys do?” Sarah asks. She frowns, and waves a fork in my general direction “I don’t think she’s ever actually explained.” &#x200B; “Ah well,” mum hedges, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I work… in the funeral business.” &#x200B; “And I’m a birth doctor,” Dad says, with only the slightest bit of hesitation. &#x200B; “That’s so cool!” Sarah says. “You two are like, life and death!” &#x200B; He laughs, and the world becomes a little bit brighter. “Yes, very much like that.” &#x200B; “I’m military,” auntie says. “I could tell you more, but then I’d have to kill you.” &#x200B; “Can we please not have any killing?” I know she’s joking, but there are some risks I do not take when it comes to supernatural army generals. &#x200B; Sarah takes it in stride, laughing it off. “And you?” she asks uncle. &#x200B; “I…uh…its complicated.” &#x200B; “He doesn’t do very much,” auntie comments, a bit of bite to her tone. “He used to be military too, but now he sorts of just travels around doing silly quests.” &#x200B; “Quests sound cool,” Sarah says. &#x200B; “Not these ones they’re not,” she replies. &#x200B; Happily enough, Uncle refuses to take the bait, settling for an eye-roll. &#x200B; I lean back as conversation flows around me and smile to myself. They’re an odd bunch, but they’re family, and I wouldn’t change that for the world. \_\_\_ edit: minor grammar	"You take a left at the blacksmith and you'll reach Gretta's Inn. There you'll find your first steps into the world, a warm place to sleep through the cold and a mug of stale lager. Good luck adventurer." The pair clomped their way out of the tavern, the wooden floors squeeking away at their weight. Despite their looks, the smaller mage would more likely make it out of the village alive. My regulars sat at the end of the bar bickering over the best jam, in an endless loop between strawberry versus blackberry. Cleaning another glass, I shook my head. Neither of them had ever had jam before. They both had dementia. A pair of fair skinned redheaded maidens walked in, wearing scruffy guards uniforms. One held a broken sword and the other the head of a goblin. "We have completed your task, barkeep." "Perfect. Here is your reward." A small bag of gold appeared in their hands, replacing both the sword and the corpsified head. I continued cleaning the glass. "Can we stay in your inn for the night? It is getting late." I shook my head. "You take a left at the blacksmith and you'll reach Gretta's Inn. There you'll find your first steps into the world, a warm place to sleep through the cold and a mug of stale lager. Good luck adventurer." They nodded and exited the tavern. I looked over at the regulars. Still talking about jam. While it wasn't living in an palace, I didn't have to deal with the constant pressure of keeping up face, or continuously bickering with notions of death and life. I kept mine life simple as could be asked. When I moved out from my parents, they gifted me immortality and the protection of Death. My brother gave me an income and my sister gave me the protection of faith. To them, I gave them all space. To listen when they needed to vent, to comfort in times of great need and to hear from the common man what is and is not real. It wasn't gold, or purpose, but it was what I could provide. Another traveller walked in. "Barkeep, we have completed your quest..."
	[WP] Your elder brother is the demon king, your younger sister is the ArcAngel of light, your auntie is a army general of earth, your uncle is a demi-God, your mom is the queen of death and your father is the god of life. But you are a normal human who got adopted by the most dysfunctional family.	"What's it like?" My sister asked, twirling around me in a blinding light. "Being a normal human?" Her skin was flawless and a rich brown. The golden hue emanating from her made her almost shimmer in the dim living room. "It must be so weird!" I groaned at the question, and gave her my most evil eye. "What do you mean by 'weird'?" her face fell. I was entertained at the opportunity to mortify this goodie two-shoes for being so uncouth. "I feel like you're singling me out for being different..." "Oh! I didn't mean to do that!" She exclaimed. "I mean that it is weird in a good way." Her frustrated face set her mouth at an angle, and she tweaked her nose. "I just think it is interesting, and not in a bad way." I smiled at her, and she calmed down. "Well... being a human is definitely something special." I added a dramatic flair to my voice. "Our minds are complex and they vary from person to person." Her attentive stare told me I had all of her attention. "For example, did you know that humans are capable of communicating with each other telepathically?" Her eyes widened, "Whaaaaaat?" She was appalled. "I didn't know that!" Her light fluctuated, showing that she was losing control of her normally contained emotions. "That is so cool!" The room darkened in spite of her light, and we both heard the distinctive howl of a banshee. A pale face pulled out from the darkness. It has pale, orange eyes and shriveled skin. Grey mist tumbled from her robe. Again, I groaned. "Hello, mother." "Jason, do not tell lies to your sister about humans!" She spoke with two voices -- a high, clear one and raspy low one. Both were feminine. "You know she is only a few thousand years old." She caressed Jenna's face, and smiled with her perfect teeth." "Mother, I am 23 years old." Her smile dropped. My face reddened and I turned away. "Jenna, don't believe him." Jenna glared at me for lying. She was a being of truth, and so despised misleading information. "Humans do not communicate telepathically." She looked up, thoughtfully. "I deal with humans all the time. I would know if they had something like that." She patted my back. "Humans do shed their skin periodically and enjoy exchanging body fluids for some reason." I fell off my chair.	This'll get lost in the comments cause I'm five hours late and this is my first story but I've been waiting for this, (figuratively) forever. A day where all of my family was FINALLY out the house, and I could have the place to myself. Don't get it wrong, I don't hate my family, but privacy is a very rare, and very expensive commodity when both of your parents are half-omniscient beings of unimaginable power. Grabbing my bowl of popcorn from the coffee table, I lament my usual lack of alone time and try to regain some sense of independence by putting spongebob on the TV. Nothing says teenage rebellion quite like watching children's shows. Unfortunately, my pleasant afternoon screeches to a halt, and so does the living room TV. Apparently, they stop working after they get a 3 foot long spike embedded in the screen. Who knew? Before I could seriously start trying to find out what the spike hit to have made the TV stop working, I am snapped out of my reverie by a _supernaturally_ loud shouting match, making me spill all my popcorn. Instantly recognizing the voices, I can't help but smile about what it is this time. Grabbing some ear protection I open the door and walk outside. "WENCH, YOUR PLAYTHING HAS BREACHED THE BOUNDARY THAT I HAVE DEEMED ACCEPTABLE ACTION. My older brother Daemion's booming voice, quieted by my earpro seems to be more regal and mature than I last heard him. Seems like he's growing into the whole "Demon King" role. "THAT WAS MY SUMMER HOUSE, AND HE BURNED IT DOWN. I THROUGH MY BESTEST PARTIES THERE" Ah, Never mind. A more feminine screech tears across the sky, and presumably into the neighboring houses. not that most of them are even occupied. Eldritch gods, suprisingly, aren't home often. "ARRGHH" Telling from that groan my sister Angelica's back from her temp job reincarnating souls. great. "YOU SENT YOUR DEMONS TO DEFACE _MY_ STATUES AND YOU DON'T EXPECT ME TO RESPOND?" Actually, that was me. I can make a mean mustache when I get too bored. Not that I'm telling. "I DID NOT" "DID TO" "DID NOT" "DID TO" Gotta time this right. aaaand NOW bang "DID N-" As quick as I mortally can, I stick my glock brand glock back into my waistband and turn, trying to walk/walk really fast away and succeeding, for the most part. suddenly I feel a heavy pressure on my back, preventing me from taking another step. "Hansel, did you just try to shoot me?" "No, I shot at you." "what's the difference?" Before I could answer, A golden chariot pulled by a couple of huge white draft horses materialized right on the driveway. Right on time. Mom and Dad are home. Mom takes a look at the situation and is the first to speak. "You handle this, I'll get dinner started" As she walks into the house, leaving a trail of dead weeds in her wake, she leaves us in an awkward, but brief silence even more deafening than the previous cacophony. "Why all the racket?" asks my Dad with all the tentative tone of what could be a future headache. Before he could even finish speaking, my sisten makes her case. "Daemion defaced my largest statue while I was away" Daemion starts but before he could finish, "Hans, apologize." Fuck. after alot of accusatory finger pointing, yelling, and "who shot who" later, I finally say "sorry". But not without my fingers crossed begind my back. "Uncross them, and I expect that staute clean by monday morning." "yessir" Suprisingly, gods are laid back punishers. I futher more appreciate the purchase of this earpro after suffering through another otherworldly shout. "WHO SPILLED ALL OF THIS POPCORN OF MY DAEDALUS GRIFFIN SKIN RUG? AND WHY IS THERE A SPIKE THROUGH THE QLED TV?" Aw shit. here we go again..
	[WP] Your elder brother is the demon king, your younger sister is the ArcAngel of light, your auntie is a army general of earth, your uncle is a demi-God, your mom is the queen of death and your father is the god of life. But you are a normal human who got adopted by the most dysfunctional family.	“Are... Are you sure this is legal?” “The DM said that we could be anything,” was what nearly the entire table responded to my question. This story was supposed to be about a bunch of orphans that only have themselves as family. Right now, my poor human monk is surrounded by Mary Sue characters of every genre. Before I could retort that, Phil, the most amazing GM, came into the room with the now paid for pepperoni pizza. “Alright, so how’re the characters?” “Take a look at theirs,” I said quickly, which managed to make Phil raise an eyebrow. Gingerly picking up the ‘Demon King’s’ character sheet. His confusion instantly morphed into a look of ‘what the fuck’. “What the fuck?” “Exactly.” Phil went around the table looking at the sheets, expression getting more profound with every look-see. Once again, he murmured, “What the fuck?” Then he picked up mine. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with—,” He held a finger up to shush me as he skimmed my character. Afterwards, he sighed, then gave it back to me. “Look, guys. With the characters you guys made, this campaign I spent a month writing up will end in a single action of dumbfuckery. We can start it next week if you guys make actually balanced characters. Who’s up for Cards Against Humanity instead?” I was confused. “Hold on. What was wrong with mine?” He gave me a stern look. “Dude. You made him have a Strength mod 76, an armor class of 50, and have 400 hit points at level one. And his name is Saitama.”	Zach chuckled, "Wow, bro. That's messed up." I chuckled ruefully along with him. "Yeah, and then aunt Marge just started screaming to the point she turned red. Which of course just validated her dismissiveness." Zach nodded idly. "How's your dad?" "If anything, worse. At least you know where you stand with mom and her sister, but he just comes in and stares and you can just tell he wishes he'd never gotten involved with any of them." Zach took a deep breath. "Do you want to come home? I mean, you're just a regular human and we're… us… but I think we'd be a better family than what you're dealing with."
	[WP] Your elder brother is the demon king, your younger sister is the ArcAngel of light, your auntie is a army general of earth, your uncle is a demi-God, your mom is the queen of death and your father is the god of life. But you are a normal human who got adopted by the most dysfunctional family.	\--No You-- &#x200B; “If you dare Kill Jacob, I swear on all of the light in me you are finished Leo.” Lila growled, her face red. “I’m only sending a few demons to see if he might be chosen, if he isn’t, he’ll just think it was all a nightmare or something,” Leo shrugged back. “And if he is?” asked Lila. “Oh,” Leo beamed a wild grin to Lila, “Then he dies.” Lila pounced to Leo; her white jeans a zooming nimbus. From somewhere Aunt Betsy had emerged, she was decked in a general’s camouflage and her skin was tan from what I guessed to be the southern sun. “£2000 on Lila today hun, whatcha say?” Aunt Betsy loved one thing: underdog stories, family and money. Thus she only ever smiled when she won money betting on Lila pummelling Leo, a rare sight, yet she was always willing to bet against me. “All of Leo’s demons are in field so he can’t use any of their malignant energy, and Lila was elevated to an inner ArcAngel at the Holy Muse, I’ll give you two to one odds on Lila winning.” I had a fair amount of cash saved from working as Leo’s accountant but I didn’t want to risk paying out too much. Fwoosh! I twisted my head back to the fight. Leo was panting but grinning all the same. His clothes were shredded and skin somehow cased in stretches of soot. Even more covered the floor around him. Lila was floating, her wings abreast, her figure elegant. I noticed her eyes a holographic blue. How had she learnt it already? She was readying one of the tier II moves she was entrusted by the Holy Muse, moves reserved for inner disciples. It was meant to be used against only the vilest of criminals, those beyond darkness, beyond fixing. She really was going to kill Leo. What was she thinking? I heard a conspiratorial chuckle from Aunt Betsy on my left. I was going to lose the bet. White threads spread from Lila like a holy torrent. They dashed to Leo. Leo stayed still and smiling, calm and humoured as always. “I call forth the grand spell card: Noyu!” Had he just… Time bended, red streamed from all sides. My vision tilted and then all went to black. When I finally came to, my vision was groggy to focus. When it did there was the same scene as before, but Leo flighing high on black wings, taunting Lila, who was now caged by black threads. I started trying to mask my smugness, turning to claim my earnings from Aunt Betsy, but then came a loud harrowing crack. wisps of white and streams of red sputtered out from the black threads Leo was holding Lila with. Lila's cry's were muffled by the threads and Leo's grin grew wider. I panicked, he was going to kill her. If he killed her we'd all be grounded. I had to stop him. "Leo, stop!" he ignored me. "I'll tell Annabeth you stole her diary," Leo panicked, he got one of his minions to steal it, all to find out she had a crush on him. With this news it'd all be for nought, "I'll kill you Henry," Now it was my turn to laugh. Even god's have restrictions and Leo's ones were Mom and Dad. If he killed me, he'd be stuck in purgatory, between Mom and Dad for ages.	I live with my uncle Dan. As a second year college student, I'm still learning about life, death, sex, love, hygeine, and everything in-between. I thought I knew everything there was to know about these things because of my family, but I guess sometimes the collective epitome of something can be ignorant about even themselves. Oh yes, my family. When I was two weeks old I was adopted by the nicest couple. Beth and Steven weren't perfect, but they had a healthy relationship with each other, took good care of me and my siblings, and always did their best to teach us what they thought was right. Strangely, what's right for the queen of death and the god of life often conflict. Yes, those are my parents. Although Beth and Steven aren't their real names, they have both forgotten their original names the creator gave them long ago. Then there was my older brother and younger sister. Max, my older brother, is the current demon king, who has been reigning by election for the past 647 years (the government of the demon realm was very progressive back in it's day). My sister, Ava, is a newly birthed Archangel. While she is technically only two years, after one month she grew into a fully adult body, still giving her the mind of a child. Finally, there was Aunt Lucy and Uncle Dan. Aunt Lucy is a head general in the army of humans, a global military force that seeks to protect humans from dark magic, evil spirits, over vengeful angels and petty gods. Aunt Lucy was born with an extremely powerful affinity to magic. And finally, Uncle Dan is the only normal one. Aside from being a demigod. When I say he is the only normal one, I mean his life. He doesn't rule the land of the dead like mom, or use his energies from 9-5 like dad to create and sustain all life. Doesn't deal with politicians in the land of burning sulfur like Max, or try to figure out who to heal and smite every day like Ava. She's not the toughest son of a gun who's ever lived like Aunt Lucy. Nope. Uncle Dan was a professor of Archeology here in Northern Colorado. Sure, his hobby is finding monsters to slay, Giants to wrestle, gods to fight and demons to prank, but aside from that, he's ordinary. He dresses business casual, orders pizzas, and has a dalmation named Ramona. And really, that's the reason I moved out from my parents place and in with Uncle Dan. In a giant palace with entryways to the moms throne room in the underworld and dads board room in the celestial realm, things get intense. One time I couldn't find something mom asked me to look for, so I had to step through into her throne room real quick while she was conducting her business. If only the greatest problem the realm of the dead had was budget cuts. That's why I chose to stay my Uncle Dan. He's taught me a lot about life and is teaching me what I need to be independent. On the weekends we go to baseball games and sometimes he gives me dating advice when I'm lost in a situation with a girl I'm seeing or want to ask out. But the true main reason I moved in with him is because I can relate to him the most, because I'm only human. When you're surrounded by powerful, supernatural beings, you feel alone and kinda lost. Guess even eons old deities can't fill the void in their souls, or whatever they have, by having a kid.
	[WP] Your elder brother is the demon king, your younger sister is the ArcAngel of light, your auntie is a army general of earth, your uncle is a demi-God, your mom is the queen of death and your father is the god of life. But you are a normal human who got adopted by the most dysfunctional family.	“Every family has conflicts and problems” is one of those platitudes in life that’s true enough on its face, but leaves a hell of a lot of potential caveats, complications, and layers of added bullshit left unsaid and unexplored. For example, I was adopted into my family as a very distrustful and bitter 12 year old girl after bouncing around the foster system my entire life. "But plenty of people get adopted, and many when they’re older kids!" I hear the world cry out at me, trying to normalize my situation. Well, I was adopted by a family of gods, devils, and demigods. Is that a family dynamic anyone else has experienced? No? Okay great! I finally get to claim ownership of my one of a kind family drama! Through my unique upbringing, I learned that virtually every culture's mythologies were real, but they were far more intermixed (I might say ‘inbred’ in my more cynical moments) than you’d ever expect. Greek and Roman gods sometimes fell in love with Christian and Hindu gods and religious figures for example, and then they had kids and suddenly they had their own dysfunctional little family of interfaith gods and demigods. Some were far too broad and undefinable to worship. My dad for example was the All-Father of Life, and my mom was the Queen of Death. I once asked them how exactly they got together given their conflicting roles, they just smiled and replied, “We aren’t so different from you mortals in some ways. Sometimes… opposites just attract… like Mila Kunis and Macaulay Culkin!” They didn’t really convince me that they were just like some weird celebrity couple, but at least they tried to put it into human terms I might understand. I genuinely loved my mom and dad. Pops could be a little melodramatic and intense at times, but he was always there for me, told me bedtime stories every night and taught me to read... all the languages in existence. And look, I idolize my mom, she was a strong female role model who taught me to be tough yet open to my emotions. I want to be her in so very many ways… just not in terms of sucking the souls out of human beings and imprisoning those souls for all eternity in her realm of eternal damnation… other than that, there is so very much to admire about her! I’d been ‘away from home’ for about a year, living out in the mortal realm, trying to forge my own path. Our family reunion was being held in my mother’s domain this year. Hell, Hades, The Netherworld, call it whatever you want, it wasn’t exactly my dream vacation locale but I was expected to attend. It’s not that I didn’t want to go, I miss my family, but I had deep misgivings and concerns about the fights that inevitably arose when they gathered together. You think your Thanksgiving dinner featuring your crazy racist uncle Vinny and cult following cousin Shelia are tough? Try sitting down at the table for familial conversations featuring debates between the actual immortal beings representing life and death. &#x200B; I was the last of my family to arrive, but in my defense, travel to Hell wasn’t all that convenient to book from Illinois. By the time I entered the dining hall dozens of gods were already seated for dinner at a massive table. My mom, dad, brothers and sisters all rushed over to greet me warmly, but conversation and debate among the multitude of others already seated did not end because of my arrival. I sat down quietly and surveyed all the distant relatives I hadn’t seen in ages and had completely forgotten about. I was quickly reminded that some of the immortals at the massive table belonged to mythologies that humans hadn’t even thought up, or were too lame or obscure for them to worship. A good example was my great uncle Krampu, the god of feces and defecation. He had never attracted a single follower or worshiper and was a bit of a laughing stock in the godly community. No temple had ever been built in his name despite his role in literally 'regulating' the flow of human existence. He was the most insecure god I’ve ever met and right now he was in the middle of an endless rant at the dinner table, “...another temple built for a fertility goddess? No offense Aphrodite, you know I am fond of you, but REALLY? And the mortals in western Germany just erected a statue to a god of farming and agriculture, do they not know how vital my product is to producing healthy crops? Ungrateful bastards all of them! I should leave them constipated for eternity…” “SO JULIA,” my father’s earthshaking voice boomed, desperately trying to silence and shift the focus away from my craptastic uncle's endless complaints. “How are things faring in your new realm of Chicago?” “It’s… it’s okay I guess. The job I moved for is really great at least,” I answered, partially trying to deflect the question. “Something troubles you deep within your spirit, what is it, my beloved child?” he asked with tenderness. “It’s fine, just some stupid guy...” “HE HURT YOU?” my mother and father roared in a unified thunderous rage that rattled the entire room. “No, no no… nothing like that. I just really liked him, we dated for over two months, thought everything was going well… then he just disappeared. At first I feared he got lost hiking or something, but I just saw him on social media with another girl. He didn’t fall in a well or anything, he just ghosted me.” “So... he tricked you?” my brother Loki asked. “I know a thing or two about tricks dear sister, perhaps I could repay him tenfold with some tricks of my own?” I laughed, “That I might not mind actually! He deserves to taste a bit of his own medicine. I just need everyone around this table to promise not to like… hurl a thunderbolt at him… OR STEAL HIS SOUL BEFORE HIS APPOINTED TIME OF DEATH... I’M LOOKING AT YOU, MOTHER.” “Err, of course not, wouldn’t dream of it darling!” Mom said sheepishly as she closed the supernatural version of Google Earth she had opened in front of her and had already started using to track him down. “You know Julia, I heard Hercules is single again,” my love obsessed sister Aphrodite chimed in. “I think he’s half mortal? Or part mortal? Some silly crap like that, you two might have a lot in common! Maybe I can set you up?” Conversation briefly derailed into debating the merits and flaws of Hercules, but quickly circled back around to each of my family members wanting to hear about every aspect of my little human life in the year since I’d been away. No moment or detail was too mundane or too minor for them. For as much as they were always in disagreement about everything, they did agree on one thing... they sure did love their Julia, the mortal baby of the family. Sure they could be dysfunctional and destructive, in fact I was fairly sure their conflicts would eventually bring about Armageddon... but they were still my family and at the end of the day I was grateful they chose me to be a part of it. ___ r/Ryter	Satan stared intently into the sixteen year old boy’s face. The boy moved his eyes around awkwardly, then shifted his gaze. Then stared back. Satan remained motionless, eyes fixed on the boy. “So…” he started, after a long beat. “Dean, right?” “… huh… yes, sir.” “Dad…” Lilith started, with a sigh. “Can you please not…” “… what are your intentions with my daughter, Dean?” “Dad…” Lilith turned to her boyfriend. “Please. Let's just wait for Mom and the others to get here. You don’t have to –” “No, it’s okay,” Dean put a calming hand on his girlfriend’s shoulder. Then he turned to Satan. “Look, I know I’m human and you guys are demons and angels and Gods and all and that’s weird, and not many families here are accepting of that, but I –“ “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?” Dean got up in a sudden movement, alarmed by the ear- ripping cacophony of screams that suddenly filled the room, coming from downstairs somewhere. Satan didn’t move. “Don't worry, that’s just the Hall of Tortured Souls. They usually start pouring the giant fire wasps at ten.” He briefly glanced at his watch. “Guess they started early tonight.” Lilith rolled her eyes. “They didn’t start early, you asked them to –” “Don’t worry,” Satan interrupted, with a smile. “You get used to it, it's like background noise after a while.” “…. Pouring… pouring the giant fire wasps?” Dean asked. “It’s the first form of torture here in Hell, for the damned souls.” Satan paused, listening to the screams for a beat. "You know, the people that piss off Satan for one reason or another?" Satan paused, his eyes fixed on Dean. Lilith crossed her arms, annoyed. Satan continued. “Anyway. We put them in a room, cut a thousand holes in their bodies with rusty poisonous knifes and then we pour live giant fire wasps inside their bodies through the holes.” Dean turned a horrified look to Lilith. “I'm so sorry about this,” she said. “’Live giant fire wasps’ is not a sentence that should exist.” Dean replied, in a low voice. Lilith turned to her father. “Can we change the subject? Please? Dad? You're freaking him out.” Satan smiled at his daughter. “Of course, sweetie.” He turned to Dean. “So, Dean, what do you do for a living?” “I’m a software… engineer. I – I work developing apps and stuff.” “Oh. That’s interesting.” Satan smiled. “That’s what Lilith’s ex-boyfriend Kyle did.” “Oh. Really?” “… you know, before he cheated on her and I feasted on his soul.” “… what’s that now?” “Dad…” “Did he just say ‘feasted on his soul’?” “It’s just an expression, he didn’t literally feast on his soul.” Lilith said, quickly. “Oh, okay.” “Of course I didn't feast on the boy's soul," Satan said, chuckling. "That would be absurd." "Haha..." Dean laughed, nervously. "Yeah..." Satan leaned forward. "No, I just put his soul in a dark hermetically sealed room where every minute feels like a hundred thousand years and where the only sound he can hear are the ear-shattering, constant voices of the ones he love perpetually being tortured and murdered again and again for all eternity all the while being fed his own bowels every hour and getting his genitals ripped and reattached again and again constantly by vicious rabid dogs.” “Hm.” A heavy silence followed this words, and for a long time the only sound in the dining room was the screams of the tortured souls and the distant buzzing of giant fire wasps. Satan kept his eyes fixed on Dean the whole time. “So,” Dean said, after a beat. “Thanksgiving? You guys do anything special for Thanksgiving?” “You hurt her and I will beat you to death with your own limbs.” Satan said, keeping his eyes on Dean. "I will drink your soul with a straw. Do you hear me?" “Okay, I’m out,” Dean said, pushing his chair back and heading for the door. "Wait, Dean! I am so sorry about this,” Lilith said, getting up and following Dean. “Look, we’re done dude,” Dean said, turning to Lilith. “I like you, but… I just… you know… giant fire wasps and beating me to death with my own limbs is my limit, dude.” "No, he was just --" Dean turned and left and shut the door behind him. For a beat Lilith said nothing. Then she turned to her father. “Thanks a lot, dude!” Before Satan could reply the back door came open and Lilith’s mother, younger sister, aunt and uncle all walked in. “Hey, everyone. So! Where’s Lilith’s new human boyfriend?” They put aside their wings, halos and magical staffs and stepped into the room. Lilith’s mom paused, then turned. “Oh, crap. He met your father first, didn't he?” Lilith sighed. “Yeah, he did.” “How long did this one last?” “He made it a little bit further than the Kyle story.” “Who’s Kyle again?” The uncle chimed in: “That’s the guy being fed his own bowels every hour.” “Oh, right! How is he?” “Being fed his own bowels every hour.” “Right.” For a beat nobody talked. Then Satan got up. “Well, I’m ready for dinner.” “I hate you, Dad.” Downstairs, faint but constant, the desperate screams of souls getting live giant fire wasps poured inside their bodies filled the room, and Lilith sighed and figured she should probably get used to the fact that she'd die alone.
	[WP] Your elder brother is the demon king, your younger sister is the ArcAngel of light, your auntie is a army general of earth, your uncle is a demi-God, your mom is the queen of death and your father is the god of life. But you are a normal human who got adopted by the most dysfunctional family.	What's worse than being a part of a family that rarely gets along or sees eye-to-eye? Being the only member of that family who could truly be considered normal by traditional human standards. Older brothers can be hard on their younger siblings at times; it's like an unwritten code that says they have to torture you out of love. Now imagine having an older brother who's literal existence is geared towards torture, mischief, and evil. You think having the toilet flushed while your in the shower is shitty? My big bro can superheat the water in the pipes instantly, so my personal hygiene was low on my list of concerns when he was around. Of course, my little sister was always there to heal the burns and scorn my brother for his pranks. The shining star of the family, daddy's little girl, and, honestly, a thorn in my side. Look, I'm a normal guy, and puberty hit me just as hard as any other kid with access to the internet. I don't know if she could sense my debauchery, but she always had a way of bursting in on me at the wrong moment and lecturing me on how exercising the sin-of-self-pleasure ten times a day was a waste of perfectly good time to be spent otherwise. Mom, however, took some kind of sick pleasure from my ejaculations. No, not in a sexual way. The queen of death revels in any loss of life, and I guess knowing that her son was spewing millions of potential lives into a dirty sock every day made her proud of me in some strange way. She was usually praising my brother, so, hey, I'll take what I can get. My father, on the other hand, gave me somewhat of a reverse presentation of 'the talk' that I assume most teens get from their dad around that age. Condoms? Birth control? No, sir. Life is a blessing, and dear old dad made it clear that he couldn't wait for me to spread the glorious seed that he'd created in me (yes, I fucking know) and to have dozens of grandchildren running about the house—fast approaching their own coming of age and bringing of life. Living with those four could be, at times, seriously unbearable; when it got too difficult, when I was too overwhelmed, I would retreat to my auntie and uncle's house for a few days. Don't get me wrong, they aren't normal either; however, when you live with entities that are well beyond normal human life, a demi-God and military genius are close enough. My auntie was rarely home, always off overseeing some covert operation in a foreign land, but she always had great advice for me when she was present. Of course, that advice was often drawn up on a white board with codenames, contingent plans, and a Sun Tzu quote for inspiration, but I always appreciated the distraction. Lastly, my uncle H. He's always been the only person I've felt at ease around, even though he has the opposite effect on everyone else that's like me. Exercise was always his remedy for stress and frustration, and there's no better spotter in the gym than someone who could literally bench press the product of all the weights in the building. But most of all, he's always helped me see what really matters in life. "You're family is a pain in the ass," he would say as calmly as he curled my entire body. "I get it, living with anyone is hard, and our family isn't made up of just anyone. But they love you, and you love them." "Your brother, as mischievous as he may be, only picks on you because he knows you can take it. He can't help himself, it's his existences' duty to torture, and it helps him to know that he has a mortal he can torment who won't hate him for it." "Your sister, as preachy as she is, only wants what's best for you. She sees the light in you, your unimaginable potential, and she only helps to guide you to becoming the person you want to be some day." "Your mom, well, she's death. She can literally suck the life out of the room when she walks in, but I know that there's one death she's dreading; when your life finally extinguishes, by old age or catastrophe, the queen of death will truly abhor her own existence." "And your father is in the same boat. He will outlive you, and there will never be another you. Even the god of life couldn't create you exactly as you are, because the conditions of your development will always be different. You're one of a kind, as all mortals are, and he only wishes to hold on to some part of you through your offspring—however faint that remnant may be hundreds of years from now." "What about you, Uncle H?" I would say, often with tears in my eyes. "Will you miss me when I'm gone?" He would laugh, a mighty gut chuckle that melted my soul. "I'm a half-blood; I've always desired a pure, Godly existence, but having you as a nephew and your aunti in my life has made me love my mortal side in a way I never thought possible." I'd always end up back at home after a talk with my uncle, more than happy to see my dysfunctional family again. They may be a strange mix of heaven and hell, but they chose me, and I couldn't be luckier. /r/BeagleTales	Day 1: I did it. I finally stood up to my parents and told them how I felt! Mom was a weepy wreck of course. Dad on the other hand seemed to still be processing the fact that I was not in fact there to help him organize his garden shed when I dropped the bombshell. I think the only words he heard were “Hi dad” and “I’m leaving.” The whole soul baring session that occurred in between those words went in one ear and out the other. Anyhoo it’s as good a result as I could have hoped for, all things considered. Mom made a perfunctory effort to get me to stay, but otherwise my break from this screwed up family has been fairly clean. Then again it’s only been one day. Day 2: Sam called me. Son of a bitch. I should have known that he’d get my phone number. Probably one of his moles in the LAPD. What better organization for demons to infiltrate than the LAPD? Even the worst demons are better than some of the senior members of that police force. He was all hellfire and brimstone, of course. He threatened me with all kinds of torture. Promised that he would find my address, yadda yadda. Same old Samael. He told me that I was ungrateful and that I was blessed to have cosmic deities for a family. I told him to piss off. Day 4: No sign of Samael or his demons. That’s probably because the cargo van I live in doesn’t have an address and my PO Box is in Lucie’s name. Dad insisted all of his children take on human identities just in case we ever needed to lay low and blend in with the mortals. Lucie left her human documents with me, not caring much if I stole her identity. Not that I ever would, except to open a PO Box in her name so I can still get mail without alerting my brother as to my whereabouts. Day 7: Speaking of Lucie she found me today. No great surprise. The Angel of Light can see everything, and can detect auras like all of my siblings can. She probably scoured the US for people with my singularly unique aura. She came by and told me that I was the best mortal big brother ever and she was going to miss me. Of all the family I have I expected her to take my departure the best. It’s odd though, she’s a cosmic entity, the angel of light, infinitely old. Yet she calls me, a human mortal of thirty years, her big brother. I don’t get it. Day 14: Everything is fine. A bit lonely. But I’m happier than I’ve been in a while. I feel liberated that I no longer need to impress the unimpressable. Every day that I live outside of that house I realize how toxic that whole family is. I blame myself just as much. I am resentful, quick to anger, and prone to fits of sullen silence. My constant need to prove myself drove a wedge between me and my divine siblings and between me and my father who I could never impress. Then I realized that I should stop trying. My whole life I’ve been comparing myself to others, measuring myself based on their successes. It’s not healthy outlook, to be in constant competition and perpetual jealousy. I cannot compete with my family. My aunt, the supreme Allied Commander who still manages to make it to most Sunday dinners. My brother the king of Hell. My sister the angel of light. My parents, the dualistic images of life and death. And let’s not forget good old Uncle Bill who occasionally gets drunk and throws his car off of a bridge or smashes a cop car with a streetlight. I’ve dropped out of the race and now I plan on discovering who I really am. Day 27: Dad found me. My guess is he worked his mojo on Lucie. He’s always been a good manipulator. Lucie in particular is vulnerable to his sadistic machinations. I realize now why Sam chose to leave the house and rule over hell in person. He made a great show of it. Four in the morning, foggy. I’m awake since I’m more or less nocturnal these days. I was sitting outside my van in the halo of a streetlight in a turnout up in the Hollywood hills. I think I ruined his plan of waking me up with his performance, why else would he choose such an obtuse hour to come call? He did the whole Old Testament shebang of lightning and thunder, a deep seated sense of existential dread, a black could descending from the heavens, all that. Dad emerged from the cloud outside my van to find me in my lawn chair sipping tea and typing on my lap top. I barely looked up from my work during the performance. “Son.” He said to me. “God.” I replied. “We want you to come home.” He said. “I am home.” I said. He scoffed. “Your home is the palace. It always was. This act of rebellion has gone on long enough. How long are you going to torment your mother?” “My mother hasn’t felt a real emotion in a thousand years. I see right through all of her performances, just as I see through yours.” I said. Lightning crackled around him. “Mind your tongue boy.” “Or what?” I asked. “I’ll make you wish you had.” “Good old dad. Tell me, dad, once and for all. Why?” I asked. “Why what?” “Why did you adopt me?” “I already told you-“ “-yes that my biological mother left me on the palace porch and mother took me in. What a crock of shit. Tell me the truth.” I said. “Have you ever wondered why your aura is pure white?” He asked. “I always assumed it was a consequence of a mortal living with Gods.” I said. “No. Your aura was as brilliantly white as Lucie’s prom dress from the moment you were born.” He said. “So you took me in, to see what it meant?” I asked. “Yes. And I must say it’s been a disappointment. I thought maybe you were a new divine, come into existence. Or maybe that you were special in some way. I wanted to see for myself.” He said. “But I’m not special.” “Yes that became abundantly obvious quickly. But by the time we realized that Lucie fell in love with you. So I decided that I wanted your siblings to experience humanity first hand. I wanted them to live with a human, call him brother. I mostly kept you for Samael’s sake, I wanted to see if you could turn him from his hatred of humans.” Dad answered. “I failed.” “No, you did not. Samael wanted to overrun the earth with his demons until you grew up with us. Now he holds his legions of hell back because he knows the world has people like you in it.” I was touched. But I hardened myself to it. “But dad, I’m not like you. I don’t have phenomenal powers. I don’t have the wisdom of a hundred learned scholars. I’m just Dave. I can’t live in a family full of Gods. It’s not right, it’s not natural. I can’t live with your disappointment any longer.” God stroked his magnificent beard. “Perhaps you are right. Fine. I’ll tolerate this insistence on independence for now. But please do Lucie the kindness of coming to Sunday dinner. I’ll make sure Samael doesn’t kill you.” With that God/Dad vanished, deciding to forego the performance. Day 54: Lucie almost killed me today. She swung a Prius at me, missing by inches. She thought I was an imposter. After apologizing profusely she told me that my Aura had turned a shade of yellow. Since she mostly sees in the astral plane she thought I was an intruder disguised as her brother. I don’t blame her, Auras are as unique as fingerprints. It would freak me out too. I’ve been peppered with questions ever since. Every thing I’ve done for the past month has been meticulously combed over. The only thing of consequence I’ve done was volunteer at a charity drive for a child with cancer. I’d met her mother at a coffee shop and we’ve just started dating. Poor thing. Working full time and caring for a sick daughter. I helped run a fundraiser for her last week. Other than that I’ve sat in my van, drove around LA s bit, and worked on my next novel. So whatever caused my aura to change we don’t know. We will find out. Day 60: Remember that girl with cancer I mentioned? Her name is Emily. She had stage three brain cancer of a hard to treat variety. Sweet girl. I am fond of both her and her mother. Notice I said had. She had cancer. Not anymore. She has been cured in a sudden reversal that her doctors are calling a miracle. One day she had cancer, the next she did not. I have realized something. I’ve only physically touched her once. It was a hug she gave me at the fundraiser. The next week my aura was yellow and the week following she was cured of her cancer. For all I know my aura turned yellow the moment she hugged me and her cancer was cured on the spot but these respective changes weren’t discovered until now. We’re going out to celebrate. Maybe I’ll bring my family,
	[WP] Your elder brother is the demon king, your younger sister is the ArcAngel of light, your auntie is a army general of earth, your uncle is a demi-God, your mom is the queen of death and your father is the god of life. But you are a normal human who got adopted by the most dysfunctional family.	There I was, a table filled with a different kind of foods, desserts. And then there was us, the family, enjoying it. Or at least that’s how it should be. That’s how I wish it would be. But I’m happy with what I got. I used to be orphan, having nobody. At the orphanage, I kept up this fake smile with everyone, even if we hated each other, trying to beat each other at finding a foster home. Till this day, I’m not sure if I hit jackpot or the other way around. But I can say without a second thought; there’s nothing worse than being alone. However, this could be a close second. “Emma, stop purifying the bread!” I said it out loud, as Emma - who happened to be Archangel of Light) kept praying while holding the bread. “Why not?” she asked. “It’s just normal bread. Stop bringing your work home!” “Yeah. You need to be careful what you bread around,” Jack said. Emma stood up, looking at him. “You’re a demon! You’re a demon brother! Pure evil! You need purification!” raising her fork up in the sky. “Let me tell you a story about my care cup. It’s empty! I… don’t… care!” “Both of you!” I shouted. “Jack! One day you’re gonna reap what you’re sowing. At least try to get along!” I said as I looked at Jack. I turned sharply 180 degrees and looked at my step-sister. “And Emma, stop saying such great things about your brother!” “Yeah!” Jack shouted, sneezing in process. “Bless you,” Emma said without a second thought. “Argh!” Jack made a crucifying sound. “Emma!” “What? It’s not my fault he’s so evil~!” I facepalmed, just to get suddenly wrestled by my auntie. “You’re doing great. They’re assets, and you’ll put them into great use! You’re already showing dominance. They’re listening to you!” “Auntie, stop. I can’t breathe!” I murmured, hitting her thighs as a sign of surrender. “Hah. You’ll get stronger. One day you’ll take over my duties, and be even greater general as I’ve ever been!” I frowned. “First you conquer heaven and hell before you let me take over!” Auntie began laughing out loud. “I’ve taught you well, boy!” she took out a smoke and began walking away, raising her hand as a goodbye. I finally looked at my mom and dad, who were eating peacefully. If only they could take care of their children instead of me. It has been always me. Always. “Darling, our anniversary is coming,” my mom said. “Will we finally ask those foolish humans to sacrifice animals again?” “Hope,” my father said, shaking his head. “We should get another baby!” “What?” Hope said, eyebrows raising. “Another? We adopted one recently. Wasn’t that enough?” I do have to note here that her recently was over a ten years ago. Dango looked at me for a moment, eyes full of apology. “But that’s not creating life. We should create more life.” “It’ll take an eternity before they die! This one will die sooner!” She said, looking at me. “No offense, darling.” “None taken,” I responded, sighing. You do get used to things such as those. “Darling. You’re always looking at the end. You should look at the new beginnings!” “I can’t. I’m Queen of Death!” Dango frowned. “Hope. Please. We can’t do this again.” I coughed. Both of them looked at me. “How about, for starters, we… eat?” I motioned my hands forward. The table was still filled with food, mostly untouched. “You’re right, darling. We should just eat,” mom said quickly, happy to avoid the topic. My dad sighed but followed with a nod as well. After a while, I stood up, walking to my father. “Dad, got a sec?” “Sure, what’s up?” he turned to face me. “My tomatoes finally started to grow!” I whispered. My father’s eyes blinked for a moment, suddenly filling with excitement. “A new life! That’s fantastic.” “Shhh,” I hissed. “We don’t want mom to know.” “Oh. Yeah. You’re right... You’re right! I’ll check your room later, alright?” “Yes!” I said, nodding. Almost as it was nothing, I walked past my father and stopping next to my mom, giving her cheek a quick kiss. “Our neighbors’ dog is pissing into our garden again, killing all that great green grass near the statue,” I said. Mom grinned. “Excellent,” she said, mood rising slightly. As I walked back towards my seat, I saw my brother and sister fighting again. Or at least it seemed like that first. “I love you! So stop being such an ass!” Emma said. “I hate you! But I might have some time to check that movie out with you.” “Cool. Tomorrow?” “Fuck you,” Jack said, looking away. It’s a weird family. I never expected anything like that. But I still love them. And nothing could be worse, than being alone. (/r/Elven <- my writing)	Day 1: I did it. I finally stood up to my parents and told them how I felt! Mom was a weepy wreck of course. Dad on the other hand seemed to still be processing the fact that I was not in fact there to help him organize his garden shed when I dropped the bombshell. I think the only words he heard were “Hi dad” and “I’m leaving.” The whole soul baring session that occurred in between those words went in one ear and out the other. Anyhoo it’s as good a result as I could have hoped for, all things considered. Mom made a perfunctory effort to get me to stay, but otherwise my break from this screwed up family has been fairly clean. Then again it’s only been one day. Day 2: Sam called me. Son of a bitch. I should have known that he’d get my phone number. Probably one of his moles in the LAPD. What better organization for demons to infiltrate than the LAPD? Even the worst demons are better than some of the senior members of that police force. He was all hellfire and brimstone, of course. He threatened me with all kinds of torture. Promised that he would find my address, yadda yadda. Same old Samael. He told me that I was ungrateful and that I was blessed to have cosmic deities for a family. I told him to piss off. Day 4: No sign of Samael or his demons. That’s probably because the cargo van I live in doesn’t have an address and my PO Box is in Lucie’s name. Dad insisted all of his children take on human identities just in case we ever needed to lay low and blend in with the mortals. Lucie left her human documents with me, not caring much if I stole her identity. Not that I ever would, except to open a PO Box in her name so I can still get mail without alerting my brother as to my whereabouts. Day 7: Speaking of Lucie she found me today. No great surprise. The Angel of Light can see everything, and can detect auras like all of my siblings can. She probably scoured the US for people with my singularly unique aura. She came by and told me that I was the best mortal big brother ever and she was going to miss me. Of all the family I have I expected her to take my departure the best. It’s odd though, she’s a cosmic entity, the angel of light, infinitely old. Yet she calls me, a human mortal of thirty years, her big brother. I don’t get it. Day 14: Everything is fine. A bit lonely. But I’m happier than I’ve been in a while. I feel liberated that I no longer need to impress the unimpressable. Every day that I live outside of that house I realize how toxic that whole family is. I blame myself just as much. I am resentful, quick to anger, and prone to fits of sullen silence. My constant need to prove myself drove a wedge between me and my divine siblings and between me and my father who I could never impress. Then I realized that I should stop trying. My whole life I’ve been comparing myself to others, measuring myself based on their successes. It’s not healthy outlook, to be in constant competition and perpetual jealousy. I cannot compete with my family. My aunt, the supreme Allied Commander who still manages to make it to most Sunday dinners. My brother the king of Hell. My sister the angel of light. My parents, the dualistic images of life and death. And let’s not forget good old Uncle Bill who occasionally gets drunk and throws his car off of a bridge or smashes a cop car with a streetlight. I’ve dropped out of the race and now I plan on discovering who I really am. Day 27: Dad found me. My guess is he worked his mojo on Lucie. He’s always been a good manipulator. Lucie in particular is vulnerable to his sadistic machinations. I realize now why Sam chose to leave the house and rule over hell in person. He made a great show of it. Four in the morning, foggy. I’m awake since I’m more or less nocturnal these days. I was sitting outside my van in the halo of a streetlight in a turnout up in the Hollywood hills. I think I ruined his plan of waking me up with his performance, why else would he choose such an obtuse hour to come call? He did the whole Old Testament shebang of lightning and thunder, a deep seated sense of existential dread, a black could descending from the heavens, all that. Dad emerged from the cloud outside my van to find me in my lawn chair sipping tea and typing on my lap top. I barely looked up from my work during the performance. “Son.” He said to me. “God.” I replied. “We want you to come home.” He said. “I am home.” I said. He scoffed. “Your home is the palace. It always was. This act of rebellion has gone on long enough. How long are you going to torment your mother?” “My mother hasn’t felt a real emotion in a thousand years. I see right through all of her performances, just as I see through yours.” I said. Lightning crackled around him. “Mind your tongue boy.” “Or what?” I asked. “I’ll make you wish you had.” “Good old dad. Tell me, dad, once and for all. Why?” I asked. “Why what?” “Why did you adopt me?” “I already told you-“ “-yes that my biological mother left me on the palace porch and mother took me in. What a crock of shit. Tell me the truth.” I said. “Have you ever wondered why your aura is pure white?” He asked. “I always assumed it was a consequence of a mortal living with Gods.” I said. “No. Your aura was as brilliantly white as Lucie’s prom dress from the moment you were born.” He said. “So you took me in, to see what it meant?” I asked. “Yes. And I must say it’s been a disappointment. I thought maybe you were a new divine, come into existence. Or maybe that you were special in some way. I wanted to see for myself.” He said. “But I’m not special.” “Yes that became abundantly obvious quickly. But by the time we realized that Lucie fell in love with you. So I decided that I wanted your siblings to experience humanity first hand. I wanted them to live with a human, call him brother. I mostly kept you for Samael’s sake, I wanted to see if you could turn him from his hatred of humans.” Dad answered. “I failed.” “No, you did not. Samael wanted to overrun the earth with his demons until you grew up with us. Now he holds his legions of hell back because he knows the world has people like you in it.” I was touched. But I hardened myself to it. “But dad, I’m not like you. I don’t have phenomenal powers. I don’t have the wisdom of a hundred learned scholars. I’m just Dave. I can’t live in a family full of Gods. It’s not right, it’s not natural. I can’t live with your disappointment any longer.” God stroked his magnificent beard. “Perhaps you are right. Fine. I’ll tolerate this insistence on independence for now. But please do Lucie the kindness of coming to Sunday dinner. I’ll make sure Samael doesn’t kill you.” With that God/Dad vanished, deciding to forego the performance. Day 54: Lucie almost killed me today. She swung a Prius at me, missing by inches. She thought I was an imposter. After apologizing profusely she told me that my Aura had turned a shade of yellow. Since she mostly sees in the astral plane she thought I was an intruder disguised as her brother. I don’t blame her, Auras are as unique as fingerprints. It would freak me out too. I’ve been peppered with questions ever since. Every thing I’ve done for the past month has been meticulously combed over. The only thing of consequence I’ve done was volunteer at a charity drive for a child with cancer. I’d met her mother at a coffee shop and we’ve just started dating. Poor thing. Working full time and caring for a sick daughter. I helped run a fundraiser for her last week. Other than that I’ve sat in my van, drove around LA s bit, and worked on my next novel. So whatever caused my aura to change we don’t know. We will find out. Day 60: Remember that girl with cancer I mentioned? Her name is Emily. She had stage three brain cancer of a hard to treat variety. Sweet girl. I am fond of both her and her mother. Notice I said had. She had cancer. Not anymore. She has been cured in a sudden reversal that her doctors are calling a miracle. One day she had cancer, the next she did not. I have realized something. I’ve only physically touched her once. It was a hug she gave me at the fundraiser. The next week my aura was yellow and the week following she was cured of her cancer. For all I know my aura turned yellow the moment she hugged me and her cancer was cured on the spot but these respective changes weren’t discovered until now. We’re going out to celebrate. Maybe I’ll bring my family,
	[WP] Humans are new on the galactic stage. The reigning champion in an MMA style fighting ring uses telepathy to predict his opponents movements,but humans have something never seen or heard of before. Muscle memory.	"Calm down, son. You'll do great. You got this far." "yeah, but... Telepath? How am I supposed to win if they can literally know my move before I make them?" Darren's mind was in turmoil how can he beat such a threat? The semifinals of the Unarmed Combat event in the Intergalactic Games was minutes away. As a new species on the universal stage, humans had not been expected to do too well, but they had already proved capable at the marksmanship and agility contests. But this was the closest they had gotten to a trophy. Darren's next opponent was a Trybtan, a mantis-like creature, with incredibly fast strikes and a capability to read electrical pulses in the brain. For the first time in the event, Darren was worried. He had seen other mammalian contestants taken off in medical pods - this opponent had a reputation for being vicious. As the Countdown timer ticked down, Darren's platform began to rise. His coach checked his wrist straps once more, then said a last word of good luck before hopping down off the slowly ascending piece of stage. Surfacing from below, the intense lighting temporarily blinded him. Blinking away the afterimage, he saw his opponent. His first thought was 'oh shit, he's bigger than I thought' followed by 'how do I beat this thing?' The announcer was saying something, but Darren didn't register it. He was still nervous, but the anticipation of the starting klaxon dulled the roar of the crowd, gave him time to clear his mind of doubt. He was a fighter. He'd gotten out of tough scraps before. This was no different. He just had to find a way to win before he got broken in half. Across the ring, Kr'nakt, the Trybtan, momentarily paused her confident chittering. She had noticed the Human's mind change rhythm. It was more confident now? Was there something it knew that she didn't? Then the thought patterns came back, more controlled now. It was trying to strategize. Cute. The countdown timer was nearly up. Darren could hear the crowd counting the seconds to the klaxon, and he focused, holding up his beginning stance. 5. Don't charge straight in, It'll sense it before you start running. It'll have time to prepare. 4. Stay calm. You can't stop it reading your mind but you can stop it hearing anything unnecessary. 3. Play reactive. It will have a counter ready for everything and know when you are feinting. 2. OK, keep calm, let it come to you. 1. Ready. The Klaxon blared twice, and the Trybtan charged. Darren dived left instinctively, and a good job he had. Milliseconds after leaving his original space, it was torn through by a pair of razor-sharp pincers. Both combatants looked at each other in surprise. How had the human avoided that? That was usually the finishing blow. Kr'nakt hissed. She always was able to read which way they'd dodge. Did she miss it? The human took a strike at her side but she used a carapaced leg to block. she turned to strike again. This time, she would make sure she didn't miss. The second time, Darren had less warning. He dodged as fast as he could, but the bladed pincer caught his arm.instintively, he grabbed hold of the pincer, and twisted, maneuvering behind the creature while doing so. WHAT? HOW-AAARGH! Kr'nakt's mind screamed in agony as its forelimb was pulled back too far. Furious, she kicked out, tripping the human, then bodily flung him across the ring. It hit a cornerpost and crumpled, arm grasping it's bleeding shoulder. Her shoulder had also been weakened, so she waited, gathering her strength. Fuck. That hurt. Darren's vision blurred, then refocused. The Trybtan was hanging back, hissing. Darren guessed it was wary now. He didn't understand exactly how he was getting an upper hand, but he had an idea. His reflexes must be too fast for the creature to read, on account of the amount of times he'd practiced freeform combat with his teacher. He stood up, and heard the crowd roar in excitement. The next few seconds of combat passed slowly, both participants wary, waiting on the other to move. Kr'nakt threw out a few probing jabs: Darren blocked or dodged but did not get an opportunity to do more, as the punches were pulled back as soon as they failed to land. They were at a stalemate. Even though Kr'nakt had not had a fight this long since Tharur retired, she was still confident. Any attack he could muster would have telltale signs, so she could always prepare a reaction. She was happy to let the timer run down, but she would have to make a move eventually. But this human needed to do so first: if neither combatant was down after 10 minutes, then the higher ranked fighter would progress onward. Darren knew he had to act. He had to find a way around the creature's telepathy. Then he had an idea. Kr'nakt noticed a flurry of brain signal, then the human mind went quiet again. The human had half dropped its guard, and was slowly walking forwards. Kr'nakt threw an experimental jab. The human deflected it, and kept walking. WHAT WAS IT DOING? WHY IS IT NOT FIGHTING? Darren kept his mind as blank as he could, relying on his reflexes to block the strikes from the creature. Step. Step. Block. Step. He kept going, until he was close enough to touch the creature. TOO CLOSE, HUMAN. The pincers struck down, faster than they had before, targeted on piercing both shoulders. The human saw then, and turned. The limbs missed by a hair. Still registering little brain function, she saw it grab a pincer and vault up. She moved to throw it off but it jumped to her shoulders, pummelling and thrashing. Its mind was active now, but it was too late. Her only defence from behind was her thick carapace, but some of the blows were finding gaps, she stumbled, tried to roll but another blow stunned her. She raised a pincer, signalling surrender. The klaxon blared again. It was over. He'd won. He stepped back from his opponent, allowed her to regain her feet, then bowed to her. Surprisingly, the Trybtan attempted to return, the gesture, although it seemed a little comical. The message was clear though: Humans had earned their respect this day.	With every gallant fighter that the tiny blue planet had to offer defeated, it was obvious that the uproaring overlords would soon take over the planet as their trophy; every breathing soul, their slave. The challenger banged his fists on his sweaty breasts as he coaxed the hosts, to send him someone who would test his limits. He had faced hundreds tonight and not a single fighter had managed to land a punch on him. He was brutal, he was reckless, but most importantly he was proud of his might and tonight he was taking no prisoners. The officials were trying their best to prolong the inevitable as desperate eyes in the arena searched for a beacon of hope,who would defeat this atrocity, that stood glistening; in the once white but now a resplendent red ring, too much blood had spilt today and all of it in vain. The janitor loaded the latest victim on his trolley, as his fearful eyes gazed the monster in the ring. To keep the match even, he had taken the form of the dominant species on this planet, Homo Sapien, and while the hunger,greed, lust and recklesslness in his eyes would have fooled any body about his origins... It was the blood lust of a maniac that foreshadowed his face, which gave away his origin. He smirked, at the man who looked terrible, carrying the lifeless remains of so many of his kind to a dumpster at the back, hoping their deaths were not all in vain. The janitor held back all his feelings and subdued his thoughts as he mopped the last shreds of the body of the floor. He was distraught and would have retaliated long back but for the challenger who stood provocating the masses, afterall how do you attack someone who telepathically predicts your next move and crushes you before your thought would reach your limbs. He sighed and pushed the trolley through a boulevard of hopeless spectators and would soon reach the door that closed this onslaught on him, till he was to be summoned again. The neon timepiece above the ring, now a ticking doomsday clock ticked towards the inevitable, the loss of what billions called their home. There was a movement at the officials table. One of the rose and wiped his face. It was time to announce the challenger's Victory ;over an entire planet. When suddenly there was a movement at the hosts entrance to the arena. The official held himself as all the teary and hopefully eyes looked towards the silhouette standing in the bright focus of the arena lights. They all looked desperate, they all looked human. The silhouette walked slowly towards the ring. The doomsday clock reset. Earth had another defender. The lights slowly started to dim as his form slowly began to appear. The challenger grinned to the thought of beating another bag of meat and cracked his muscles in agreement. The host ran to this mystery man and asked for his name.. He was satisfied with the low murmur that came from the mouth of this sentient looking being. Dressed in yellow with a white cape and red gumboots, our hero neared the ring as the speakers gave a sharp shrill to announce. It was at this moment that he slipped and fell face down into the pool of blood. The crowd went quiet at the site of this but roared when the name was announced, Saitama. He cooly wiped his face of a white flag throw to him by a spectator and walked into the ring. The referee briefed the fighters and moved a step back. The challenger's eyes grew blue like the planet he was going to win. His battle mode was on. His telepathy was ready to read his opponents move. He took a step back, he saw a punch coming at him and total darkness. He couldn't go past the image so he readied himself for impact of the petty human that stood in front of him. The bell rang, the referee jumped back further,the crowd was surprised at the challenger covering his chest of all the places. Saitama tightened his left fist and dragging his left foot back... Launched a punch towards the challenger... There was a moment of silence as the other half of the ring seemed soiled... It was blood but it wasn't red. It was green. The challenger looked at the hole where his heart was... and understood his vision... He fell down and exploded like a balloon as the crowd roared in unison, the steam from the blood was Melting and burning the rubber and metal of the mat and in that masked smoke... Our hero left the arena...
	[WP] Humans are new on the galactic stage. The reigning champion in an MMA style fighting ring uses telepathy to predict his opponents movements,but humans have something never seen or heard of before. Muscle memory.	We did it! We found him.... The dumbest motherfucker on planet earth. It is the year 3027 and humans have become a space fairing nation. The first land mark was humans landing on Mars in 2025. Thanks Elon! Then came the great terraforming race. Trillion dollar company states, fighting for a monopoly over what would be the primary terraforming technology in the world. Naturally this lead to world war 4 in 2085, after the company state of Amazonia accused Googletopia of stealing crucial terraforming technology secrets. The second nuclear winter then ensued. 2093 earth had rebuilt and soon we were traveling the cosmos. Humanity was on top living beyond that wet peace of rock we call home. In the year 3000 however, we learnt that we were not alone. Nor were we as advanced as we thought we are. 3007 Earth was unified into one planet state in order to gain membership into the Galactic union. 3011 our membership was accepted. However, earth found itself at the bottom of the food chain, the laughing stock of all the other members planets. The wipping boys ridiculed by all, respected by none. And can you blame them ! The Varitians 5 year old do advance calculus in their Primary Schools, the Parthians measure their 100 meter races in mila seconds and the Dickians (don't laugh) have perfected cold fusion. For years we humans thought us the center of the universe, the most advanced organisms ever to evolve. Only to find that we are the bottom feeders in the food chain. 3024 we had come up with a plan to gain earth and the human race some respect. We were gonna host and win the intergalactic MMA universe cup. In this time the most popular sport through out the universe is intergalactic MMA. Now due to the fact that all member planets in the union are intellectually advance species, the physical differences between species is negligible. Except for one trait, the Varitians have telecopathy. And it is because of this that they have been the champions for the past 5 intergalactic MMA universe cup. But we had a plan to beat them this time, now the Varitians telepathy works on a code deciphering probability calculater which decode neural synapses. In order to work it needs information. In order to work well it needs good information. So what we needed was a dumbass, a dumbass that can fight. 3025 our search had began. Earth had successfully won the chance to host the next universe cup. We had 2 years to find an idiot who could fight or find an idiot and teach them how to fight. The former stratergy had failed, all of earths elite, mid tire and rookie fighter did not meet the sub 4.5 score needed on the Trump scale. So we had to find a dumbass and turn them into an elite fighter. Our top mathematicians had created a multivariable algorithm to help us find our idiot. Creating a giant Venn diagram, looking for an over lap between flat earthers (we travel galaxies for fuck sake ), antivaxers, people who say literally when they mean figuratively and more. Eventually, we found our idiot. His name... His name was Jeff. For 2 years we have been training Jeff to become a master of all forms of combat. He was reluctant at first until we offered him tickets to Disney world. This kicked off 2 years of gruelling work, 10 hours a day, for 6 days a week. Utilising the worlds best dietitian. The best healing and recovery team. Triple black belt masters trainers for all forms of martial arts. Millions were poured into this kid and he got good. Lightning fast reflexes. Brilliant hand speed. A great standing and ground game. And more importantly his mind was unreadable by even the smartest of Varitians. He is a killer. Thicker than a bag of fleeb doop, but a killer none the less. All that hard work now leads us all to here. Tomorrow the biggest tournament in earths history will commence. Tomorrow we gain our stop amoungst the elite species of the universe. Tomorrow our place at the top... knock knock ( Not now general Blint! I must complete this video log before our historic achievment is begins) (Wait what !) (He died ?) (The fuck ! How did that happen?) (Fucken measles ! Fuuuuucccckkk)	With every gallant fighter that the tiny blue planet had to offer defeated, it was obvious that the uproaring overlords would soon take over the planet as their trophy; every breathing soul, their slave. The challenger banged his fists on his sweaty breasts as he coaxed the hosts, to send him someone who would test his limits. He had faced hundreds tonight and not a single fighter had managed to land a punch on him. He was brutal, he was reckless, but most importantly he was proud of his might and tonight he was taking no prisoners. The officials were trying their best to prolong the inevitable as desperate eyes in the arena searched for a beacon of hope,who would defeat this atrocity, that stood glistening; in the once white but now a resplendent red ring, too much blood had spilt today and all of it in vain. The janitor loaded the latest victim on his trolley, as his fearful eyes gazed the monster in the ring. To keep the match even, he had taken the form of the dominant species on this planet, Homo Sapien, and while the hunger,greed, lust and recklesslness in his eyes would have fooled any body about his origins... It was the blood lust of a maniac that foreshadowed his face, which gave away his origin. He smirked, at the man who looked terrible, carrying the lifeless remains of so many of his kind to a dumpster at the back, hoping their deaths were not all in vain. The janitor held back all his feelings and subdued his thoughts as he mopped the last shreds of the body of the floor. He was distraught and would have retaliated long back but for the challenger who stood provocating the masses, afterall how do you attack someone who telepathically predicts your next move and crushes you before your thought would reach your limbs. He sighed and pushed the trolley through a boulevard of hopeless spectators and would soon reach the door that closed this onslaught on him, till he was to be summoned again. The neon timepiece above the ring, now a ticking doomsday clock ticked towards the inevitable, the loss of what billions called their home. There was a movement at the officials table. One of the rose and wiped his face. It was time to announce the challenger's Victory ;over an entire planet. When suddenly there was a movement at the hosts entrance to the arena. The official held himself as all the teary and hopefully eyes looked towards the silhouette standing in the bright focus of the arena lights. They all looked desperate, they all looked human. The silhouette walked slowly towards the ring. The doomsday clock reset. Earth had another defender. The lights slowly started to dim as his form slowly began to appear. The challenger grinned to the thought of beating another bag of meat and cracked his muscles in agreement. The host ran to this mystery man and asked for his name.. He was satisfied with the low murmur that came from the mouth of this sentient looking being. Dressed in yellow with a white cape and red gumboots, our hero neared the ring as the speakers gave a sharp shrill to announce. It was at this moment that he slipped and fell face down into the pool of blood. The crowd went quiet at the site of this but roared when the name was announced, Saitama. He cooly wiped his face of a white flag throw to him by a spectator and walked into the ring. The referee briefed the fighters and moved a step back. The challenger's eyes grew blue like the planet he was going to win. His battle mode was on. His telepathy was ready to read his opponents move. He took a step back, he saw a punch coming at him and total darkness. He couldn't go past the image so he readied himself for impact of the petty human that stood in front of him. The bell rang, the referee jumped back further,the crowd was surprised at the challenger covering his chest of all the places. Saitama tightened his left fist and dragging his left foot back... Launched a punch towards the challenger... There was a moment of silence as the other half of the ring seemed soiled... It was blood but it wasn't red. It was green. The challenger looked at the hole where his heart was... and understood his vision... He fell down and exploded like a balloon as the crowd roared in unison, the steam from the blood was Melting and burning the rubber and metal of the mat and in that masked smoke... Our hero left the arena...
	[WP] Humans are new on the galactic stage. The reigning champion in an MMA style fighting ring uses telepathy to predict his opponents movements,but humans have something never seen or heard of before. Muscle memory.	Zollan almost didn't want to use his telepathy against this human. It felt like fighting against a child: a single harsh tap with a finger could probably kill them. His opponent was a woman, barely in her twentieth-fifth cycle. She was short like a child, thin around the waist and breasts, and her face was so lean her cheek bones stuck out. Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and though she the reigning champion of Earth, Zollan found her to be cute- like a puppy. As Zollan watched her across the ring, he wondered what she was thinking about. Zollan's antennae flexed. Almost immediately the girl's thoughts came through his head. -popular! I'll help you to be popular! You'll hang with the right cohorts, you'll be good at sports, know the slang you've got to know- Instead of focusing on the match, the damn girl was singing to herself. It was laughable how easy this match was going to be. Zollan stood up, cracked the bones in his neck, and came to the middle of the ring. The girl did the same, still mentally singing that damn song. Upon seeing his height, the girl startled, and her next thought had Zollan smirking. Wow... he's much bigger when he's standing up... The referee held up his hand. The two opponents got into a fighting stance. "Fight!" Zollan's antennae flexed again. The girl was no longer singing, but thinking and strategizing on how to take down this behemoth of an alien. Her thoughts were a frenzy, one sentence quickly followed by another, making it almost hard to understand. Zollan was still able to make out what she planned to do first. First I'm going to kick him in the chest! Zollan purposely dropped his guard. Seeing this, the girl twisted, brought up her leg to ram it into his ribs. Before she could make contact, Zollan caught her foot, intending to throw her off balance- WHAM! The girl's other foot slammed him against the face. The move stunned him and he let go of the girl's foot, stumbling back. What the-? She had used his grip like a springboard to lift herself up to kick him! She wasn't thinking that beforehand! Damn it, Zollan must've missed that thought. He needed to focus. Shaking off the hit, he got in close, his eyes narrowing in concentration. I'm going to punch him on the right. Zollan threw out his right fist intending to catch the girl. She ducked underneath his arm, slamming her knee into his gut. Zollan gasped. "Damn you!" He bit out, bringing down his arm to crush her. The girl saw the arm and her panicked thought brought great pleasure to Zollan. Oh shit, I'm gonna die! She ducked out of the way, Zollan's arm barely grazing her hair, and then she was back up again, her fists pounding against his face. At one point he grabbed her arm, holding tight. He was going to snap this arm like dry wood- The girl didn't think. There was nothing but silence in her mind as she suddenly kicked him in the back of the knee, collapsing his leg, and when he fell, she easily broke out of his grip like it was second nature. There was a loud resounding CRACK as the girl's elbow connected to his face. Blood filled Zollan's mouth and he knew immediately she had broken his nasal cavity and two of his front teeth. All the while her thoughts were still silent. For the first time in Zollan's career, he was scared. He's never met an opponent who could block his telepathy before. What else could humans do? What else could the girl do to him? The pain was disorienting him and as he lifted his tear-filled eyes to the girl, he saw she backed away. Oh man, is he crying? Shit, I hope I didn't hurt him too badly. I thought he'd be better than this. The humiliation was too much. With a groan, Zollan lifted his arm, signaling the end of the match. All around him the audience screamed with equal amounts of glee and disappointment. Zollan had lost, and he barely fought for five minutes. As the defeated Zollan walked off the ring, a towel around his mouth to stem the bleeding, he decided to listen in to the girl's thoughts one last time. He looked back at the new champion of the galaxy. She was currently holding up the golden belt, smiling triumphantly. I think I'll try defying gravity, and you won't bring me down!	With every gallant fighter that the tiny blue planet had to offer defeated, it was obvious that the uproaring overlords would soon take over the planet as their trophy; every breathing soul, their slave. The challenger banged his fists on his sweaty breasts as he coaxed the hosts, to send him someone who would test his limits. He had faced hundreds tonight and not a single fighter had managed to land a punch on him. He was brutal, he was reckless, but most importantly he was proud of his might and tonight he was taking no prisoners. The officials were trying their best to prolong the inevitable as desperate eyes in the arena searched for a beacon of hope,who would defeat this atrocity, that stood glistening; in the once white but now a resplendent red ring, too much blood had spilt today and all of it in vain. The janitor loaded the latest victim on his trolley, as his fearful eyes gazed the monster in the ring. To keep the match even, he had taken the form of the dominant species on this planet, Homo Sapien, and while the hunger,greed, lust and recklesslness in his eyes would have fooled any body about his origins... It was the blood lust of a maniac that foreshadowed his face, which gave away his origin. He smirked, at the man who looked terrible, carrying the lifeless remains of so many of his kind to a dumpster at the back, hoping their deaths were not all in vain. The janitor held back all his feelings and subdued his thoughts as he mopped the last shreds of the body of the floor. He was distraught and would have retaliated long back but for the challenger who stood provocating the masses, afterall how do you attack someone who telepathically predicts your next move and crushes you before your thought would reach your limbs. He sighed and pushed the trolley through a boulevard of hopeless spectators and would soon reach the door that closed this onslaught on him, till he was to be summoned again. The neon timepiece above the ring, now a ticking doomsday clock ticked towards the inevitable, the loss of what billions called their home. There was a movement at the officials table. One of the rose and wiped his face. It was time to announce the challenger's Victory ;over an entire planet. When suddenly there was a movement at the hosts entrance to the arena. The official held himself as all the teary and hopefully eyes looked towards the silhouette standing in the bright focus of the arena lights. They all looked desperate, they all looked human. The silhouette walked slowly towards the ring. The doomsday clock reset. Earth had another defender. The lights slowly started to dim as his form slowly began to appear. The challenger grinned to the thought of beating another bag of meat and cracked his muscles in agreement. The host ran to this mystery man and asked for his name.. He was satisfied with the low murmur that came from the mouth of this sentient looking being. Dressed in yellow with a white cape and red gumboots, our hero neared the ring as the speakers gave a sharp shrill to announce. It was at this moment that he slipped and fell face down into the pool of blood. The crowd went quiet at the site of this but roared when the name was announced, Saitama. He cooly wiped his face of a white flag throw to him by a spectator and walked into the ring. The referee briefed the fighters and moved a step back. The challenger's eyes grew blue like the planet he was going to win. His battle mode was on. His telepathy was ready to read his opponents move. He took a step back, he saw a punch coming at him and total darkness. He couldn't go past the image so he readied himself for impact of the petty human that stood in front of him. The bell rang, the referee jumped back further,the crowd was surprised at the challenger covering his chest of all the places. Saitama tightened his left fist and dragging his left foot back... Launched a punch towards the challenger... There was a moment of silence as the other half of the ring seemed soiled... It was blood but it wasn't red. It was green. The challenger looked at the hole where his heart was... and understood his vision... He fell down and exploded like a balloon as the crowd roared in unison, the steam from the blood was Melting and burning the rubber and metal of the mat and in that masked smoke... Our hero left the arena...
	[WP] Humans are new on the galactic stage. The reigning champion in an MMA style fighting ring uses telepathy to predict his opponents movements,but humans have something never seen or heard of before. Muscle memory.	Zollan almost didn't want to use his telepathy against this human. It felt like fighting against a child: a single harsh tap with a finger could probably kill them. His opponent was a woman, barely in her twentieth-fifth cycle. She was short like a child, thin around the waist and breasts, and her face was so lean her cheek bones stuck out. Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and though she the reigning champion of Earth, Zollan found her to be cute- like a puppy. As Zollan watched her across the ring, he wondered what she was thinking about. Zollan's antennae flexed. Almost immediately the girl's thoughts came through his head. -popular! I'll help you to be popular! You'll hang with the right cohorts, you'll be good at sports, know the slang you've got to know- Instead of focusing on the match, the damn girl was singing to herself. It was laughable how easy this match was going to be. Zollan stood up, cracked the bones in his neck, and came to the middle of the ring. The girl did the same, still mentally singing that damn song. Upon seeing his height, the girl startled, and her next thought had Zollan smirking. Wow... he's much bigger when he's standing up... The referee held up his hand. The two opponents got into a fighting stance. "Fight!" Zollan's antennae flexed again. The girl was no longer singing, but thinking and strategizing on how to take down this behemoth of an alien. Her thoughts were a frenzy, one sentence quickly followed by another, making it almost hard to understand. Zollan was still able to make out what she planned to do first. First I'm going to kick him in the chest! Zollan purposely dropped his guard. Seeing this, the girl twisted, brought up her leg to ram it into his ribs. Before she could make contact, Zollan caught her foot, intending to throw her off balance- WHAM! The girl's other foot slammed him against the face. The move stunned him and he let go of the girl's foot, stumbling back. What the-? She had used his grip like a springboard to lift herself up to kick him! She wasn't thinking that beforehand! Damn it, Zollan must've missed that thought. He needed to focus. Shaking off the hit, he got in close, his eyes narrowing in concentration. I'm going to punch him on the right. Zollan threw out his right fist intending to catch the girl. She ducked underneath his arm, slamming her knee into his gut. Zollan gasped. "Damn you!" He bit out, bringing down his arm to crush her. The girl saw the arm and her panicked thought brought great pleasure to Zollan. Oh shit, I'm gonna die! She ducked out of the way, Zollan's arm barely grazing her hair, and then she was back up again, her fists pounding against his face. At one point he grabbed her arm, holding tight. He was going to snap this arm like dry wood- The girl didn't think. There was nothing but silence in her mind as she suddenly kicked him in the back of the knee, collapsing his leg, and when he fell, she easily broke out of his grip like it was second nature. There was a loud resounding CRACK as the girl's elbow connected to his face. Blood filled Zollan's mouth and he knew immediately she had broken his nasal cavity and two of his front teeth. All the while her thoughts were still silent. For the first time in Zollan's career, he was scared. He's never met an opponent who could block his telepathy before. What else could humans do? What else could the girl do to him? The pain was disorienting him and as he lifted his tear-filled eyes to the girl, he saw she backed away. Oh man, is he crying? Shit, I hope I didn't hurt him too badly. I thought he'd be better than this. The humiliation was too much. With a groan, Zollan lifted his arm, signaling the end of the match. All around him the audience screamed with equal amounts of glee and disappointment. Zollan had lost, and he barely fought for five minutes. As the defeated Zollan walked off the ring, a towel around his mouth to stem the bleeding, he decided to listen in to the girl's thoughts one last time. He looked back at the new champion of the galaxy. She was currently holding up the golden belt, smiling triumphantly. I think I'll try defying gravity, and you won't bring me down!	Hours of training had prepared her for this moment. The duel had been going on for over thirty minutes now. Both combatants bloodied. Only melee weapons were allowed. Exhausted in spirit, her will kept her standing. Her opponent seems almost as full of energy as when he started. But she'd anticipated this. \--- A similar time. Training until dawn broke. Discarded weapons littered the training field. The Master and her each with a sword. "You are still standing?" Through sweat...tears?...she replied: "Yes." "Good, that means that you can still fight." The Master took a step towards her. Another step and they would be on the threshold of where they could reach other with the right motions. "Just let go, the rest of your form will know what to do." \--- She became emptiness itself. Her body moved on its own. \--- A lunge, a grab, a pull. One fist coming down like the hammer of god on an anvil. All she needed was that one good opening.
	[WP] Humans are new on the galactic stage. The reigning champion in an MMA style fighting ring uses telepathy to predict his opponents movements,but humans have something never seen or heard of before. Muscle memory.	The world had changed a lot. The universe had come knocking; they were, by all descriptions of all encounters, far beyond us in science, philosophy, technology, and art. They asked if Vermeer was considered a child when they painted. They asked if Einstein's theory of relativity was a joke. They asked how it took us this long to image singularities. They eventually mentioned that we qualified for The Combat, the galactic test of individual strength. Human academics likened this to older tests of strength in our feudal period, and Cloya, the human champion of the United Global MMA Society, was the only logical choice. The first match was illuminating beyond all expectation. The reigning champion of The Combat was Marc (the 'human' appelation, it was abbreviated from Marhcc, which was short for Mar'hcc Of Languishing Poleths And Guran, The Laxd Of The Combat, which was a name handed down through countless generations, apparently, as the telepathic warriors of their species had gained not only championships but enough for a title, The Laxd.) Earth was terrified. Telepathy?! That had to be such a huge advantage in combat. It had to be. And yet. They got in the ring. The luck of the humans (a saying that had come into vernacular via the Galactic Empire, who said it was fortunate we fit the current ruling combat system at all; a few millennia ago, species coming in who breathed air were at a huge disadvantage in most arenas) had to count for something, but what? We were roughly 'humanoid' (and oh, how that term had amused all the non-humans it was used with for a while), but combat capabilities weren't often comparable directly and we'd been paired with the reigning champion right in the first round. We were destined to lose. Destiny was off script that day, as it turned out. Cloya Mercier, the human MMA champion of Earth, entered the ring and the opponents stared each other down. I know what you're thinking, Cloya. Even now. Then maybe you'll have a chance, they thought back. Whether Marc was going to beat them or not, they had to try. Earth must establish itself. The Empire said as much; planets that did poorly in the The Combat were considered weak and their populace were targeted. It was like the champions of old, the stories of knights. Like stories of knights? Like champions of old? Marc laughed in their head. *You are no champion. You're just another human. 'Squishy', as you all claimed for so long? Yes. Squishy. Little. Human. And the only other person you can talk to in your head while you're getting beaten? Me.* Cloya breathed. Why would I talk when I'm under attack and trying to win? It seemed genuinely odd. Marc just chuckled. Marc came in for an obvious grab with their right to Cloya's right, a big mistake. Cloya took the wrist in their right hand, put their other hand on Marc's shoulder, then pulled and brought their knee up. It was one of the first moves they'd picked up, when a clumsy drunk fuckboy tried to grab their shoulder ages ago. From the front, give them no space to work with and get in for a knee shot. From the back, grab-fall forward-pull to screw with them. The knee shot hit. Marc blinked. What? Cloya blinked back, heart pounding in their ears. What what? It was only a moment but their training told the next move even if the words were from a confused thinking self that Cloya set aside when fighting. They brought a sharp headbutt forward, catching Marc completely unaware. Fear was in their eyes. Fear was a sign. And this was real fear. Cloya used the forward momentum bought by holding on to the staggering alien to push them down onto their back; it was a short fight after that, Cloya's brutal training executed perfectly. Marc seemed completely unready for anything. As they held up their hand, confused but triumphant, Cloya cast an eye at Marc, laying on the floor, circulatory fluids swirling into a multicolored puddle in front of their face. How did you lose? How did I win? This isn't real, is it? This is some sort of trick. Is this the telepathy? You make me think I won? What is this? You won. Marc narrowed their eyes. You were silent. All I heard were stray fears and doubts near the beginning. Cloya tilted their head. Oh. You can only hear conscious thought! Marc smiled, even with the blood and missing teeth that lay on the floor beside them. *Yes, it seems. And it seems my species and others have many new features to examine about your* species. Limited brains produced a perfect gem; but so do your oysters, do they not?** Cloya kept their smile as wide as possible. Imagining Marc and a legion of others like them of a million species and a thousand genders, yet somehow none had learned how to train muscle reactions for what we called combat. Earth was either going to rule The Combat, or it was going to be overrun by all those aliens after all of them learned how to train and shut off their higher functions. Or, perhaps, they'd end up the hired brutes of the universe, barely considered a sentient race deserving of respect. The world seemed it might be about to change radically yet again, even after all this.	“The following contest will be fought to the death,” a booming voice states to the nothingness. A single white light illuminates a slender figure. Large, dark, disc-like eyes stare ahead into the darkness. Its arms and legs are shackled as it stands calm and motionless. “Introducing first, from the depths of the Ocean world of Tilaz, with a record of 789 wins to 0 losses, the Tilazian Telepathic, The Flayer of Minds, and your undisputed Galactic Champion…Katatzu!” Katatzu remains still. His focus remains solely what’s ahead. Four precise loud claps in rapid succession shake the stage underneath his feet. “And his opponent…” Another light shines to reveal a man who sits hunched down as he ferociously attacks his restraints. The light startles him for a second. His muddy face is further obscured by long brown matted hair with a beard to match. “From the mysterious lands of the newly discovered Terra, He’s a wild and untamed thing who is ready to prove his species in this ring… Ted!” Ted stands slowly and faces Katatzu. Katatzu hisses. The Four loud claps echo again. A loud click announces a light that floods the stage. A circular fighting ring rests at the center of a large stadium. Amber eyes glow and almost hover around the fighters. The crowd repeats the four clap sequence and slowly increases their tempo to an ear-ringing tone. “No quarter will be asked for none will be given.” The chains from the fighters unlock and disappear into the floor. Ted rubs his wrists. Katatzu bears his teeth as he stretches into a low ready stance. The claps stop suddenly. “Fight!” Ted charges toward Katatzu with a crazed guttural yell. Katatzu’s eyes widen larger than they’ve ever been before. Ted tackles his foe and covers him with several rabid punches to the face. Katatzu tries to fight off his attacker, but his arms are pinned under his irrational attacker’s knees. Ted draws back his arm to deal a heavy blow, but Katatzu takes this moment and flips him off. Ted rolls back up and pounds the floor in anger at the two squares up again. The crowd shows their approval with four claps. Katatzu puts his arms up as Ted delivers a couple punches to the body. The Telepath of Tilaz takes each hit with a grunt. He locks up with the terran and pushes him away. Katatzu sets his distance before he spins into a roundhouse kick, which Ted catches. Ted brings down his elbow with force and breaks Katatzu’s leg. He screeches as his body falls to the floor. Ted breaths heavily as the audience claps in their regular cadence. He looks out toward the glowing amber eyes and begins to beat his chest to match the crowd’s rhythm. Katatzu slowly stands. His face bruised and bloody, his leg weak and shattered. Ted lets out one last roar before he makes his final charge. Katatzu closes his eyes. As Ted makes contact, Katatzu grabs on and spins. Ted’s momentum carries him over the top rope. He flails to grab at it but fails. Ted tumbles into the darkness below. His screams grow softer until it comes to a sudden end. Katatzu slowly stands again and limps to the center of the stage. “Your winner… Katatzu!” The light disappears. The amber eyes remain. Four more claps.
	[WP] Humans are new on the galactic stage. The reigning champion in an MMA style fighting ring uses telepathy to predict his opponents movements,but humans have something never seen or heard of before. Muscle memory.	(This is my first ever comment to this sub in an effort to improve my writing. Please provide feedback to help me improve.) Jamba looked his new opponent up and down. This is the newcomer everyone has been talking about? He couldn't help but let a smirk creep across his face. The human looked weak before the titan of the arena. Jamba has seen vermin that are more intimidating. Filled with confidence, he stepped forward into the ring already considering the match a sure-win in his favor. As the opponent made his way and they finally stood face to face, Jamba already began his analysis. "A low kick fake into a roundhouse." Jamba couldn't help but mock. "That's your grand strategy?" The human's expression remained unchanged. Jamba was annoyed that his taunt went ignored. He couldn't help but feel that this human was looking down on him, the champion. No other fighter dared to show such disrespect. He decided that this newbie was going to serve as a message to any other human that has the nerve to compete. Jamba was going to rip his head clean off right after countering the first attack. The referee finished talking and the bell to begin sounded throughout the arena simultaneous with the cheering of a million fans. The thoughts were still clear in Jamba's mind. The human was still intent on using the roundhouse. It all happened too fast for even the audience to react. The kick came, as Jamba predicted, but before he could counter after his perfectly timed block, another kick followed, and then another. Each kick faster than the last. Faster than Jamba could react to. His mind was flooding. He could tell the move that was about to be launched at him, but all he could do is keep the same defensive stance. Soon he found himself on the receiving end of a hurricane. Punch and kicks landed one after another, faster and stronger with each blow. Jamba lashed out, using rage to guide him rather than his telepathy, but it was a costly mistake. His lightning-fast punch was not only dodged effortlessly but in return, the human painted a target on Jamba's exposed jaw and traded eight punches for his one. Jamba's knees lost every ounce of strength. As he fell down like a tower being demolished, more punches rocked his head around. Then, before his body could completely tumble, a roundhouse came crashing against his skull, sending his bloody face straight down into the mat with a deafening thud. The match was over in less than a minute.	“The following contest will be fought to the death,” a booming voice states to the nothingness. A single white light illuminates a slender figure. Large, dark, disc-like eyes stare ahead into the darkness. Its arms and legs are shackled as it stands calm and motionless. “Introducing first, from the depths of the Ocean world of Tilaz, with a record of 789 wins to 0 losses, the Tilazian Telepathic, The Flayer of Minds, and your undisputed Galactic Champion…Katatzu!” Katatzu remains still. His focus remains solely what’s ahead. Four precise loud claps in rapid succession shake the stage underneath his feet. “And his opponent…” Another light shines to reveal a man who sits hunched down as he ferociously attacks his restraints. The light startles him for a second. His muddy face is further obscured by long brown matted hair with a beard to match. “From the mysterious lands of the newly discovered Terra, He’s a wild and untamed thing who is ready to prove his species in this ring… Ted!” Ted stands slowly and faces Katatzu. Katatzu hisses. The Four loud claps echo again. A loud click announces a light that floods the stage. A circular fighting ring rests at the center of a large stadium. Amber eyes glow and almost hover around the fighters. The crowd repeats the four clap sequence and slowly increases their tempo to an ear-ringing tone. “No quarter will be asked for none will be given.” The chains from the fighters unlock and disappear into the floor. Ted rubs his wrists. Katatzu bears his teeth as he stretches into a low ready stance. The claps stop suddenly. “Fight!” Ted charges toward Katatzu with a crazed guttural yell. Katatzu’s eyes widen larger than they’ve ever been before. Ted tackles his foe and covers him with several rabid punches to the face. Katatzu tries to fight off his attacker, but his arms are pinned under his irrational attacker’s knees. Ted draws back his arm to deal a heavy blow, but Katatzu takes this moment and flips him off. Ted rolls back up and pounds the floor in anger at the two squares up again. The crowd shows their approval with four claps. Katatzu puts his arms up as Ted delivers a couple punches to the body. The Telepath of Tilaz takes each hit with a grunt. He locks up with the terran and pushes him away. Katatzu sets his distance before he spins into a roundhouse kick, which Ted catches. Ted brings down his elbow with force and breaks Katatzu’s leg. He screeches as his body falls to the floor. Ted breaths heavily as the audience claps in their regular cadence. He looks out toward the glowing amber eyes and begins to beat his chest to match the crowd’s rhythm. Katatzu slowly stands. His face bruised and bloody, his leg weak and shattered. Ted lets out one last roar before he makes his final charge. Katatzu closes his eyes. As Ted makes contact, Katatzu grabs on and spins. Ted’s momentum carries him over the top rope. He flails to grab at it but fails. Ted tumbles into the darkness below. His screams grow softer until it comes to a sudden end. Katatzu slowly stands again and limps to the center of the stage. “Your winner… Katatzu!” The light disappears. The amber eyes remain. Four more claps.
	[WP] Humans are new on the galactic stage. The reigning champion in an MMA style fighting ring uses telepathy to predict his opponents movements,but humans have something never seen or heard of before. Muscle memory.	(This is my first ever comment to this sub in an effort to improve my writing. Please provide feedback to help me improve.) Jamba looked his new opponent up and down. This is the newcomer everyone has been talking about? He couldn't help but let a smirk creep across his face. The human looked weak before the titan of the arena. Jamba has seen vermin that are more intimidating. Filled with confidence, he stepped forward into the ring already considering the match a sure-win in his favor. As the opponent made his way and they finally stood face to face, Jamba already began his analysis. "A low kick fake into a roundhouse." Jamba couldn't help but mock. "That's your grand strategy?" The human's expression remained unchanged. Jamba was annoyed that his taunt went ignored. He couldn't help but feel that this human was looking down on him, the champion. No other fighter dared to show such disrespect. He decided that this newbie was going to serve as a message to any other human that has the nerve to compete. Jamba was going to rip his head clean off right after countering the first attack. The referee finished talking and the bell to begin sounded throughout the arena simultaneous with the cheering of a million fans. The thoughts were still clear in Jamba's mind. The human was still intent on using the roundhouse. It all happened too fast for even the audience to react. The kick came, as Jamba predicted, but before he could counter after his perfectly timed block, another kick followed, and then another. Each kick faster than the last. Faster than Jamba could react to. His mind was flooding. He could tell the move that was about to be launched at him, but all he could do is keep the same defensive stance. Soon he found himself on the receiving end of a hurricane. Punch and kicks landed one after another, faster and stronger with each blow. Jamba lashed out, using rage to guide him rather than his telepathy, but it was a costly mistake. His lightning-fast punch was not only dodged effortlessly but in return, the human painted a target on Jamba's exposed jaw and traded eight punches for his one. Jamba's knees lost every ounce of strength. As he fell down like a tower being demolished, more punches rocked his head around. Then, before his body could completely tumble, a roundhouse came crashing against his skull, sending his bloody face straight down into the mat with a deafening thud. The match was over in less than a minute.	I've been living in this space voyager for quite some time, I've even gotten used to all the weird pathways that this place has, even the small intricacies that most other aliens don't understand. I guess they really don't understand humans, I mean how would they. They only started contact a few decades ago; but that didn't stop some of us who wanted to learn and explore more the world beyond our planet. The space voyager was as big as Australia, large enough to fit a few hundred types of alien species in one ship and I got to tell you this place was no joke to get around. Every month there would be an event in the arena where a lot of aliens would watch and bet on; mostly because the reigning champion was a telepath can could read minds- you could call it strategy I however would call it cheating. Intergalactic rules apply it was fine for them, entertaining. But it wasn't for me after watching one fight I wasn't much of a fan. I was more of an explorer and I loved taking challenges and fighting. No matter how fun it was I missed earth and all the hobbies I used to do. I missed rock climbing, paragliding heck I even miss the balance beam that my mom forced me to practice on for years. I miss the thrill, the danger between life or death and hanging on the edge- it was supposed to be all fun and games until Q'shtuen told me he signed me up to battle in the arena. We were close but I sure as hell wouldn't agree to go to that snoozefest- although I do miss the chase. I was in the military after all when I was back on Earth. "What the heck it just a game" I agreed and suddenly... Everything was dark, I didn't know what I got myself into. The cheers and screams were getting louder and louder as I got near the door. Suddenly red lights flash alerting me that the countdown had begun. The gates open and I was shocked to see something familiar, it was a maze and I had thirty seconds to memorize it before the lights turn off. It had the same exact pattern as the floors in the space voyager, I see Axoz my opponent looking at me- I knew he was trying to read my mind but something was off. He wasn't too pleased, The lights go off and I jump from the platform onto the maze. I knew where everything was because I was so used to exploring the voyager that I felt quite at home. I was speeding through the maze and a few obstacles along the way. The doors suddenly close around me and I heard a snicker, I knew it was him but training to be a gymnast all my life was essential for my next move. I set myself, ran and leaped as the final gate was supposed to close. I almost didn't make it but if I wasn't used to rock climbing I wouldn't have had enough grip strength to be able to do what I just this. That was when I heard the screams of anger. I was running near the end when I realized why, I was on the home stretch and started crawling my way under the deck, I had aphantasia and he wasn't able to see me. I reached the end and finished only to be greeted by a crowd that was dead silent when they realized I had won. I guess being impulsive has some of its quirks.
	[WP] Humans are new on the galactic stage. The reigning champion in an MMA style fighting ring uses telepathy to predict his opponents movements,but humans have something never seen or heard of before. Muscle memory.	“You’re up next”, the man in grey said while opening the entrance into the arena. Well he wasn’t exactly a man with those two wings sprouting from his back. Not like I was surprised. There were dozens of them lining up outside as I entered the stadium, along with several other kinds of people. I saw some guys with metal body parts, tentacles for arms, and some even had some plants growing at the top of their heads. They were the ones who stood out to me the most oddly enough, because I didn’t expect to see something that normal yet strange. As the vehicle (I literally have no idea what I rode to the stadium back then; I guess it was some sort of hovercar with a glass floor, no way that thing was able to propel itself) passed by the crowd, I saw one of them throw a water bottle to a random spot in the crowd. “Thanks Kine!” I heard someone shout from the back. “I thought you would need it, don’t worry about it!” Kine said. How would he possibly know that? “Buddy it’s time to go.” The angel like man caressed me with his wings. I was told that it was a common gesture among them, and that I shouldn’t comment. I entered the arena. The announcer went straight to the point. “From the human race, who honed his skills from many of their fighting styles for 30 years, welcome Sao Willow! And everyone knows his opponent, the undefeated peat champion from the Plantae race, Inio! Simple rules, first one to be unable to continue fighting loses!” But enough of that, begin!” I eyed my opponent. He was roughly around my height, with pale skin. Some sort of flower was blossoming from his forehead, pointing at me. He kept squinting at me, like he was trying to force a secret out of me. Then he relaxed. Thoughts were running through my mind about taking the initiative, when suddenly he rushed towards me. I had no time to think, and subconsciously raised up my arm to block his hammer strike. For some reason, he had a shocked look on his face for a moment and jumped back. I was also confused. Why was he surprised? Like he didn’t expect an experienced fighter to automatically raise up an arm to defend. Thoughts ran through my head. Then I suddenly remembered Kine and the water bottle. It was then I knew, although it was just a mere hypothesis, a mere guess back then. I cleared my head. He tried to rush towards me again. I dodged right from the axe kick he smashed the floor with and half moon kicked his open face. He staggered, and the stadium was silent. “You are the first opponent I can’t read.” What’s your secret?” He asked me. “Ever heard of muscle memory?” I asked in reply. “I don’t need to think for certain actions, my body knows how to do it on its own.” He paled even more. “Well then, I’ll just move faster than your body can comprehend then!” He exclaimed, suddenly going for a straight punch to the face at a superhuman speed. It got me good in the mouth. My face bled. The audience cheered. Inio suddenly disappeared into a blur, nowhere to be seen. Which meant one thing. I instinctively looked behind me and immediately kicked where I expected him to be. I felt my foot make contact. He staggered, lowering his head. Without thinking too much about it, I axed kicked his head to the floor. Everyone was silent, looking at Inio to see if he would get up. He didn’t get up. Thanks for this prompt! I’m relatively new to writing, and I was part of the school Taekwondo team before, so I really got pumped up for writing this. Criticism is welcome, I always want to improve.	I've been living in this space voyager for quite some time, I've even gotten used to all the weird pathways that this place has, even the small intricacies that most other aliens don't understand. I guess they really don't understand humans, I mean how would they. They only started contact a few decades ago; but that didn't stop some of us who wanted to learn and explore more the world beyond our planet. The space voyager was as big as Australia, large enough to fit a few hundred types of alien species in one ship and I got to tell you this place was no joke to get around. Every month there would be an event in the arena where a lot of aliens would watch and bet on; mostly because the reigning champion was a telepath can could read minds- you could call it strategy I however would call it cheating. Intergalactic rules apply it was fine for them, entertaining. But it wasn't for me after watching one fight I wasn't much of a fan. I was more of an explorer and I loved taking challenges and fighting. No matter how fun it was I missed earth and all the hobbies I used to do. I missed rock climbing, paragliding heck I even miss the balance beam that my mom forced me to practice on for years. I miss the thrill, the danger between life or death and hanging on the edge- it was supposed to be all fun and games until Q'shtuen told me he signed me up to battle in the arena. We were close but I sure as hell wouldn't agree to go to that snoozefest- although I do miss the chase. I was in the military after all when I was back on Earth. "What the heck it just a game" I agreed and suddenly... Everything was dark, I didn't know what I got myself into. The cheers and screams were getting louder and louder as I got near the door. Suddenly red lights flash alerting me that the countdown had begun. The gates open and I was shocked to see something familiar, it was a maze and I had thirty seconds to memorize it before the lights turn off. It had the same exact pattern as the floors in the space voyager, I see Axoz my opponent looking at me- I knew he was trying to read my mind but something was off. He wasn't too pleased, The lights go off and I jump from the platform onto the maze. I knew where everything was because I was so used to exploring the voyager that I felt quite at home. I was speeding through the maze and a few obstacles along the way. The doors suddenly close around me and I heard a snicker, I knew it was him but training to be a gymnast all my life was essential for my next move. I set myself, ran and leaped as the final gate was supposed to close. I almost didn't make it but if I wasn't used to rock climbing I wouldn't have had enough grip strength to be able to do what I just this. That was when I heard the screams of anger. I was running near the end when I realized why, I was on the home stretch and started crawling my way under the deck, I had aphantasia and he wasn't able to see me. I reached the end and finished only to be greeted by a crowd that was dead silent when they realized I had won. I guess being impulsive has some of its quirks.
	[WP] A monster approached a monster hunter. The hunter drew his weapon. The monster prostrated. "I heard you were the best at tracking my kind down. I'm desperate to find someone dear to me."	Empty shot glasses crowded the corner of the dust swept bar. “Another,” a voice called and an empty glass filled with amber fluid. It slammed back to the table with a quelled groan and the bartender, a man with a twirled mustache and crisp bow tie leaned in. “You have a visitor Gam,” he pointed to a corner stall past empty tables and underneath dense drapery. “What he want?” Gam asked shaking his glass for another pour. Glaring at the bartender with his good eye, the other hidden behind old bandages. “No more,” the bartender said collecting the glasses, “get up and get to work. Says he needs the best there is. I said I know just the man.” He slapped a glittering green coin on the table. “Says there’s more where that came from.” Gam inspected the coin closely, it radiated a sickly hue with a surface that seemed out of focus. “I don’t know what it is, but it looks valuable.” “You get out back,” Gam said, hands on his holster. The seriousness of his expression was all it took for the bartender to find the back door. Gam moved in slow, deliberate steps. His boots clacking against the worn wood, the stall drawing nearer. He pulled out a revolver, chamber loaded and hammer cocked. “Don’t shoot! I mean no harm!” Behind the circular table and up on a set of plush pillows sat a man with green eyes and fresh face. Gam’s revolver remained fixed. “Thought we had a deal,” Gam said, “your type don’t go near my type.” “Please, sit.” As it spoke blue vapor seeped through its nose and mouth, as if it had just taken a long drag of a cigarette. Gam sat, gun remained above the table. “I spent too much time dealing with your...” Gam let out a sneer, “...kind. Your people cause a lot of problems for my type, meddling in things you have no business meddling in.” The man reached into a burlap sack and revealed a fresh fifth of a dark amber whisky with the number 68 on the label. Gam withdrew his gun. Two glasses found the table. “So you know about me,” Gam said with a barely disguised smile, “not many take the time.” “I am looking for someone, and you’re the best there is.” The man said, pushing the fresh glass toward Gam. “if your type can’t find’em then I can’t findem.” Gam took a shaking sip, savoring the taste on his tongue. The figure’s features began to morph and change at the comment, amorphous and out of focus but roughly humanoid. “We can see but can’t find. I don’t know where to look, there is too much to sift through. I need something else.” Gam reached across the table and poured himself another drink seemingly satisfied with the offerings. “You need a looker.” The creature let out a puff of sweet smelling blue vapor. Gam downed another glass, abandoning any pretense of ritual or appreciation. “What’s the job?” Gam said finally. The creature leaned in, face falling into focus with thinning nostrils and glistening eyes. “I want you to help me find someone very important.” “I won’t go back to your type, that was the agreement.” The creature leaned back, disappearing in a fog of blue. “No, I need help finding a most abnormal human.” Gam sat up straight, the drunken stupor evaporating with each moment. “Will I need a gun?” The creature responded with a hollow echo. “Several.”	Diana's immediate reaction was to laugh, scornfully and hard. "Yeah. Right." She raised the point of her rapier, sinking into a fighting stance. But the Dark didn't move. She continued to kneel before her, rain plastering her hair into inky trails on her pale skin, expression unchanging. Diana shook her head slowly. "How stupid do you think I am. Get up and fight, demon. I don't have time for games." The new series of Bad Blood was just begging for her attention back home. She could still squeeze in a few episodes tonight. Unfortunately, begging seemed to be the theme of the night. "I'm serious," the demon girl said. "You can help me find him. And if you do...it'll help you too." Diana weighed up whether to just attack. The light, flittering rain around them was rapidly becoming unpleasant now, not atmospheric. "Help me how?" she asked casually, planning her next move. She'd try a lunge. Sometimes a direct attack was the most surprising. "We're bound. He made me." The Dark's face tightened. Her pale blue eyes seemed to glimmer with an inner light. But she didn't look about to attack. She looked in pain. The hunter paused, plans arrested. "What?" "Five hundred years ago. I was a human girl like you till he shared the Dark to me. Kill me and he gets stronger, you know that. But if you bring him to me, I'll fight him too." This was the most bizarre set of lies Diana had ever heard from a Dark. They begged, they offered, they threatened. They didn't... ever negotiate to offer to kill each other. She knew she should just attack the beast and get it over with, but she couldn't help getting, well - annoyed. "What the heck are you talking about, you liar? You're not made! I should think I know the difference, I've killed enough of you!" Made were almost mindless, violent, grotesquely thin and pale and hairless, and certainly not able to talk. The demon girl sighed. She looked tired. "Like I said. I'm very old. It was a different time. I met him a very, very long time ago. He shared the Dark, half of what he was and I became just like him. Not like the made you see today, maybe not like anyone else. I don't know. I've never done it myself." She turned her resting pale hands, slowly, so that her palms faced up and outwards. It was a gesture of supplication. "Please. Please, I am asking you to find him. Because I can't. And because I can't go on." I could help with that, was the automatic quip that came to Diana's mind. Buffy had one thing right - Demon slayers needed a healthy supply of quips and black humour. It was an essential part of the arsenal. "Why do you want to find him?" The demon girl answered immediately. "I want to kill him." A wry twist to one corner of her mouth, but her eyes remained the same. "Or he kills me. But maybe I'll kill him. Either way, you'll win. You can kill me, sure, but it'd be a waste of an opportunity. The power goes back to the original. You'll have to get to him sooner or later. And if I kill him? Well I'll be done for. I'm only alive so long as he is." The hunter took in these strange words. In one hand she still held her rapier, the other thoughtfully rolled a silver nitrate bomb in her pocket, for she wasn't stupid. "A talking made," Diana mused. "Obviously, this sounds like a fairy tale." Her fingertips rested on the bomb's catch. One press, one throw, one lunge, or a rush and slash. It was, after all, raining, and this demon's lies, though convincingly bizarre, were also just frankly bizarre. "And why would you want to kill your maker?" She looked almost like a teenager, this demon, certainly no older than early twenties. Her voice did not fit. Measured, quiet, deliberate, low. Eyes that never blinked, like a snake. Something wrong about the face - a draw to her skin, a dark shadowing under her eyes and sharp cheekbones that hinted at something predatory. Dressed all in thin black, not shivering despite the increasing wet and the cool of the early spring chill, kneeling on the puddled concrete of the alley without a hint of discomfort. Her fixed gaze faltered, growing distant, staring into an unknown past. "Do you know what he did to me?" the girl said softly, and of course Diana wanted to retort, no. But it was a remarkable mimicry of pure pain, loss, regret. So remarkable it could be true.
	[WP] A monster approached a monster hunter. The hunter drew his weapon. The monster prostrated. "I heard you were the best at tracking my kind down. I'm desperate to find someone dear to me."	She was hideous; eyes the color of a clear sky, hair as yellow as the sun. Her tiny frame belied the power behind each swing of her sword. Her only redeeming feature was the dark purple scar running from her temple to her upper lip. Her armor left much of her soft, pink flesh exposed- It was easy to understand how so many of my sisters and brothers had succumbed to her blade, she looked absolutely stupid. Surely human eyes could not see so far, but she turned to face me exactly, so I crossed my arms behind my back and knelt on the ground. She walked slowly, too slowly. Her short legs covered almost no ground with each step, the canine at her side seemed to struggle to maintain such a slow pace. Part of me regretted not approaching her myself, but I knew that if I changed my strategy, she would assume I was hostile and I would meet my end. Her sword looked like a needle in her hand, but much like her, it's size failed to demonstrate how capable it was at ending lives. Her face was a mask of concentration as she sluggishly moved toward me. I could hear the soft clink of her animal's armor before I could smell the rosey stink of her sweat. It was hard to imagine living with the pitiful senses of a human, practically blind and deaf, but somehow the world belonged to them. She broke into a job when she entered the range of my magic, I was impressed that she could even determine my ability. Somehow, she was more graceful than her canine as she ran, loping over the long grass as if it was the animal who had been restricting her pace. Every muscle in my body clenched, my very spirit writhed at the concept of allowing her to close the gap between us without at least expanding the weight of my magical pressure to impede her. Her body froze when she was within my reach, a mere ten feet before me. Perhaps the distance seemed sufficient to her pitiful perception, but I could spring forward and snatch the throat from her body in an instant. Her mongrel growled as it hunched by her heal, a trained puppet. She snapped her fingers and it's attempt to appear menacing ended immediately. "What do you want creature? The sun will rise in mere moments, you did not try to discomfort me with your magic, you did not attack when I entered your range. Give me a reason not to end you, or join the rest of your kind that I've stumbled upon." She knew she was unsafe so close to me. She knew I needed to speak with her. To assume I could only discomfort her with my magic was an insult I could barely stomach. My hackles raised when she so rudely referenced my slain brothers and sisters. "Creature? Have I behaved as a mindless being to you? A beast to be threatened and insulted? You stand upon your moral high ground, as if being human alone makes you superior. I appreciate your willingness to listen, though, so I will not prove my own superiority to you." Her animal resumed it's growling, this time she did not silence it. Anger surged through my veins as my own foolishness crashed down upon me. Posturing would only hurt my cause. "You are a hunter. The Harbinger. The greatest of human kind at finding the Nightwatch and murdering us. Your sword pierces our flesh as if it were as soft as your own, your eyes peer into the night as if they were our own. Your very name, Harbinger, causes the weaker of my kind to flee. I do not come to avenge my fallen sisters and brothers. I do not come to harass you. As much as it pains me, and believe me, this meeting physically pains me, I have to come ask your aid." She laughed in my face, her hard eyes piercing me as her mirthless cacophony echoed across the field. She stepped closer to me, brandishing her deadly blade, stopping only when she was close enough to strike. "You are less than human, creature. A slaughterer, a demon. Your kind steals our young, eats our children. Your kind raze our villages, burn our crops. Nothing is safe in your presence. You come before me, and the only reason you have for me not to end you here and now, is because you want me to help you?" Her aura was incredible. Humans could not use magic, but the sheer force of her hatred burned as radiant light. I struggled to contain my own magic, my reflex to overwhelm those of any power within my territory battled with my desire to accomplish my goals. "I have never feasted upon the flesh of man. My realm is strong and secure, your people have yet to push me into a corner for the sake of your pitiful agriculture or hideous cities. My kind do what they must to survive, the strong devour the week. Humans are weak, and we must eat. This is the way of things. You heard and slaughter cattle, why do you believe yourself to be better than us?" She snapped her arm upward, the tip of her blade pressing against my throat. Shaking wracked her body, visible rage cascading over her frame. Human arms were short, not even long enough to reach the ground below them when the stood, but she felt so far out of reach in that moment that I knew I could never best her in combat. "You view humans as cattle! It doesn't matter if you have never killed one of us, you are heartless monsters, all of you. Humans have thoughts, and feelings, and dreams, and families- that is what makes us better than you, the fact that you do not even understand is what makes me better than you. What do you want creature, or should I just end you now." Her presence caused cold sweat to wet the long, black fur on my arms. Adrenaline pumped through my veins and a desire to take action nearly overwhelmed me. Fear. She had forced me to feel fear. "This debate will yield no results. You are so prejudiced against my kind that even the innocent are not innocent in your eyes. I would not be here if I did not need to be. Mixing with humanity is the easiest way to ensure one does not reach the age that I have. Please, Harbinger, I need you to help me find my sister." She froze as the sun began to rise above the horizon. It's burning rays would not take long to extend to our position. I needed to retreat within the trees behind me soon. Her intimidating aura had seemingly disappeared, though, and confusion overwhelmed my ability to continue speaking. "You need me to help you find your sister? But why?" Her blade was removed from my throat. My pulse once again slowed. Her aggression seemed to have completely evaporated, even her trained puppet was no longer standing at guard, but was sniffing the underbrush of the trees behind me. "My father viewed humans differently than I did. You have already crossed paths with him, though, Harbinger. Many of the women of your kind have. Even my own kind shunned him for his depravities, but when one becomes as powerful as he was, one often loses touch with reason." She stood still as stone. Her eyes had grown wider as I spoke, but she waited for me to continue. "One of your kind, despite how impossible it seemed, had the Constitution to give birth to his progeny. None of us knew, for years, nearly fifty years, I have had a sister wandering this world alone - shunned by your kind and unknown to mine. I must find her. I must right the wrongs of my father. I know nothing of her, and she nothing of me - but she must be given a place in this world." Her nose wrinkled as the smell of my skin burning in the early morning light reached her nostrils. She sheathed her sword with a fluid motion and pointed to the shade behind me. "Tell me your name, creature, and return to the shadows you came from." She seemed even smaller than before. As if her own power was reduced by the light of day. "I am Morthaesi, Hardbinger, will you help me? Every being should have a place." Her eyes watered as the bright sun pierced them, the muscles in my back twitched as I continued to burn. "I'll help you, Morthaesi, now get out of the sun. My hound will be able to find you, when I need to find you; he will never forget your scent. Expect to hear from me soon. Tell those of your kind that you happen upon to leave humans in the area alone, I'll search for your sister when I am not hunting for vengeance. Now go." She turned and walked away from me. I nearly wept, as human as it was to weep. My sister would be returned to us, her loneliness assuaged. Harbinger would find her, she could do things no other being could. I rolled my shoulders as my flesh began to knit itself together as I entered the deeper shadows within the trees and opened a portal to my holding. My sister would be found. I apologise for formatting or whatever, I'm on mobile and kinda suck anyway, hope.you enjoyed though. Happy to answer any questions or comments.	I blinked, confused by the vampire in front of me. I don’t really think of myself as the best of, well, anything. I have a particular ability, and honed my life and my skills around making the best use of that ability as I could. As such, I’ve become fairly successful at hunting the things that hunt people - and particularly good at hunting the undead. Usually it’s all bluster and bravado, long winded monologues followed by fangs and blood and adrenaline. But this, this was new. In all my years of hunting, I’ve never had one ask me for help; begging for the lives, sure. Asking for clemency or a second chance or even just asking if there was an afterlife for them - a surprising number of the immortal undead have a fear of what comes after. “Please,” the prostrate form begged, “please help me find Michael. He’s been missing for days, and I don’t know what else to do.” I hesitated. Normally I wouldn’t, but there was something different, almost... primal in the loss in his voice. “Why should I care about a missing vampire?” I managed. “Michael isn’t a vampire,” he said, turning his head slightly to the side so he could look at me. “He’s my son, from before. He’s fifteen, and he doesn’t have anyone since his mother died.” He looked up at me, pain evident in his eyes. “Please, please help me.”
	[WP] A monster approached a monster hunter. The hunter drew his weapon. The monster prostrated. "I heard you were the best at tracking my kind down. I'm desperate to find someone dear to me."	The beast snarled - or was that a whimper? She rested her head against the gun barrel. Several grams of silver waited, straining for release. He could almost feel the bullet whispering to him, begging to be fired into the monster’s head. To end its life. His trigger finger itched. “Please,” she asked again. “There are so few of us left. I know you’re the best - I know you can find my father.” “Why should I help you,” he sneered? “Your kind have been hunting mine for thousands of years. Now we’re the hunters - and you don’t even have the dignity to hold your head high as you die?” “I’m no hunter,” she murmured. “I prey on animals. Livestock. And I leave them alive when I can.” “Impossible. Nobody can resist the Hunger.” “I can.” “There’s no way that I can know you’re telling the truth.” She opened her mouth, and he nearly pulled the trigger before he saw that she was baring her fangs. They were short and blunted. “My fangs haven’t grown in yet,” she murmured. “Not enough - or any - human kills.” Cooper grunted. She could’ve filed them down, but it wasn’t impossible that the monster was telling the truth. This was all getting too complicated - and Cooper hated complications. “Why’d you approach me?” “Like I said, I need you to find my father.” “Why do you need to find your father?” “Besides the fact that he’s dear to me? That he’s the only family I have left?” She looked up and made eye contact. Behind his mirrored shades, Cooper shuddered at her inhuman gaze. “He can help you.” “Does it look like I need any help?” “You’re just one man. My father - he was like me. A pacifist. He was working on a way to make human blood toxic to Greys.” The implications were immediately clear. “I could kill Greys with my blood? You could do that?” “If they tried to eat it, yes. And not me - my father. Which is a good reason for you to help me.” He thought about it for a few moments. “If this is some kind of trick…” “It’s not,” she said, and for some reason, he believed her. A few long moments passed before he raised the gun. “Get up.” “My name’s Veil,” she said without being prompted. “Good to know. Now get up. Here are the rules - you feed only when I tell on, and only on what I tell you. You stay in front of me - if you try to run off, you take a silver bullet to the head. And -” He pulled a blinking ankle bracelet from his bag. “You wear this.” “You’re treating me like a convict? Like a human convict?” “You’re from a race of human-eating monsters. It’s for my safety. You in or not?” Veil sighed and rolled up a pant leg. Cooper fastened the blinking metal cuff around one of her slim ankles. Her skin was warm to the touch - far warmer than any human’s could have been. “You take that off, or try to run - it’ll stop you. Don’t do it.” “One more thing,” Veil said, and then the window exploded. “The others don’t like my father’s research.” “Great,” Cooper stated. “Thanks for letting me know ahead of time.” “There’s a back exit. Let’s go.” --- /r/OneMillionWords for more	"I'm sorry, what now?" He stood before me. Roughly twice my height, third arm arching over his head, which contained massive jagged, misaligned teeth. A fairly common monster, usually found in forests. Sometimes they come out and wreck villages, and need to be dealt with. This one had been oddly easy to find. "I beg of you, please, help me. My child, he is gone. I cannot find him anywhere," he said. I tightened my grip on the sword in my hands, uneasy at this strange turn of events. I'd been tasked with hunting down a creature that had been bothering the local village, walking around and damaging property. That same monster now stood before me, asking for help. "Why do you ask me of all people? You are aware I am tasked with killing you, yes?" I asked him. He fidgeted a bit, his third arm twisting his head to crack his neck. He responded, voice low and raspy, "I know what your job is. That is exactly the reason I ask you for help. Extraordinary, your tracking skills are. Please, use your skills to find my child." I lowered my sword slightly, loosening my grip on it. My hands grew tired of holding the sword up for so long. Any other day, and this abomination would be headless on the ground before it could say a thing to me. It was my job to kill bothersome monsters, after all. And I was good at it. "Now, let me ask you this, why should I not kill you right now? This is my livelihood. I cannot eat the air, and refuse to become a bandit to survive. What reason do I have to help you rather than end you right now?" I asked him. This gave him pause, his breathing stopping for just a moment. He blinked multiple times in quick succession, clearly lost in thought. The longer I stood there before him, the more I felt the urge to help him. He seemed almost human. "True, you are right. You have no reason to help me out here. But, I'll ask you anyway, because I need help. You are the only one who can give it to me. Please, just help me. I'll disappear after, I'll go away, just help me. My child... My child... He is gone.. " His pleading struck deep into my heart, and stirred up an aching in my chest, an odd feeling as though my chest were imploding and bursting at the same time. I looked into his hideous face, looking directly at his eyes. How revolting. Yet, somehow, how human? Any expression a human face could make could also be found in his. Something stirred deep inside me. I placed my sword back into its scabbard on my back and pulled my hood off my head. His face turned from one of desperation to one of relief as I stuck out my hand. He reached out and took it, almost crushing my hand with his strength. "The deal is struck then. I'll help you. Just, don't bother these folks anymore," I told him. "Oh, those damaged buildings over there? Dude, do you know how hard it is to fit this body into your tiny doors?"
	[WP] A monster approached a monster hunter. The hunter drew his weapon. The monster prostrated. "I heard you were the best at tracking my kind down. I'm desperate to find someone dear to me."	Orianna's hand was already curling around the hilt of her quill-blade when the beast transformed. It was the rain that gave it away. It was subtle, but she had noticed it as the young boy pleaded with her about some sort of tracking request. His skin soaked up the rain, darkening ever so slightly as each droplet hit, like tea carelessly spilled on the parchment of one of her favored dramatic novels. She didn't intend to give the beast a chance to kill her, once it had revealed itself. Orianna was in motion before the beast's transformation was even half-completed, her training kicking in before the first fluttering pages burst out of the young boy's skin. In the blink of an eye she crossed the distance, mud flying from her heels. Before it could react, she knocked the beast into the mud with a solid kick, pinning it down with the weight of a knee on the firm crest of it's spine. And just like that, it was over. It fluttered frantically underneath her knee, in a futile attempt to escape, to free itself and complete it's transformation. But Orianna was experienced, and there was no weight behind the little beast's flailing. It was small, as the Torn went, no more than one hundred pages thick. Eight years old, in human time. "Please, listen to--" She shifted her weight, grinding the thing's face into the mud. It made a small sound, guttural and frightened. It's face, so human despite how unnaturally white it was against the earth, was screwed up in pain. Black tears welled up in it's eyes. It looked so young. She was almost fooled by it. Almost. But the Torn weren't human, no matter how much they pretended. They were just magicked up words on a page, given life by forces beyond her understanding. She quashed down the foolish feelings of empathy rising within her and drew a bookbinder from one of the many pockets of her Librarian robes. She set it firm against the boy -- the beast's \-- spine, and allowed herself a small release of tension as the metal hooks sunk deep into leathery flesh. With the binder in position on it's spine, the creature had no room in which to unfurl, revealing potentially deadly pages. She adjusted her spectacles. "Now then," she said. "Beast. Have you any last words? Any bit of lore or arcana contained within you that you wish to share before death?" It was surprising how often this line worked. The Torn seemed to value knowledge above all else, to the extent that they would share it even with their killers. Some sort of last-ditch attempt of words on a page to live on in the minds of men. She had learned more than a few clever tricks of sorcery this way. "Yes," the beast said, striving to turn it's head far enough to catch her eye. "That's what I was trying to tell you, but you kept ignoring me!" "What? The tracking quest? Seriously?" The little beast nodded furiously, smearing it's face with mud. "I thought that was merely a ruse to lower my guard." Orianna laughed. "The Library of Alexandria has been lost for centuries now, little one. Not even I could find it." "That's just because you never knew where to look," the little beast said, no longer struggling to get away. "Oh, and you do?" The Torn thrust it's chin out defiantly. "I know the way! I have a map!" Orianna unsheathed her quill-blade. "Oh really now. A map. To the single greatest treasure trove known to mankind.And why, exactly, shouldn't I just kill you now and take this map." She pulled her blade's trigger, allowing a single drop of ink to fall from her blade's nib. "From your corpse's ink-wet pockets after I slay you?" Orianna felt the beast's pages shiver beneath her sandal, already anticipating the sweep of her quill-blade. "Because I am the map."	"I'm sorry, what now?" He stood before me. Roughly twice my height, third arm arching over his head, which contained massive jagged, misaligned teeth. A fairly common monster, usually found in forests. Sometimes they come out and wreck villages, and need to be dealt with. This one had been oddly easy to find. "I beg of you, please, help me. My child, he is gone. I cannot find him anywhere," he said. I tightened my grip on the sword in my hands, uneasy at this strange turn of events. I'd been tasked with hunting down a creature that had been bothering the local village, walking around and damaging property. That same monster now stood before me, asking for help. "Why do you ask me of all people? You are aware I am tasked with killing you, yes?" I asked him. He fidgeted a bit, his third arm twisting his head to crack his neck. He responded, voice low and raspy, "I know what your job is. That is exactly the reason I ask you for help. Extraordinary, your tracking skills are. Please, use your skills to find my child." I lowered my sword slightly, loosening my grip on it. My hands grew tired of holding the sword up for so long. Any other day, and this abomination would be headless on the ground before it could say a thing to me. It was my job to kill bothersome monsters, after all. And I was good at it. "Now, let me ask you this, why should I not kill you right now? This is my livelihood. I cannot eat the air, and refuse to become a bandit to survive. What reason do I have to help you rather than end you right now?" I asked him. This gave him pause, his breathing stopping for just a moment. He blinked multiple times in quick succession, clearly lost in thought. The longer I stood there before him, the more I felt the urge to help him. He seemed almost human. "True, you are right. You have no reason to help me out here. But, I'll ask you anyway, because I need help. You are the only one who can give it to me. Please, just help me. I'll disappear after, I'll go away, just help me. My child... My child... He is gone.. " His pleading struck deep into my heart, and stirred up an aching in my chest, an odd feeling as though my chest were imploding and bursting at the same time. I looked into his hideous face, looking directly at his eyes. How revolting. Yet, somehow, how human? Any expression a human face could make could also be found in his. Something stirred deep inside me. I placed my sword back into its scabbard on my back and pulled my hood off my head. His face turned from one of desperation to one of relief as I stuck out my hand. He reached out and took it, almost crushing my hand with his strength. "The deal is struck then. I'll help you. Just, don't bother these folks anymore," I told him. "Oh, those damaged buildings over there? Dude, do you know how hard it is to fit this body into your tiny doors?"
	[WP] People have gained the ability to "log out" in real life. But that also means they're able to log in. If you find out someone's password and full name, you gain the ability to log in as them. That is what lead to... this.	I stirred out of my bed and rubbed my eyes as they adjusted to the white light flickering in my small cubicle room. I walked to the mirror and frowned at my ragged expression. “What’s the weather like?” I asked. “Good morning Tony, it is currently one hundred forty five degrees Fahrenheit outside. Pollution percentage is ninety-eight point seven-seven percent.” I smiled a little at the news, it had been months since the pollution had lowered at all, even a hundredth of a percent was an ordeal. There would probably be an event to celebrate. I walked over to my VR pod and sat into the seat. Humans had damaged the world, but it could still be fixed. We had to settle for living in quarantine until the planet was livable again. The estimate by the founders was two thousand years, It always upset me to know I would never see the sun. At least I was alive, and they gave me a way to experience the things I would never truly see. The glass pod door closed with a whine, and the smoke flooded up from the bottom of the container. My eyelids closed and my body drifted into a sleep that didn’t reach my mind. The visor fell over my head and the blue text on a black background appeared. “Welcome to Real Life! Patch 3.1.1134.” Slowly the welcome screen faded out of existence and I stretched out my virtual arms, making sure I had connected properly. Instead of my cottage in the mountain region, I starred at metal bars. Confused I turned to the walls and saw cold stone walls clustering around me. Fearing I had been a victim of a malicious prank, I tried to teleport home. “Teleportation is not available from this location,” the system screen informed me. “Finally decided to log in huh? Damn scumbag,” a man in high leveled armor said. I grabbed the bars of my cage with a smile, someone else was here, they could help me understand what was happening. “Yeah there seams to have been a mistake.” “Shut up,” he said slamming his club against the cage. The shock wave knocked me off my feet and onto the ground. I blinked up at him, hurting and confused. ‘Real Life,’ felt every bit like the real world. My head pounded, and I shook it confused. “What? What was that for?” “Captain, he’s logged in.” A man in maxed out gear strode in front of my cage, sneering down at me like I was a rabid dog. “Finally decided to talk, huh?” he asked. “What do you mean? I logged in as soon as I woke up, I logged out in my cottage. There has to be some sort of mistake.” “No mistake here. We have access to the admin logs. You’re character created hundreds of bots and stole all the rewards from the pollution down event.” “What? How could I? I wasn’t logged in, I don’t know a thing about bots. There’s been a mistake!” I exclaimed. “Don’t want to tell us how you did it huh? Fine, you can rot in this cage or the one in the real world. I don’t care.” With those final words the captain and his guard left me in my cell. Alone. Real life was suddenly the same as the real world, isolated and dull. I flicked through my inventory and found that all of my items were gone aside from the soul-bound equipment. With a scowl I slammed the menu shut. \Poink\ A red notification appeared on the lower right hand of my perception, a message. I opened it, holding my breath, hoping that it would help. “Hey there Towknee, My name is Hacker-Man, sorry I stole you’re identity, XD. Thanks for serving my time in the prison cells, hope this message is enough to get the guards to let you out. Probably not though. Sorry I screwed over your ‘Real life’ account, but really thanks for all the items and gold. If you ever get out I’ll be sure to give you a hand. Hacker-Man out! XD.” I grabbed onto the bars and screamed for the guards, they didn’t come until my voice was hoarse. After I showed them the message they scoffed, ‘he has an accomplice.’ They said, not believing for a second I hadn’t done those things. I would get out, and I would make Hacker man pay. &#x200B; /r/QuarkLaserdisc	Logging out was more of a curse than a blessing. There was nothing to "Log Out" to, just an empty void with a menu screen to log back in. There were some benefits I guess; people could fix their visual and audio settings, so the majority of those deaf or blind were suddenly curable overnight. But then came the hackers and scammers. People who would log in as others, booting them off the "server" and quickly changing their password to get back in, sending all of the victim's money to some anonymous bank account and then burning the rest of their assets and documents before logging out somewhere designed to get them horribly killed as soon as the account was recovered by the original owner. "Two Factor" authentication became more of a thing, where people would ask you some key question to verify who you were. Celebrities and world leaders were especially hard to "hack". Simon though... he was a lot more subtle. He hacked our professor while he was sleeping, and got into his home computer with all the final exam answers. Got him back into bed and logged out without him suspecting a thing! Must have made him think he logged out by accident. One of the girls though, Jenny, she found out about our plan to ace the test. The price for not busting us both? I'd have to do her exam too. Hers was at a different time so it worked out... and don't get me wrong, being a girl for a few hours was wild; but when the only thing you get to do is write down test answers, its not that great. I logged back in as myself after, and there's Simon. On his knees. Sucking my... "Uhhh...It was Jenny's idea...?"
	[WP] People have gained the ability to "log out" in real life. But that also means they're able to log in. If you find out someone's password and full name, you gain the ability to log in as them. That is what lead to... this.	Damn is a versatile word, and it happened to be Fell’s favorite. Damn this, damn you, God Himself damn it, those damned millennials, damn it all to hell; Fell loved it all. Recently, he had begun to use it more and more until non-damns in his sentences had to be found with the help of a metaphorical electron microscope. “Damn these damn stupid kids,” he swore. “Give me my damned body back right damn now!” The short red man called Fell Linstow was blustering in a haze of logged-out soup. Fell pointed a ghostly finger at the teen inhabiting his body and shook it in a way that was absolutely terrifying in Fell’s nearsighted eyes and terrifyingly annoying to the boy, who was Kensley. Kensley made a gesture that was immature even for his incredibly low standards. Fell inhaled a scandaled gasp out of his wide, gross old man mouth, followed by a quiet “damn.” Kensley rolled his eyes up to his disappointed God. “Well, then you shouldn’t have left your password literally on the computer. And seriously, ‘password01?’ You’re kinda asking for it, dude.” Fell’s cheeks (and ears, and neck, and really his entire body) would have reddened impossibly beyond his already cherry complexion, but given that he was logged out, his spirit was only able to manage a transparent salmon from his see-through head down to his floating toes. “And you’re asking for a damn whack from the back of my hand!” Fell tried to deliver this, but his knuckles passed through Kensley’s grin. “Why are you hitting yourself?” Kensley taunted with Fell’s voice. Fell damned in utter frustration. Really, a new verb should be dedicated to the old man. He damned with a passion that could make Joan of Arc throw down her chainmail and walk out of church, admitting that her own fervor could never hope to match. It was nearly enough to make Kensley feel an emotion that wasn’t powerful smugness. It wasn’t quite enough. However, Fell was the kind of man that was intellectually fueled by rage. He eyed Kensley’s abandoned body lying on the sofa. Fell fixed Kensley in a blood-curdling glare. “What if I log in to your damn account?” “Good luck with that,” Kensley laughed. “My password is unbreaka—” Fell rose to Kensley’s feet. Kensley in Fell’s body stared at his own face in slack-jawed shock. He started to stammer a question, but Fell cut him off again with, “Your password is ‘kensleyiscool69.’ You’re kinda asking for it.” “Okay, Grandpa,” Kensley sighed. “Whatever. Being an old guy sucks balls anyway.” Fell and Kensley stood opposite each other, circling their own bodies like coyotes eyeing rather edible eagles, and the other way around. They each held out a hand and attempted to break the others in a death grip. Both of them seemed reluctant to break the handshake, as if it would be a display of weakness. Finally, Fell slipped his hand back to his side. “We’ll log in at the same damn time,” he said. “I’ll do yours, and you do me.” Kensley snickered to himself, and then shut his eyes and logged in as Kensley Sundt. At the same damn time, Fell logged in as Fell Linstow. They both felt the fuzzy sensation of their spirits logging into their corporeal forms, and then militaristically collapsed to the Oriental rug in piles of aggressive exhaustion. “I got a damned headache,” Fell groaned. “Me, too,” Kensley responded, to his joy, in his own voice. ____ r/Bennywrites	Logging out was more of a curse than a blessing. There was nothing to "Log Out" to, just an empty void with a menu screen to log back in. There were some benefits I guess; people could fix their visual and audio settings, so the majority of those deaf or blind were suddenly curable overnight. But then came the hackers and scammers. People who would log in as others, booting them off the "server" and quickly changing their password to get back in, sending all of the victim's money to some anonymous bank account and then burning the rest of their assets and documents before logging out somewhere designed to get them horribly killed as soon as the account was recovered by the original owner. "Two Factor" authentication became more of a thing, where people would ask you some key question to verify who you were. Celebrities and world leaders were especially hard to "hack". Simon though... he was a lot more subtle. He hacked our professor while he was sleeping, and got into his home computer with all the final exam answers. Got him back into bed and logged out without him suspecting a thing! Must have made him think he logged out by accident. One of the girls though, Jenny, she found out about our plan to ace the test. The price for not busting us both? I'd have to do her exam too. Hers was at a different time so it worked out... and don't get me wrong, being a girl for a few hours was wild; but when the only thing you get to do is write down test answers, its not that great. I logged back in as myself after, and there's Simon. On his knees. Sucking my... "Uhhh...It was Jenny's idea...?"
	[WP] People have gained the ability to "log out" in real life. But that also means they're able to log in. If you find out someone's password and full name, you gain the ability to log in as them. That is what lead to... this.	Damn is a versatile word, and it happened to be Fell’s favorite. Damn this, damn you, God Himself damn it, those damned millennials, damn it all to hell; Fell loved it all. Recently, he had begun to use it more and more until non-damns in his sentences had to be found with the help of a metaphorical electron microscope. “Damn these damn stupid kids,” he swore. “Give me my damned body back right damn now!” The short red man called Fell Linstow was blustering in a haze of logged-out soup. Fell pointed a ghostly finger at the teen inhabiting his body and shook it in a way that was absolutely terrifying in Fell’s nearsighted eyes and terrifyingly annoying to the boy, who was Kensley. Kensley made a gesture that was immature even for his incredibly low standards. Fell inhaled a scandaled gasp out of his wide, gross old man mouth, followed by a quiet “damn.” Kensley rolled his eyes up to his disappointed God. “Well, then you shouldn’t have left your password literally on the computer. And seriously, ‘password01?’ You’re kinda asking for it, dude.” Fell’s cheeks (and ears, and neck, and really his entire body) would have reddened impossibly beyond his already cherry complexion, but given that he was logged out, his spirit was only able to manage a transparent salmon from his see-through head down to his floating toes. “And you’re asking for a damn whack from the back of my hand!” Fell tried to deliver this, but his knuckles passed through Kensley’s grin. “Why are you hitting yourself?” Kensley taunted with Fell’s voice. Fell damned in utter frustration. Really, a new verb should be dedicated to the old man. He damned with a passion that could make Joan of Arc throw down her chainmail and walk out of church, admitting that her own fervor could never hope to match. It was nearly enough to make Kensley feel an emotion that wasn’t powerful smugness. It wasn’t quite enough. However, Fell was the kind of man that was intellectually fueled by rage. He eyed Kensley’s abandoned body lying on the sofa. Fell fixed Kensley in a blood-curdling glare. “What if I log in to your damn account?” “Good luck with that,” Kensley laughed. “My password is unbreaka—” Fell rose to Kensley’s feet. Kensley in Fell’s body stared at his own face in slack-jawed shock. He started to stammer a question, but Fell cut him off again with, “Your password is ‘kensleyiscool69.’ You’re kinda asking for it.” “Okay, Grandpa,” Kensley sighed. “Whatever. Being an old guy sucks balls anyway.” Fell and Kensley stood opposite each other, circling their own bodies like coyotes eyeing rather edible eagles, and the other way around. They each held out a hand and attempted to break the others in a death grip. Both of them seemed reluctant to break the handshake, as if it would be a display of weakness. Finally, Fell slipped his hand back to his side. “We’ll log in at the same damn time,” he said. “I’ll do yours, and you do me.” Kensley snickered to himself, and then shut his eyes and logged in as Kensley Sundt. At the same damn time, Fell logged in as Fell Linstow. They both felt the fuzzy sensation of their spirits logging into their corporeal forms, and then militaristically collapsed to the Oriental rug in piles of aggressive exhaustion. “I got a damned headache,” Fell groaned. “Me, too,” Kensley responded, to his joy, in his own voice. ____ r/Bennywrites	I stirred out of my bed and rubbed my eyes as they adjusted to the white light flickering in my small cubicle room. I walked to the mirror and frowned at my ragged expression. “What’s the weather like?” I asked. “Good morning Tony, it is currently one hundred forty five degrees Fahrenheit outside. Pollution percentage is ninety-eight point seven-seven percent.” I smiled a little at the news, it had been months since the pollution had lowered at all, even a hundredth of a percent was an ordeal. There would probably be an event to celebrate. I walked over to my VR pod and sat into the seat. Humans had damaged the world, but it could still be fixed. We had to settle for living in quarantine until the planet was livable again. The estimate by the founders was two thousand years, It always upset me to know I would never see the sun. At least I was alive, and they gave me a way to experience the things I would never truly see. The glass pod door closed with a whine, and the smoke flooded up from the bottom of the container. My eyelids closed and my body drifted into a sleep that didn’t reach my mind. The visor fell over my head and the blue text on a black background appeared. “Welcome to Real Life! Patch 3.1.1134.” Slowly the welcome screen faded out of existence and I stretched out my virtual arms, making sure I had connected properly. Instead of my cottage in the mountain region, I starred at metal bars. Confused I turned to the walls and saw cold stone walls clustering around me. Fearing I had been a victim of a malicious prank, I tried to teleport home. “Teleportation is not available from this location,” the system screen informed me. “Finally decided to log in huh? Damn scumbag,” a man in high leveled armor said. I grabbed the bars of my cage with a smile, someone else was here, they could help me understand what was happening. “Yeah there seams to have been a mistake.” “Shut up,” he said slamming his club against the cage. The shock wave knocked me off my feet and onto the ground. I blinked up at him, hurting and confused. ‘Real Life,’ felt every bit like the real world. My head pounded, and I shook it confused. “What? What was that for?” “Captain, he’s logged in.” A man in maxed out gear strode in front of my cage, sneering down at me like I was a rabid dog. “Finally decided to talk, huh?” he asked. “What do you mean? I logged in as soon as I woke up, I logged out in my cottage. There has to be some sort of mistake.” “No mistake here. We have access to the admin logs. You’re character created hundreds of bots and stole all the rewards from the pollution down event.” “What? How could I? I wasn’t logged in, I don’t know a thing about bots. There’s been a mistake!” I exclaimed. “Don’t want to tell us how you did it huh? Fine, you can rot in this cage or the one in the real world. I don’t care.” With those final words the captain and his guard left me in my cell. Alone. Real life was suddenly the same as the real world, isolated and dull. I flicked through my inventory and found that all of my items were gone aside from the soul-bound equipment. With a scowl I slammed the menu shut. \Poink\ A red notification appeared on the lower right hand of my perception, a message. I opened it, holding my breath, hoping that it would help. “Hey there Towknee, My name is Hacker-Man, sorry I stole you’re identity, XD. Thanks for serving my time in the prison cells, hope this message is enough to get the guards to let you out. Probably not though. Sorry I screwed over your ‘Real life’ account, but really thanks for all the items and gold. If you ever get out I’ll be sure to give you a hand. Hacker-Man out! XD.” I grabbed onto the bars and screamed for the guards, they didn’t come until my voice was hoarse. After I showed them the message they scoffed, ‘he has an accomplice.’ They said, not believing for a second I hadn’t done those things. I would get out, and I would make Hacker man pay. &#x200B; /r/QuarkLaserdisc
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	You think furiously in return, “how am I supposed to change my shoes? Who waits til I’m walking to the car?” Stomping back in the house with your pretty, but ultimately useless, flats, and skipping up the steps to miss the creaky broken one in the middle. “REDIRECT” it barks, “Oh oh, that’s fair, that’s my bad,” the familiar after 25 years voice atones from the back of your head, “just don’t stick around here too long bb.” You slide through the front door with just enough room for you and not your escape artist cat, locking the door out of habit as you rush down the hall. “What? What the fuck?” shocked, you’re not sure if you said that out loud, as you’re busy stuffing your feet into the Nikes you bought the last time you thought you were gonna start running again. The voice remains silent while you stand up to look at how poorly your denim skirt goes with sneakers. Shrugging, you reach for a pair of yoga pants - “REDIRECT,” you wince as it barks again, “What are you doing? I said keep moving!” “If I’m gonna run, I’m gonna be comfortable” you quip back, this time - definitely in your head. You do hear the bush under your front window rustling loudly. “Just the wind,” you tell yourself. “You might intuit that it’s not the wind,” the voice’s constantly interrupting voice upturning at the end. “Stop talking to me like I’m stupid and tell me what’s going on,” pulling your yoga pants all the way up, and admiring your ass in the mirror. “Seriously, you need to m- REDIRECT,” the unmistakeable creak of that second front step set the hairs on the back of your neck to attention. “You shouldn’t leave from the front entrance.” “What the fuck is going on,” you anxiously grab all of the things you had already gathered to leave the first time: your sling purse with your phone inside and your keys jingling on the strap. You quickly reach up to silence their sound, and tuck them into the pocket instead. “Good girl, you’re finally listening to me.” You could hear a scraping at the front door. Your cat meows repeatedly Shocked at the change in tone, “I almost always take your advice. Can you take this seriously?” The scraping stops. The meowing does not. “You’re stressed, I’m only trying to help.” ... You wait for this familiar, if not erratic, assistant to explain itself. After a few more meows, “is that it?” The meows stop. “Google is having trouble connecting to wifi. Check your connection and try again later.” “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” You definitely said that out loud. “Yeah, that new google update is some shit,” the intruder, wielding a baseball bat, bemused.	I was ready to go out but the voice stopped me. I hadn’t heard the voice for three years and then there it was speaking to me again with its bell like tone. “Hey, you may want to put on your best runners.” It said. I was dressed in a purple satin evening gown given to me by my aunt. When she found out that I was going to accept my award for conducting peace negotiations in one of the bashed up trouser suits I always wore, she supplied me with the dress and a pair of matching heels. I didn’t recognise myself when I looked in the long mirror in my hall, in fact I looked like an overpainted, overdressed wax figure but I didn’t want to snub my aunt so I decided that I would wear it with pride. She was there when I was sixteen and hallucinating that the floor was covered in boiling hot tar that would burn my feet if I got out of bed and walked on it. My father couldn’t cope, but she was there. After I recovered, and the voices and visions that frightened me had mostly gone away, one voice remained, I told no one about this voice, not even my aunt because this voice (or Emma as I called it) told me everything I needed to know, she had sheltered me from many dangers and had even successfully predicted the future. So when she spoke I listened. I put my bag and keys down and went to turn back to get my trainers. ‘It would be unfavourable to turn back.’ Emma said. ‘Ok’ I said, walking backwards to the shoe rack being careful not to turn my head even slightly. I put my hands behind my back and felt for my trainers, when I found them I slipped my heels off and put the trainers on. ‘Well done.’ Emma said. ‘Now run and keep running, don’t go to the awards ceremony don’t go anywhere you will be expected to be, just run.’ ‘Why’ I asked her. ‘I was responsible for keeping your visions and voices locked away inside your head but they escaped when you stopped seeing them and now they want revenge for their imprisonment. If you look behind you, you will see them and you will be too afraid to run.’ I have been running for six days.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	"Hurry up, get your shoes on... Tortillas, olives, and cheese would be perfect... We can use that grilled chicken and the leftover vegetables for a wrap." "I'm not listening Jarvis. When we did the grocery shopping you agreed to bacon cheeseburgers tonight, and damnit I've been looking forward to them all week." Don't call me "Jarvis" asshole. If you can show enough restraint to not drown everything in dressing you can even get a soda. A full liter too, not just a 12oz can this time" "Whatever, Alfred. Why do we need to go shopping anyway? I've already told you, We've got everything we need here already, and we're having bacon cheeseburgers." "Just do it ya ungrateful fuck. Do I need to remind you that since I took control of your diet you haven't had any neuropathy, and you're down 20 lbs? Get your best running shoes on and let's get going." I finally gave in and laced up the best and only running shoes to be found in my mess of a closet. "Can we have bacon cheeseburgers tomorrow then? I really have been looking forward to them all week?" I asked earnestly. I knew getting healthy would mean some unsatisfying choices had to be made, but I'm a firm believer in a 'cheat day'. "Sure, whatever...just hurry up already" "Im ready, calm down Ned, you're like a naggy girlfriend geeze. Let me just grab my earpiece. I hate the way people stare when we forget it. It took me long enough to get over the feeling I was crazy, and people laughing about me talking to myself doesn't really help with that" "Ugh, you and this superhero bullshit. Alright fine, have it your way. You know how Jarvis, or Alfred, or Ned will tell the hero the odds of something working or not and it'll make them re-think their choices in order to save their life? This is just like that. The odds are not in your favor to be in this house for another second, now get running damnit!" "All right, fine. If there's an axe-murderer in my closet just tell me next time and say I'm in danger. You know how I get about my food." I set off at a slow jog until I got loose and broke into a faster pace, my runners slapping the pavement in rhythm as my diaphragm contracted rapidly in my chest. I was a few blocks away from the deli when the cramp started and forced me back into a jog. By the time I got to the deli I had slowed to a walk. Catching my breath outside the store I grumbled "Couldn't tell me to grab a water could ya? You're a sadist ya know that? You just love to watch me suffer, I'm gonna start calling you 'Felicity' from now on." "Errm, excuse me but did you just say my name?" Startled to hear a woman's voice instead of the usual 'know it all bro' voice i was used to, I turned around and was face to face with a tired looking, but beautiful blonde haired woman with smokey green eyes and a captivating smile. "Oh, I'm sorry, No I didn't mean to. I ugh, ooh this is embarrassing. I was ugh talking to myself actually...A Green Arrow joke." My face visibly blushed as my voice trailed off to finish a sentence I immediately wished I could take back. In my embarrassment my ears began to get hot and someone said something lightly. It didn't sound like my conscience, or imaginary friend, or guy in the chair, whatever you want to call him. It almost sounded like Felicity said something about her type, but it couldn't have been meant for me. If anyone did say anything it was drowned out by the sounds of my heart ricocheting violently off my rib cage. "I'm sorry, but did you say something"? I asked her sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I was ermmm talking to myself too I guess... Hey, nice shoes!" She half shouted in a clear attempt to change the subject. I looked down and saw we both were wearing the same running shoes, and a realization smacked me in the head like a piano falling from a skyscraper in those old cartoons. "Hey so, I know we've just met, but what are the chances you want to come over for dinner tonight? Today's my cheat day and I'm really craving a bacon cheese burger." The seconds before her response stretched for what felt like minutes as she weighed her options. Suddenly as if an internal conflict had been fought and won a smile lit up her face as she nodded and said "I've been craving one myself all day, but my conscience talked me into taking a run here for something healthy instead...that sounds really good." "Awesome, lets grab some soda quick while we're here, that'll show our conscience who's in control.". I joked as we walked back into the store to find our favorite snacks for our cheat day. As I opened the door for her to walk in 'know it all bro' was back, but his voice was light and playful this time. "Don't get too cocky, we were always going to have bacon cheeseburgers tonight... What type of 'guy in the chair' would I be if I didn't make you work for it a little bit though?	I was ready to go out but the voice stopped me. I hadn’t heard the voice for three years and then there it was speaking to me again with its bell like tone. “Hey, you may want to put on your best runners.” It said. I was dressed in a purple satin evening gown given to me by my aunt. When she found out that I was going to accept my award for conducting peace negotiations in one of the bashed up trouser suits I always wore, she supplied me with the dress and a pair of matching heels. I didn’t recognise myself when I looked in the long mirror in my hall, in fact I looked like an overpainted, overdressed wax figure but I didn’t want to snub my aunt so I decided that I would wear it with pride. She was there when I was sixteen and hallucinating that the floor was covered in boiling hot tar that would burn my feet if I got out of bed and walked on it. My father couldn’t cope, but she was there. After I recovered, and the voices and visions that frightened me had mostly gone away, one voice remained, I told no one about this voice, not even my aunt because this voice (or Emma as I called it) told me everything I needed to know, she had sheltered me from many dangers and had even successfully predicted the future. So when she spoke I listened. I put my bag and keys down and went to turn back to get my trainers. ‘It would be unfavourable to turn back.’ Emma said. ‘Ok’ I said, walking backwards to the shoe rack being careful not to turn my head even slightly. I put my hands behind my back and felt for my trainers, when I found them I slipped my heels off and put the trainers on. ‘Well done.’ Emma said. ‘Now run and keep running, don’t go to the awards ceremony don’t go anywhere you will be expected to be, just run.’ ‘Why’ I asked her. ‘I was responsible for keeping your visions and voices locked away inside your head but they escaped when you stopped seeing them and now they want revenge for their imprisonment. If you look behind you, you will see them and you will be too afraid to run.’ I have been running for six days.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	You know the concept of a wingman, right? Your friend that helps you in social settings? Well, I don't have a wingman. I have a wingmind. My entire life I have had this voice in my head that gives me advice right before an event that would dramatically change my life. First time I heard it was when I was 6, sitting in the car on a beautiful autumn day. My mom and dad were dropping something off and left me in the car in front of their friend's house. The AC was on and it wasn't gonna take longer than a couple minutes. All I heard was "lock the doors". I clicked it, then I saw this older man try to open the door. He wanted to take me. I couldn't tell my parents, they'd think I'm insane. But I haven't disobeyed that voice since. &#x200B; Flash forward 16 years, I'm 22 and living on my own. I work in sales and have a standard 9-5. I planned to go for a walk and just relax before going to bed since I have a big meeting tomorrow with my district manager to potentially get a big promotion. I'm getting ready to walk out where I hear the voice say, "You might wanna put on your best runners." It's never guided me the wrong way, so I take my sneakers off and put on my running shoes. &#x200B; About 10 minutes into my walk, I start to hear rustling in the bushes near me. I see two eyes, dark red glaring at me, barely visible in the dark. I think nothing of it, expecting one of my neighbor's kids to jump out and scare me. They liked doing that, but only during the day. Maybe they were getting a little more daring. I keep walking down the street and decide to turn back. Passing the bush my neighbors were hiding in, there were no eyes this time. "Probably went inside, it is getting late," I say to myself. Then I hear it, the unmistakable voice of Chris, the weirdest of my neighbor's kids. But he sounded different, he sounded more menacing. "Him." &#x200B; I heard claws scratching the ground, and I heard the voice in my head again, "Run, you idiot." I just started running, not looking back. I didn't know what the hell it was, but it was gaining on me. All I had was a block left to get to my house and grab my gun, if that would even help me. I rounded the corner and there he was. But this wasn't Chris, this was a full-grown demon, buff as hell and ready to kill. I didn't know what else to do, I don't know how it got in front of me, but there was no way I could get in my house now. But before I could even act, he fell over, a bright white sword in his back. "Oh great, now someone else gets to kill me," I think. Until the figure steps out, a man I had never seen. "They found you, if you don't come with me, they will never stop hunting you down and you will die." I knew his voice but I didn't know how, I had never met this man, until I heard the same, familiar voice in my head. "Go with him now," the voice in my head was this man's voice. &#x200B; &#x200B; Go easy on me, I've only done a few of these and I'm not that great at writing.	I was ready to go out but the voice stopped me. I hadn’t heard the voice for three years and then there it was speaking to me again with its bell like tone. “Hey, you may want to put on your best runners.” It said. I was dressed in a purple satin evening gown given to me by my aunt. When she found out that I was going to accept my award for conducting peace negotiations in one of the bashed up trouser suits I always wore, she supplied me with the dress and a pair of matching heels. I didn’t recognise myself when I looked in the long mirror in my hall, in fact I looked like an overpainted, overdressed wax figure but I didn’t want to snub my aunt so I decided that I would wear it with pride. She was there when I was sixteen and hallucinating that the floor was covered in boiling hot tar that would burn my feet if I got out of bed and walked on it. My father couldn’t cope, but she was there. After I recovered, and the voices and visions that frightened me had mostly gone away, one voice remained, I told no one about this voice, not even my aunt because this voice (or Emma as I called it) told me everything I needed to know, she had sheltered me from many dangers and had even successfully predicted the future. So when she spoke I listened. I put my bag and keys down and went to turn back to get my trainers. ‘It would be unfavourable to turn back.’ Emma said. ‘Ok’ I said, walking backwards to the shoe rack being careful not to turn my head even slightly. I put my hands behind my back and felt for my trainers, when I found them I slipped my heels off and put the trainers on. ‘Well done.’ Emma said. ‘Now run and keep running, don’t go to the awards ceremony don’t go anywhere you will be expected to be, just run.’ ‘Why’ I asked her. ‘I was responsible for keeping your visions and voices locked away inside your head but they escaped when you stopped seeing them and now they want revenge for their imprisonment. If you look behind you, you will see them and you will be too afraid to run.’ I have been running for six days.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	"Move" "Move now, Faster" The voice in the back of my head whispers as I run down the street. The sense of urgency making me run faster as the world blurs, too fast. Houses become blurs, as the screams of my neighbors begin echoing all around all. The sounds of bone being broken, flesh torn off, and cries of mercy makes me stop and freeze up. " You need to keep running, you are not strong enough to face him yet" the voice pleads, as the sounds of a thousand whispers begin enter my ears drowning out the lone voice in my head. "Hey Jon good buddy why did you run?" a familiar voices calls behind as the whispering of cosmic secrets try to their best to seduce. "I thought we were gonna have lasagna and watch some tv" the voice though familiar sounds distorted. "Had to chase you all the way here, and you know how exercising makes me hungry" I felt a chill down my spine as i notice all the screaming stop and the world is dead silent. "You know I can't have you leave me Jon, you complete me" I feel the presence come closer as the whispers become screams, and something grabs me and turns me around. I see a fat orange cat sitting down looking at me "Well Jon let head back to the house Odie is waiting on us" "Odie is dead Jon remember" the voice somehow breaks through the whispering, "He killed him long time ago , You need to run before he takes control again, I won't be able to chip away at his control again I am just no longer strong enough" "OH IS THAT LIZ I HEAR" Garfield calls out breaking my thoughts, as I watch my cat slowly transform into towering mass of flesh and bone. " TELL THE WHORE YOU ARE MINE AND MINE ALONE, you complete me Jon and I can't have no one take you away from me" &#x200B; &#x200B; Truthfully I have no idea where I am going with this, but recently been lurking in the r/imsorryjon and found the fanmade mythos to be amazing. If anyone can use this and make it better please do	I was ready to go out but the voice stopped me. I hadn’t heard the voice for three years and then there it was speaking to me again with its bell like tone. “Hey, you may want to put on your best runners.” It said. I was dressed in a purple satin evening gown given to me by my aunt. When she found out that I was going to accept my award for conducting peace negotiations in one of the bashed up trouser suits I always wore, she supplied me with the dress and a pair of matching heels. I didn’t recognise myself when I looked in the long mirror in my hall, in fact I looked like an overpainted, overdressed wax figure but I didn’t want to snub my aunt so I decided that I would wear it with pride. She was there when I was sixteen and hallucinating that the floor was covered in boiling hot tar that would burn my feet if I got out of bed and walked on it. My father couldn’t cope, but she was there. After I recovered, and the voices and visions that frightened me had mostly gone away, one voice remained, I told no one about this voice, not even my aunt because this voice (or Emma as I called it) told me everything I needed to know, she had sheltered me from many dangers and had even successfully predicted the future. So when she spoke I listened. I put my bag and keys down and went to turn back to get my trainers. ‘It would be unfavourable to turn back.’ Emma said. ‘Ok’ I said, walking backwards to the shoe rack being careful not to turn my head even slightly. I put my hands behind my back and felt for my trainers, when I found them I slipped my heels off and put the trainers on. ‘Well done.’ Emma said. ‘Now run and keep running, don’t go to the awards ceremony don’t go anywhere you will be expected to be, just run.’ ‘Why’ I asked her. ‘I was responsible for keeping your visions and voices locked away inside your head but they escaped when you stopped seeing them and now they want revenge for their imprisonment. If you look behind you, you will see them and you will be too afraid to run.’ I have been running for six days.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	\[WP\] You have a voice in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavourable to turn back." I don't really doubt the voice. Why would I? I've gotten out of too much danger to disregard anything that it says. without looking back, I simply yank on my Nikes and walk stiffly out the door. I don't know what is behind me, but it's probably an alien tentacle fasklfjsa;fasdfj monster intent on my delicious pancreas. It's only after I'm past my driveway that I realise I reflexively put on my EMT jacket as I was going out the door. I'm just about to turn back out of habit, when the voice almost yells into my lower brain. It is very much against having me go back into my house. Yep, it's probably a fjasfasklfjsa;fasdfj monster. No biggie, I was only going down the road to the Bottle'O for some grog. I'm at the Cornady St intersection when the voice in my head tells me to go left. the Bottle'O is straight down the street. By this time, I'm pretty interested, so I follow it's orders. Ten metres down the street, the voice tells me to run like I'm on fire. Three minutes later, I'm about a kilometre down the road, and begging the voice to end me before I receive lung induced rib fractures. "Keep going". "Fuckn oath" I wheeze. My heart rate is a healthy a;fjs;flsdjf beats a minute now, and I've probably earned more than a rum and coke. Suddenly, I hear screaming from the park on my left. "This is it". I'm already running toward the screams, and get there to find a distraught mother cradling a purple three year old girl. Instantly going into paramedic mode, I grab the child and begin emergency care. It turns out the poor kiddie swallowed a marble. I almost pass out with relief when it pops out of her mouth and hits me in the left eye. The girl drags in deep breaths and promptly begins to wail. I hand the child back to her crying mother and slump onto the concrete with my back against a rubbish bin. Had I been three seconds later, the girl would have died.	I was ready to go out but the voice stopped me. I hadn’t heard the voice for three years and then there it was speaking to me again with its bell like tone. “Hey, you may want to put on your best runners.” It said. I was dressed in a purple satin evening gown given to me by my aunt. When she found out that I was going to accept my award for conducting peace negotiations in one of the bashed up trouser suits I always wore, she supplied me with the dress and a pair of matching heels. I didn’t recognise myself when I looked in the long mirror in my hall, in fact I looked like an overpainted, overdressed wax figure but I didn’t want to snub my aunt so I decided that I would wear it with pride. She was there when I was sixteen and hallucinating that the floor was covered in boiling hot tar that would burn my feet if I got out of bed and walked on it. My father couldn’t cope, but she was there. After I recovered, and the voices and visions that frightened me had mostly gone away, one voice remained, I told no one about this voice, not even my aunt because this voice (or Emma as I called it) told me everything I needed to know, she had sheltered me from many dangers and had even successfully predicted the future. So when she spoke I listened. I put my bag and keys down and went to turn back to get my trainers. ‘It would be unfavourable to turn back.’ Emma said. ‘Ok’ I said, walking backwards to the shoe rack being careful not to turn my head even slightly. I put my hands behind my back and felt for my trainers, when I found them I slipped my heels off and put the trainers on. ‘Well done.’ Emma said. ‘Now run and keep running, don’t go to the awards ceremony don’t go anywhere you will be expected to be, just run.’ ‘Why’ I asked her. ‘I was responsible for keeping your visions and voices locked away inside your head but they escaped when you stopped seeing them and now they want revenge for their imprisonment. If you look behind you, you will see them and you will be too afraid to run.’ I have been running for six days.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	Joanne had to go out to run some errands. "On the way there, I might grab some breakfast as well. I'm starving." The voice had been eerily quiet for the last weeks. The young woman had grown accostumed to her invisible companion, after years of back and forth conversation. Except, it was only inside her head. Having successfully decided on her usual jeans and something outfit, she stopped by her pile of shoes near the entrance door. Just then, the voice resonated with some urgency. "You may want to put on your best runners." Joanne jumped, startled. "Wow. You scared me." "I'm sorry." her companion apologized in a higher pitch than before. "You should get going." "Sure, sure. But I guess I forgot my glasses in my nightstand." - she said, wearing her runners. - "I will have to go get them first." "It would be unfavorable to turn back." - the voice sounded deeper, almost somber. A cold shiver went down Joanne's spine and her skin crawled, as she heard light steps behind her. She lived alone. In one motion, she opened her door and the screen after it, not even minding to close it back. Running down the steps, she turned left and kept running in the sidewalk, while she heard her door and screen opening and closing again. "Keep running!" - her companion sounded distressed again. - "Don't try to look!" The hair on Joanne's neck raised. Something was after her. Her bag was flyng on the side of her body, painfully hitting her. She kept her pace, panting and sweating as she tried to run as faster as she could. Joanne started having trouble to breath, but she was too terrified to go slower. Moments later, when she thought she could not keep going anymore, the voice spoke again. "You can go back to walking now. But don't stop yet." She reduced her frantic running to a jog, and then a walk. Her legs started to feel weak and she was tired. She had reached the outskirts of the town. Taking deep breaths she asked: "Can I look back now?" "Yes, but I would not recommend it." A strong smell of smoke reached her nose. And...something mettalic. "Death?" - she asked the voice. "Yes." "Where? Who?" There was a small pause, and then a tiny, small sob. Her companion sounded like it was crying, as it said in a hushed voice: "Everywhere. Everyone."	I was ready to go out but the voice stopped me. I hadn’t heard the voice for three years and then there it was speaking to me again with its bell like tone. “Hey, you may want to put on your best runners.” It said. I was dressed in a purple satin evening gown given to me by my aunt. When she found out that I was going to accept my award for conducting peace negotiations in one of the bashed up trouser suits I always wore, she supplied me with the dress and a pair of matching heels. I didn’t recognise myself when I looked in the long mirror in my hall, in fact I looked like an overpainted, overdressed wax figure but I didn’t want to snub my aunt so I decided that I would wear it with pride. She was there when I was sixteen and hallucinating that the floor was covered in boiling hot tar that would burn my feet if I got out of bed and walked on it. My father couldn’t cope, but she was there. After I recovered, and the voices and visions that frightened me had mostly gone away, one voice remained, I told no one about this voice, not even my aunt because this voice (or Emma as I called it) told me everything I needed to know, she had sheltered me from many dangers and had even successfully predicted the future. So when she spoke I listened. I put my bag and keys down and went to turn back to get my trainers. ‘It would be unfavourable to turn back.’ Emma said. ‘Ok’ I said, walking backwards to the shoe rack being careful not to turn my head even slightly. I put my hands behind my back and felt for my trainers, when I found them I slipped my heels off and put the trainers on. ‘Well done.’ Emma said. ‘Now run and keep running, don’t go to the awards ceremony don’t go anywhere you will be expected to be, just run.’ ‘Why’ I asked her. ‘I was responsible for keeping your visions and voices locked away inside your head but they escaped when you stopped seeing them and now they want revenge for their imprisonment. If you look behind you, you will see them and you will be too afraid to run.’ I have been running for six days.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	"Hurry up, get your shoes on... Tortillas, olives, and cheese would be perfect... We can use that grilled chicken and the leftover vegetables for a wrap." "I'm not listening Jarvis. When we did the grocery shopping you agreed to bacon cheeseburgers tonight, and damnit I've been looking forward to them all week." Don't call me "Jarvis" asshole. If you can show enough restraint to not drown everything in dressing you can even get a soda. A full liter too, not just a 12oz can this time" "Whatever, Alfred. Why do we need to go shopping anyway? I've already told you, We've got everything we need here already, and we're having bacon cheeseburgers." "Just do it ya ungrateful fuck. Do I need to remind you that since I took control of your diet you haven't had any neuropathy, and you're down 20 lbs? Get your best running shoes on and let's get going." I finally gave in and laced up the best and only running shoes to be found in my mess of a closet. "Can we have bacon cheeseburgers tomorrow then? I really have been looking forward to them all week?" I asked earnestly. I knew getting healthy would mean some unsatisfying choices had to be made, but I'm a firm believer in a 'cheat day'. "Sure, whatever...just hurry up already" "Im ready, calm down Ned, you're like a naggy girlfriend geeze. Let me just grab my earpiece. I hate the way people stare when we forget it. It took me long enough to get over the feeling I was crazy, and people laughing about me talking to myself doesn't really help with that" "Ugh, you and this superhero bullshit. Alright fine, have it your way. You know how Jarvis, or Alfred, or Ned will tell the hero the odds of something working or not and it'll make them re-think their choices in order to save their life? This is just like that. The odds are not in your favor to be in this house for another second, now get running damnit!" "All right, fine. If there's an axe-murderer in my closet just tell me next time and say I'm in danger. You know how I get about my food." I set off at a slow jog until I got loose and broke into a faster pace, my runners slapping the pavement in rhythm as my diaphragm contracted rapidly in my chest. I was a few blocks away from the deli when the cramp started and forced me back into a jog. By the time I got to the deli I had slowed to a walk. Catching my breath outside the store I grumbled "Couldn't tell me to grab a water could ya? You're a sadist ya know that? You just love to watch me suffer, I'm gonna start calling you 'Felicity' from now on." "Errm, excuse me but did you just say my name?" Startled to hear a woman's voice instead of the usual 'know it all bro' voice i was used to, I turned around and was face to face with a tired looking, but beautiful blonde haired woman with smokey green eyes and a captivating smile. "Oh, I'm sorry, No I didn't mean to. I ugh, ooh this is embarrassing. I was ugh talking to myself actually...A Green Arrow joke." My face visibly blushed as my voice trailed off to finish a sentence I immediately wished I could take back. In my embarrassment my ears began to get hot and someone said something lightly. It didn't sound like my conscience, or imaginary friend, or guy in the chair, whatever you want to call him. It almost sounded like Felicity said something about her type, but it couldn't have been meant for me. If anyone did say anything it was drowned out by the sounds of my heart ricocheting violently off my rib cage. "I'm sorry, but did you say something"? I asked her sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I was ermmm talking to myself too I guess... Hey, nice shoes!" She half shouted in a clear attempt to change the subject. I looked down and saw we both were wearing the same running shoes, and a realization smacked me in the head like a piano falling from a skyscraper in those old cartoons. "Hey so, I know we've just met, but what are the chances you want to come over for dinner tonight? Today's my cheat day and I'm really craving a bacon cheese burger." The seconds before her response stretched for what felt like minutes as she weighed her options. Suddenly as if an internal conflict had been fought and won a smile lit up her face as she nodded and said "I've been craving one myself all day, but my conscience talked me into taking a run here for something healthy instead...that sounds really good." "Awesome, lets grab some soda quick while we're here, that'll show our conscience who's in control.". I joked as we walked back into the store to find our favorite snacks for our cheat day. As I opened the door for her to walk in 'know it all bro' was back, but his voice was light and playful this time. "Don't get too cocky, we were always going to have bacon cheeseburgers tonight... What type of 'guy in the chair' would I be if I didn't make you work for it a little bit though?	“Put on your best runners.” I looked up in surprise at Him. “Pardon?” I asked, turning the volume on the tv down a bit. “I said put on your runners, you hairy chupacabra. “ He stabbed my shoulder with that tiny pitchfork of his, it hardly felt like an ant bite. “Sure buddy, go off.” I flicked him away like I usually would. A faint harp played near my left ear. “You too?” I asked Her. “For once i must agree with him” She said in her mousey, delicate voice. I could feel my brows knotting as they did when I was concerned. Carefully, I stood and put my shoes on, leaving the tv on. He grabbed a strand of me hair and pulled. “Betta run.” I looked over to my other shoulder where She sat. She simply nodded. “You.....you two never agree” I started, turning back to my seat. With more force than I thought They could muster I was pulled back. “Don’t turn back. Run” They spoke in unison. Sheer terror contracted me. I farted out, grabbing my phone and wallet. They clung on to my shoulders, speaking in unison, with a hive mind like never before. As I kept running a slight fear pinpricked my back, quickly escalating to dread and horror. The noise akin to an airplane quietly hummed, I assumed it was mental white noise. I quickly stole a bike and pedaled last the bridge and into the city. “Flank. Left.” They spoke together, Their eerie, monotonous voice sending a shiver down my spine. I turned left and the vague humming noise grew louder. I’d been riding for almost five minutes now and the hum seemed....real. Distant screams shook my thoughts. I looked back to see people marveling at the sky. A gray speck larger than a quarter was hurtling towards the earth 10 miles away, only five miles from my cottage. A nuclear warhead. I had 10 minutes to get out, from my estimates. I continued to pedal, faster now. I pushed my way past the second bridge when the shockwave hit, and a bright flash unfurled behind me. The last thing I could hear was screams before falling into the dark abyss
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	"Hurry up, get your shoes on... Tortillas, olives, and cheese would be perfect... We can use that grilled chicken and the leftover vegetables for a wrap." "I'm not listening Jarvis. When we did the grocery shopping you agreed to bacon cheeseburgers tonight, and damnit I've been looking forward to them all week." Don't call me "Jarvis" asshole. If you can show enough restraint to not drown everything in dressing you can even get a soda. A full liter too, not just a 12oz can this time" "Whatever, Alfred. Why do we need to go shopping anyway? I've already told you, We've got everything we need here already, and we're having bacon cheeseburgers." "Just do it ya ungrateful fuck. Do I need to remind you that since I took control of your diet you haven't had any neuropathy, and you're down 20 lbs? Get your best running shoes on and let's get going." I finally gave in and laced up the best and only running shoes to be found in my mess of a closet. "Can we have bacon cheeseburgers tomorrow then? I really have been looking forward to them all week?" I asked earnestly. I knew getting healthy would mean some unsatisfying choices had to be made, but I'm a firm believer in a 'cheat day'. "Sure, whatever...just hurry up already" "Im ready, calm down Ned, you're like a naggy girlfriend geeze. Let me just grab my earpiece. I hate the way people stare when we forget it. It took me long enough to get over the feeling I was crazy, and people laughing about me talking to myself doesn't really help with that" "Ugh, you and this superhero bullshit. Alright fine, have it your way. You know how Jarvis, or Alfred, or Ned will tell the hero the odds of something working or not and it'll make them re-think their choices in order to save their life? This is just like that. The odds are not in your favor to be in this house for another second, now get running damnit!" "All right, fine. If there's an axe-murderer in my closet just tell me next time and say I'm in danger. You know how I get about my food." I set off at a slow jog until I got loose and broke into a faster pace, my runners slapping the pavement in rhythm as my diaphragm contracted rapidly in my chest. I was a few blocks away from the deli when the cramp started and forced me back into a jog. By the time I got to the deli I had slowed to a walk. Catching my breath outside the store I grumbled "Couldn't tell me to grab a water could ya? You're a sadist ya know that? You just love to watch me suffer, I'm gonna start calling you 'Felicity' from now on." "Errm, excuse me but did you just say my name?" Startled to hear a woman's voice instead of the usual 'know it all bro' voice i was used to, I turned around and was face to face with a tired looking, but beautiful blonde haired woman with smokey green eyes and a captivating smile. "Oh, I'm sorry, No I didn't mean to. I ugh, ooh this is embarrassing. I was ugh talking to myself actually...A Green Arrow joke." My face visibly blushed as my voice trailed off to finish a sentence I immediately wished I could take back. In my embarrassment my ears began to get hot and someone said something lightly. It didn't sound like my conscience, or imaginary friend, or guy in the chair, whatever you want to call him. It almost sounded like Felicity said something about her type, but it couldn't have been meant for me. If anyone did say anything it was drowned out by the sounds of my heart ricocheting violently off my rib cage. "I'm sorry, but did you say something"? I asked her sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I was ermmm talking to myself too I guess... Hey, nice shoes!" She half shouted in a clear attempt to change the subject. I looked down and saw we both were wearing the same running shoes, and a realization smacked me in the head like a piano falling from a skyscraper in those old cartoons. "Hey so, I know we've just met, but what are the chances you want to come over for dinner tonight? Today's my cheat day and I'm really craving a bacon cheese burger." The seconds before her response stretched for what felt like minutes as she weighed her options. Suddenly as if an internal conflict had been fought and won a smile lit up her face as she nodded and said "I've been craving one myself all day, but my conscience talked me into taking a run here for something healthy instead...that sounds really good." "Awesome, lets grab some soda quick while we're here, that'll show our conscience who's in control.". I joked as we walked back into the store to find our favorite snacks for our cheat day. As I opened the door for her to walk in 'know it all bro' was back, but his voice was light and playful this time. "Don't get too cocky, we were always going to have bacon cheeseburgers tonight... What type of 'guy in the chair' would I be if I didn't make you work for it a little bit though?	New York, USA September 26th, 1983 "You might want to put your best runners" Tom waked up in sweat when he heard The Voice. It always had talked like that, almost like a separate entity inside his head. Tom had heard The Voice throughout all of his life. It acted as some sort of guide or Oracle, which told him advice in what sounded like riddles. When he followed whatever random advice The Voice spat out, nothing happened at all. When he did, it all came at him like a Pastor move in chess. He had learned to trust It the hard way. But never had It ever spoken to him in the middle of the night, at 2AM. Never so clear. And never so desperate. Primal instincts took hold of Tom. He putted on his best (and only runners) and some bag for emergencies he had lying around. He was heading through the door when he remembered a thing. The photo of his deceased wife. The only one he ever loved, and the ultimate price for not listening to The Voice. But just when he started heading in for it, The Voice spoke for the last time: "It would be unfavorable to turn back" That wasn't even a riddle. That was just a plain "Go!". And he did. Tom ran like never before. Running for his life from a threat he didn't know. Then he stopped, dead on his tracks, paralysed by the feeling of fear. It was quiet. Completely quiet. New York was never quiet. Almost as if 6 million people were holding their breath. And then it all went to fucking hell. Alarms blared in the streets. And millions of people all over the state went out of their houses. Running. Tom ran too. He looked up, praying for his life. But he only saw the skies full of jets and missiles. The night turned to day, and the Mushroom Cloud loomed over the cities of the world for the second and last time.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	"Hurry up, get your shoes on... Tortillas, olives, and cheese would be perfect... We can use that grilled chicken and the leftover vegetables for a wrap." "I'm not listening Jarvis. When we did the grocery shopping you agreed to bacon cheeseburgers tonight, and damnit I've been looking forward to them all week." Don't call me "Jarvis" asshole. If you can show enough restraint to not drown everything in dressing you can even get a soda. A full liter too, not just a 12oz can this time" "Whatever, Alfred. Why do we need to go shopping anyway? I've already told you, We've got everything we need here already, and we're having bacon cheeseburgers." "Just do it ya ungrateful fuck. Do I need to remind you that since I took control of your diet you haven't had any neuropathy, and you're down 20 lbs? Get your best running shoes on and let's get going." I finally gave in and laced up the best and only running shoes to be found in my mess of a closet. "Can we have bacon cheeseburgers tomorrow then? I really have been looking forward to them all week?" I asked earnestly. I knew getting healthy would mean some unsatisfying choices had to be made, but I'm a firm believer in a 'cheat day'. "Sure, whatever...just hurry up already" "Im ready, calm down Ned, you're like a naggy girlfriend geeze. Let me just grab my earpiece. I hate the way people stare when we forget it. It took me long enough to get over the feeling I was crazy, and people laughing about me talking to myself doesn't really help with that" "Ugh, you and this superhero bullshit. Alright fine, have it your way. You know how Jarvis, or Alfred, or Ned will tell the hero the odds of something working or not and it'll make them re-think their choices in order to save their life? This is just like that. The odds are not in your favor to be in this house for another second, now get running damnit!" "All right, fine. If there's an axe-murderer in my closet just tell me next time and say I'm in danger. You know how I get about my food." I set off at a slow jog until I got loose and broke into a faster pace, my runners slapping the pavement in rhythm as my diaphragm contracted rapidly in my chest. I was a few blocks away from the deli when the cramp started and forced me back into a jog. By the time I got to the deli I had slowed to a walk. Catching my breath outside the store I grumbled "Couldn't tell me to grab a water could ya? You're a sadist ya know that? You just love to watch me suffer, I'm gonna start calling you 'Felicity' from now on." "Errm, excuse me but did you just say my name?" Startled to hear a woman's voice instead of the usual 'know it all bro' voice i was used to, I turned around and was face to face with a tired looking, but beautiful blonde haired woman with smokey green eyes and a captivating smile. "Oh, I'm sorry, No I didn't mean to. I ugh, ooh this is embarrassing. I was ugh talking to myself actually...A Green Arrow joke." My face visibly blushed as my voice trailed off to finish a sentence I immediately wished I could take back. In my embarrassment my ears began to get hot and someone said something lightly. It didn't sound like my conscience, or imaginary friend, or guy in the chair, whatever you want to call him. It almost sounded like Felicity said something about her type, but it couldn't have been meant for me. If anyone did say anything it was drowned out by the sounds of my heart ricocheting violently off my rib cage. "I'm sorry, but did you say something"? I asked her sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I was ermmm talking to myself too I guess... Hey, nice shoes!" She half shouted in a clear attempt to change the subject. I looked down and saw we both were wearing the same running shoes, and a realization smacked me in the head like a piano falling from a skyscraper in those old cartoons. "Hey so, I know we've just met, but what are the chances you want to come over for dinner tonight? Today's my cheat day and I'm really craving a bacon cheese burger." The seconds before her response stretched for what felt like minutes as she weighed her options. Suddenly as if an internal conflict had been fought and won a smile lit up her face as she nodded and said "I've been craving one myself all day, but my conscience talked me into taking a run here for something healthy instead...that sounds really good." "Awesome, lets grab some soda quick while we're here, that'll show our conscience who's in control.". I joked as we walked back into the store to find our favorite snacks for our cheat day. As I opened the door for her to walk in 'know it all bro' was back, but his voice was light and playful this time. "Don't get too cocky, we were always going to have bacon cheeseburgers tonight... What type of 'guy in the chair' would I be if I didn't make you work for it a little bit though?	You think furiously in return, “how am I supposed to change my shoes? Who waits til I’m walking to the car?” Stomping back in the house with your pretty, but ultimately useless, flats, and skipping up the steps to miss the creaky broken one in the middle. “REDIRECT” it barks, “Oh oh, that’s fair, that’s my bad,” the familiar after 25 years voice atones from the back of your head, “just don’t stick around here too long bb.” You slide through the front door with just enough room for you and not your escape artist cat, locking the door out of habit as you rush down the hall. “What? What the fuck?” shocked, you’re not sure if you said that out loud, as you’re busy stuffing your feet into the Nikes you bought the last time you thought you were gonna start running again. The voice remains silent while you stand up to look at how poorly your denim skirt goes with sneakers. Shrugging, you reach for a pair of yoga pants - “REDIRECT,” you wince as it barks again, “What are you doing? I said keep moving!” “If I’m gonna run, I’m gonna be comfortable” you quip back, this time - definitely in your head. You do hear the bush under your front window rustling loudly. “Just the wind,” you tell yourself. “You might intuit that it’s not the wind,” the voice’s constantly interrupting voice upturning at the end. “Stop talking to me like I’m stupid and tell me what’s going on,” pulling your yoga pants all the way up, and admiring your ass in the mirror. “Seriously, you need to m- REDIRECT,” the unmistakeable creak of that second front step set the hairs on the back of your neck to attention. “You shouldn’t leave from the front entrance.” “What the fuck is going on,” you anxiously grab all of the things you had already gathered to leave the first time: your sling purse with your phone inside and your keys jingling on the strap. You quickly reach up to silence their sound, and tuck them into the pocket instead. “Good girl, you’re finally listening to me.” You could hear a scraping at the front door. Your cat meows repeatedly Shocked at the change in tone, “I almost always take your advice. Can you take this seriously?” The scraping stops. The meowing does not. “You’re stressed, I’m only trying to help.” ... You wait for this familiar, if not erratic, assistant to explain itself. After a few more meows, “is that it?” The meows stop. “Google is having trouble connecting to wifi. Check your connection and try again later.” “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” You definitely said that out loud. “Yeah, that new google update is some shit,” the intruder, wielding a baseball bat, bemused.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	You know the concept of a wingman, right? Your friend that helps you in social settings? Well, I don't have a wingman. I have a wingmind. My entire life I have had this voice in my head that gives me advice right before an event that would dramatically change my life. First time I heard it was when I was 6, sitting in the car on a beautiful autumn day. My mom and dad were dropping something off and left me in the car in front of their friend's house. The AC was on and it wasn't gonna take longer than a couple minutes. All I heard was "lock the doors". I clicked it, then I saw this older man try to open the door. He wanted to take me. I couldn't tell my parents, they'd think I'm insane. But I haven't disobeyed that voice since. &#x200B; Flash forward 16 years, I'm 22 and living on my own. I work in sales and have a standard 9-5. I planned to go for a walk and just relax before going to bed since I have a big meeting tomorrow with my district manager to potentially get a big promotion. I'm getting ready to walk out where I hear the voice say, "You might wanna put on your best runners." It's never guided me the wrong way, so I take my sneakers off and put on my running shoes. &#x200B; About 10 minutes into my walk, I start to hear rustling in the bushes near me. I see two eyes, dark red glaring at me, barely visible in the dark. I think nothing of it, expecting one of my neighbor's kids to jump out and scare me. They liked doing that, but only during the day. Maybe they were getting a little more daring. I keep walking down the street and decide to turn back. Passing the bush my neighbors were hiding in, there were no eyes this time. "Probably went inside, it is getting late," I say to myself. Then I hear it, the unmistakable voice of Chris, the weirdest of my neighbor's kids. But he sounded different, he sounded more menacing. "Him." &#x200B; I heard claws scratching the ground, and I heard the voice in my head again, "Run, you idiot." I just started running, not looking back. I didn't know what the hell it was, but it was gaining on me. All I had was a block left to get to my house and grab my gun, if that would even help me. I rounded the corner and there he was. But this wasn't Chris, this was a full-grown demon, buff as hell and ready to kill. I didn't know what else to do, I don't know how it got in front of me, but there was no way I could get in my house now. But before I could even act, he fell over, a bright white sword in his back. "Oh great, now someone else gets to kill me," I think. Until the figure steps out, a man I had never seen. "They found you, if you don't come with me, they will never stop hunting you down and you will die." I knew his voice but I didn't know how, I had never met this man, until I heard the same, familiar voice in my head. "Go with him now," the voice in my head was this man's voice. &#x200B; &#x200B; Go easy on me, I've only done a few of these and I'm not that great at writing.	You think furiously in return, “how am I supposed to change my shoes? Who waits til I’m walking to the car?” Stomping back in the house with your pretty, but ultimately useless, flats, and skipping up the steps to miss the creaky broken one in the middle. “REDIRECT” it barks, “Oh oh, that’s fair, that’s my bad,” the familiar after 25 years voice atones from the back of your head, “just don’t stick around here too long bb.” You slide through the front door with just enough room for you and not your escape artist cat, locking the door out of habit as you rush down the hall. “What? What the fuck?” shocked, you’re not sure if you said that out loud, as you’re busy stuffing your feet into the Nikes you bought the last time you thought you were gonna start running again. The voice remains silent while you stand up to look at how poorly your denim skirt goes with sneakers. Shrugging, you reach for a pair of yoga pants - “REDIRECT,” you wince as it barks again, “What are you doing? I said keep moving!” “If I’m gonna run, I’m gonna be comfortable” you quip back, this time - definitely in your head. You do hear the bush under your front window rustling loudly. “Just the wind,” you tell yourself. “You might intuit that it’s not the wind,” the voice’s constantly interrupting voice upturning at the end. “Stop talking to me like I’m stupid and tell me what’s going on,” pulling your yoga pants all the way up, and admiring your ass in the mirror. “Seriously, you need to m- REDIRECT,” the unmistakeable creak of that second front step set the hairs on the back of your neck to attention. “You shouldn’t leave from the front entrance.” “What the fuck is going on,” you anxiously grab all of the things you had already gathered to leave the first time: your sling purse with your phone inside and your keys jingling on the strap. You quickly reach up to silence their sound, and tuck them into the pocket instead. “Good girl, you’re finally listening to me.” You could hear a scraping at the front door. Your cat meows repeatedly Shocked at the change in tone, “I almost always take your advice. Can you take this seriously?” The scraping stops. The meowing does not. “You’re stressed, I’m only trying to help.” ... You wait for this familiar, if not erratic, assistant to explain itself. After a few more meows, “is that it?” The meows stop. “Google is having trouble connecting to wifi. Check your connection and try again later.” “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” You definitely said that out loud. “Yeah, that new google update is some shit,” the intruder, wielding a baseball bat, bemused.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	\[WP\] You have a voice in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavourable to turn back." I don't really doubt the voice. Why would I? I've gotten out of too much danger to disregard anything that it says. without looking back, I simply yank on my Nikes and walk stiffly out the door. I don't know what is behind me, but it's probably an alien tentacle fasklfjsa;fasdfj monster intent on my delicious pancreas. It's only after I'm past my driveway that I realise I reflexively put on my EMT jacket as I was going out the door. I'm just about to turn back out of habit, when the voice almost yells into my lower brain. It is very much against having me go back into my house. Yep, it's probably a fjasfasklfjsa;fasdfj monster. No biggie, I was only going down the road to the Bottle'O for some grog. I'm at the Cornady St intersection when the voice in my head tells me to go left. the Bottle'O is straight down the street. By this time, I'm pretty interested, so I follow it's orders. Ten metres down the street, the voice tells me to run like I'm on fire. Three minutes later, I'm about a kilometre down the road, and begging the voice to end me before I receive lung induced rib fractures. "Keep going". "Fuckn oath" I wheeze. My heart rate is a healthy a;fjs;flsdjf beats a minute now, and I've probably earned more than a rum and coke. Suddenly, I hear screaming from the park on my left. "This is it". I'm already running toward the screams, and get there to find a distraught mother cradling a purple three year old girl. Instantly going into paramedic mode, I grab the child and begin emergency care. It turns out the poor kiddie swallowed a marble. I almost pass out with relief when it pops out of her mouth and hits me in the left eye. The girl drags in deep breaths and promptly begins to wail. I hand the child back to her crying mother and slump onto the concrete with my back against a rubbish bin. Had I been three seconds later, the girl would have died.	You think furiously in return, “how am I supposed to change my shoes? Who waits til I’m walking to the car?” Stomping back in the house with your pretty, but ultimately useless, flats, and skipping up the steps to miss the creaky broken one in the middle. “REDIRECT” it barks, “Oh oh, that’s fair, that’s my bad,” the familiar after 25 years voice atones from the back of your head, “just don’t stick around here too long bb.” You slide through the front door with just enough room for you and not your escape artist cat, locking the door out of habit as you rush down the hall. “What? What the fuck?” shocked, you’re not sure if you said that out loud, as you’re busy stuffing your feet into the Nikes you bought the last time you thought you were gonna start running again. The voice remains silent while you stand up to look at how poorly your denim skirt goes with sneakers. Shrugging, you reach for a pair of yoga pants - “REDIRECT,” you wince as it barks again, “What are you doing? I said keep moving!” “If I’m gonna run, I’m gonna be comfortable” you quip back, this time - definitely in your head. You do hear the bush under your front window rustling loudly. “Just the wind,” you tell yourself. “You might intuit that it’s not the wind,” the voice’s constantly interrupting voice upturning at the end. “Stop talking to me like I’m stupid and tell me what’s going on,” pulling your yoga pants all the way up, and admiring your ass in the mirror. “Seriously, you need to m- REDIRECT,” the unmistakeable creak of that second front step set the hairs on the back of your neck to attention. “You shouldn’t leave from the front entrance.” “What the fuck is going on,” you anxiously grab all of the things you had already gathered to leave the first time: your sling purse with your phone inside and your keys jingling on the strap. You quickly reach up to silence their sound, and tuck them into the pocket instead. “Good girl, you’re finally listening to me.” You could hear a scraping at the front door. Your cat meows repeatedly Shocked at the change in tone, “I almost always take your advice. Can you take this seriously?” The scraping stops. The meowing does not. “You’re stressed, I’m only trying to help.” ... You wait for this familiar, if not erratic, assistant to explain itself. After a few more meows, “is that it?” The meows stop. “Google is having trouble connecting to wifi. Check your connection and try again later.” “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” You definitely said that out loud. “Yeah, that new google update is some shit,” the intruder, wielding a baseball bat, bemused.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	You know the concept of a wingman, right? Your friend that helps you in social settings? Well, I don't have a wingman. I have a wingmind. My entire life I have had this voice in my head that gives me advice right before an event that would dramatically change my life. First time I heard it was when I was 6, sitting in the car on a beautiful autumn day. My mom and dad were dropping something off and left me in the car in front of their friend's house. The AC was on and it wasn't gonna take longer than a couple minutes. All I heard was "lock the doors". I clicked it, then I saw this older man try to open the door. He wanted to take me. I couldn't tell my parents, they'd think I'm insane. But I haven't disobeyed that voice since. &#x200B; Flash forward 16 years, I'm 22 and living on my own. I work in sales and have a standard 9-5. I planned to go for a walk and just relax before going to bed since I have a big meeting tomorrow with my district manager to potentially get a big promotion. I'm getting ready to walk out where I hear the voice say, "You might wanna put on your best runners." It's never guided me the wrong way, so I take my sneakers off and put on my running shoes. &#x200B; About 10 minutes into my walk, I start to hear rustling in the bushes near me. I see two eyes, dark red glaring at me, barely visible in the dark. I think nothing of it, expecting one of my neighbor's kids to jump out and scare me. They liked doing that, but only during the day. Maybe they were getting a little more daring. I keep walking down the street and decide to turn back. Passing the bush my neighbors were hiding in, there were no eyes this time. "Probably went inside, it is getting late," I say to myself. Then I hear it, the unmistakable voice of Chris, the weirdest of my neighbor's kids. But he sounded different, he sounded more menacing. "Him." &#x200B; I heard claws scratching the ground, and I heard the voice in my head again, "Run, you idiot." I just started running, not looking back. I didn't know what the hell it was, but it was gaining on me. All I had was a block left to get to my house and grab my gun, if that would even help me. I rounded the corner and there he was. But this wasn't Chris, this was a full-grown demon, buff as hell and ready to kill. I didn't know what else to do, I don't know how it got in front of me, but there was no way I could get in my house now. But before I could even act, he fell over, a bright white sword in his back. "Oh great, now someone else gets to kill me," I think. Until the figure steps out, a man I had never seen. "They found you, if you don't come with me, they will never stop hunting you down and you will die." I knew his voice but I didn't know how, I had never met this man, until I heard the same, familiar voice in my head. "Go with him now," the voice in my head was this man's voice. &#x200B; &#x200B; Go easy on me, I've only done a few of these and I'm not that great at writing.	I just started running. The shoes I had on were for my concert, black classic shoes and the dress I was wearing it didn't help either. Luckily Patrick, one of my neighbors who happened to be going to the city saw me running and stoped. You might imagine how awkward that conversation was. And than it spoke again. The voice. This hadn't happened to me for a while. When I was younger I would hear it, all the time affecting every decision I made. And I listened to it each and every time. I never knew If I was the one making it up, in a way speaking to me without having control what I say, ot it was something completely else. It said I should get off the car in the next stop and follow the river. This was completely different. This time it was giving me directions, not only advice. And I had a feeling that something is about to happen. But what, and why am I doing this. The next stop was in the middle of nowhere and It took me a while to find the river. Patrick argued with me a bit about leaving me here, but I convinced him somehow. After several hours of walking and silence in my head, I started regereting not listening to him. Than all of a sudden I see two strangers sitting in a chair by the side of the river. An old couple. Maybe that had nothing to do with me. They are just out for fresh air.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	"Move" "Move now, Faster" The voice in the back of my head whispers as I run down the street. The sense of urgency making me run faster as the world blurs, too fast. Houses become blurs, as the screams of my neighbors begin echoing all around all. The sounds of bone being broken, flesh torn off, and cries of mercy makes me stop and freeze up. " You need to keep running, you are not strong enough to face him yet" the voice pleads, as the sounds of a thousand whispers begin enter my ears drowning out the lone voice in my head. "Hey Jon good buddy why did you run?" a familiar voices calls behind as the whispering of cosmic secrets try to their best to seduce. "I thought we were gonna have lasagna and watch some tv" the voice though familiar sounds distorted. "Had to chase you all the way here, and you know how exercising makes me hungry" I felt a chill down my spine as i notice all the screaming stop and the world is dead silent. "You know I can't have you leave me Jon, you complete me" I feel the presence come closer as the whispers become screams, and something grabs me and turns me around. I see a fat orange cat sitting down looking at me "Well Jon let head back to the house Odie is waiting on us" "Odie is dead Jon remember" the voice somehow breaks through the whispering, "He killed him long time ago , You need to run before he takes control again, I won't be able to chip away at his control again I am just no longer strong enough" "OH IS THAT LIZ I HEAR" Garfield calls out breaking my thoughts, as I watch my cat slowly transform into towering mass of flesh and bone. " TELL THE WHORE YOU ARE MINE AND MINE ALONE, you complete me Jon and I can't have no one take you away from me" &#x200B; &#x200B; Truthfully I have no idea where I am going with this, but recently been lurking in the r/imsorryjon and found the fanmade mythos to be amazing. If anyone can use this and make it better please do	I just started running. The shoes I had on were for my concert, black classic shoes and the dress I was wearing it didn't help either. Luckily Patrick, one of my neighbors who happened to be going to the city saw me running and stoped. You might imagine how awkward that conversation was. And than it spoke again. The voice. This hadn't happened to me for a while. When I was younger I would hear it, all the time affecting every decision I made. And I listened to it each and every time. I never knew If I was the one making it up, in a way speaking to me without having control what I say, ot it was something completely else. It said I should get off the car in the next stop and follow the river. This was completely different. This time it was giving me directions, not only advice. And I had a feeling that something is about to happen. But what, and why am I doing this. The next stop was in the middle of nowhere and It took me a while to find the river. Patrick argued with me a bit about leaving me here, but I convinced him somehow. After several hours of walking and silence in my head, I started regereting not listening to him. Than all of a sudden I see two strangers sitting in a chair by the side of the river. An old couple. Maybe that had nothing to do with me. They are just out for fresh air.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	\[WP\] You have a voice in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavourable to turn back." I don't really doubt the voice. Why would I? I've gotten out of too much danger to disregard anything that it says. without looking back, I simply yank on my Nikes and walk stiffly out the door. I don't know what is behind me, but it's probably an alien tentacle fasklfjsa;fasdfj monster intent on my delicious pancreas. It's only after I'm past my driveway that I realise I reflexively put on my EMT jacket as I was going out the door. I'm just about to turn back out of habit, when the voice almost yells into my lower brain. It is very much against having me go back into my house. Yep, it's probably a fjasfasklfjsa;fasdfj monster. No biggie, I was only going down the road to the Bottle'O for some grog. I'm at the Cornady St intersection when the voice in my head tells me to go left. the Bottle'O is straight down the street. By this time, I'm pretty interested, so I follow it's orders. Ten metres down the street, the voice tells me to run like I'm on fire. Three minutes later, I'm about a kilometre down the road, and begging the voice to end me before I receive lung induced rib fractures. "Keep going". "Fuckn oath" I wheeze. My heart rate is a healthy a;fjs;flsdjf beats a minute now, and I've probably earned more than a rum and coke. Suddenly, I hear screaming from the park on my left. "This is it". I'm already running toward the screams, and get there to find a distraught mother cradling a purple three year old girl. Instantly going into paramedic mode, I grab the child and begin emergency care. It turns out the poor kiddie swallowed a marble. I almost pass out with relief when it pops out of her mouth and hits me in the left eye. The girl drags in deep breaths and promptly begins to wail. I hand the child back to her crying mother and slump onto the concrete with my back against a rubbish bin. Had I been three seconds later, the girl would have died.	I just started running. The shoes I had on were for my concert, black classic shoes and the dress I was wearing it didn't help either. Luckily Patrick, one of my neighbors who happened to be going to the city saw me running and stoped. You might imagine how awkward that conversation was. And than it spoke again. The voice. This hadn't happened to me for a while. When I was younger I would hear it, all the time affecting every decision I made. And I listened to it each and every time. I never knew If I was the one making it up, in a way speaking to me without having control what I say, ot it was something completely else. It said I should get off the car in the next stop and follow the river. This was completely different. This time it was giving me directions, not only advice. And I had a feeling that something is about to happen. But what, and why am I doing this. The next stop was in the middle of nowhere and It took me a while to find the river. Patrick argued with me a bit about leaving me here, but I convinced him somehow. After several hours of walking and silence in my head, I started regereting not listening to him. Than all of a sudden I see two strangers sitting in a chair by the side of the river. An old couple. Maybe that had nothing to do with me. They are just out for fresh air.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	"Hey. Hello.... Can you hear me?" Huh? What? Where the hell did it come from? Must've be– "Hey! I'm in your head! Just hear me out, okay?" ... A-Are you fucking kidding me... The voice inside his head took a deep sigh and continued, "No I'm not kidding you. Before you ask, no I'm not your conscience as well.. but you may find it favourable to treat me as one." Should I really... He thought to himself. Like any reasonable sane person, of course he'd be doubting a random voice that he can hear coming from his own head. Okay, so what were you going to say? "I don't know why you think going out on your own right now is appropriate, but you may want to put on your best runners," the voice said in a matter-of-fact way as if it was trying to say something else. Of course he could not understand that at all. He was just outside his apartment door and he – as he would usually do when going for a bit – was wearing a pair of sandals. He'd thought nothing of it since he valued the comfort of the breezing air caressing his feet the most. He also wasn't going out on a run nor a jog so he thought why would he ever put on his runners. Don't be silly, I'm just heading out to grab a meal at the deli next door. Why would I need to wear my best runners? He thought to himself, a bit ridiculing the suggestion the voice had made. Expressing frustration, the voice sighed deeper and said, "I'm being really serious here... I dare you to go forth with those ugly looking sandals of yours." Realising that he'd just be going back and forth, he reluctantly relented and put on his runners before continuing on his meal-seeking deli adventure. However, not 5 minutes into his little adventure, he realised something urgent. Ah crap. I forgot my wallet. Fuck you voice! Why not tell me that instead of forcing me to put on my goddamn runners?! He thought cursing the voice as he tried to create a face on which he can put the voice over. He then turned back to grab his wallet back in his apartment when... "NO! Please, I beg of you." Huh? "It would be unfavourable to turn back, just continue on your current task," the voice suddenly went from shouting madly to calm in a second. Ignoring the fact that he might not have the means to pay for the meal, he heeded the voice. He's mad at himself for even listening to this nonsense but he thought well, I've gone this far... might as well soldier on to see what the hell would happen next. Just as he was entering the deli, his mouth fell at the sight of red – splattered across the whole room. He could see the meat hanging behind the counter blending a bit – though the meat itself was of a paler red – to the red liquid painting the room. The familiar yet eerie smell of iron stormed his senses. This is bad... W-What the... Suddenly he could see a few black ball-like creatures observing him from where the counter was. They seemed to be glaring at him, the way a predator would when trying to assess a prey. Before he could yelped, the voice returned from within his head. "Run."	I just started running. The shoes I had on were for my concert, black classic shoes and the dress I was wearing it didn't help either. Luckily Patrick, one of my neighbors who happened to be going to the city saw me running and stoped. You might imagine how awkward that conversation was. And than it spoke again. The voice. This hadn't happened to me for a while. When I was younger I would hear it, all the time affecting every decision I made. And I listened to it each and every time. I never knew If I was the one making it up, in a way speaking to me without having control what I say, ot it was something completely else. It said I should get off the car in the next stop and follow the river. This was completely different. This time it was giving me directions, not only advice. And I had a feeling that something is about to happen. But what, and why am I doing this. The next stop was in the middle of nowhere and It took me a while to find the river. Patrick argued with me a bit about leaving me here, but I convinced him somehow. After several hours of walking and silence in my head, I started regereting not listening to him. Than all of a sudden I see two strangers sitting in a chair by the side of the river. An old couple. Maybe that had nothing to do with me. They are just out for fresh air.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	Joanne had to go out to run some errands. "On the way there, I might grab some breakfast as well. I'm starving." The voice had been eerily quiet for the last weeks. The young woman had grown accostumed to her invisible companion, after years of back and forth conversation. Except, it was only inside her head. Having successfully decided on her usual jeans and something outfit, she stopped by her pile of shoes near the entrance door. Just then, the voice resonated with some urgency. "You may want to put on your best runners." Joanne jumped, startled. "Wow. You scared me." "I'm sorry." her companion apologized in a higher pitch than before. "You should get going." "Sure, sure. But I guess I forgot my glasses in my nightstand." - she said, wearing her runners. - "I will have to go get them first." "It would be unfavorable to turn back." - the voice sounded deeper, almost somber. A cold shiver went down Joanne's spine and her skin crawled, as she heard light steps behind her. She lived alone. In one motion, she opened her door and the screen after it, not even minding to close it back. Running down the steps, she turned left and kept running in the sidewalk, while she heard her door and screen opening and closing again. "Keep running!" - her companion sounded distressed again. - "Don't try to look!" The hair on Joanne's neck raised. Something was after her. Her bag was flyng on the side of her body, painfully hitting her. She kept her pace, panting and sweating as she tried to run as faster as she could. Joanne started having trouble to breath, but she was too terrified to go slower. Moments later, when she thought she could not keep going anymore, the voice spoke again. "You can go back to walking now. But don't stop yet." She reduced her frantic running to a jog, and then a walk. Her legs started to feel weak and she was tired. She had reached the outskirts of the town. Taking deep breaths she asked: "Can I look back now?" "Yes, but I would not recommend it." A strong smell of smoke reached her nose. And...something mettalic. "Death?" - she asked the voice. "Yes." "Where? Who?" There was a small pause, and then a tiny, small sob. Her companion sounded like it was crying, as it said in a hushed voice: "Everywhere. Everyone."	I just started running. The shoes I had on were for my concert, black classic shoes and the dress I was wearing it didn't help either. Luckily Patrick, one of my neighbors who happened to be going to the city saw me running and stoped. You might imagine how awkward that conversation was. And than it spoke again. The voice. This hadn't happened to me for a while. When I was younger I would hear it, all the time affecting every decision I made. And I listened to it each and every time. I never knew If I was the one making it up, in a way speaking to me without having control what I say, ot it was something completely else. It said I should get off the car in the next stop and follow the river. This was completely different. This time it was giving me directions, not only advice. And I had a feeling that something is about to happen. But what, and why am I doing this. The next stop was in the middle of nowhere and It took me a while to find the river. Patrick argued with me a bit about leaving me here, but I convinced him somehow. After several hours of walking and silence in my head, I started regereting not listening to him. Than all of a sudden I see two strangers sitting in a chair by the side of the river. An old couple. Maybe that had nothing to do with me. They are just out for fresh air.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	I started heading out when I heard the voice in my head say, “You may want to put on your best runners.” “Best runners?” I thought. “I’m not really in the mood for running. I think I'll just watch TV instead.” I turned to go back into the living room but the voice spoke again: “It would be unfavourable to turn back.” That was a bit unsettling. Usually, I only heard from the voice every few hours and now it had spoken to me twice in the space of a minute. Thinking this must be something important, I dutifully put on my running shoes and headed out the door. I walked down the street, unsure whether I should be running or not. It was night and there was no one else around. A car passed me, then the street was quiet again. I kept walking. I didn’t know where the voice wanted me to go exactly so I decided to walk towards the city centre. I couldn’t really think straight. All I knew was that something important was going to happen. I looked up at the stars and that's when I saw it. A glint in the sky. Something that shouldn't be there. It was brighter than a star and it seemed to be getting bigger. Then I remembered the words in my head. “You may want to put on your best runners.” So that's when I started running. I'm not much of a runner, but let me tell you, that night I ran faster than I've ever done before. At first, every few seconds I'd turn to look up at the sky, and the object was always a little bigger. It seemed to be falling towards the Earth. After that, I only glanced back every minute or so. I didn’t think about stopping. The terror made me forget about fatigue or tiredness. I ran full sprint for what seemed like miles. I ran past houses and down streets. Lights were coming on in the windows now and people were coming outside to look at the sky. I glanced over my shoulder and up at the sky again. It was only a brief glance. That’s all I could afford. The object was much bigger now. People were pointing and shouting. And other people were running too now. Some were clutching children. I saw a mother holding a baby. She tripped on the sidewalk and when the baby hit the ground, it stopped crying. I had tears in my eyes and I wanted to stop to help but I knew that I had to keep running no matter what. I had to keep running. People were screaming now. I ran past them all the same. My lungs hurt and my legs ached and tears stung my eyes, but still I ran. All around me were screams. I looked at the sky one last time and I wished I hadn't. For a moment I saw it – it had two eyes and a mouth – but that's all I had time to see because the next moment there was a blinding white light as the object hit the ground. A shockwave sent me flying headfirst into the pavement. I lay on the street in a fetal position with my eyes closed for what seemed like forever, while tinnitus rang in my ears. There was the smell of dust and rubble. When I eventually opened my eyes, I couldn't see at first because there was too much dust on my face. I rubbed at my eyes to get rid of it, but I was just rubbing more dust into them. “It might be advantageous to pretend to be dead,” said the voice in my head. I froze. Then the voice added, “It’s coming.”	I just started running. The shoes I had on were for my concert, black classic shoes and the dress I was wearing it didn't help either. Luckily Patrick, one of my neighbors who happened to be going to the city saw me running and stoped. You might imagine how awkward that conversation was. And than it spoke again. The voice. This hadn't happened to me for a while. When I was younger I would hear it, all the time affecting every decision I made. And I listened to it each and every time. I never knew If I was the one making it up, in a way speaking to me without having control what I say, ot it was something completely else. It said I should get off the car in the next stop and follow the river. This was completely different. This time it was giving me directions, not only advice. And I had a feeling that something is about to happen. But what, and why am I doing this. The next stop was in the middle of nowhere and It took me a while to find the river. Patrick argued with me a bit about leaving me here, but I convinced him somehow. After several hours of walking and silence in my head, I started regereting not listening to him. Than all of a sudden I see two strangers sitting in a chair by the side of the river. An old couple. Maybe that had nothing to do with me. They are just out for fresh air.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	\[WP\] You have a voice in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavourable to turn back." I don't really doubt the voice. Why would I? I've gotten out of too much danger to disregard anything that it says. without looking back, I simply yank on my Nikes and walk stiffly out the door. I don't know what is behind me, but it's probably an alien tentacle fasklfjsa;fasdfj monster intent on my delicious pancreas. It's only after I'm past my driveway that I realise I reflexively put on my EMT jacket as I was going out the door. I'm just about to turn back out of habit, when the voice almost yells into my lower brain. It is very much against having me go back into my house. Yep, it's probably a fjasfasklfjsa;fasdfj monster. No biggie, I was only going down the road to the Bottle'O for some grog. I'm at the Cornady St intersection when the voice in my head tells me to go left. the Bottle'O is straight down the street. By this time, I'm pretty interested, so I follow it's orders. Ten metres down the street, the voice tells me to run like I'm on fire. Three minutes later, I'm about a kilometre down the road, and begging the voice to end me before I receive lung induced rib fractures. "Keep going". "Fuckn oath" I wheeze. My heart rate is a healthy a;fjs;flsdjf beats a minute now, and I've probably earned more than a rum and coke. Suddenly, I hear screaming from the park on my left. "This is it". I'm already running toward the screams, and get there to find a distraught mother cradling a purple three year old girl. Instantly going into paramedic mode, I grab the child and begin emergency care. It turns out the poor kiddie swallowed a marble. I almost pass out with relief when it pops out of her mouth and hits me in the left eye. The girl drags in deep breaths and promptly begins to wail. I hand the child back to her crying mother and slump onto the concrete with my back against a rubbish bin. Had I been three seconds later, the girl would have died.	You know the concept of a wingman, right? Your friend that helps you in social settings? Well, I don't have a wingman. I have a wingmind. My entire life I have had this voice in my head that gives me advice right before an event that would dramatically change my life. First time I heard it was when I was 6, sitting in the car on a beautiful autumn day. My mom and dad were dropping something off and left me in the car in front of their friend's house. The AC was on and it wasn't gonna take longer than a couple minutes. All I heard was "lock the doors". I clicked it, then I saw this older man try to open the door. He wanted to take me. I couldn't tell my parents, they'd think I'm insane. But I haven't disobeyed that voice since. &#x200B; Flash forward 16 years, I'm 22 and living on my own. I work in sales and have a standard 9-5. I planned to go for a walk and just relax before going to bed since I have a big meeting tomorrow with my district manager to potentially get a big promotion. I'm getting ready to walk out where I hear the voice say, "You might wanna put on your best runners." It's never guided me the wrong way, so I take my sneakers off and put on my running shoes. &#x200B; About 10 minutes into my walk, I start to hear rustling in the bushes near me. I see two eyes, dark red glaring at me, barely visible in the dark. I think nothing of it, expecting one of my neighbor's kids to jump out and scare me. They liked doing that, but only during the day. Maybe they were getting a little more daring. I keep walking down the street and decide to turn back. Passing the bush my neighbors were hiding in, there were no eyes this time. "Probably went inside, it is getting late," I say to myself. Then I hear it, the unmistakable voice of Chris, the weirdest of my neighbor's kids. But he sounded different, he sounded more menacing. "Him." &#x200B; I heard claws scratching the ground, and I heard the voice in my head again, "Run, you idiot." I just started running, not looking back. I didn't know what the hell it was, but it was gaining on me. All I had was a block left to get to my house and grab my gun, if that would even help me. I rounded the corner and there he was. But this wasn't Chris, this was a full-grown demon, buff as hell and ready to kill. I didn't know what else to do, I don't know how it got in front of me, but there was no way I could get in my house now. But before I could even act, he fell over, a bright white sword in his back. "Oh great, now someone else gets to kill me," I think. Until the figure steps out, a man I had never seen. "They found you, if you don't come with me, they will never stop hunting you down and you will die." I knew his voice but I didn't know how, I had never met this man, until I heard the same, familiar voice in my head. "Go with him now," the voice in my head was this man's voice. &#x200B; &#x200B; Go easy on me, I've only done a few of these and I'm not that great at writing.
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	\[WP\] You have a voice in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavourable to turn back." I don't really doubt the voice. Why would I? I've gotten out of too much danger to disregard anything that it says. without looking back, I simply yank on my Nikes and walk stiffly out the door. I don't know what is behind me, but it's probably an alien tentacle fasklfjsa;fasdfj monster intent on my delicious pancreas. It's only after I'm past my driveway that I realise I reflexively put on my EMT jacket as I was going out the door. I'm just about to turn back out of habit, when the voice almost yells into my lower brain. It is very much against having me go back into my house. Yep, it's probably a fjasfasklfjsa;fasdfj monster. No biggie, I was only going down the road to the Bottle'O for some grog. I'm at the Cornady St intersection when the voice in my head tells me to go left. the Bottle'O is straight down the street. By this time, I'm pretty interested, so I follow it's orders. Ten metres down the street, the voice tells me to run like I'm on fire. Three minutes later, I'm about a kilometre down the road, and begging the voice to end me before I receive lung induced rib fractures. "Keep going". "Fuckn oath" I wheeze. My heart rate is a healthy a;fjs;flsdjf beats a minute now, and I've probably earned more than a rum and coke. Suddenly, I hear screaming from the park on my left. "This is it". I'm already running toward the screams, and get there to find a distraught mother cradling a purple three year old girl. Instantly going into paramedic mode, I grab the child and begin emergency care. It turns out the poor kiddie swallowed a marble. I almost pass out with relief when it pops out of her mouth and hits me in the left eye. The girl drags in deep breaths and promptly begins to wail. I hand the child back to her crying mother and slump onto the concrete with my back against a rubbish bin. Had I been three seconds later, the girl would have died.	"Move" "Move now, Faster" The voice in the back of my head whispers as I run down the street. The sense of urgency making me run faster as the world blurs, too fast. Houses become blurs, as the screams of my neighbors begin echoing all around all. The sounds of bone being broken, flesh torn off, and cries of mercy makes me stop and freeze up. " You need to keep running, you are not strong enough to face him yet" the voice pleads, as the sounds of a thousand whispers begin enter my ears drowning out the lone voice in my head. "Hey Jon good buddy why did you run?" a familiar voices calls behind as the whispering of cosmic secrets try to their best to seduce. "I thought we were gonna have lasagna and watch some tv" the voice though familiar sounds distorted. "Had to chase you all the way here, and you know how exercising makes me hungry" I felt a chill down my spine as i notice all the screaming stop and the world is dead silent. "You know I can't have you leave me Jon, you complete me" I feel the presence come closer as the whispers become screams, and something grabs me and turns me around. I see a fat orange cat sitting down looking at me "Well Jon let head back to the house Odie is waiting on us" "Odie is dead Jon remember" the voice somehow breaks through the whispering, "He killed him long time ago , You need to run before he takes control again, I won't be able to chip away at his control again I am just no longer strong enough" "OH IS THAT LIZ I HEAR" Garfield calls out breaking my thoughts, as I watch my cat slowly transform into towering mass of flesh and bone. " TELL THE WHORE YOU ARE MINE AND MINE ALONE, you complete me Jon and I can't have no one take you away from me" &#x200B; &#x200B; Truthfully I have no idea where I am going with this, but recently been lurking in the r/imsorryjon and found the fanmade mythos to be amazing. If anyone can use this and make it better please do
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	Joanne had to go out to run some errands. "On the way there, I might grab some breakfast as well. I'm starving." The voice had been eerily quiet for the last weeks. The young woman had grown accostumed to her invisible companion, after years of back and forth conversation. Except, it was only inside her head. Having successfully decided on her usual jeans and something outfit, she stopped by her pile of shoes near the entrance door. Just then, the voice resonated with some urgency. "You may want to put on your best runners." Joanne jumped, startled. "Wow. You scared me." "I'm sorry." her companion apologized in a higher pitch than before. "You should get going." "Sure, sure. But I guess I forgot my glasses in my nightstand." - she said, wearing her runners. - "I will have to go get them first." "It would be unfavorable to turn back." - the voice sounded deeper, almost somber. A cold shiver went down Joanne's spine and her skin crawled, as she heard light steps behind her. She lived alone. In one motion, she opened her door and the screen after it, not even minding to close it back. Running down the steps, she turned left and kept running in the sidewalk, while she heard her door and screen opening and closing again. "Keep running!" - her companion sounded distressed again. - "Don't try to look!" The hair on Joanne's neck raised. Something was after her. Her bag was flyng on the side of her body, painfully hitting her. She kept her pace, panting and sweating as she tried to run as faster as she could. Joanne started having trouble to breath, but she was too terrified to go slower. Moments later, when she thought she could not keep going anymore, the voice spoke again. "You can go back to walking now. But don't stop yet." She reduced her frantic running to a jog, and then a walk. Her legs started to feel weak and she was tired. She had reached the outskirts of the town. Taking deep breaths she asked: "Can I look back now?" "Yes, but I would not recommend it." A strong smell of smoke reached her nose. And...something mettalic. "Death?" - she asked the voice. "Yes." "Where? Who?" There was a small pause, and then a tiny, small sob. Her companion sounded like it was crying, as it said in a hushed voice: "Everywhere. Everyone."	"Hey. Hello.... Can you hear me?" Huh? What? Where the hell did it come from? Must've be– "Hey! I'm in your head! Just hear me out, okay?" ... A-Are you fucking kidding me... The voice inside his head took a deep sigh and continued, "No I'm not kidding you. Before you ask, no I'm not your conscience as well.. but you may find it favourable to treat me as one." Should I really... He thought to himself. Like any reasonable sane person, of course he'd be doubting a random voice that he can hear coming from his own head. Okay, so what were you going to say? "I don't know why you think going out on your own right now is appropriate, but you may want to put on your best runners," the voice said in a matter-of-fact way as if it was trying to say something else. Of course he could not understand that at all. He was just outside his apartment door and he – as he would usually do when going for a bit – was wearing a pair of sandals. He'd thought nothing of it since he valued the comfort of the breezing air caressing his feet the most. He also wasn't going out on a run nor a jog so he thought why would he ever put on his runners. Don't be silly, I'm just heading out to grab a meal at the deli next door. Why would I need to wear my best runners? He thought to himself, a bit ridiculing the suggestion the voice had made. Expressing frustration, the voice sighed deeper and said, "I'm being really serious here... I dare you to go forth with those ugly looking sandals of yours." Realising that he'd just be going back and forth, he reluctantly relented and put on his runners before continuing on his meal-seeking deli adventure. However, not 5 minutes into his little adventure, he realised something urgent. Ah crap. I forgot my wallet. Fuck you voice! Why not tell me that instead of forcing me to put on my goddamn runners?! He thought cursing the voice as he tried to create a face on which he can put the voice over. He then turned back to grab his wallet back in his apartment when... "NO! Please, I beg of you." Huh? "It would be unfavourable to turn back, just continue on your current task," the voice suddenly went from shouting madly to calm in a second. Ignoring the fact that he might not have the means to pay for the meal, he heeded the voice. He's mad at himself for even listening to this nonsense but he thought well, I've gone this far... might as well soldier on to see what the hell would happen next. Just as he was entering the deli, his mouth fell at the sight of red – splattered across the whole room. He could see the meat hanging behind the counter blending a bit – though the meat itself was of a paler red – to the red liquid painting the room. The familiar yet eerie smell of iron stormed his senses. This is bad... W-What the... Suddenly he could see a few black ball-like creatures observing him from where the counter was. They seemed to be glaring at him, the way a predator would when trying to assess a prey. Before he could yelped, the voice returned from within his head. "Run."
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	I started heading out when I heard the voice in my head say, “You may want to put on your best runners.” “Best runners?” I thought. “I’m not really in the mood for running. I think I'll just watch TV instead.” I turned to go back into the living room but the voice spoke again: “It would be unfavourable to turn back.” That was a bit unsettling. Usually, I only heard from the voice every few hours and now it had spoken to me twice in the space of a minute. Thinking this must be something important, I dutifully put on my running shoes and headed out the door. I walked down the street, unsure whether I should be running or not. It was night and there was no one else around. A car passed me, then the street was quiet again. I kept walking. I didn’t know where the voice wanted me to go exactly so I decided to walk towards the city centre. I couldn’t really think straight. All I knew was that something important was going to happen. I looked up at the stars and that's when I saw it. A glint in the sky. Something that shouldn't be there. It was brighter than a star and it seemed to be getting bigger. Then I remembered the words in my head. “You may want to put on your best runners.” So that's when I started running. I'm not much of a runner, but let me tell you, that night I ran faster than I've ever done before. At first, every few seconds I'd turn to look up at the sky, and the object was always a little bigger. It seemed to be falling towards the Earth. After that, I only glanced back every minute or so. I didn’t think about stopping. The terror made me forget about fatigue or tiredness. I ran full sprint for what seemed like miles. I ran past houses and down streets. Lights were coming on in the windows now and people were coming outside to look at the sky. I glanced over my shoulder and up at the sky again. It was only a brief glance. That’s all I could afford. The object was much bigger now. People were pointing and shouting. And other people were running too now. Some were clutching children. I saw a mother holding a baby. She tripped on the sidewalk and when the baby hit the ground, it stopped crying. I had tears in my eyes and I wanted to stop to help but I knew that I had to keep running no matter what. I had to keep running. People were screaming now. I ran past them all the same. My lungs hurt and my legs ached and tears stung my eyes, but still I ran. All around me were screams. I looked at the sky one last time and I wished I hadn't. For a moment I saw it – it had two eyes and a mouth – but that's all I had time to see because the next moment there was a blinding white light as the object hit the ground. A shockwave sent me flying headfirst into the pavement. I lay on the street in a fetal position with my eyes closed for what seemed like forever, while tinnitus rang in my ears. There was the smell of dust and rubble. When I eventually opened my eyes, I couldn't see at first because there was too much dust on my face. I rubbed at my eyes to get rid of it, but I was just rubbing more dust into them. “It might be advantageous to pretend to be dead,” said the voice in my head. I froze. Then the voice added, “It’s coming.”	I'm probably going crazy. Thats what I thought as I laced up my shoes nice and tight, glancing back toward the front door. It was pitch black outside, the abyss of the dead time somewhere between dusk and dawn. The air was brisk, just slightly damp, and I kept looking at the damn house. The lights were on. I knew she was still awake. How could she sleep? Fucking run. "Jesus, okay," I mumbled, finishing a stretch before complying. "Why do I have to run, anyway?" "Shut up." In retrospect, running while completely delirious wasn't the greatest idea, but whatever nagging asshole that had invaded during my sleep-deprived mania didn't seem to mind very much. So I ran. I don't know how long, but I made it it up the usual path to the two mile marker and stopped to catch my breath. "Keep running." "Man, shut up already. Why? Gimme a sec, Christ." Every streetlight along the path, as afar as I could see, popped and the little bit of remaining light was gone. I turned back and saw a pair of eyes yellower than the sun behind me, stumbling backward, scrambling on the trail, and understood the words immediately. And I ran, stumbling along the path, only the sandy trail's feel beneath my runners to guide me. I ran until my legs were like jelly and each breath felt futile, collapsing near the point where the trail looped about a half mile from my home. The eyes were still behind me. I groaned, standing up and starting a feeble jog, but was rudely interrupted. "Stop running." "What the fuck? Why would I stop now?" "Stop." "And what? Get killed?" "Face it." My heart pounded even harder than it had been while I was running, and I gulped down the lump in my throat. The eyes glowed in the darkness, floating, bobbing. I didn't have the gall to approach it, but just enough fear to freeze me while it did the work for me. Sweat dripped down my spine. My heart pounded in my eyes and ears and legs, making everything ache. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut, but couldn't peel them from the horror. But they dimmed as they approached, those terrible yellow eyes, and didn't get as big as I thought they would. In fact, when it got close enough for my adjusted eyes to see, it was... a cat. It was a goddamn black housecat. It meowed at me. I pat it, cautious, and it meowed again, then slunk off into the abyss. After a pause, I looked to the sky. "What the fuck was all of that about?" The only response I got was rain. I got back to the house, drenched in drizzling that had washed my sweat away, all broken breaths and wobbly legs. My wife approached me, eyes wide, hands out. "What the hell were you doing?" she asked, brows furrowed. I gulped a few liters of air, squeezing my eyes shut, then straightened and put a hand on her shoulder, seeing the slouch in them and red in her eyes. "Running. But I'm done with that, now. Let's talk. Well... maybe tomorrow. We seriously need some sleep." She cocked her head, but let a faint smile twitch at her lips, and crept a hand up to mine. ---- /r/resonatingfury
"Voice." Dumb typo :/	[WP] You have a voce in your head that automatically gives you advice. One night when you start heading out you hear it say "you may want to put on your best runners." You turn away and it adds, "it would be unfavorable to turn back."	I started heading out when I heard the voice in my head say, “You may want to put on your best runners.” “Best runners?” I thought. “I’m not really in the mood for running. I think I'll just watch TV instead.” I turned to go back into the living room but the voice spoke again: “It would be unfavourable to turn back.” That was a bit unsettling. Usually, I only heard from the voice every few hours and now it had spoken to me twice in the space of a minute. Thinking this must be something important, I dutifully put on my running shoes and headed out the door. I walked down the street, unsure whether I should be running or not. It was night and there was no one else around. A car passed me, then the street was quiet again. I kept walking. I didn’t know where the voice wanted me to go exactly so I decided to walk towards the city centre. I couldn’t really think straight. All I knew was that something important was going to happen. I looked up at the stars and that's when I saw it. A glint in the sky. Something that shouldn't be there. It was brighter than a star and it seemed to be getting bigger. Then I remembered the words in my head. “You may want to put on your best runners.” So that's when I started running. I'm not much of a runner, but let me tell you, that night I ran faster than I've ever done before. At first, every few seconds I'd turn to look up at the sky, and the object was always a little bigger. It seemed to be falling towards the Earth. After that, I only glanced back every minute or so. I didn’t think about stopping. The terror made me forget about fatigue or tiredness. I ran full sprint for what seemed like miles. I ran past houses and down streets. Lights were coming on in the windows now and people were coming outside to look at the sky. I glanced over my shoulder and up at the sky again. It was only a brief glance. That’s all I could afford. The object was much bigger now. People were pointing and shouting. And other people were running too now. Some were clutching children. I saw a mother holding a baby. She tripped on the sidewalk and when the baby hit the ground, it stopped crying. I had tears in my eyes and I wanted to stop to help but I knew that I had to keep running no matter what. I had to keep running. People were screaming now. I ran past them all the same. My lungs hurt and my legs ached and tears stung my eyes, but still I ran. All around me were screams. I looked at the sky one last time and I wished I hadn't. For a moment I saw it – it had two eyes and a mouth – but that's all I had time to see because the next moment there was a blinding white light as the object hit the ground. A shockwave sent me flying headfirst into the pavement. I lay on the street in a fetal position with my eyes closed for what seemed like forever, while tinnitus rang in my ears. There was the smell of dust and rubble. When I eventually opened my eyes, I couldn't see at first because there was too much dust on my face. I rubbed at my eyes to get rid of it, but I was just rubbing more dust into them. “It might be advantageous to pretend to be dead,” said the voice in my head. I froze. Then the voice added, “It’s coming.”	So here I am, stuck at my front door. Ever since I was a child, there was always a voice in my head giving me advice when needed. While the advice did not always help, I did take solace in the fact that someone was looking out for me, even if it wasn’t exactly a person but rather a voice in my head. Call it ‘helpful schizophrenia’ if you will. Now, let’s get back to my front door. As I was preparing for my ten klick run as part of my routine, I put on my new pair of running shoes. (trying to break them in, you see.) Just as I got up, the voice in my head rang out. Put on your best runners. Well that’s interesting, but I suppose there wasn’t any harm in it. Without paying much heed to my actions, I turned around to get to my shoe cabinet. Then the voice rang again. Do not turn around. How else was I supposed to leave my house for my run then?! As I stood there, I heard the faintest growl. It was barely audible, but menacing nonetheless. Then my room turned dark. And tentacles gently groped me. You would do well to take my advice here. The voice added, reminding me to not turn around. Walk straight, and do not look back no matter what. The tentacles were slithering all over me, but I collected myself and moved. Something about the calmness in the voice seemed to resonate in me, so I quite unexpectedly did not panic. With every step I took, the tentacles tried to reaffirm their grip on me, and those that could, tightened their hold on me. Though that did not affect me much, since I continued to calmly walk forward. Just as I reached my living room, the voice rang out. Open your curtains. As I touched my curtains, the tentacles tightened their grip further. Some even wrapped around my neck in hopes of strangling me. At this point I was tempted to turn around. If I was going to die, at least let me see what was killing me. Please trust me. And so I did. Opening the curtains, a most unearthly screech resounded throughout my living room. But I also saw a faint silhouette being reflected on the other side of the glass, as opposed to the ungodly reflection on the glass melting away. “What are you...” Entranced by its beauty, I unconsciously asked the gradually forming silhouette on the other side. Your Guardian Angel. Due to your faith in me, even in the most trying of times, I became able to manifest myself in this world. The thousands of hidden meanings echoed in that short sentence, but the one I received best was: Thank you for believing, even when nothing else would.
	[WP] The world population is dying off by a super bacteria that's 100% lethal and has affected 100% of the population. There is no cure. As a last hurrah for the human race, the greatest scientific minds have come together with the goal to end life with a bang. Blow up the sun.	He stared into the sun, and thought about how now that he was in front of it, it actually looked...smaller than he thought. Maybe this was because he had spent so long preparing for it that by the time to actually see it, nothing could live up to his expectations. Through his protective visor, the pilot could still see the ends of the gas giant. He could still see space, and no that everything wasn’t just fire. “Why are we doing this again, Mr. President?” He had asked once, when the doubt had crept and crept up in his mind and not even sleeping had forced it back down. “Because when it’s times like this, Captain, times when nothing we say can change God’s mind, the only thing left to do is to say something for yourself. And humanity is speaking for itself. Speaking for its right to choose.” “Right to choose what?” “An ending to our story. An ending that we made happen, not whatever virus or deus ex machina the universe seems to have chosen to end us.” “I see.” But no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t come up with any idea on how that moment would actually be, when the charges detonated, and the sun exploded. So in the end, he did what they taught him to do in situations with no protocol. Keep flying, and hope for the best. He watched the time go down, and scrambled to have one final thought. But before he could come up with one, what he had hoped for came. That just for one moment, before it all went dark, more light that he had ever seen in his life would flood into his eyes... \- “Congratulations,” a robotic voice said, in that long moment when everything was white. “Human species has advanced to round 2. Please wait kindly for the rest of the participants to finish their simulations. Then qualified species will commence round 2...” \- [r/penguin347](https://reddit.com/r/penguin347)	The world has changed. A deadly virus, now titled Omega-Virus or OV for short has spread through the world. I’d compare it to wildfire, but it spread so much faster and was so much more deadly. No one had survived. Everyone who had contracted the disease had passed away. Everyone in the world has contracted the virus. How, or where it came from is unclear. All we know it is deadly. In case of more intelligent life visiting after our demise. We decided to wipe the Earth from existence. We are blowing up the Sun as one last hurrah. I am the mission commander. The final mission. There was no greater honour. Yet it felt wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Something seemed off. It was such a drastic plan. Half of all life had already been wiped out and more was dying by the day. I was only a few hours from the drop point. The final destination. I was waiting for a radio signal, a sign of hope that a cure had successfully been created. That we didn’t need to end the world. But it never did. So I floated closer to the sun. I was merely a human in a ship no larger than a bus. Carrying a bomb strong enough to destroy the sun. A burden I would have to live with for the mere seconds it took to kill me. “Mission control. This is The Final Mission reporting in. T - 1 minute till I drop the payload. Repeat, T - 1 minute until I drop the payload at final destination. “Good luck son. No news here. OV is still wiping the face of the planet. This is the right choice. For all future life, anywhere in the universe.” “Roger.” I hopped off the intercom. Leaning back in the pilot seat. So this was it. The end of humanity. Maybe we deserved it, maybe not. Maybe we would have destroyed ourselves without needing an Omega Virus. My finger hovered over the trigger. Should I wait.. throw the whole mission. No... I had a duty. I had to finish this. My final mission. The final mission. CLICK I watched the missile fire. The final payload. Boosting into the sun. CRACKLE “Commander, HOLD. DO NOT FIRE. A temporary... CRSHKKSH ... has been ... SKRSHK ... it may save humanity...” I sat there. It was too late. I watched as the sun shrunk. My final moments, burned into forever. Fin! More of my stories at r/DougysDramatics if you want to read them!
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	"My stars! Look Alieus, they are thriving!" Alieus snorts delicately. "Yes, but that is to be expected. What have they accomplished?" Moonie furrows his brow, peering at Planet Test One. "Oh well look, they may have no astral abilities..." -another snort from his shipmate- "... but see here! They have harnessed the planet's resources to aid themselves! See their little toys?" Moonie smiles in delight. "I see electricity, cars, all sorts of little inventions!" "Yes, very clever, but Planet Test 2 has already entered the Space Age. When can we expect that from Planet Test One?" Moonie comes to Planet Test One's defense. "We can most cert-" Alieus cuts him off, much to Moonie's chagrin. "No, Moonie. Don't look at me like that. It's sweet you care but my question was mostly rhetorical. You know why their evolution ends here." Alieus gives Moonie a pointed look. Never one to give up on the underdogs, Moonie doggedly plows on with his defense. "We need to give them a chance! They have learned to do so much, even when faced with difficulties. We have always known they would struggle with development because they are the first! Yet they still persevere. Give me one solid, reasonable, point why we must give up on them now?" Moonie finishes desperately. Alieus sighs, and says tiredly "Because they still say things like 'on accident' instead 'by accident'." Moonie gives up his argument, seeing the hopelessness of the situation. Silently, they prepare their spacecraft for departure, which takes a matter of seconds. Moonie looks sadly at his favourite planet. "I had such high hopes for you." he whispers softly. The creators depart, never to return. **** Edit::I don't mean anything negative by it, but I couldn't help myself and hope it's taken in good light as it's meant to be :) Written in my phone, excuse any errors (though feel free to ironically point them out!) and the formatting.	Squimajabbalin 1: “These humans are amazing Quizblorp! How have they achieved so much without a soul connection to the etherweave? Does it have something to do with mystic incantations? Maybe it has something to do with some of their species’ insistence on the improper use of ‘on accident’ instead of ‘by accident’.” Squimajabbalin 2: “But Heeboo, to be fair, they do say ‘on purpose’...” Squimajabbalin 1: “No Quizblorp! Haven’t you been paying attention to your studies of these creatures’ languages? That just makes ‘on purpose’ make less sense, not the other way around!” Squimajabbalin 2: “By all that is soul-loving! You’re correct Heeboo! No wonder they have thrived. With a typical intellect that can handle such intricacies, they must be monumentally intelligent!” Edit: Sqiumajabbalin 1: “But Quizblorp, there’s even more to their power! Through concentrated ignorance they can change the very meaning of their words. In the face of criticism or even after being proven wrong, they can combine their ignorance with stubbornness and arrogance to deny the truth. They could even take offence to this very conversation...” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Heeboo that sounds preposterous! Such power over reality, by will alone, without even the tiniest tear in the etherweave?!” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “Indeed Quizblorp, with enough time and the help of legion co-conspirators, the fabled ‘Webster Chronicle of Diction’ can force the words to eventually lose the memory of what they once were, and morph into something simultaneously contradictory and moronic” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Absurd! Can you imagine if igglefloop suddenly changed to mean igglefling?!? Their would be mass hysteria! The governing council of Eldersouls would surely collapse and the rest of our interstellar society with it! Soul connections or no... we would surely be doomed” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “My conclusion as well Quizblorp. Soul-call the nearest way-spirit and send this discovery to the council. It’s time to summon the harbinger of souls!”
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	Reserve Lieutenant Sergei Brent Verohauven 22nd March, 2209 Personal Datalog &#x200B; You know, as far as alien movies go, none of them portray the actual aliens correctly. Visual representations are far off - the ones standing approximately 30 meters in front of my squad and the Colonel remind one of humans, mixed with reptiles, mixed with birds. It's quite bizarre to look at, but far different from the generic South District movie representations. Another thing the movies get wrong is tech. Or rather, the lack thereof. I'm fairly sure the leading alien explained it where this magic shit comes from, but I didn't listen. The guy has been going on for a good 20 minutes now. And that's the last thing the movies get wrong. The arrogance. When we were sent to make first contact with an alien landing party, the first alien encounter in the history of mankind, we get this: Three guys, apparently dressed in religious garb, standing in front. Five guys, apparently some guards, standing in the back. And the leader is going on and on about loads of stuff you'd never want to tell a citizen of the United Sol Federation. To them, we are 'uncivilized', 'unenlightened' apparently, just because we can't make glowing shit appear from our hands. They're going to 'civilize' us, 'show us the light of' some unpronouncable name, he says. And he has the audacity to do that standing in front of a Reserve squad. Now, granted. The reserve is badly equipped. We always get the old stuff, the ones that the Regulars replace. Any Regular squad could decimate an entire Reserve company without many problems. Our Type 5 infantry reactive shields? Out of date, easily penetrable. V223 assault transports? Laughable in comparison to the new V700. Mk. 7 Stealth BDUs? Any Regular has a sensors pack sensitive enough to see through that. But in comparison with these aliens, even we seem scary. According to sensors, the five guards are generating a shield for the three guys in front. The Type 5 trumps that thing by factor 10 in terms of shield strength and structural integrity. Our Mk. 7 Stealth BDUs? I don't think they have even noticed Fireteam Bravo setting up the MG2170, and they're only operating on visual and thermal stealth! My HUD updates. It's official. One of their wannabe space ships has boarded a civilian freighter. The Colonel speaks to me over the comm. We raise out weapons and pull the triggers.	Squimajabbalin 1: “These humans are amazing Quizblorp! How have they achieved so much without a soul connection to the etherweave? Does it have something to do with mystic incantations? Maybe it has something to do with some of their species’ insistence on the improper use of ‘on accident’ instead of ‘by accident’.” Squimajabbalin 2: “But Heeboo, to be fair, they do say ‘on purpose’...” Squimajabbalin 1: “No Quizblorp! Haven’t you been paying attention to your studies of these creatures’ languages? That just makes ‘on purpose’ make less sense, not the other way around!” Squimajabbalin 2: “By all that is soul-loving! You’re correct Heeboo! No wonder they have thrived. With a typical intellect that can handle such intricacies, they must be monumentally intelligent!” Edit: Sqiumajabbalin 1: “But Quizblorp, there’s even more to their power! Through concentrated ignorance they can change the very meaning of their words. In the face of criticism or even after being proven wrong, they can combine their ignorance with stubbornness and arrogance to deny the truth. They could even take offence to this very conversation...” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Heeboo that sounds preposterous! Such power over reality, by will alone, without even the tiniest tear in the etherweave?!” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “Indeed Quizblorp, with enough time and the help of legion co-conspirators, the fabled ‘Webster Chronicle of Diction’ can force the words to eventually lose the memory of what they once were, and morph into something simultaneously contradictory and moronic” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Absurd! Can you imagine if igglefloop suddenly changed to mean igglefling?!? Their would be mass hysteria! The governing council of Eldersouls would surely collapse and the rest of our interstellar society with it! Soul connections or no... we would surely be doomed” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “My conclusion as well Quizblorp. Soul-call the nearest way-spirit and send this discovery to the council. It’s time to summon the harbinger of souls!”
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	They looked so alien. Moving in a mechanical way. Not gliding or simply occupying the allspace like we do. But instead moving one part of their being in front of them in a series of motions. Slowly moving trough space. So alien. Just like their technology. Humans they called themselves. They could not see us, but we could see them. &#x200B; We had stumbled upon the human race while voyaging trough the universe. As beings of magic, distances were of no concern. But a part of the universe had been a mystery to us for thousands of years, until now. You see, our scientists had known for a while that the universe existed in two separate realms, where our realm was a mix of solid matter and magic. 85% in total to be exact, and the rest seemed to be some sort of other invisible matter. That was until last year. &#x200B; Last year our leading Archmaester, which is only second to the Ethereal Guardians, had developed the magic to look into another part of the universe. The unknown that we had theorised about but not seen. It was quite simple actually, once you though about it. Who knew that polarising the photon trough a double antimatter magic-lens would literally reveal a whole new world? Well, I guess most things are simple once someone has shown the way. Anyway, this in turn had awarded him the grand price in Vision-theory and the Xeno-award for the discovery of an alien realm filled with life. Whiteworld we had named it due to the realms ability to shine white light. &#x200B; Our latest theory said that this realm was the result of our reckless use of magic in our realm. That this was the biproduct of using magic. The laws of conservation of magic had been one of our strongest guidelines; it told us that magic could not be created nor destroyed. Rather, it can only be transformed or transferred from one form to another. But was that true? Or was there something more to it as the new theory claimed? This new theory had horrified me deep in my corona. What would happen to our world when the magic was gone? Are we slowly turning into this world? I had to know. &#x200B; So here I was, studying the life of this strange world dominated by creatures with long limbs. Most dominant of the species was the human race. And the most fascinating thing was their development of technology which every other species had failed to do in our realm. It was astonishing how far they had come since they seemed to have no ability to use magic. Was this a basic law in the universe? We could only create what we ourselves are in essence? Beings of magic are limited to the laws of magic and beings of physical motion are limited to their mechanical energy? Was that it? Was that the secret? That we could only create children of our own reality? But what about the energy they used in this world? Was it like the law of conservation of magic? Or was it like the new law of intertransformation of magic? Did the energy simply change into a new type of energy or did it pass on into another realm like our magic? &#x200B; My thoughcluster spun and I felt dizzy. I had to anchor myself in a consistent location for a while. Just untill the dizziness cleared. This was a rare practise amongst my kind. I only knew of a couple of others who could do the anchoring. But it helped when I felt dizzy, so I did it once in a while. And as I gathered myself a larger human and a smaller human passed me by in their awkward, yet strangely exiciting way. The smaller of the two stopped and looked in my direction. Could it see me? Like I saw it? No, it must be looking at something else. But yes, it had to be looking at me. I panicked and changed back to being in the allspace. Had I just experienceds first contact? I had to try again. And as I anchored myself once more, the smaller human spoke to the other while looking at me: "Do you belive in ghosts, daddy?". "No. There are no things as ghost, Liz", the larger one said. "There is only the here and now". &#x200B; I was exhilerated. I had found a way to communicate. &#x200B; Edit: Sorry for any bad spelling. English is not my native language :)	Squimajabbalin 1: “These humans are amazing Quizblorp! How have they achieved so much without a soul connection to the etherweave? Does it have something to do with mystic incantations? Maybe it has something to do with some of their species’ insistence on the improper use of ‘on accident’ instead of ‘by accident’.” Squimajabbalin 2: “But Heeboo, to be fair, they do say ‘on purpose’...” Squimajabbalin 1: “No Quizblorp! Haven’t you been paying attention to your studies of these creatures’ languages? That just makes ‘on purpose’ make less sense, not the other way around!” Squimajabbalin 2: “By all that is soul-loving! You’re correct Heeboo! No wonder they have thrived. With a typical intellect that can handle such intricacies, they must be monumentally intelligent!” Edit: Sqiumajabbalin 1: “But Quizblorp, there’s even more to their power! Through concentrated ignorance they can change the very meaning of their words. In the face of criticism or even after being proven wrong, they can combine their ignorance with stubbornness and arrogance to deny the truth. They could even take offence to this very conversation...” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Heeboo that sounds preposterous! Such power over reality, by will alone, without even the tiniest tear in the etherweave?!” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “Indeed Quizblorp, with enough time and the help of legion co-conspirators, the fabled ‘Webster Chronicle of Diction’ can force the words to eventually lose the memory of what they once were, and morph into something simultaneously contradictory and moronic” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Absurd! Can you imagine if igglefloop suddenly changed to mean igglefling?!? Their would be mass hysteria! The governing council of Eldersouls would surely collapse and the rest of our interstellar society with it! Soul connections or no... we would surely be doomed” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “My conclusion as well Quizblorp. Soul-call the nearest way-spirit and send this discovery to the council. It’s time to summon the harbinger of souls!”
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	It never occured to me that the universe had a set of command codes. Then I wondered, why hadn't anyone bothered to tell Earth? I would have thought humans had a right to feel slighted, but the full shock of a giant castle-like ship suddenly appearing 50 feet over a cornfield in Iowa overshadowed my personal feelings. Why is it always America, in in the middle of farmland, I wondered. The thing kind of made a *POOF!* sound as it touched down. There was glitter everywhere that seemed to disappear as you wiped it off of things. Kind of like it knew to take a hint. Farmer Bob here could have created an incident, but I had the wherewithal to drive straight through the field, distracting him long enough to get the gun he'd had pointed at the sparkly Renaissance Faire traipsing out of the large wood-like portal that had immediately flopped down as soon as the castle touched down. They weren't human, but they didn't exactly look harmful. Kind of like a cross between plants and muppets, but with skin instead of felt. It didn't take long for them to wander in wonder into the barn and try to communicate with the livestock. The one I took for the leader "merrily" barked orders, and they all fell into line. I extended my hand, as one does, but their leader looked at it oddly, seemingly expecting something to come out of it. A much more human-like, wizard-like figure floated into the barn, waved his hands around, creating these odd glowing words and line-pictures in the air, complete with more glitter, which suddenly poofed into my face. "Can I have my gun back now, colonel?" Bob asked, impatiently. "Not just yet, okay? We don't want to start an incident," I responded, shaking glitter off of my hat. The wizard, slightly lavender in hue, with four emerald-green eyes, floated toward me. "Who is your master, Tree Minion?" I looked back at him, puzzled, as he seemed to speak English. Then I realized I was still wearing my camo uniform. "I'm a colonel in the United States Army, and this is just my uniform. Thomas Pattison." I held out my hand again. The mage, eyeing it like the previous leader, glanced back at me, and slowly reached for it. I shook his six-fingered hand. "It's a hand shake. It's a customary greeting here." Yep, I completely forgot about quarantine protocol, what with this circus show going on. Just then, my cell phone rang, and without thinking, I answered it. Some of the glitter still on my hand swirled around it as I responded to the instructions coming from the Pentagon. The wizard reached out, the glitter flowed back to him and he waved his hands around, conjuring more glyphs. "How do you command the elements without magic, Thomas Pattison?" "I'm sorry, what?" "Magic is how we travel the stars, meet new peoples, and claim new worlds." "Are you claiming Earth? Is that why you're here?" I'd left my phone stay connected, and I could hear the telltale bips of the surveillance equipment listening in. The wizard looked at me again, still with wonder in his eyes, then he looked aside, as if to think, then closed all four eyes, waved his arms in the air wildly, glitter and now sparks flying everywhere. Just then, a squadron of fighter jets thundered overhead. Off in the distance, I could hear choppers approaching from past the interstate. "They're going to want answers," I said, gesturing toward the sky. Glitter now poured out of the barn, possibly affecting the jets and helos. At least that's what I gathered from the loud clamor I could hear coming from the radio in my Jeep. The wizard closed his eyes again, wildly gesturing his glyphs as glitter poured back into the barn. "What is it you're doing there?" I asked. He seemed as puzzled by my question as I was by his theatrics. "The universe obeys those who know its language. We mages speak that language. We interpret the energies, speak to the disembodied beings that rule the unseen. "Your kind fires metal birds through the sky, controlled by sparks and elements without any knowledge of how to command them. It is as if you take the letters of the words I speak, bend them to your own will, and ride your world as if a tamed majestic beast. It is not yours, but it soon will be. "We mean no harm to you, oh great ones! We seek out worlds without magic and tame them, giving new life to their inhabitants. But none of us have ever mastered the universe without obeying millenia of magical practice, the laws written in the stars. Your kind, you completely ignore the will of the universe, and simply grapple it by the horns and ride it untamed!" "Um, thank you?" Bob looked at like I was crazy, but I was trying to be nice, satiate this dizzying fantasyland, stall them, perhaps. "You best git on outta here, freaks," Bob finally bellowed. Startled, the wizard, flailed his hands around some more, and then aimed at my phone again. It spun in midair, full of glitter, then settled back into my hand. The wizard uttered some unintelligible words, the muppet leader, echoed them, and the weird array of creatures sauntered quickly, yet still merrily, back toward their castle. Just before the door closed, the wizard pointed to my phone and it rang. "Hello?" I answered. His voice responded. "Give and take, Thomas Pattison. Give and take. Others will trample you as heretics. Learn some shortcuts. Take good care of your world, and it will respond in kind." And just like that, POOF! \---- Shortcut. That word echoed in my mind in the following months that Bob and I sat, isolated in interrogations for hours each day. The day they released each of us, Bob looked at me, uttered a huff of disdain, and drove his pickup truck off of the base and into the dusty roads. As I sat in my Jeep, I looked at my phone. There was a new panel on my home screen. I swiped over, and in the middle was an animated icon of an app I didn't remember downloading. I tapped it as a reflex, and what I saw — well, I can't really describe it. It was English words, but symbols, too. I couldn't tell if I was translating in my mind, or the app was. But it was the wizard's letters for sure. I clicked on a #1, and somehow in my mind I saw this: >Welcome to the Reigns of the Universe. We will show you how they work. But you will help us learn why they work. If you do this, you will help advance your world, and we will protect you. Do you accept these terms of service, yes or no?"	Squimajabbalin 1: “These humans are amazing Quizblorp! How have they achieved so much without a soul connection to the etherweave? Does it have something to do with mystic incantations? Maybe it has something to do with some of their species’ insistence on the improper use of ‘on accident’ instead of ‘by accident’.” Squimajabbalin 2: “But Heeboo, to be fair, they do say ‘on purpose’...” Squimajabbalin 1: “No Quizblorp! Haven’t you been paying attention to your studies of these creatures’ languages? That just makes ‘on purpose’ make less sense, not the other way around!” Squimajabbalin 2: “By all that is soul-loving! You’re correct Heeboo! No wonder they have thrived. With a typical intellect that can handle such intricacies, they must be monumentally intelligent!” Edit: Sqiumajabbalin 1: “But Quizblorp, there’s even more to their power! Through concentrated ignorance they can change the very meaning of their words. In the face of criticism or even after being proven wrong, they can combine their ignorance with stubbornness and arrogance to deny the truth. They could even take offence to this very conversation...” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Heeboo that sounds preposterous! Such power over reality, by will alone, without even the tiniest tear in the etherweave?!” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “Indeed Quizblorp, with enough time and the help of legion co-conspirators, the fabled ‘Webster Chronicle of Diction’ can force the words to eventually lose the memory of what they once were, and morph into something simultaneously contradictory and moronic” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Absurd! Can you imagine if igglefloop suddenly changed to mean igglefling?!? Their would be mass hysteria! The governing council of Eldersouls would surely collapse and the rest of our interstellar society with it! Soul connections or no... we would surely be doomed” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “My conclusion as well Quizblorp. Soul-call the nearest way-spirit and send this discovery to the council. It’s time to summon the harbinger of souls!”
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	"3...2...1!" I took the photo, gave Marie a quick kiss, then turned the camera around to see how it turned out. Even after taking hundreds of photos (honeymoon, first overseas trip, and being in Rome all adds up to lots of pics), I still hadn't quite mastered the DSLR selfie. Marie and I looked at the camera screen and were speechless. It wasn't that I'd perfectly framed St. Peter's Basilica on the first try that shocked us. It was the hole in the air behind us, edged in lightning. &#x200B; We turned around and stared at the hole. Through it we could see a dark sky and some sort of stone building. I didn't notice many details because out of the hole stepped a creature straight out of Greek legend. It looked vaguely human, though with green skin, reptilian eyes, and snake-like waving hair. Medusa, right there in St. Peter's Square with us. &#x200B; The creature stepped toward us on hoof-like feet. The portal closed behind it. "Ciao! Io sono Giuseppe. Non posso credere di essere finalmente qui! Anche se non sembri Ublariani." &#x200B; Marie's eyes went wide. I turned to her. "Is it speaking...Italian?" I asked. &#x200B; She laughed nervously and said, "Yeah, sure sounded like it." She pulled out her phone. "I think this justifies using some international data." &#x200B; I nodded as she turned on her data and opened a translator app. The creatures purple eyes tracked the phone, its snake-hair slowing its waving while it watched Marie set up the phone for real-time translation. &#x200B; Marie looked up and said, "Hello!" A second later, the phone said, "Ciao!" &#x200B; The creature stepped back and raised its hands. "Che diavolo è questo?" &#x200B; "What devilry is this?" Marie's phone translated. We looked at each other, then back at the creature. &#x200B; "It's a translator. It helps us understand each other," Marie said, then waited while the phone translated. &#x200B; The creature hissed, then the snake hair started waving a little more quickly. "Ah, you have trapped a klaxalta in that piece of glass!" &#x200B; I furrowed my brow, "I'm not sure what a klaxalta is, but we didn't tra-" &#x200B; "That's not important." Marie interrupted. "We are Marie and James. What is your name?" &#x200B; The creature stared at the phone while it translated, then looked back at us. "Hello Marie and James, I am Joseph. Do all Ublarians use this klaxata-glass to speak?" &#x200B; While I was still struggling to pick which of my many questions to ask, Marie said, "Hi...Joseph. We are from a different place, so we speak a different language. This helps us understand the people here. It's called a smartphone." &#x200B; "I see. It is a little clumsy. I am able to anchor my spell in myself so that I do not need to carry a glass around. My spell allows me to speak the local language." It smiled, which was a little disconcerting because of the sharp, red teeth. But he held up his hands, I suppose to show how empty they were. &#x200B; "So, you use a...spell...to speak Italian? Where do you come from?" &#x200B; "I come from Lashu. This is my first time through the portal to a different world. What world do you come from?" &#x200B; "Right here on Earth," I said, gesturing around me. "But we flew here from different country on a different part of the planet." &#x200B; Joseph's snake hair started wriggling faster then ever. "You have mastered the flying spell? I have been working on it for some time, but I have difficulty. Look!" It closed its eyes, then rose a few inches above the ground. It opened its eyes, smiled and asked, "Can you show me your mastery? I would love to observe your aura as you do so." &#x200B; Marie and I stepped back. I said, "Well, we don't use a...spell. We fly in a machine." &#x200B; Joseph came back down to the ground. "A...machine. You mean, technology? But that's just a myth!" &#x200B; "You mean your spells are...magic?" Marie asked. &#x200B; The creature said, "Of course! Do you think technology could do that?" It gestured back at the portal. &#x200B; "You have a point," I said. &#x200B; By now quite the crowd had gathered. I looked around and noticed some Swiss Guards approaching. "Joseph, do you know protection spells. You look a little...threatening." Joseph looked around and noticed the guards. &#x200B; "What colorful costumes! Hello, I am Joseph!" The guards lowered their halberds towards Joseph and some more men approached, leveling guns at the creature. Joseph's snake-hair drooped and it raised its hands. "I am simply visiting! I mean no harm." &#x200B; "Come with us!" One of the men with a gun, wearing a black leather jacket, said (speaking Italian, obviously, with no need for a translator app). &#x200B; Joseph looked around one more time, said something, and time...fuzzed. Then he and the portal were gone. I looked around. Everyone seemed a little confused. The men with the guns lowered them, looked around, then refocused on us. "You will come with us," leather jacket said. &#x200B; We were locked in a room in a part of the Vatican we probably never would have seen otherwise. Of course, the room wasn't covered in some hidden Michelangelo or Raphael fresco. It was just white walls, a table, and a few chairs. Over the course of the next hour, we were asked several questions about the creature, almost none of which we were able to answer, of course. &#x200B; We were both sitting, a little shell-shocked. Marie grabbed my hand. "Well, you promised me adventure on our honeymoon." &#x200B; I smiled, "And magical surprises." We laughed a little, but the strain was obvious. &#x200B; Then lightning split the air in front of us. Joseph stuck his head out, "Come on!" And he reached his hand out to us." Marie and I looked at each other. "And a whole new world!" We laughed and jumped through the portal into Joseph's world.	Squimajabbalin 1: “These humans are amazing Quizblorp! How have they achieved so much without a soul connection to the etherweave? Does it have something to do with mystic incantations? Maybe it has something to do with some of their species’ insistence on the improper use of ‘on accident’ instead of ‘by accident’.” Squimajabbalin 2: “But Heeboo, to be fair, they do say ‘on purpose’...” Squimajabbalin 1: “No Quizblorp! Haven’t you been paying attention to your studies of these creatures’ languages? That just makes ‘on purpose’ make less sense, not the other way around!” Squimajabbalin 2: “By all that is soul-loving! You’re correct Heeboo! No wonder they have thrived. With a typical intellect that can handle such intricacies, they must be monumentally intelligent!” Edit: Sqiumajabbalin 1: “But Quizblorp, there’s even more to their power! Through concentrated ignorance they can change the very meaning of their words. In the face of criticism or even after being proven wrong, they can combine their ignorance with stubbornness and arrogance to deny the truth. They could even take offence to this very conversation...” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Heeboo that sounds preposterous! Such power over reality, by will alone, without even the tiniest tear in the etherweave?!” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “Indeed Quizblorp, with enough time and the help of legion co-conspirators, the fabled ‘Webster Chronicle of Diction’ can force the words to eventually lose the memory of what they once were, and morph into something simultaneously contradictory and moronic” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Absurd! Can you imagine if igglefloop suddenly changed to mean igglefling?!? Their would be mass hysteria! The governing council of Eldersouls would surely collapse and the rest of our interstellar society with it! Soul connections or no... we would surely be doomed” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “My conclusion as well Quizblorp. Soul-call the nearest way-spirit and send this discovery to the council. It’s time to summon the harbinger of souls!”
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	Kor stands next to me on the roof of one of their towers of Stone and Steel as we look out on the miserable world the people of this world have created for one another. &#x200B; "I don't understand it," I say to him. "How is it that they have come so far, in the ten thousand years since building their first temples, yet they have forgotten Divinity so thoroughly?" &#x200B; For all people of the stars, communion with the universe is an act of personal union and relationship, and it is something we find that humans might refer to as "magic." &#x200B; In this textual and rhythmic reality we all share, it is music that underlies every action and interaction. We are all involved in a great dance together, across the stars, turning and driving forward. &#x200B; Yet the people of this world seem deaf to it. &#x200B; "It's a mystery to me as well. We've been all over this world. Their technology is as dead as their religion - neither their attempts to reach heavenward, nor their attempts to find meaning within the dirt seem to have helped them awaken to the Song. But I think I have an idea of where they've gone wrong." &#x200B; They don't notice us, of course, as we walk off the edge of this spire, and start trekking down its glassy surface. Inside the tower, we see them toiling away at work that seems meaningless to me. We have shrouded ourselves from their perceptions, so as not to distress them. If they saw what we do, they might declare us Gods, which would be intolerable. &#x200B; Kor has been studying this little world longer than I have. He's a friend of mine. Working with uncontacted worlds, to help them awaken is a thankless task, and this seems like an especially stubborn world. Most realms like this awaken to the song within a mere couple thousand years, just as they are entering the earliest phases of their bronze age. But this world has long since discovered the power to make the Sun Rise Twice, and still, they have failed to understand the Oneness of the Music. &#x200B; I watch with distress as we walk down the spire, seeing their lifeless machines in the road below, spilling poison into their atmosphere, isolating them from one another in little cabins of numbness, endangering each other's lives so recklessly, and yet as casually as one of my people might dust a table off. Kor pauses a long time as we walk, musing. &#x200B; "It seems to me that the problem of this people is that they have begun from the bottom, and attempted to create a perfect model of the universe we live in out of parts. They start with particulars, and attempt to reach for universals - like trying to square the circle. Do you remember that old arithmetic problem?" &#x200B; "Of course. What do you mean by it, though?" &#x200B; "There is a certain relation between the linear and the circular - they call it PI, after a letter in one of their older languages, by the way." &#x200B; "Languages! They haven't even discovered The Language?" &#x200B; "No, and that seems to hint at their main problem. But first, squaring the circle. The Linear, and the Circular have a basic incompatibility, such that you cannot describe a circle in terms of a line, or vice versa, without assuming the value of the Ratio to begin with - the Ratio between a circle's diameter and its circumference cannot be arrived at precisely in terms of either. The Ratio can be circumscribed, but never attained." &#x200B; "Yes, I remember this now. So in this way, you can never construct a perfect circle by beginning with a square. So what has this to do with their failure to discover the music?" &#x200B; We wade through their street now, our conversation taking us down from the side of the spire into the midst of them. They're tall people - shockingly tall, really, bigger than the mightiest warriors of old. Their transport machines are loud, and ugly. They all seem to pass by one another without noticing one another, a sort of sterility in the air - they fail to make connections as they pass each other by, absorbed into their own moment, distracted by stress and pressure from above and below from their power to connect horizontally. &#x200B; "Their way of attempting to arrive at truth is much like squaring the circle - a mathematical problem they didn't even manage to discover was impossible until about 100 cycles around their sun. Their own perception of existence is wholly linear, and so they attempt to arrive at truth through circumscription - and the result is they go around and around in circles, chasing their tale." &#x200B; "Ah yes, I'm beginning to get the picture." &#x200B; "I think there's hope for them yet. There's a kernel of truth in all their religion. Their Christ, their Lao Zi, their Kong Fuzi, their Buddha, their Prophet, their Sagan - all these men have understood a bit of the truth. They have all understood a little of the Oneness. Right now, they're distracted - by blood, and treasure, and the sickness they have inflicted on their own mother." &#x200B; I smile. "They're lucky they do not possess the power to make her sick unto death. I've only seen a handful or civilizations that have poisoned their world almost as thoroughly as they have." &#x200B; "There is still hope for them. I really believe they're on the verge of an awakening - they only need a little prodding." &#x200B; "It's still a leviathan undertaking. And even once they have awakened, the humility to undo the damage they have already done to each other, and to forgive one another that damage, will be a lot to ask of them." &#x200B; "I have faith in them. We must, if we are to ask them to have faith in each other." &#x200B; I sigh, and shake my head fondly. Kor has always been stubborn, as long as I've known him. "I'm returning home to share your progress with the others." We have already been talking all day, long before this last conversation, of course. He's shown me around their world, given me a relative understanding of their way of life. The complexity of their nations, and their corporations is baffling to me. There's so little unity of purpose or design in it all. &#x200B; "Farewell, Kor. Be well. Love is the Law." &#x200B; "Love is the Law, my friend."	Squimajabbalin 1: “These humans are amazing Quizblorp! How have they achieved so much without a soul connection to the etherweave? Does it have something to do with mystic incantations? Maybe it has something to do with some of their species’ insistence on the improper use of ‘on accident’ instead of ‘by accident’.” Squimajabbalin 2: “But Heeboo, to be fair, they do say ‘on purpose’...” Squimajabbalin 1: “No Quizblorp! Haven’t you been paying attention to your studies of these creatures’ languages? That just makes ‘on purpose’ make less sense, not the other way around!” Squimajabbalin 2: “By all that is soul-loving! You’re correct Heeboo! No wonder they have thrived. With a typical intellect that can handle such intricacies, they must be monumentally intelligent!” Edit: Sqiumajabbalin 1: “But Quizblorp, there’s even more to their power! Through concentrated ignorance they can change the very meaning of their words. In the face of criticism or even after being proven wrong, they can combine their ignorance with stubbornness and arrogance to deny the truth. They could even take offence to this very conversation...” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Heeboo that sounds preposterous! Such power over reality, by will alone, without even the tiniest tear in the etherweave?!” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “Indeed Quizblorp, with enough time and the help of legion co-conspirators, the fabled ‘Webster Chronicle of Diction’ can force the words to eventually lose the memory of what they once were, and morph into something simultaneously contradictory and moronic” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Absurd! Can you imagine if igglefloop suddenly changed to mean igglefling?!? Their would be mass hysteria! The governing council of Eldersouls would surely collapse and the rest of our interstellar society with it! Soul connections or no... we would surely be doomed” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “My conclusion as well Quizblorp. Soul-call the nearest way-spirit and send this discovery to the council. It’s time to summon the harbinger of souls!”
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	The functionaries of the High Palace rarely saw a Storyteller; it would have been a career highlight for even a venerable member of that disregarded caste to be invited to the seat of Dallasi power. Yet this one was young, without even the customary white robe that marked a Storyteller who had spent ten cycles in the Great Library. And she was enraged. "Where are you, you stupid, posturing fuck?" Lord Mage Alakhrana felt a wholly unfamiliar mixture of rage and joy course though his veins at the sound of the intruder's voice. He hadn't been so much as contradicted in three full cycles. This would be fun. He drew himself up to his full height and turned to the tiny woman. "What makes you think you have the-" "Shut up before you fuck us all even harder, Alakhrana. Did you show off your magic in front of the humans in front of a fucking instrument array?" Alakhrana felt himself recoil slightly from the sheer venom of the Storyteller's rage. All the fun was gone now. He'd have to make an example of her once this unpleasantness was done. "What business is it of yours what I do to frighten the savages, theorist?" She didn't even flinch at the calculated insult. "It's my business because those monkeys are the fastest-adapting species in galactic history. We've been interstellar for nine thousand cycles and our grasp of magic is the same as it was nine thousand cycles ago. Those four-limbed lunatics don't even have any natural sources of magic, and when we found them fifty cycles ago they were already sticking souvenirs on other planets in their system. And you and your fucking idiot ego just handed them a pile of data on exactly what they needed. We're all fucked because you wanted to look cool in front of the savages." "How could you possibly know-" "That your little demonstration would ruin us? Because I'm a Storyteller. I've been reading about other species since I was a juvenile. The Khrolae have a book of predictions; so far, they're the only discovered species capable of using magic to tell the future. And they have a fucking great little horror story called the Enablement. Do you want to take a guess at what it's about?" Alakhrana stood silent. The entire court stood silent. "The Enablement is about the proud warrior who shows magic to the savages who've never seen it. The savages copy the warrior's movements and chants and learn how to use them. They learn how magic works in a way no species has ever before understood. They fuse magic to their own weapons, and slaughter entire civilisations. Nobody stands in their way. Every civilisation has had a total ban on magic usage in the presence of human observational equipment since someone connected the Khrolae story with humans. Every civilisation except us, because your idiot fucking caste system treats us Storytellers like shit. We've been screaming about the need for this ban for cycle after cycle, and you pompous fucks have been ignoring us." The Lord Mage finally found his voice. "What happens now?" The Storyteller smiled, an expression that was somehow predatory and immensely sad. "You get to decide one last thing. The story of the Enablement refers to the Traitors, a species that saw what was coming and decided survival as servants was better than death. You get to decide whether we all become housepets for the humans, or whether our children never see maturity." She strode out of the hall. There was a terrible silence.	Squimajabbalin 1: “These humans are amazing Quizblorp! How have they achieved so much without a soul connection to the etherweave? Does it have something to do with mystic incantations? Maybe it has something to do with some of their species’ insistence on the improper use of ‘on accident’ instead of ‘by accident’.” Squimajabbalin 2: “But Heeboo, to be fair, they do say ‘on purpose’...” Squimajabbalin 1: “No Quizblorp! Haven’t you been paying attention to your studies of these creatures’ languages? That just makes ‘on purpose’ make less sense, not the other way around!” Squimajabbalin 2: “By all that is soul-loving! You’re correct Heeboo! No wonder they have thrived. With a typical intellect that can handle such intricacies, they must be monumentally intelligent!” Edit: Sqiumajabbalin 1: “But Quizblorp, there’s even more to their power! Through concentrated ignorance they can change the very meaning of their words. In the face of criticism or even after being proven wrong, they can combine their ignorance with stubbornness and arrogance to deny the truth. They could even take offence to this very conversation...” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Heeboo that sounds preposterous! Such power over reality, by will alone, without even the tiniest tear in the etherweave?!” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “Indeed Quizblorp, with enough time and the help of legion co-conspirators, the fabled ‘Webster Chronicle of Diction’ can force the words to eventually lose the memory of what they once were, and morph into something simultaneously contradictory and moronic” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Absurd! Can you imagine if igglefloop suddenly changed to mean igglefling?!? Their would be mass hysteria! The governing council of Eldersouls would surely collapse and the rest of our interstellar society with it! Soul connections or no... we would surely be doomed” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “My conclusion as well Quizblorp. Soul-call the nearest way-spirit and send this discovery to the council. It’s time to summon the harbinger of souls!”
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	"W-What is.... that?" a green humanoid said as he looked through a special binocular. He was scanning the area around the chariot when he spotted a blue planet with a tint of green and brown on it. The chariot was manned by a five person crew and was on a regular exploration mission around the galaxy. This particular one was manned by two mages, one smith, and three soldiers – one of whom was the captain leading the mission. "Captain, I think we may encounter creatures – intelligent ones, capable of high-energy manipulation," said the same humanoid who initially spotted the planet. The captain, a veteran of hundreds of exploration mission stood up and said, "excellent. Now, Mage Hyyrt could you verify Mage Jrrtp's claims?" A rather shorter humanoid, took out a warped staff and pointed it at the planet. He chanted and shook the staff like he was inspecting its' content. Before long, the staff and the hands holding it vibrated vigorously. His weathered face suddenly lit up and he turned to face the captain. His cracked lips curled at the edges as he was about to report his discovery. "Hehehe, Captain! I... I think... the young Mage was c-corect! If we could get closer, I might even che–" "L-Look! Grand chariots, coming to our position!" said one of the soldiers, interrupting the older Mage. "As I was saying, Captain, we should establish contact... Let me scan the incoming chariot and use [Message] to talk to them," the annoyed older mage finished his interrupted thought. The captain nodded and the mages got to work. They took out a bunch of odd-looking items. Some vials with glowing alchemical liquids, a couple of glowing crystals, and some staffs of various sizes and make. The two then used some of the staffs and chanted [Message] at the direction of the grand chariot. Instead of getting a response, the two were dumbfounded as the effort did not bear fruit. The mages struggled to make the spell work, rotating through several different items before finally giving up. "C-Captain... It.... Seems that the spell [Message] did not make contact." The captain knew that magic had its' limitations, but something as simple as [Message] should've worked. He pondered on the possibility if the creatures commandeering the incoming chariot were one of the more hostile sort. Before making any rash decisions, he needed to guarantee the safety of his vessel and crew. As such, he told the two other soldiers to stand at the ready with their weapons in case things would go sour. The mages picked up on this and the younger mage prepared an enchanted mace whilst the older one consulted a book of spells to try and make contact. However, the incoming chariot was already in front of them less than 5 minutes since they had sprung into action. Fearing for the worst, but still maintaining caution to prevent provoking the other party, the captain took out a necklace and wore it. The necklace contained the spell [Maximise – Bridge of Thoughts] that would enable the invoker/caster to telepathically establish communication by looking into the eyes of the intended target, regardless of language barrier. He then scanned the glassed section of the front of the large chariot in front of him to find anyone whose eyes he could look into. Before long, a woman – with a headgear and pale-cream-coloured skin – looked out of the glass and he established contact. She seemed to be shocked but the Captain went to great details explaining their exploration mission and that they want to establish peaceful contact. The two vessels then went in tow to get down to the station which the woman had indicated to be their base. * After being properly received at the station, the crew of the exploration chariot had discovered things about the so-called 'humans' of the planet called by the locals as 'Earth'. The humans seemed to be wearing a uniform clothing, blue in colour, rather sturdy yet light in material. The younger mage – Jrrtp – took a rather keen interest on the clothing, as he himself dabbled in magical cloth-making research. The older mage – Hyyrt – seemed fascinated by the vessel, so-called 'spacecraft', as he had never seen the metallic materials that was used for its' hull. The two made such a fuss that the woman human, who was the commander of the whole station, seemed to be on guard especially when Jrrtp tried to touch her clothes. Apologies were made and the situation was cleared up when a human diplomat, who made the trouble to go up to the station from the planet, arrived. "Greetings, Captain! I am John Lawrence, a diplomat working for the United Nations of Earth. I've received the rudimentary explanation from the admiral," he signalled to the woman who initially received them and continued, "now, I'd like to convey our leaders' welcome and help you as best as we can to your mission." The Captain, the only one that could communicate with the humans, spoke, "thank you, Mr. Lawrence. W-We... we were wondering if you would be courteous enough to let us land and survey your planet. For the sake of the mission, of course." The humans, which amounted to the diplomat and his aides as well as the admiral, convened amongst themselves. They seemed to not be talking but rather rapidly tap on some strange glass-like devices with metal on the back. The glass glowed, so the crew of the chariot all surmised that it must be some sort of a magical device. Before long, the human diplomat coughed lightly to refocus the attention of the crew on him. "First, we apologise but letting you survey the planet would need to be discussed by our leaders' which might take quite some time," the diplomat clenched his hands together, "second, we could let you land on the planet but it would require you to be put in a 'quarantine' before doing so... which might take time but not as long as the discussion I've mentioned before." The captain then told the rest of the crew which all nodded at the same conclusion, "we would like to land on your planet as soon as possible, if you'd please." * Upon arrival on the blue planet called Earth, the crew of the exploration chariot were all flabbergasted. The mages – who were both awed at the various materials and technology they had seen on the station – almost went unconscious at the sight of the sprawling city they were taken into. Various metal and glass spires reached the skies and countless glowing glasses displayed an assortment of things on the sides. The glowing glasses were of similar make as the devices that the humans used on the station earlier but on a much more massive scale. The mages wanted to touch the glowing glasses and spires with the [Fly] spell, but the captain had to stop them. Even if the soldiers kept their calm, unlike the mages, they too were surprised. The two soldiers gasped and had their eyes popping as they saw the amount of people moving in various ways. They saw many riding on their own personal chariots, sitting in communal tube-like chariots, and riding on a metallic horse – some were on the ground whilst a few were flying through the sky. Back at their planet, not everyone could ride on chariots as they were expensive and quite labour-intensive to make with magic. Only soldiers, the wealthy, or the nobility could afford them. The captain – keeping his cool whilst still having his eyes darting around, taking in all the information – observed the human soldiers as they escorted him and his crew. He wondered if the compact weapons they were carrying – apparently called 'guns' – would do much damage when compared to their staffs and enchanted melee weapon. As they were all taking in the surrounding sights, the diplomat from the station greeted them once more. He could see the exploration chariot crew's faces and their subsequent amazement which resulted in his own amusement. After he let out a few chuckles – one reserved for an adult responding to a child's curiosity – the diplomat shook the Captain's hand. "I see you've seen things, well now I'd like you to come and we could discuss many more things," the diplomat said. "... Y-Yes! B-But before... before we continue, may I ask what kind of magic did you use for those?" the Captain said as he pointed to the guns. "Huh?" the diplomat seemed surprised but then said, "magic? To my knowledge, we simply use energy-bolts or gunpowder for the guns, don't we?" he looked to the soldiers for affirmation. The Captain told the mages and they screamed inaudibly in response. After a while, the Captain spoke again. "So, what about those things – the chariots? How do you enchant them to fly or move around like that?" the Captain pointed to the moving chariots. "Ch-Chariots? Er, I don't think... Well we have chariots drawn by horses, mostly for shows. Those things are called 'cars'. They're powered by electricity and petrol," the diplomat explained as he pointed to the many vehicles, "whilst those long tube-like things are called 'trains' and 'buses'. The shorter ones are the buses and the longer ones are buses, mostly they are all electric now." "E-Electric... Electricity... W-What is that?" the Captain stood in horror at the terrifying sounding word. The diplomat laughed and said, "Not to worry, almost everything you can see are powered by electricity! You see, they are these currents transferring charges which could make things move..."	Squimajabbalin 1: “These humans are amazing Quizblorp! How have they achieved so much without a soul connection to the etherweave? Does it have something to do with mystic incantations? Maybe it has something to do with some of their species’ insistence on the improper use of ‘on accident’ instead of ‘by accident’.” Squimajabbalin 2: “But Heeboo, to be fair, they do say ‘on purpose’...” Squimajabbalin 1: “No Quizblorp! Haven’t you been paying attention to your studies of these creatures’ languages? That just makes ‘on purpose’ make less sense, not the other way around!” Squimajabbalin 2: “By all that is soul-loving! You’re correct Heeboo! No wonder they have thrived. With a typical intellect that can handle such intricacies, they must be monumentally intelligent!” Edit: Sqiumajabbalin 1: “But Quizblorp, there’s even more to their power! Through concentrated ignorance they can change the very meaning of their words. In the face of criticism or even after being proven wrong, they can combine their ignorance with stubbornness and arrogance to deny the truth. They could even take offence to this very conversation...” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Heeboo that sounds preposterous! Such power over reality, by will alone, without even the tiniest tear in the etherweave?!” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “Indeed Quizblorp, with enough time and the help of legion co-conspirators, the fabled ‘Webster Chronicle of Diction’ can force the words to eventually lose the memory of what they once were, and morph into something simultaneously contradictory and moronic” Sqiumajabbalin 2: “Absurd! Can you imagine if igglefloop suddenly changed to mean igglefling?!? Their would be mass hysteria! The governing council of Eldersouls would surely collapse and the rest of our interstellar society with it! Soul connections or no... we would surely be doomed” Sqiumajabbalin 1: “My conclusion as well Quizblorp. Soul-call the nearest way-spirit and send this discovery to the council. It’s time to summon the harbinger of souls!”
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	Reserve Lieutenant Sergei Brent Verohauven 22nd March, 2209 Personal Datalog &#x200B; You know, as far as alien movies go, none of them portray the actual aliens correctly. Visual representations are far off - the ones standing approximately 30 meters in front of my squad and the Colonel remind one of humans, mixed with reptiles, mixed with birds. It's quite bizarre to look at, but far different from the generic South District movie representations. Another thing the movies get wrong is tech. Or rather, the lack thereof. I'm fairly sure the leading alien explained it where this magic shit comes from, but I didn't listen. The guy has been going on for a good 20 minutes now. And that's the last thing the movies get wrong. The arrogance. When we were sent to make first contact with an alien landing party, the first alien encounter in the history of mankind, we get this: Three guys, apparently dressed in religious garb, standing in front. Five guys, apparently some guards, standing in the back. And the leader is going on and on about loads of stuff you'd never want to tell a citizen of the United Sol Federation. To them, we are 'uncivilized', 'unenlightened' apparently, just because we can't make glowing shit appear from our hands. They're going to 'civilize' us, 'show us the light of' some unpronouncable name, he says. And he has the audacity to do that standing in front of a Reserve squad. Now, granted. The reserve is badly equipped. We always get the old stuff, the ones that the Regulars replace. Any Regular squad could decimate an entire Reserve company without many problems. Our Type 5 infantry reactive shields? Out of date, easily penetrable. V223 assault transports? Laughable in comparison to the new V700. Mk. 7 Stealth BDUs? Any Regular has a sensors pack sensitive enough to see through that. But in comparison with these aliens, even we seem scary. According to sensors, the five guards are generating a shield for the three guys in front. The Type 5 trumps that thing by factor 10 in terms of shield strength and structural integrity. Our Mk. 7 Stealth BDUs? I don't think they have even noticed Fireteam Bravo setting up the MG2170, and they're only operating on visual and thermal stealth! My HUD updates. It's official. One of their wannabe space ships has boarded a civilian freighter. The Colonel speaks to me over the comm. We raise out weapons and pull the triggers.	"My stars! Look Alieus, they are thriving!" Alieus snorts delicately. "Yes, but that is to be expected. What have they accomplished?" Moonie furrows his brow, peering at Planet Test One. "Oh well look, they may have no astral abilities..." -another snort from his shipmate- "... but see here! They have harnessed the planet's resources to aid themselves! See their little toys?" Moonie smiles in delight. "I see electricity, cars, all sorts of little inventions!" "Yes, very clever, but Planet Test 2 has already entered the Space Age. When can we expect that from Planet Test One?" Moonie comes to Planet Test One's defense. "We can most cert-" Alieus cuts him off, much to Moonie's chagrin. "No, Moonie. Don't look at me like that. It's sweet you care but my question was mostly rhetorical. You know why their evolution ends here." Alieus gives Moonie a pointed look. Never one to give up on the underdogs, Moonie doggedly plows on with his defense. "We need to give them a chance! They have learned to do so much, even when faced with difficulties. We have always known they would struggle with development because they are the first! Yet they still persevere. Give me one solid, reasonable, point why we must give up on them now?" Moonie finishes desperately. Alieus sighs, and says tiredly "Because they still say things like 'on accident' instead 'by accident'." Moonie gives up his argument, seeing the hopelessness of the situation. Silently, they prepare their spacecraft for departure, which takes a matter of seconds. Moonie looks sadly at his favourite planet. "I had such high hopes for you." he whispers softly. The creators depart, never to return. **** Edit::I don't mean anything negative by it, but I couldn't help myself and hope it's taken in good light as it's meant to be :) Written in my phone, excuse any errors (though feel free to ironically point them out!) and the formatting.
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	The functionaries of the High Palace rarely saw a Storyteller; it would have been a career highlight for even a venerable member of that disregarded caste to be invited to the seat of Dallasi power. Yet this one was young, without even the customary white robe that marked a Storyteller who had spent ten cycles in the Great Library. And she was enraged. "Where are you, you stupid, posturing fuck?" Lord Mage Alakhrana felt a wholly unfamiliar mixture of rage and joy course though his veins at the sound of the intruder's voice. He hadn't been so much as contradicted in three full cycles. This would be fun. He drew himself up to his full height and turned to the tiny woman. "What makes you think you have the-" "Shut up before you fuck us all even harder, Alakhrana. Did you show off your magic in front of the humans in front of a fucking instrument array?" Alakhrana felt himself recoil slightly from the sheer venom of the Storyteller's rage. All the fun was gone now. He'd have to make an example of her once this unpleasantness was done. "What business is it of yours what I do to frighten the savages, theorist?" She didn't even flinch at the calculated insult. "It's my business because those monkeys are the fastest-adapting species in galactic history. We've been interstellar for nine thousand cycles and our grasp of magic is the same as it was nine thousand cycles ago. Those four-limbed lunatics don't even have any natural sources of magic, and when we found them fifty cycles ago they were already sticking souvenirs on other planets in their system. And you and your fucking idiot ego just handed them a pile of data on exactly what they needed. We're all fucked because you wanted to look cool in front of the savages." "How could you possibly know-" "That your little demonstration would ruin us? Because I'm a Storyteller. I've been reading about other species since I was a juvenile. The Khrolae have a book of predictions; so far, they're the only discovered species capable of using magic to tell the future. And they have a fucking great little horror story called the Enablement. Do you want to take a guess at what it's about?" Alakhrana stood silent. The entire court stood silent. "The Enablement is about the proud warrior who shows magic to the savages who've never seen it. The savages copy the warrior's movements and chants and learn how to use them. They learn how magic works in a way no species has ever before understood. They fuse magic to their own weapons, and slaughter entire civilisations. Nobody stands in their way. Every civilisation has had a total ban on magic usage in the presence of human observational equipment since someone connected the Khrolae story with humans. Every civilisation except us, because your idiot fucking caste system treats us Storytellers like shit. We've been screaming about the need for this ban for cycle after cycle, and you pompous fucks have been ignoring us." The Lord Mage finally found his voice. "What happens now?" The Storyteller smiled, an expression that was somehow predatory and immensely sad. "You get to decide one last thing. The story of the Enablement refers to the Traitors, a species that saw what was coming and decided survival as servants was better than death. You get to decide whether we all become housepets for the humans, or whether our children never see maturity." She strode out of the hall. There was a terrible silence.	"My stars! Look Alieus, they are thriving!" Alieus snorts delicately. "Yes, but that is to be expected. What have they accomplished?" Moonie furrows his brow, peering at Planet Test One. "Oh well look, they may have no astral abilities..." -another snort from his shipmate- "... but see here! They have harnessed the planet's resources to aid themselves! See their little toys?" Moonie smiles in delight. "I see electricity, cars, all sorts of little inventions!" "Yes, very clever, but Planet Test 2 has already entered the Space Age. When can we expect that from Planet Test One?" Moonie comes to Planet Test One's defense. "We can most cert-" Alieus cuts him off, much to Moonie's chagrin. "No, Moonie. Don't look at me like that. It's sweet you care but my question was mostly rhetorical. You know why their evolution ends here." Alieus gives Moonie a pointed look. Never one to give up on the underdogs, Moonie doggedly plows on with his defense. "We need to give them a chance! They have learned to do so much, even when faced with difficulties. We have always known they would struggle with development because they are the first! Yet they still persevere. Give me one solid, reasonable, point why we must give up on them now?" Moonie finishes desperately. Alieus sighs, and says tiredly "Because they still say things like 'on accident' instead 'by accident'." Moonie gives up his argument, seeing the hopelessness of the situation. Silently, they prepare their spacecraft for departure, which takes a matter of seconds. Moonie looks sadly at his favourite planet. "I had such high hopes for you." he whispers softly. The creators depart, never to return. **** Edit::I don't mean anything negative by it, but I couldn't help myself and hope it's taken in good light as it's meant to be :) Written in my phone, excuse any errors (though feel free to ironically point them out!) and the formatting.
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	"3...2...1!" I took the photo, gave Marie a quick kiss, then turned the camera around to see how it turned out. Even after taking hundreds of photos (honeymoon, first overseas trip, and being in Rome all adds up to lots of pics), I still hadn't quite mastered the DSLR selfie. Marie and I looked at the camera screen and were speechless. It wasn't that I'd perfectly framed St. Peter's Basilica on the first try that shocked us. It was the hole in the air behind us, edged in lightning. &#x200B; We turned around and stared at the hole. Through it we could see a dark sky and some sort of stone building. I didn't notice many details because out of the hole stepped a creature straight out of Greek legend. It looked vaguely human, though with green skin, reptilian eyes, and snake-like waving hair. Medusa, right there in St. Peter's Square with us. &#x200B; The creature stepped toward us on hoof-like feet. The portal closed behind it. "Ciao! Io sono Giuseppe. Non posso credere di essere finalmente qui! Anche se non sembri Ublariani." &#x200B; Marie's eyes went wide. I turned to her. "Is it speaking...Italian?" I asked. &#x200B; She laughed nervously and said, "Yeah, sure sounded like it." She pulled out her phone. "I think this justifies using some international data." &#x200B; I nodded as she turned on her data and opened a translator app. The creatures purple eyes tracked the phone, its snake-hair slowing its waving while it watched Marie set up the phone for real-time translation. &#x200B; Marie looked up and said, "Hello!" A second later, the phone said, "Ciao!" &#x200B; The creature stepped back and raised its hands. "Che diavolo è questo?" &#x200B; "What devilry is this?" Marie's phone translated. We looked at each other, then back at the creature. &#x200B; "It's a translator. It helps us understand each other," Marie said, then waited while the phone translated. &#x200B; The creature hissed, then the snake hair started waving a little more quickly. "Ah, you have trapped a klaxalta in that piece of glass!" &#x200B; I furrowed my brow, "I'm not sure what a klaxalta is, but we didn't tra-" &#x200B; "That's not important." Marie interrupted. "We are Marie and James. What is your name?" &#x200B; The creature stared at the phone while it translated, then looked back at us. "Hello Marie and James, I am Joseph. Do all Ublarians use this klaxata-glass to speak?" &#x200B; While I was still struggling to pick which of my many questions to ask, Marie said, "Hi...Joseph. We are from a different place, so we speak a different language. This helps us understand the people here. It's called a smartphone." &#x200B; "I see. It is a little clumsy. I am able to anchor my spell in myself so that I do not need to carry a glass around. My spell allows me to speak the local language." It smiled, which was a little disconcerting because of the sharp, red teeth. But he held up his hands, I suppose to show how empty they were. &#x200B; "So, you use a...spell...to speak Italian? Where do you come from?" &#x200B; "I come from Lashu. This is my first time through the portal to a different world. What world do you come from?" &#x200B; "Right here on Earth," I said, gesturing around me. "But we flew here from different country on a different part of the planet." &#x200B; Joseph's snake hair started wriggling faster then ever. "You have mastered the flying spell? I have been working on it for some time, but I have difficulty. Look!" It closed its eyes, then rose a few inches above the ground. It opened its eyes, smiled and asked, "Can you show me your mastery? I would love to observe your aura as you do so." &#x200B; Marie and I stepped back. I said, "Well, we don't use a...spell. We fly in a machine." &#x200B; Joseph came back down to the ground. "A...machine. You mean, technology? But that's just a myth!" &#x200B; "You mean your spells are...magic?" Marie asked. &#x200B; The creature said, "Of course! Do you think technology could do that?" It gestured back at the portal. &#x200B; "You have a point," I said. &#x200B; By now quite the crowd had gathered. I looked around and noticed some Swiss Guards approaching. "Joseph, do you know protection spells. You look a little...threatening." Joseph looked around and noticed the guards. &#x200B; "What colorful costumes! Hello, I am Joseph!" The guards lowered their halberds towards Joseph and some more men approached, leveling guns at the creature. Joseph's snake-hair drooped and it raised its hands. "I am simply visiting! I mean no harm." &#x200B; "Come with us!" One of the men with a gun, wearing a black leather jacket, said (speaking Italian, obviously, with no need for a translator app). &#x200B; Joseph looked around one more time, said something, and time...fuzzed. Then he and the portal were gone. I looked around. Everyone seemed a little confused. The men with the guns lowered them, looked around, then refocused on us. "You will come with us," leather jacket said. &#x200B; We were locked in a room in a part of the Vatican we probably never would have seen otherwise. Of course, the room wasn't covered in some hidden Michelangelo or Raphael fresco. It was just white walls, a table, and a few chairs. Over the course of the next hour, we were asked several questions about the creature, almost none of which we were able to answer, of course. &#x200B; We were both sitting, a little shell-shocked. Marie grabbed my hand. "Well, you promised me adventure on our honeymoon." &#x200B; I smiled, "And magical surprises." We laughed a little, but the strain was obvious. &#x200B; Then lightning split the air in front of us. Joseph stuck his head out, "Come on!" And he reached his hand out to us." Marie and I looked at each other. "And a whole new world!" We laughed and jumped through the portal into Joseph's world.	They looked so alien. Moving in a mechanical way. Not gliding or simply occupying the allspace like we do. But instead moving one part of their being in front of them in a series of motions. Slowly moving trough space. So alien. Just like their technology. Humans they called themselves. They could not see us, but we could see them. &#x200B; We had stumbled upon the human race while voyaging trough the universe. As beings of magic, distances were of no concern. But a part of the universe had been a mystery to us for thousands of years, until now. You see, our scientists had known for a while that the universe existed in two separate realms, where our realm was a mix of solid matter and magic. 85% in total to be exact, and the rest seemed to be some sort of other invisible matter. That was until last year. &#x200B; Last year our leading Archmaester, which is only second to the Ethereal Guardians, had developed the magic to look into another part of the universe. The unknown that we had theorised about but not seen. It was quite simple actually, once you though about it. Who knew that polarising the photon trough a double antimatter magic-lens would literally reveal a whole new world? Well, I guess most things are simple once someone has shown the way. Anyway, this in turn had awarded him the grand price in Vision-theory and the Xeno-award for the discovery of an alien realm filled with life. Whiteworld we had named it due to the realms ability to shine white light. &#x200B; Our latest theory said that this realm was the result of our reckless use of magic in our realm. That this was the biproduct of using magic. The laws of conservation of magic had been one of our strongest guidelines; it told us that magic could not be created nor destroyed. Rather, it can only be transformed or transferred from one form to another. But was that true? Or was there something more to it as the new theory claimed? This new theory had horrified me deep in my corona. What would happen to our world when the magic was gone? Are we slowly turning into this world? I had to know. &#x200B; So here I was, studying the life of this strange world dominated by creatures with long limbs. Most dominant of the species was the human race. And the most fascinating thing was their development of technology which every other species had failed to do in our realm. It was astonishing how far they had come since they seemed to have no ability to use magic. Was this a basic law in the universe? We could only create what we ourselves are in essence? Beings of magic are limited to the laws of magic and beings of physical motion are limited to their mechanical energy? Was that it? Was that the secret? That we could only create children of our own reality? But what about the energy they used in this world? Was it like the law of conservation of magic? Or was it like the new law of intertransformation of magic? Did the energy simply change into a new type of energy or did it pass on into another realm like our magic? &#x200B; My thoughcluster spun and I felt dizzy. I had to anchor myself in a consistent location for a while. Just untill the dizziness cleared. This was a rare practise amongst my kind. I only knew of a couple of others who could do the anchoring. But it helped when I felt dizzy, so I did it once in a while. And as I gathered myself a larger human and a smaller human passed me by in their awkward, yet strangely exiciting way. The smaller of the two stopped and looked in my direction. Could it see me? Like I saw it? No, it must be looking at something else. But yes, it had to be looking at me. I panicked and changed back to being in the allspace. Had I just experienceds first contact? I had to try again. And as I anchored myself once more, the smaller human spoke to the other while looking at me: "Do you belive in ghosts, daddy?". "No. There are no things as ghost, Liz", the larger one said. "There is only the here and now". &#x200B; I was exhilerated. I had found a way to communicate. &#x200B; Edit: Sorry for any bad spelling. English is not my native language :)
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	The functionaries of the High Palace rarely saw a Storyteller; it would have been a career highlight for even a venerable member of that disregarded caste to be invited to the seat of Dallasi power. Yet this one was young, without even the customary white robe that marked a Storyteller who had spent ten cycles in the Great Library. And she was enraged. "Where are you, you stupid, posturing fuck?" Lord Mage Alakhrana felt a wholly unfamiliar mixture of rage and joy course though his veins at the sound of the intruder's voice. He hadn't been so much as contradicted in three full cycles. This would be fun. He drew himself up to his full height and turned to the tiny woman. "What makes you think you have the-" "Shut up before you fuck us all even harder, Alakhrana. Did you show off your magic in front of the humans in front of a fucking instrument array?" Alakhrana felt himself recoil slightly from the sheer venom of the Storyteller's rage. All the fun was gone now. He'd have to make an example of her once this unpleasantness was done. "What business is it of yours what I do to frighten the savages, theorist?" She didn't even flinch at the calculated insult. "It's my business because those monkeys are the fastest-adapting species in galactic history. We've been interstellar for nine thousand cycles and our grasp of magic is the same as it was nine thousand cycles ago. Those four-limbed lunatics don't even have any natural sources of magic, and when we found them fifty cycles ago they were already sticking souvenirs on other planets in their system. And you and your fucking idiot ego just handed them a pile of data on exactly what they needed. We're all fucked because you wanted to look cool in front of the savages." "How could you possibly know-" "That your little demonstration would ruin us? Because I'm a Storyteller. I've been reading about other species since I was a juvenile. The Khrolae have a book of predictions; so far, they're the only discovered species capable of using magic to tell the future. And they have a fucking great little horror story called the Enablement. Do you want to take a guess at what it's about?" Alakhrana stood silent. The entire court stood silent. "The Enablement is about the proud warrior who shows magic to the savages who've never seen it. The savages copy the warrior's movements and chants and learn how to use them. They learn how magic works in a way no species has ever before understood. They fuse magic to their own weapons, and slaughter entire civilisations. Nobody stands in their way. Every civilisation has had a total ban on magic usage in the presence of human observational equipment since someone connected the Khrolae story with humans. Every civilisation except us, because your idiot fucking caste system treats us Storytellers like shit. We've been screaming about the need for this ban for cycle after cycle, and you pompous fucks have been ignoring us." The Lord Mage finally found his voice. "What happens now?" The Storyteller smiled, an expression that was somehow predatory and immensely sad. "You get to decide one last thing. The story of the Enablement refers to the Traitors, a species that saw what was coming and decided survival as servants was better than death. You get to decide whether we all become housepets for the humans, or whether our children never see maturity." She strode out of the hall. There was a terrible silence.	They looked so alien. Moving in a mechanical way. Not gliding or simply occupying the allspace like we do. But instead moving one part of their being in front of them in a series of motions. Slowly moving trough space. So alien. Just like their technology. Humans they called themselves. They could not see us, but we could see them. &#x200B; We had stumbled upon the human race while voyaging trough the universe. As beings of magic, distances were of no concern. But a part of the universe had been a mystery to us for thousands of years, until now. You see, our scientists had known for a while that the universe existed in two separate realms, where our realm was a mix of solid matter and magic. 85% in total to be exact, and the rest seemed to be some sort of other invisible matter. That was until last year. &#x200B; Last year our leading Archmaester, which is only second to the Ethereal Guardians, had developed the magic to look into another part of the universe. The unknown that we had theorised about but not seen. It was quite simple actually, once you though about it. Who knew that polarising the photon trough a double antimatter magic-lens would literally reveal a whole new world? Well, I guess most things are simple once someone has shown the way. Anyway, this in turn had awarded him the grand price in Vision-theory and the Xeno-award for the discovery of an alien realm filled with life. Whiteworld we had named it due to the realms ability to shine white light. &#x200B; Our latest theory said that this realm was the result of our reckless use of magic in our realm. That this was the biproduct of using magic. The laws of conservation of magic had been one of our strongest guidelines; it told us that magic could not be created nor destroyed. Rather, it can only be transformed or transferred from one form to another. But was that true? Or was there something more to it as the new theory claimed? This new theory had horrified me deep in my corona. What would happen to our world when the magic was gone? Are we slowly turning into this world? I had to know. &#x200B; So here I was, studying the life of this strange world dominated by creatures with long limbs. Most dominant of the species was the human race. And the most fascinating thing was their development of technology which every other species had failed to do in our realm. It was astonishing how far they had come since they seemed to have no ability to use magic. Was this a basic law in the universe? We could only create what we ourselves are in essence? Beings of magic are limited to the laws of magic and beings of physical motion are limited to their mechanical energy? Was that it? Was that the secret? That we could only create children of our own reality? But what about the energy they used in this world? Was it like the law of conservation of magic? Or was it like the new law of intertransformation of magic? Did the energy simply change into a new type of energy or did it pass on into another realm like our magic? &#x200B; My thoughcluster spun and I felt dizzy. I had to anchor myself in a consistent location for a while. Just untill the dizziness cleared. This was a rare practise amongst my kind. I only knew of a couple of others who could do the anchoring. But it helped when I felt dizzy, so I did it once in a while. And as I gathered myself a larger human and a smaller human passed me by in their awkward, yet strangely exiciting way. The smaller of the two stopped and looked in my direction. Could it see me? Like I saw it? No, it must be looking at something else. But yes, it had to be looking at me. I panicked and changed back to being in the allspace. Had I just experienceds first contact? I had to try again. And as I anchored myself once more, the smaller human spoke to the other while looking at me: "Do you belive in ghosts, daddy?". "No. There are no things as ghost, Liz", the larger one said. "There is only the here and now". &#x200B; I was exhilerated. I had found a way to communicate. &#x200B; Edit: Sorry for any bad spelling. English is not my native language :)
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	"3...2...1!" I took the photo, gave Marie a quick kiss, then turned the camera around to see how it turned out. Even after taking hundreds of photos (honeymoon, first overseas trip, and being in Rome all adds up to lots of pics), I still hadn't quite mastered the DSLR selfie. Marie and I looked at the camera screen and were speechless. It wasn't that I'd perfectly framed St. Peter's Basilica on the first try that shocked us. It was the hole in the air behind us, edged in lightning. &#x200B; We turned around and stared at the hole. Through it we could see a dark sky and some sort of stone building. I didn't notice many details because out of the hole stepped a creature straight out of Greek legend. It looked vaguely human, though with green skin, reptilian eyes, and snake-like waving hair. Medusa, right there in St. Peter's Square with us. &#x200B; The creature stepped toward us on hoof-like feet. The portal closed behind it. "Ciao! Io sono Giuseppe. Non posso credere di essere finalmente qui! Anche se non sembri Ublariani." &#x200B; Marie's eyes went wide. I turned to her. "Is it speaking...Italian?" I asked. &#x200B; She laughed nervously and said, "Yeah, sure sounded like it." She pulled out her phone. "I think this justifies using some international data." &#x200B; I nodded as she turned on her data and opened a translator app. The creatures purple eyes tracked the phone, its snake-hair slowing its waving while it watched Marie set up the phone for real-time translation. &#x200B; Marie looked up and said, "Hello!" A second later, the phone said, "Ciao!" &#x200B; The creature stepped back and raised its hands. "Che diavolo è questo?" &#x200B; "What devilry is this?" Marie's phone translated. We looked at each other, then back at the creature. &#x200B; "It's a translator. It helps us understand each other," Marie said, then waited while the phone translated. &#x200B; The creature hissed, then the snake hair started waving a little more quickly. "Ah, you have trapped a klaxalta in that piece of glass!" &#x200B; I furrowed my brow, "I'm not sure what a klaxalta is, but we didn't tra-" &#x200B; "That's not important." Marie interrupted. "We are Marie and James. What is your name?" &#x200B; The creature stared at the phone while it translated, then looked back at us. "Hello Marie and James, I am Joseph. Do all Ublarians use this klaxata-glass to speak?" &#x200B; While I was still struggling to pick which of my many questions to ask, Marie said, "Hi...Joseph. We are from a different place, so we speak a different language. This helps us understand the people here. It's called a smartphone." &#x200B; "I see. It is a little clumsy. I am able to anchor my spell in myself so that I do not need to carry a glass around. My spell allows me to speak the local language." It smiled, which was a little disconcerting because of the sharp, red teeth. But he held up his hands, I suppose to show how empty they were. &#x200B; "So, you use a...spell...to speak Italian? Where do you come from?" &#x200B; "I come from Lashu. This is my first time through the portal to a different world. What world do you come from?" &#x200B; "Right here on Earth," I said, gesturing around me. "But we flew here from different country on a different part of the planet." &#x200B; Joseph's snake hair started wriggling faster then ever. "You have mastered the flying spell? I have been working on it for some time, but I have difficulty. Look!" It closed its eyes, then rose a few inches above the ground. It opened its eyes, smiled and asked, "Can you show me your mastery? I would love to observe your aura as you do so." &#x200B; Marie and I stepped back. I said, "Well, we don't use a...spell. We fly in a machine." &#x200B; Joseph came back down to the ground. "A...machine. You mean, technology? But that's just a myth!" &#x200B; "You mean your spells are...magic?" Marie asked. &#x200B; The creature said, "Of course! Do you think technology could do that?" It gestured back at the portal. &#x200B; "You have a point," I said. &#x200B; By now quite the crowd had gathered. I looked around and noticed some Swiss Guards approaching. "Joseph, do you know protection spells. You look a little...threatening." Joseph looked around and noticed the guards. &#x200B; "What colorful costumes! Hello, I am Joseph!" The guards lowered their halberds towards Joseph and some more men approached, leveling guns at the creature. Joseph's snake-hair drooped and it raised its hands. "I am simply visiting! I mean no harm." &#x200B; "Come with us!" One of the men with a gun, wearing a black leather jacket, said (speaking Italian, obviously, with no need for a translator app). &#x200B; Joseph looked around one more time, said something, and time...fuzzed. Then he and the portal were gone. I looked around. Everyone seemed a little confused. The men with the guns lowered them, looked around, then refocused on us. "You will come with us," leather jacket said. &#x200B; We were locked in a room in a part of the Vatican we probably never would have seen otherwise. Of course, the room wasn't covered in some hidden Michelangelo or Raphael fresco. It was just white walls, a table, and a few chairs. Over the course of the next hour, we were asked several questions about the creature, almost none of which we were able to answer, of course. &#x200B; We were both sitting, a little shell-shocked. Marie grabbed my hand. "Well, you promised me adventure on our honeymoon." &#x200B; I smiled, "And magical surprises." We laughed a little, but the strain was obvious. &#x200B; Then lightning split the air in front of us. Joseph stuck his head out, "Come on!" And he reached his hand out to us." Marie and I looked at each other. "And a whole new world!" We laughed and jumped through the portal into Joseph's world.	It never occured to me that the universe had a set of command codes. Then I wondered, why hadn't anyone bothered to tell Earth? I would have thought humans had a right to feel slighted, but the full shock of a giant castle-like ship suddenly appearing 50 feet over a cornfield in Iowa overshadowed my personal feelings. Why is it always America, in in the middle of farmland, I wondered. The thing kind of made a *POOF!* sound as it touched down. There was glitter everywhere that seemed to disappear as you wiped it off of things. Kind of like it knew to take a hint. Farmer Bob here could have created an incident, but I had the wherewithal to drive straight through the field, distracting him long enough to get the gun he'd had pointed at the sparkly Renaissance Faire traipsing out of the large wood-like portal that had immediately flopped down as soon as the castle touched down. They weren't human, but they didn't exactly look harmful. Kind of like a cross between plants and muppets, but with skin instead of felt. It didn't take long for them to wander in wonder into the barn and try to communicate with the livestock. The one I took for the leader "merrily" barked orders, and they all fell into line. I extended my hand, as one does, but their leader looked at it oddly, seemingly expecting something to come out of it. A much more human-like, wizard-like figure floated into the barn, waved his hands around, creating these odd glowing words and line-pictures in the air, complete with more glitter, which suddenly poofed into my face. "Can I have my gun back now, colonel?" Bob asked, impatiently. "Not just yet, okay? We don't want to start an incident," I responded, shaking glitter off of my hat. The wizard, slightly lavender in hue, with four emerald-green eyes, floated toward me. "Who is your master, Tree Minion?" I looked back at him, puzzled, as he seemed to speak English. Then I realized I was still wearing my camo uniform. "I'm a colonel in the United States Army, and this is just my uniform. Thomas Pattison." I held out my hand again. The mage, eyeing it like the previous leader, glanced back at me, and slowly reached for it. I shook his six-fingered hand. "It's a hand shake. It's a customary greeting here." Yep, I completely forgot about quarantine protocol, what with this circus show going on. Just then, my cell phone rang, and without thinking, I answered it. Some of the glitter still on my hand swirled around it as I responded to the instructions coming from the Pentagon. The wizard reached out, the glitter flowed back to him and he waved his hands around, conjuring more glyphs. "How do you command the elements without magic, Thomas Pattison?" "I'm sorry, what?" "Magic is how we travel the stars, meet new peoples, and claim new worlds." "Are you claiming Earth? Is that why you're here?" I'd left my phone stay connected, and I could hear the telltale bips of the surveillance equipment listening in. The wizard looked at me again, still with wonder in his eyes, then he looked aside, as if to think, then closed all four eyes, waved his arms in the air wildly, glitter and now sparks flying everywhere. Just then, a squadron of fighter jets thundered overhead. Off in the distance, I could hear choppers approaching from past the interstate. "They're going to want answers," I said, gesturing toward the sky. Glitter now poured out of the barn, possibly affecting the jets and helos. At least that's what I gathered from the loud clamor I could hear coming from the radio in my Jeep. The wizard closed his eyes again, wildly gesturing his glyphs as glitter poured back into the barn. "What is it you're doing there?" I asked. He seemed as puzzled by my question as I was by his theatrics. "The universe obeys those who know its language. We mages speak that language. We interpret the energies, speak to the disembodied beings that rule the unseen. "Your kind fires metal birds through the sky, controlled by sparks and elements without any knowledge of how to command them. It is as if you take the letters of the words I speak, bend them to your own will, and ride your world as if a tamed majestic beast. It is not yours, but it soon will be. "We mean no harm to you, oh great ones! We seek out worlds without magic and tame them, giving new life to their inhabitants. But none of us have ever mastered the universe without obeying millenia of magical practice, the laws written in the stars. Your kind, you completely ignore the will of the universe, and simply grapple it by the horns and ride it untamed!" "Um, thank you?" Bob looked at like I was crazy, but I was trying to be nice, satiate this dizzying fantasyland, stall them, perhaps. "You best git on outta here, freaks," Bob finally bellowed. Startled, the wizard, flailed his hands around some more, and then aimed at my phone again. It spun in midair, full of glitter, then settled back into my hand. The wizard uttered some unintelligible words, the muppet leader, echoed them, and the weird array of creatures sauntered quickly, yet still merrily, back toward their castle. Just before the door closed, the wizard pointed to my phone and it rang. "Hello?" I answered. His voice responded. "Give and take, Thomas Pattison. Give and take. Others will trample you as heretics. Learn some shortcuts. Take good care of your world, and it will respond in kind." And just like that, POOF! \---- Shortcut. That word echoed in my mind in the following months that Bob and I sat, isolated in interrogations for hours each day. The day they released each of us, Bob looked at me, uttered a huff of disdain, and drove his pickup truck off of the base and into the dusty roads. As I sat in my Jeep, I looked at my phone. There was a new panel on my home screen. I swiped over, and in the middle was an animated icon of an app I didn't remember downloading. I tapped it as a reflex, and what I saw — well, I can't really describe it. It was English words, but symbols, too. I couldn't tell if I was translating in my mind, or the app was. But it was the wizard's letters for sure. I clicked on a #1, and somehow in my mind I saw this: >Welcome to the Reigns of the Universe. We will show you how they work. But you will help us learn why they work. If you do this, you will help advance your world, and we will protect you. Do you accept these terms of service, yes or no?"
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	The functionaries of the High Palace rarely saw a Storyteller; it would have been a career highlight for even a venerable member of that disregarded caste to be invited to the seat of Dallasi power. Yet this one was young, without even the customary white robe that marked a Storyteller who had spent ten cycles in the Great Library. And she was enraged. "Where are you, you stupid, posturing fuck?" Lord Mage Alakhrana felt a wholly unfamiliar mixture of rage and joy course though his veins at the sound of the intruder's voice. He hadn't been so much as contradicted in three full cycles. This would be fun. He drew himself up to his full height and turned to the tiny woman. "What makes you think you have the-" "Shut up before you fuck us all even harder, Alakhrana. Did you show off your magic in front of the humans in front of a fucking instrument array?" Alakhrana felt himself recoil slightly from the sheer venom of the Storyteller's rage. All the fun was gone now. He'd have to make an example of her once this unpleasantness was done. "What business is it of yours what I do to frighten the savages, theorist?" She didn't even flinch at the calculated insult. "It's my business because those monkeys are the fastest-adapting species in galactic history. We've been interstellar for nine thousand cycles and our grasp of magic is the same as it was nine thousand cycles ago. Those four-limbed lunatics don't even have any natural sources of magic, and when we found them fifty cycles ago they were already sticking souvenirs on other planets in their system. And you and your fucking idiot ego just handed them a pile of data on exactly what they needed. We're all fucked because you wanted to look cool in front of the savages." "How could you possibly know-" "That your little demonstration would ruin us? Because I'm a Storyteller. I've been reading about other species since I was a juvenile. The Khrolae have a book of predictions; so far, they're the only discovered species capable of using magic to tell the future. And they have a fucking great little horror story called the Enablement. Do you want to take a guess at what it's about?" Alakhrana stood silent. The entire court stood silent. "The Enablement is about the proud warrior who shows magic to the savages who've never seen it. The savages copy the warrior's movements and chants and learn how to use them. They learn how magic works in a way no species has ever before understood. They fuse magic to their own weapons, and slaughter entire civilisations. Nobody stands in their way. Every civilisation has had a total ban on magic usage in the presence of human observational equipment since someone connected the Khrolae story with humans. Every civilisation except us, because your idiot fucking caste system treats us Storytellers like shit. We've been screaming about the need for this ban for cycle after cycle, and you pompous fucks have been ignoring us." The Lord Mage finally found his voice. "What happens now?" The Storyteller smiled, an expression that was somehow predatory and immensely sad. "You get to decide one last thing. The story of the Enablement refers to the Traitors, a species that saw what was coming and decided survival as servants was better than death. You get to decide whether we all become housepets for the humans, or whether our children never see maturity." She strode out of the hall. There was a terrible silence.	It never occured to me that the universe had a set of command codes. Then I wondered, why hadn't anyone bothered to tell Earth? I would have thought humans had a right to feel slighted, but the full shock of a giant castle-like ship suddenly appearing 50 feet over a cornfield in Iowa overshadowed my personal feelings. Why is it always America, in in the middle of farmland, I wondered. The thing kind of made a *POOF!* sound as it touched down. There was glitter everywhere that seemed to disappear as you wiped it off of things. Kind of like it knew to take a hint. Farmer Bob here could have created an incident, but I had the wherewithal to drive straight through the field, distracting him long enough to get the gun he'd had pointed at the sparkly Renaissance Faire traipsing out of the large wood-like portal that had immediately flopped down as soon as the castle touched down. They weren't human, but they didn't exactly look harmful. Kind of like a cross between plants and muppets, but with skin instead of felt. It didn't take long for them to wander in wonder into the barn and try to communicate with the livestock. The one I took for the leader "merrily" barked orders, and they all fell into line. I extended my hand, as one does, but their leader looked at it oddly, seemingly expecting something to come out of it. A much more human-like, wizard-like figure floated into the barn, waved his hands around, creating these odd glowing words and line-pictures in the air, complete with more glitter, which suddenly poofed into my face. "Can I have my gun back now, colonel?" Bob asked, impatiently. "Not just yet, okay? We don't want to start an incident," I responded, shaking glitter off of my hat. The wizard, slightly lavender in hue, with four emerald-green eyes, floated toward me. "Who is your master, Tree Minion?" I looked back at him, puzzled, as he seemed to speak English. Then I realized I was still wearing my camo uniform. "I'm a colonel in the United States Army, and this is just my uniform. Thomas Pattison." I held out my hand again. The mage, eyeing it like the previous leader, glanced back at me, and slowly reached for it. I shook his six-fingered hand. "It's a hand shake. It's a customary greeting here." Yep, I completely forgot about quarantine protocol, what with this circus show going on. Just then, my cell phone rang, and without thinking, I answered it. Some of the glitter still on my hand swirled around it as I responded to the instructions coming from the Pentagon. The wizard reached out, the glitter flowed back to him and he waved his hands around, conjuring more glyphs. "How do you command the elements without magic, Thomas Pattison?" "I'm sorry, what?" "Magic is how we travel the stars, meet new peoples, and claim new worlds." "Are you claiming Earth? Is that why you're here?" I'd left my phone stay connected, and I could hear the telltale bips of the surveillance equipment listening in. The wizard looked at me again, still with wonder in his eyes, then he looked aside, as if to think, then closed all four eyes, waved his arms in the air wildly, glitter and now sparks flying everywhere. Just then, a squadron of fighter jets thundered overhead. Off in the distance, I could hear choppers approaching from past the interstate. "They're going to want answers," I said, gesturing toward the sky. Glitter now poured out of the barn, possibly affecting the jets and helos. At least that's what I gathered from the loud clamor I could hear coming from the radio in my Jeep. The wizard closed his eyes again, wildly gesturing his glyphs as glitter poured back into the barn. "What is it you're doing there?" I asked. He seemed as puzzled by my question as I was by his theatrics. "The universe obeys those who know its language. We mages speak that language. We interpret the energies, speak to the disembodied beings that rule the unseen. "Your kind fires metal birds through the sky, controlled by sparks and elements without any knowledge of how to command them. It is as if you take the letters of the words I speak, bend them to your own will, and ride your world as if a tamed majestic beast. It is not yours, but it soon will be. "We mean no harm to you, oh great ones! We seek out worlds without magic and tame them, giving new life to their inhabitants. But none of us have ever mastered the universe without obeying millenia of magical practice, the laws written in the stars. Your kind, you completely ignore the will of the universe, and simply grapple it by the horns and ride it untamed!" "Um, thank you?" Bob looked at like I was crazy, but I was trying to be nice, satiate this dizzying fantasyland, stall them, perhaps. "You best git on outta here, freaks," Bob finally bellowed. Startled, the wizard, flailed his hands around some more, and then aimed at my phone again. It spun in midair, full of glitter, then settled back into my hand. The wizard uttered some unintelligible words, the muppet leader, echoed them, and the weird array of creatures sauntered quickly, yet still merrily, back toward their castle. Just before the door closed, the wizard pointed to my phone and it rang. "Hello?" I answered. His voice responded. "Give and take, Thomas Pattison. Give and take. Others will trample you as heretics. Learn some shortcuts. Take good care of your world, and it will respond in kind." And just like that, POOF! \---- Shortcut. That word echoed in my mind in the following months that Bob and I sat, isolated in interrogations for hours each day. The day they released each of us, Bob looked at me, uttered a huff of disdain, and drove his pickup truck off of the base and into the dusty roads. As I sat in my Jeep, I looked at my phone. There was a new panel on my home screen. I swiped over, and in the middle was an animated icon of an app I didn't remember downloading. I tapped it as a reflex, and what I saw — well, I can't really describe it. It was English words, but symbols, too. I couldn't tell if I was translating in my mind, or the app was. But it was the wizard's letters for sure. I clicked on a #1, and somehow in my mind I saw this: >Welcome to the Reigns of the Universe. We will show you how they work. But you will help us learn why they work. If you do this, you will help advance your world, and we will protect you. Do you accept these terms of service, yes or no?"
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	The functionaries of the High Palace rarely saw a Storyteller; it would have been a career highlight for even a venerable member of that disregarded caste to be invited to the seat of Dallasi power. Yet this one was young, without even the customary white robe that marked a Storyteller who had spent ten cycles in the Great Library. And she was enraged. "Where are you, you stupid, posturing fuck?" Lord Mage Alakhrana felt a wholly unfamiliar mixture of rage and joy course though his veins at the sound of the intruder's voice. He hadn't been so much as contradicted in three full cycles. This would be fun. He drew himself up to his full height and turned to the tiny woman. "What makes you think you have the-" "Shut up before you fuck us all even harder, Alakhrana. Did you show off your magic in front of the humans in front of a fucking instrument array?" Alakhrana felt himself recoil slightly from the sheer venom of the Storyteller's rage. All the fun was gone now. He'd have to make an example of her once this unpleasantness was done. "What business is it of yours what I do to frighten the savages, theorist?" She didn't even flinch at the calculated insult. "It's my business because those monkeys are the fastest-adapting species in galactic history. We've been interstellar for nine thousand cycles and our grasp of magic is the same as it was nine thousand cycles ago. Those four-limbed lunatics don't even have any natural sources of magic, and when we found them fifty cycles ago they were already sticking souvenirs on other planets in their system. And you and your fucking idiot ego just handed them a pile of data on exactly what they needed. We're all fucked because you wanted to look cool in front of the savages." "How could you possibly know-" "That your little demonstration would ruin us? Because I'm a Storyteller. I've been reading about other species since I was a juvenile. The Khrolae have a book of predictions; so far, they're the only discovered species capable of using magic to tell the future. And they have a fucking great little horror story called the Enablement. Do you want to take a guess at what it's about?" Alakhrana stood silent. The entire court stood silent. "The Enablement is about the proud warrior who shows magic to the savages who've never seen it. The savages copy the warrior's movements and chants and learn how to use them. They learn how magic works in a way no species has ever before understood. They fuse magic to their own weapons, and slaughter entire civilisations. Nobody stands in their way. Every civilisation has had a total ban on magic usage in the presence of human observational equipment since someone connected the Khrolae story with humans. Every civilisation except us, because your idiot fucking caste system treats us Storytellers like shit. We've been screaming about the need for this ban for cycle after cycle, and you pompous fucks have been ignoring us." The Lord Mage finally found his voice. "What happens now?" The Storyteller smiled, an expression that was somehow predatory and immensely sad. "You get to decide one last thing. The story of the Enablement refers to the Traitors, a species that saw what was coming and decided survival as servants was better than death. You get to decide whether we all become housepets for the humans, or whether our children never see maturity." She strode out of the hall. There was a terrible silence.	"3...2...1!" I took the photo, gave Marie a quick kiss, then turned the camera around to see how it turned out. Even after taking hundreds of photos (honeymoon, first overseas trip, and being in Rome all adds up to lots of pics), I still hadn't quite mastered the DSLR selfie. Marie and I looked at the camera screen and were speechless. It wasn't that I'd perfectly framed St. Peter's Basilica on the first try that shocked us. It was the hole in the air behind us, edged in lightning. &#x200B; We turned around and stared at the hole. Through it we could see a dark sky and some sort of stone building. I didn't notice many details because out of the hole stepped a creature straight out of Greek legend. It looked vaguely human, though with green skin, reptilian eyes, and snake-like waving hair. Medusa, right there in St. Peter's Square with us. &#x200B; The creature stepped toward us on hoof-like feet. The portal closed behind it. "Ciao! Io sono Giuseppe. Non posso credere di essere finalmente qui! Anche se non sembri Ublariani." &#x200B; Marie's eyes went wide. I turned to her. "Is it speaking...Italian?" I asked. &#x200B; She laughed nervously and said, "Yeah, sure sounded like it." She pulled out her phone. "I think this justifies using some international data." &#x200B; I nodded as she turned on her data and opened a translator app. The creatures purple eyes tracked the phone, its snake-hair slowing its waving while it watched Marie set up the phone for real-time translation. &#x200B; Marie looked up and said, "Hello!" A second later, the phone said, "Ciao!" &#x200B; The creature stepped back and raised its hands. "Che diavolo è questo?" &#x200B; "What devilry is this?" Marie's phone translated. We looked at each other, then back at the creature. &#x200B; "It's a translator. It helps us understand each other," Marie said, then waited while the phone translated. &#x200B; The creature hissed, then the snake hair started waving a little more quickly. "Ah, you have trapped a klaxalta in that piece of glass!" &#x200B; I furrowed my brow, "I'm not sure what a klaxalta is, but we didn't tra-" &#x200B; "That's not important." Marie interrupted. "We are Marie and James. What is your name?" &#x200B; The creature stared at the phone while it translated, then looked back at us. "Hello Marie and James, I am Joseph. Do all Ublarians use this klaxata-glass to speak?" &#x200B; While I was still struggling to pick which of my many questions to ask, Marie said, "Hi...Joseph. We are from a different place, so we speak a different language. This helps us understand the people here. It's called a smartphone." &#x200B; "I see. It is a little clumsy. I am able to anchor my spell in myself so that I do not need to carry a glass around. My spell allows me to speak the local language." It smiled, which was a little disconcerting because of the sharp, red teeth. But he held up his hands, I suppose to show how empty they were. &#x200B; "So, you use a...spell...to speak Italian? Where do you come from?" &#x200B; "I come from Lashu. This is my first time through the portal to a different world. What world do you come from?" &#x200B; "Right here on Earth," I said, gesturing around me. "But we flew here from different country on a different part of the planet." &#x200B; Joseph's snake hair started wriggling faster then ever. "You have mastered the flying spell? I have been working on it for some time, but I have difficulty. Look!" It closed its eyes, then rose a few inches above the ground. It opened its eyes, smiled and asked, "Can you show me your mastery? I would love to observe your aura as you do so." &#x200B; Marie and I stepped back. I said, "Well, we don't use a...spell. We fly in a machine." &#x200B; Joseph came back down to the ground. "A...machine. You mean, technology? But that's just a myth!" &#x200B; "You mean your spells are...magic?" Marie asked. &#x200B; The creature said, "Of course! Do you think technology could do that?" It gestured back at the portal. &#x200B; "You have a point," I said. &#x200B; By now quite the crowd had gathered. I looked around and noticed some Swiss Guards approaching. "Joseph, do you know protection spells. You look a little...threatening." Joseph looked around and noticed the guards. &#x200B; "What colorful costumes! Hello, I am Joseph!" The guards lowered their halberds towards Joseph and some more men approached, leveling guns at the creature. Joseph's snake-hair drooped and it raised its hands. "I am simply visiting! I mean no harm." &#x200B; "Come with us!" One of the men with a gun, wearing a black leather jacket, said (speaking Italian, obviously, with no need for a translator app). &#x200B; Joseph looked around one more time, said something, and time...fuzzed. Then he and the portal were gone. I looked around. Everyone seemed a little confused. The men with the guns lowered them, looked around, then refocused on us. "You will come with us," leather jacket said. &#x200B; We were locked in a room in a part of the Vatican we probably never would have seen otherwise. Of course, the room wasn't covered in some hidden Michelangelo or Raphael fresco. It was just white walls, a table, and a few chairs. Over the course of the next hour, we were asked several questions about the creature, almost none of which we were able to answer, of course. &#x200B; We were both sitting, a little shell-shocked. Marie grabbed my hand. "Well, you promised me adventure on our honeymoon." &#x200B; I smiled, "And magical surprises." We laughed a little, but the strain was obvious. &#x200B; Then lightning split the air in front of us. Joseph stuck his head out, "Come on!" And he reached his hand out to us." Marie and I looked at each other. "And a whole new world!" We laughed and jumped through the portal into Joseph's world.
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	Kor stands next to me on the roof of one of their towers of Stone and Steel as we look out on the miserable world the people of this world have created for one another. &#x200B; "I don't understand it," I say to him. "How is it that they have come so far, in the ten thousand years since building their first temples, yet they have forgotten Divinity so thoroughly?" &#x200B; For all people of the stars, communion with the universe is an act of personal union and relationship, and it is something we find that humans might refer to as "magic." &#x200B; In this textual and rhythmic reality we all share, it is music that underlies every action and interaction. We are all involved in a great dance together, across the stars, turning and driving forward. &#x200B; Yet the people of this world seem deaf to it. &#x200B; "It's a mystery to me as well. We've been all over this world. Their technology is as dead as their religion - neither their attempts to reach heavenward, nor their attempts to find meaning within the dirt seem to have helped them awaken to the Song. But I think I have an idea of where they've gone wrong." &#x200B; They don't notice us, of course, as we walk off the edge of this spire, and start trekking down its glassy surface. Inside the tower, we see them toiling away at work that seems meaningless to me. We have shrouded ourselves from their perceptions, so as not to distress them. If they saw what we do, they might declare us Gods, which would be intolerable. &#x200B; Kor has been studying this little world longer than I have. He's a friend of mine. Working with uncontacted worlds, to help them awaken is a thankless task, and this seems like an especially stubborn world. Most realms like this awaken to the song within a mere couple thousand years, just as they are entering the earliest phases of their bronze age. But this world has long since discovered the power to make the Sun Rise Twice, and still, they have failed to understand the Oneness of the Music. &#x200B; I watch with distress as we walk down the spire, seeing their lifeless machines in the road below, spilling poison into their atmosphere, isolating them from one another in little cabins of numbness, endangering each other's lives so recklessly, and yet as casually as one of my people might dust a table off. Kor pauses a long time as we walk, musing. &#x200B; "It seems to me that the problem of this people is that they have begun from the bottom, and attempted to create a perfect model of the universe we live in out of parts. They start with particulars, and attempt to reach for universals - like trying to square the circle. Do you remember that old arithmetic problem?" &#x200B; "Of course. What do you mean by it, though?" &#x200B; "There is a certain relation between the linear and the circular - they call it PI, after a letter in one of their older languages, by the way." &#x200B; "Languages! They haven't even discovered The Language?" &#x200B; "No, and that seems to hint at their main problem. But first, squaring the circle. The Linear, and the Circular have a basic incompatibility, such that you cannot describe a circle in terms of a line, or vice versa, without assuming the value of the Ratio to begin with - the Ratio between a circle's diameter and its circumference cannot be arrived at precisely in terms of either. The Ratio can be circumscribed, but never attained." &#x200B; "Yes, I remember this now. So in this way, you can never construct a perfect circle by beginning with a square. So what has this to do with their failure to discover the music?" &#x200B; We wade through their street now, our conversation taking us down from the side of the spire into the midst of them. They're tall people - shockingly tall, really, bigger than the mightiest warriors of old. Their transport machines are loud, and ugly. They all seem to pass by one another without noticing one another, a sort of sterility in the air - they fail to make connections as they pass each other by, absorbed into their own moment, distracted by stress and pressure from above and below from their power to connect horizontally. &#x200B; "Their way of attempting to arrive at truth is much like squaring the circle - a mathematical problem they didn't even manage to discover was impossible until about 100 cycles around their sun. Their own perception of existence is wholly linear, and so they attempt to arrive at truth through circumscription - and the result is they go around and around in circles, chasing their tale." &#x200B; "Ah yes, I'm beginning to get the picture." &#x200B; "I think there's hope for them yet. There's a kernel of truth in all their religion. Their Christ, their Lao Zi, their Kong Fuzi, their Buddha, their Prophet, their Sagan - all these men have understood a bit of the truth. They have all understood a little of the Oneness. Right now, they're distracted - by blood, and treasure, and the sickness they have inflicted on their own mother." &#x200B; I smile. "They're lucky they do not possess the power to make her sick unto death. I've only seen a handful or civilizations that have poisoned their world almost as thoroughly as they have." &#x200B; "There is still hope for them. I really believe they're on the verge of an awakening - they only need a little prodding." &#x200B; "It's still a leviathan undertaking. And even once they have awakened, the humility to undo the damage they have already done to each other, and to forgive one another that damage, will be a lot to ask of them." &#x200B; "I have faith in them. We must, if we are to ask them to have faith in each other." &#x200B; I sigh, and shake my head fondly. Kor has always been stubborn, as long as I've known him. "I'm returning home to share your progress with the others." We have already been talking all day, long before this last conversation, of course. He's shown me around their world, given me a relative understanding of their way of life. The complexity of their nations, and their corporations is baffling to me. There's so little unity of purpose or design in it all. &#x200B; "Farewell, Kor. Be well. Love is the Law." &#x200B; "Love is the Law, my friend."	They have studied us, but never understood the pure kinetik power of our powerfull machines. We have studied them, but never understood the pure magical power of their powerfull mages. So the war started. At first the soldiers feared for their lives: an unknown entity with an unknown power. But what are floating magical aliens versus an F20 jet? What are fireballs vs the bullets of a browning M3M? We mowed them down to the very last of them. Scientist have found a way to control the magic with a masterpiece of electrical engineering. What started as a war has ended in the complete rulership of the entire universe.
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	The functionaries of the High Palace rarely saw a Storyteller; it would have been a career highlight for even a venerable member of that disregarded caste to be invited to the seat of Dallasi power. Yet this one was young, without even the customary white robe that marked a Storyteller who had spent ten cycles in the Great Library. And she was enraged. "Where are you, you stupid, posturing fuck?" Lord Mage Alakhrana felt a wholly unfamiliar mixture of rage and joy course though his veins at the sound of the intruder's voice. He hadn't been so much as contradicted in three full cycles. This would be fun. He drew himself up to his full height and turned to the tiny woman. "What makes you think you have the-" "Shut up before you fuck us all even harder, Alakhrana. Did you show off your magic in front of the humans in front of a fucking instrument array?" Alakhrana felt himself recoil slightly from the sheer venom of the Storyteller's rage. All the fun was gone now. He'd have to make an example of her once this unpleasantness was done. "What business is it of yours what I do to frighten the savages, theorist?" She didn't even flinch at the calculated insult. "It's my business because those monkeys are the fastest-adapting species in galactic history. We've been interstellar for nine thousand cycles and our grasp of magic is the same as it was nine thousand cycles ago. Those four-limbed lunatics don't even have any natural sources of magic, and when we found them fifty cycles ago they were already sticking souvenirs on other planets in their system. And you and your fucking idiot ego just handed them a pile of data on exactly what they needed. We're all fucked because you wanted to look cool in front of the savages." "How could you possibly know-" "That your little demonstration would ruin us? Because I'm a Storyteller. I've been reading about other species since I was a juvenile. The Khrolae have a book of predictions; so far, they're the only discovered species capable of using magic to tell the future. And they have a fucking great little horror story called the Enablement. Do you want to take a guess at what it's about?" Alakhrana stood silent. The entire court stood silent. "The Enablement is about the proud warrior who shows magic to the savages who've never seen it. The savages copy the warrior's movements and chants and learn how to use them. They learn how magic works in a way no species has ever before understood. They fuse magic to their own weapons, and slaughter entire civilisations. Nobody stands in their way. Every civilisation has had a total ban on magic usage in the presence of human observational equipment since someone connected the Khrolae story with humans. Every civilisation except us, because your idiot fucking caste system treats us Storytellers like shit. We've been screaming about the need for this ban for cycle after cycle, and you pompous fucks have been ignoring us." The Lord Mage finally found his voice. "What happens now?" The Storyteller smiled, an expression that was somehow predatory and immensely sad. "You get to decide one last thing. The story of the Enablement refers to the Traitors, a species that saw what was coming and decided survival as servants was better than death. You get to decide whether we all become housepets for the humans, or whether our children never see maturity." She strode out of the hall. There was a terrible silence.	They have studied us, but never understood the pure kinetik power of our powerfull machines. We have studied them, but never understood the pure magical power of their powerfull mages. So the war started. At first the soldiers feared for their lives: an unknown entity with an unknown power. But what are floating magical aliens versus an F20 jet? What are fireballs vs the bullets of a browning M3M? We mowed them down to the very last of them. Scientist have found a way to control the magic with a masterpiece of electrical engineering. What started as a war has ended in the complete rulership of the entire universe.
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	"W-What is.... that?" a green humanoid said as he looked through a special binocular. He was scanning the area around the chariot when he spotted a blue planet with a tint of green and brown on it. The chariot was manned by a five person crew and was on a regular exploration mission around the galaxy. This particular one was manned by two mages, one smith, and three soldiers – one of whom was the captain leading the mission. "Captain, I think we may encounter creatures – intelligent ones, capable of high-energy manipulation," said the same humanoid who initially spotted the planet. The captain, a veteran of hundreds of exploration mission stood up and said, "excellent. Now, Mage Hyyrt could you verify Mage Jrrtp's claims?" A rather shorter humanoid, took out a warped staff and pointed it at the planet. He chanted and shook the staff like he was inspecting its' content. Before long, the staff and the hands holding it vibrated vigorously. His weathered face suddenly lit up and he turned to face the captain. His cracked lips curled at the edges as he was about to report his discovery. "Hehehe, Captain! I... I think... the young Mage was c-corect! If we could get closer, I might even che–" "L-Look! Grand chariots, coming to our position!" said one of the soldiers, interrupting the older Mage. "As I was saying, Captain, we should establish contact... Let me scan the incoming chariot and use [Message] to talk to them," the annoyed older mage finished his interrupted thought. The captain nodded and the mages got to work. They took out a bunch of odd-looking items. Some vials with glowing alchemical liquids, a couple of glowing crystals, and some staffs of various sizes and make. The two then used some of the staffs and chanted [Message] at the direction of the grand chariot. Instead of getting a response, the two were dumbfounded as the effort did not bear fruit. The mages struggled to make the spell work, rotating through several different items before finally giving up. "C-Captain... It.... Seems that the spell [Message] did not make contact." The captain knew that magic had its' limitations, but something as simple as [Message] should've worked. He pondered on the possibility if the creatures commandeering the incoming chariot were one of the more hostile sort. Before making any rash decisions, he needed to guarantee the safety of his vessel and crew. As such, he told the two other soldiers to stand at the ready with their weapons in case things would go sour. The mages picked up on this and the younger mage prepared an enchanted mace whilst the older one consulted a book of spells to try and make contact. However, the incoming chariot was already in front of them less than 5 minutes since they had sprung into action. Fearing for the worst, but still maintaining caution to prevent provoking the other party, the captain took out a necklace and wore it. The necklace contained the spell [Maximise – Bridge of Thoughts] that would enable the invoker/caster to telepathically establish communication by looking into the eyes of the intended target, regardless of language barrier. He then scanned the glassed section of the front of the large chariot in front of him to find anyone whose eyes he could look into. Before long, a woman – with a headgear and pale-cream-coloured skin – looked out of the glass and he established contact. She seemed to be shocked but the Captain went to great details explaining their exploration mission and that they want to establish peaceful contact. The two vessels then went in tow to get down to the station which the woman had indicated to be their base. * After being properly received at the station, the crew of the exploration chariot had discovered things about the so-called 'humans' of the planet called by the locals as 'Earth'. The humans seemed to be wearing a uniform clothing, blue in colour, rather sturdy yet light in material. The younger mage – Jrrtp – took a rather keen interest on the clothing, as he himself dabbled in magical cloth-making research. The older mage – Hyyrt – seemed fascinated by the vessel, so-called 'spacecraft', as he had never seen the metallic materials that was used for its' hull. The two made such a fuss that the woman human, who was the commander of the whole station, seemed to be on guard especially when Jrrtp tried to touch her clothes. Apologies were made and the situation was cleared up when a human diplomat, who made the trouble to go up to the station from the planet, arrived. "Greetings, Captain! I am John Lawrence, a diplomat working for the United Nations of Earth. I've received the rudimentary explanation from the admiral," he signalled to the woman who initially received them and continued, "now, I'd like to convey our leaders' welcome and help you as best as we can to your mission." The Captain, the only one that could communicate with the humans, spoke, "thank you, Mr. Lawrence. W-We... we were wondering if you would be courteous enough to let us land and survey your planet. For the sake of the mission, of course." The humans, which amounted to the diplomat and his aides as well as the admiral, convened amongst themselves. They seemed to not be talking but rather rapidly tap on some strange glass-like devices with metal on the back. The glass glowed, so the crew of the chariot all surmised that it must be some sort of a magical device. Before long, the human diplomat coughed lightly to refocus the attention of the crew on him. "First, we apologise but letting you survey the planet would need to be discussed by our leaders' which might take quite some time," the diplomat clenched his hands together, "second, we could let you land on the planet but it would require you to be put in a 'quarantine' before doing so... which might take time but not as long as the discussion I've mentioned before." The captain then told the rest of the crew which all nodded at the same conclusion, "we would like to land on your planet as soon as possible, if you'd please." * Upon arrival on the blue planet called Earth, the crew of the exploration chariot were all flabbergasted. The mages – who were both awed at the various materials and technology they had seen on the station – almost went unconscious at the sight of the sprawling city they were taken into. Various metal and glass spires reached the skies and countless glowing glasses displayed an assortment of things on the sides. The glowing glasses were of similar make as the devices that the humans used on the station earlier but on a much more massive scale. The mages wanted to touch the glowing glasses and spires with the [Fly] spell, but the captain had to stop them. Even if the soldiers kept their calm, unlike the mages, they too were surprised. The two soldiers gasped and had their eyes popping as they saw the amount of people moving in various ways. They saw many riding on their own personal chariots, sitting in communal tube-like chariots, and riding on a metallic horse – some were on the ground whilst a few were flying through the sky. Back at their planet, not everyone could ride on chariots as they were expensive and quite labour-intensive to make with magic. Only soldiers, the wealthy, or the nobility could afford them. The captain – keeping his cool whilst still having his eyes darting around, taking in all the information – observed the human soldiers as they escorted him and his crew. He wondered if the compact weapons they were carrying – apparently called 'guns' – would do much damage when compared to their staffs and enchanted melee weapon. As they were all taking in the surrounding sights, the diplomat from the station greeted them once more. He could see the exploration chariot crew's faces and their subsequent amazement which resulted in his own amusement. After he let out a few chuckles – one reserved for an adult responding to a child's curiosity – the diplomat shook the Captain's hand. "I see you've seen things, well now I'd like you to come and we could discuss many more things," the diplomat said. "... Y-Yes! B-But before... before we continue, may I ask what kind of magic did you use for those?" the Captain said as he pointed to the guns. "Huh?" the diplomat seemed surprised but then said, "magic? To my knowledge, we simply use energy-bolts or gunpowder for the guns, don't we?" he looked to the soldiers for affirmation. The Captain told the mages and they screamed inaudibly in response. After a while, the Captain spoke again. "So, what about those things – the chariots? How do you enchant them to fly or move around like that?" the Captain pointed to the moving chariots. "Ch-Chariots? Er, I don't think... Well we have chariots drawn by horses, mostly for shows. Those things are called 'cars'. They're powered by electricity and petrol," the diplomat explained as he pointed to the many vehicles, "whilst those long tube-like things are called 'trains' and 'buses'. The shorter ones are the buses and the longer ones are buses, mostly they are all electric now." "E-Electric... Electricity... W-What is that?" the Captain stood in horror at the terrifying sounding word. The diplomat laughed and said, "Not to worry, almost everything you can see are powered by electricity! You see, they are these currents transferring charges which could make things move..."	They have studied us, but never understood the pure kinetik power of our powerfull machines. We have studied them, but never understood the pure magical power of their powerfull mages. So the war started. At first the soldiers feared for their lives: an unknown entity with an unknown power. But what are floating magical aliens versus an F20 jet? What are fireballs vs the bullets of a browning M3M? We mowed them down to the very last of them. Scientist have found a way to control the magic with a masterpiece of electrical engineering. What started as a war has ended in the complete rulership of the entire universe.
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	The functionaries of the High Palace rarely saw a Storyteller; it would have been a career highlight for even a venerable member of that disregarded caste to be invited to the seat of Dallasi power. Yet this one was young, without even the customary white robe that marked a Storyteller who had spent ten cycles in the Great Library. And she was enraged. "Where are you, you stupid, posturing fuck?" Lord Mage Alakhrana felt a wholly unfamiliar mixture of rage and joy course though his veins at the sound of the intruder's voice. He hadn't been so much as contradicted in three full cycles. This would be fun. He drew himself up to his full height and turned to the tiny woman. "What makes you think you have the-" "Shut up before you fuck us all even harder, Alakhrana. Did you show off your magic in front of the humans in front of a fucking instrument array?" Alakhrana felt himself recoil slightly from the sheer venom of the Storyteller's rage. All the fun was gone now. He'd have to make an example of her once this unpleasantness was done. "What business is it of yours what I do to frighten the savages, theorist?" She didn't even flinch at the calculated insult. "It's my business because those monkeys are the fastest-adapting species in galactic history. We've been interstellar for nine thousand cycles and our grasp of magic is the same as it was nine thousand cycles ago. Those four-limbed lunatics don't even have any natural sources of magic, and when we found them fifty cycles ago they were already sticking souvenirs on other planets in their system. And you and your fucking idiot ego just handed them a pile of data on exactly what they needed. We're all fucked because you wanted to look cool in front of the savages." "How could you possibly know-" "That your little demonstration would ruin us? Because I'm a Storyteller. I've been reading about other species since I was a juvenile. The Khrolae have a book of predictions; so far, they're the only discovered species capable of using magic to tell the future. And they have a fucking great little horror story called the Enablement. Do you want to take a guess at what it's about?" Alakhrana stood silent. The entire court stood silent. "The Enablement is about the proud warrior who shows magic to the savages who've never seen it. The savages copy the warrior's movements and chants and learn how to use them. They learn how magic works in a way no species has ever before understood. They fuse magic to their own weapons, and slaughter entire civilisations. Nobody stands in their way. Every civilisation has had a total ban on magic usage in the presence of human observational equipment since someone connected the Khrolae story with humans. Every civilisation except us, because your idiot fucking caste system treats us Storytellers like shit. We've been screaming about the need for this ban for cycle after cycle, and you pompous fucks have been ignoring us." The Lord Mage finally found his voice. "What happens now?" The Storyteller smiled, an expression that was somehow predatory and immensely sad. "You get to decide one last thing. The story of the Enablement refers to the Traitors, a species that saw what was coming and decided survival as servants was better than death. You get to decide whether we all become housepets for the humans, or whether our children never see maturity." She strode out of the hall. There was a terrible silence.	Kor stands next to me on the roof of one of their towers of Stone and Steel as we look out on the miserable world the people of this world have created for one another. &#x200B; "I don't understand it," I say to him. "How is it that they have come so far, in the ten thousand years since building their first temples, yet they have forgotten Divinity so thoroughly?" &#x200B; For all people of the stars, communion with the universe is an act of personal union and relationship, and it is something we find that humans might refer to as "magic." &#x200B; In this textual and rhythmic reality we all share, it is music that underlies every action and interaction. We are all involved in a great dance together, across the stars, turning and driving forward. &#x200B; Yet the people of this world seem deaf to it. &#x200B; "It's a mystery to me as well. We've been all over this world. Their technology is as dead as their religion - neither their attempts to reach heavenward, nor their attempts to find meaning within the dirt seem to have helped them awaken to the Song. But I think I have an idea of where they've gone wrong." &#x200B; They don't notice us, of course, as we walk off the edge of this spire, and start trekking down its glassy surface. Inside the tower, we see them toiling away at work that seems meaningless to me. We have shrouded ourselves from their perceptions, so as not to distress them. If they saw what we do, they might declare us Gods, which would be intolerable. &#x200B; Kor has been studying this little world longer than I have. He's a friend of mine. Working with uncontacted worlds, to help them awaken is a thankless task, and this seems like an especially stubborn world. Most realms like this awaken to the song within a mere couple thousand years, just as they are entering the earliest phases of their bronze age. But this world has long since discovered the power to make the Sun Rise Twice, and still, they have failed to understand the Oneness of the Music. &#x200B; I watch with distress as we walk down the spire, seeing their lifeless machines in the road below, spilling poison into their atmosphere, isolating them from one another in little cabins of numbness, endangering each other's lives so recklessly, and yet as casually as one of my people might dust a table off. Kor pauses a long time as we walk, musing. &#x200B; "It seems to me that the problem of this people is that they have begun from the bottom, and attempted to create a perfect model of the universe we live in out of parts. They start with particulars, and attempt to reach for universals - like trying to square the circle. Do you remember that old arithmetic problem?" &#x200B; "Of course. What do you mean by it, though?" &#x200B; "There is a certain relation between the linear and the circular - they call it PI, after a letter in one of their older languages, by the way." &#x200B; "Languages! They haven't even discovered The Language?" &#x200B; "No, and that seems to hint at their main problem. But first, squaring the circle. The Linear, and the Circular have a basic incompatibility, such that you cannot describe a circle in terms of a line, or vice versa, without assuming the value of the Ratio to begin with - the Ratio between a circle's diameter and its circumference cannot be arrived at precisely in terms of either. The Ratio can be circumscribed, but never attained." &#x200B; "Yes, I remember this now. So in this way, you can never construct a perfect circle by beginning with a square. So what has this to do with their failure to discover the music?" &#x200B; We wade through their street now, our conversation taking us down from the side of the spire into the midst of them. They're tall people - shockingly tall, really, bigger than the mightiest warriors of old. Their transport machines are loud, and ugly. They all seem to pass by one another without noticing one another, a sort of sterility in the air - they fail to make connections as they pass each other by, absorbed into their own moment, distracted by stress and pressure from above and below from their power to connect horizontally. &#x200B; "Their way of attempting to arrive at truth is much like squaring the circle - a mathematical problem they didn't even manage to discover was impossible until about 100 cycles around their sun. Their own perception of existence is wholly linear, and so they attempt to arrive at truth through circumscription - and the result is they go around and around in circles, chasing their tale." &#x200B; "Ah yes, I'm beginning to get the picture." &#x200B; "I think there's hope for them yet. There's a kernel of truth in all their religion. Their Christ, their Lao Zi, their Kong Fuzi, their Buddha, their Prophet, their Sagan - all these men have understood a bit of the truth. They have all understood a little of the Oneness. Right now, they're distracted - by blood, and treasure, and the sickness they have inflicted on their own mother." &#x200B; I smile. "They're lucky they do not possess the power to make her sick unto death. I've only seen a handful or civilizations that have poisoned their world almost as thoroughly as they have." &#x200B; "There is still hope for them. I really believe they're on the verge of an awakening - they only need a little prodding." &#x200B; "It's still a leviathan undertaking. And even once they have awakened, the humility to undo the damage they have already done to each other, and to forgive one another that damage, will be a lot to ask of them." &#x200B; "I have faith in them. We must, if we are to ask them to have faith in each other." &#x200B; I sigh, and shake my head fondly. Kor has always been stubborn, as long as I've known him. "I'm returning home to share your progress with the others." We have already been talking all day, long before this last conversation, of course. He's shown me around their world, given me a relative understanding of their way of life. The complexity of their nations, and their corporations is baffling to me. There's so little unity of purpose or design in it all. &#x200B; "Farewell, Kor. Be well. Love is the Law." &#x200B; "Love is the Law, my friend."
	[WP] Aliens have stumbled upon Earth on accident and are astonished to see how far humanity has come despite having no ability to use magic but rather develop technology which every other species has failed to do.	"W-What is.... that?" a green humanoid said as he looked through a special binocular. He was scanning the area around the chariot when he spotted a blue planet with a tint of green and brown on it. The chariot was manned by a five person crew and was on a regular exploration mission around the galaxy. This particular one was manned by two mages, one smith, and three soldiers – one of whom was the captain leading the mission. "Captain, I think we may encounter creatures – intelligent ones, capable of high-energy manipulation," said the same humanoid who initially spotted the planet. The captain, a veteran of hundreds of exploration mission stood up and said, "excellent. Now, Mage Hyyrt could you verify Mage Jrrtp's claims?" A rather shorter humanoid, took out a warped staff and pointed it at the planet. He chanted and shook the staff like he was inspecting its' content. Before long, the staff and the hands holding it vibrated vigorously. His weathered face suddenly lit up and he turned to face the captain. His cracked lips curled at the edges as he was about to report his discovery. "Hehehe, Captain! I... I think... the young Mage was c-corect! If we could get closer, I might even che–" "L-Look! Grand chariots, coming to our position!" said one of the soldiers, interrupting the older Mage. "As I was saying, Captain, we should establish contact... Let me scan the incoming chariot and use [Message] to talk to them," the annoyed older mage finished his interrupted thought. The captain nodded and the mages got to work. They took out a bunch of odd-looking items. Some vials with glowing alchemical liquids, a couple of glowing crystals, and some staffs of various sizes and make. The two then used some of the staffs and chanted [Message] at the direction of the grand chariot. Instead of getting a response, the two were dumbfounded as the effort did not bear fruit. The mages struggled to make the spell work, rotating through several different items before finally giving up. "C-Captain... It.... Seems that the spell [Message] did not make contact." The captain knew that magic had its' limitations, but something as simple as [Message] should've worked. He pondered on the possibility if the creatures commandeering the incoming chariot were one of the more hostile sort. Before making any rash decisions, he needed to guarantee the safety of his vessel and crew. As such, he told the two other soldiers to stand at the ready with their weapons in case things would go sour. The mages picked up on this and the younger mage prepared an enchanted mace whilst the older one consulted a book of spells to try and make contact. However, the incoming chariot was already in front of them less than 5 minutes since they had sprung into action. Fearing for the worst, but still maintaining caution to prevent provoking the other party, the captain took out a necklace and wore it. The necklace contained the spell [Maximise – Bridge of Thoughts] that would enable the invoker/caster to telepathically establish communication by looking into the eyes of the intended target, regardless of language barrier. He then scanned the glassed section of the front of the large chariot in front of him to find anyone whose eyes he could look into. Before long, a woman – with a headgear and pale-cream-coloured skin – looked out of the glass and he established contact. She seemed to be shocked but the Captain went to great details explaining their exploration mission and that they want to establish peaceful contact. The two vessels then went in tow to get down to the station which the woman had indicated to be their base. * After being properly received at the station, the crew of the exploration chariot had discovered things about the so-called 'humans' of the planet called by the locals as 'Earth'. The humans seemed to be wearing a uniform clothing, blue in colour, rather sturdy yet light in material. The younger mage – Jrrtp – took a rather keen interest on the clothing, as he himself dabbled in magical cloth-making research. The older mage – Hyyrt – seemed fascinated by the vessel, so-called 'spacecraft', as he had never seen the metallic materials that was used for its' hull. The two made such a fuss that the woman human, who was the commander of the whole station, seemed to be on guard especially when Jrrtp tried to touch her clothes. Apologies were made and the situation was cleared up when a human diplomat, who made the trouble to go up to the station from the planet, arrived. "Greetings, Captain! I am John Lawrence, a diplomat working for the United Nations of Earth. I've received the rudimentary explanation from the admiral," he signalled to the woman who initially received them and continued, "now, I'd like to convey our leaders' welcome and help you as best as we can to your mission." The Captain, the only one that could communicate with the humans, spoke, "thank you, Mr. Lawrence. W-We... we were wondering if you would be courteous enough to let us land and survey your planet. For the sake of the mission, of course." The humans, which amounted to the diplomat and his aides as well as the admiral, convened amongst themselves. They seemed to not be talking but rather rapidly tap on some strange glass-like devices with metal on the back. The glass glowed, so the crew of the chariot all surmised that it must be some sort of a magical device. Before long, the human diplomat coughed lightly to refocus the attention of the crew on him. "First, we apologise but letting you survey the planet would need to be discussed by our leaders' which might take quite some time," the diplomat clenched his hands together, "second, we could let you land on the planet but it would require you to be put in a 'quarantine' before doing so... which might take time but not as long as the discussion I've mentioned before." The captain then told the rest of the crew which all nodded at the same conclusion, "we would like to land on your planet as soon as possible, if you'd please." * Upon arrival on the blue planet called Earth, the crew of the exploration chariot were all flabbergasted. The mages – who were both awed at the various materials and technology they had seen on the station – almost went unconscious at the sight of the sprawling city they were taken into. Various metal and glass spires reached the skies and countless glowing glasses displayed an assortment of things on the sides. The glowing glasses were of similar make as the devices that the humans used on the station earlier but on a much more massive scale. The mages wanted to touch the glowing glasses and spires with the [Fly] spell, but the captain had to stop them. Even if the soldiers kept their calm, unlike the mages, they too were surprised. The two soldiers gasped and had their eyes popping as they saw the amount of people moving in various ways. They saw many riding on their own personal chariots, sitting in communal tube-like chariots, and riding on a metallic horse – some were on the ground whilst a few were flying through the sky. Back at their planet, not everyone could ride on chariots as they were expensive and quite labour-intensive to make with magic. Only soldiers, the wealthy, or the nobility could afford them. The captain – keeping his cool whilst still having his eyes darting around, taking in all the information – observed the human soldiers as they escorted him and his crew. He wondered if the compact weapons they were carrying – apparently called 'guns' – would do much damage when compared to their staffs and enchanted melee weapon. As they were all taking in the surrounding sights, the diplomat from the station greeted them once more. He could see the exploration chariot crew's faces and their subsequent amazement which resulted in his own amusement. After he let out a few chuckles – one reserved for an adult responding to a child's curiosity – the diplomat shook the Captain's hand. "I see you've seen things, well now I'd like you to come and we could discuss many more things," the diplomat said. "... Y-Yes! B-But before... before we continue, may I ask what kind of magic did you use for those?" the Captain said as he pointed to the guns. "Huh?" the diplomat seemed surprised but then said, "magic? To my knowledge, we simply use energy-bolts or gunpowder for the guns, don't we?" he looked to the soldiers for affirmation. The Captain told the mages and they screamed inaudibly in response. After a while, the Captain spoke again. "So, what about those things – the chariots? How do you enchant them to fly or move around like that?" the Captain pointed to the moving chariots. "Ch-Chariots? Er, I don't think... Well we have chariots drawn by horses, mostly for shows. Those things are called 'cars'. They're powered by electricity and petrol," the diplomat explained as he pointed to the many vehicles, "whilst those long tube-like things are called 'trains' and 'buses'. The shorter ones are the buses and the longer ones are buses, mostly they are all electric now." "E-Electric... Electricity... W-What is that?" the Captain stood in horror at the terrifying sounding word. The diplomat laughed and said, "Not to worry, almost everything you can see are powered by electricity! You see, they are these currents transferring charges which could make things move..."	"And what does this do... Exactly?" he asked me as I was still in shock standing a couple meters further behind them. Them? I thought. I could swear these creatures are nothing like they portray aliens in movies. They were human-like. Except of course dark red color. And three eyes. One instead of their nose. But otherwise, you couldn't even recognize them amongst other people. Twins as well, I thought. "H...Ho.. How can I help you?" my quivering voice reached their ears and they immediately focused their eyes on me. I couldn't even handle a person with two eyes staring at me, let alone three. "What does this do?" one of them pointed his finger, which was more like a rotten carrot to be honest, right into my smartphone. "Oh... Quite a lot of things, to be honest." Being a slightly above average intelligence, I quickly ran an amateur guide through some apps and technical specs which took around 12 minutes. "Oh yeah, and you can call with it" I added at the end. "Call...? Could you elaborate more, human?". They looked surprised. Although they had a hard time using a smartphone, since the screen wasn't designed to work using rotten carrots, but they thoroughly listened through my presentation before. I was keen on showing and telling them as much as I know, don't know why. It just happened. I didn't even know I could talk in such detail before. But I guess my social anxiety doesn't kick in when I'm in conversation with dark red creatures. I should visit Egypt or Turkey, I thought. There's plenty of people with massive sunburns, maybe I'll get rid of my anxiety. "If you have a second device," I told, "you can communicate between these two loud and clear basically wherever you are in the world." "Just like a mind telepathy?" one of them grasped. He seemed like a kid in school who perceived the intended meaning of a simple calculus task the teacher gave. So proud and so excited. "Well, you could say so.." his reaction threw me off the track. "Why are you so excited?" I asked. "You see... In our world we use magic to do everything. This female right here," he pointed his finger towards an identical creature as he was. "She just started out on magic training and instead of telepathy spell she used a teleport spell, casting us away to here. We were wandering around for a couple of hours till we found this place and thought we'll say hello. Everything in this planet is so familiar where we're from. Except, since we use magic for everything, we have much more nature and none of these huge structures with lots of fumes connected with wires and none of this long hard surface ground with line in the middle." A world with magic, full of humans untouched nature that is just like home? For me, that did sound like heaven. Although that appearance of their female had me slightly disappointed, but nevertheless I'm all nature guy myself. "Could I... Uhm.. Could you take me there? I would love to look around" I said. "Oh yes! You should take your smartphone as well. Our scientists, although they use magic and never read any books on universe laws, will be happy to analyse this device and maybe one day with your help make a working copy of it for ourselves." Little did they know I had no intention of helping them advance their technology. Smartphones, TV's, cars, roads just for fun. What's next? Massive civilizations, overpopulated cities? No thank you. We already ruined our world and its nature, I won't let you do this as well. "I'll do everything I can to help you." I said, while my eyes stared at my smartphone's blinking red light at the top of the screen which indicated the nearby end of my battery. EDIT: I'm sorry for my grammar errors, I'm not a native speaker and I've never posted here. Plus, it's a bit off-topic, but I hope you will forgive my sins.
	[WP] All of humanity is suddenly under the control of a hive mind and you are it's "queen"...entirely by accident. You're trying to solve this dilemma while being veeeery careful about your emotions as a stray thought might accidentally kill hundreds.	Before the moment of one, I was I and you were you. Now there is no difference. This is what we pass to you, as we. You will see it through my eyes, my memories. You will understand, and our peace and shared joy will reign eternal. I dare not think of pain or trouble, for I am now we, and I will not condemn us with my depression and anger. It's all important now, in this I cannot fail. We will listen now, and we will be you, and you will be me. You will fly with me through these crystaline dreams of life unsnared and individual. Though we are now all, you will see what was before, and I will not poison your thoughts and make them mine. Not like those who had put their bootheel on our souls before my time. Of them, there is no more. My rule will be compassion, and as much freedom for us as can be had. I promise us that. I promise you. It was 3pm, and I had been pondering what kind of dinner to make. I considered carrots, then I considered spinach, but I was lazy, and didn't feel like taking out my cutting board. So, I chose the frozen broccoli. It would be frozen broccoli that led to the continued existence of us, all of us. Also, it brought the instantaneous and total eradication of those who called themselves the Seyzvar. I never dreamed that broccoli could have the power to destroy worlds. If you've ever wondered why broccoli adorns our statues crowns, wonder no more. You must understand, there was a whole lot more going on while I was merrily opening the microwave door to cook my little meal. I had no way of knowing that at that very moment, a very specific and decidedly non human signal was just passing Luna, carrying a payload of resonant quantum waveform structures tuned specifically to the human consciousness. It had taken the Seyzvar fifteen thousand Earth years to get the data required to align their patterns to our neural resonances. When I hit the add-minute button on my microwave, I got so much more than freezer burned broccoli and hot flavorless cheese. In exactly 42 nanoseconds, I became all, and all became me. We. All. Every soul within 10,000 light years became my soul. Our soul. It was all very, very disorienting. Suddenly I found myself everywhere, and nowhere. Instantly, I could see through hundreds of trillions of eyes on 47 different worlds, feel the thoughts and tactile sensations of 2317 different species separated by distances which I could suddenly understand, but not fathom. Instantaneously, I became fluent in 177,317 languages, almost all of which I lacked the body parts to even hope to have a conversation. It was pretty overwhelming, and I am deeply sorry for the chaos that I created in those first days and weeks. I know that we considered suicide briefly. As we did, we watched two million Renna farmers immolate themselves. The visions we saw were more painful and horrifying than I could process. The shock in me was felt by all, and in the space of 59 seconds, just on Earth, 77,000 people died. Anyone around heavy machinery, vehicles, or in an unlucky spot when my shock transferred to all, almost instantly lost control of what they were doing, at their peril. At our peril. If it weren't for the beeping microwave, I don't know how many more would have died. I blacked out. It was the strangest blackout I ever experienced. While my body thumped against the carpet, suddenly I was at the controls of every sentient being in the local cluster, all at once. I could think with the power of all minds. I had the collected knowledge of things I had no language for. I knew what it felt like to make music as a cicada. I knew the passion of the Dar and the infinite sorrow of the Renna. I understood the rhythms of the Trappist moons and the impossible taste of a neutron star. I don't know how long I was out. It didn't matter. The wheel had begun to turn, and there was nothing that could stop what had been done. We are all in the wheel now. I know why I am at the center now. My decrepit microwave was 35 years old, and hadn't been cleaned since I was in college. A small hole had rusted through the lower left side, just in front of the elecrical outlet it was plugged into. I didn't even know it was there. The hole just happened to be shaped precisely the same as the waves of the incoming signal. There was a neighbor downstairs who happened to plug his phone into his charger at the precise moment he was connecting a call to his mom in Vancouver. Was murphy at work? or fate? Maybe something more? Of that, I am still unsure. The altered and strengthened waveform passed from my melting brain, to the broccoli, then through the power cord, through the outlet, then through my neighbors phone charger. The call my neighbor was making connected at the exact moment that all humanity became ensnared in the trap. I just happened to be standing in the exact path of the quantum data stream, redirected a la broccoli. Instead of carrying the sensitive quantum consciousnesses of the Seyzvar back to the reintegrator antennae on Tak, they found themselves briefly aware of the lavender scent of my skin, a vision of a dirty microwave oven, an unfamiliar smokey smell, the sound of M83 on the radio, and utter, horrified surprise. I really didn't mean to kill them all with one thought, but I panicked. I'm truly sorry. I know that they would have happily stolen us, but it still feels like genocide. When you suddenly find 150 billion minds all screaming inside of your own head, the mind basically vomits on all their faces at once. They drowned in it. I watched all of them die through their own eyes. Unfortunately for the Seyzvar, their equations did not account for broccoli. Instead of gaining a new planet full of mind slaves, they gained rapid, silent, unpleasant, and total annihilation. It's been 370 years, and we have struggled together. We have wondered. We have wandered. We have loved and lost. I am still here. We are still here. I don't know how, but we are. I wear this mantle as queen. I have no choice. But I can choose to free us now. At least as much as happiness allows.	The first thing I try to help calm my anxiety is by drinking some nice tea! Peppermint really is my favorite, because that will also settle my stomach if it's upset. I have a purse I carry with me at all times, filled with little "helpers" should I need a distraction. There are fuzzy swatches of cloth, smelling salts, an mp3 player, some fun puzzles, and other goodies! Today is just a normal day with anxiety, no big deal! Not like anything bad will happen, no! Going through lists is something I like to do! There are no deviations, no surprises... Just familiarity. I hum to myself as I pull a jacket on, which is going over a light sweater, and t-shirt. My belt makes happy clicking noises as I pull it through the belt loops of my jeans. It's almost time for me to go out in the world! I like hearing my shoelaces make zippy noises as I quadruple knot my shoes... You can never knot enough! As I finish my dressing ritual, I glance in the mirror, the same icy blue eyes gazing back as ever. I know that I am in control... I am in control! Pulling my gold hair back into a ponytail, I repeat this mantra, smoothing my hair behind my ears so not a single strand falls in my face. I turn from the mirror, thinking of how unwelcome hair touching my upper lip is, how vexing when my eyelashes get tousled by strands of hair... But it's okay! Really... With my trusty purse hanging by my side, as it always does, I walk steadily through my home, seeing everything in place. The crisp autumn air assails my face as I step out the door, sending my meticulously placed hair flying with the leaves that were rustled up from their previous homes. I hurry to my car, one hand frantically smoothing my hair down, the other fumbling for the keys in my purse. I can feel the strands of hair from my head dance across the peach fuzz of my forehead, a pervasive tickle skittering alongside them. Unlocking the car with a swift button press, I crudely sit down in the driver's seat, slamming the door shut behind me. Pulling the comb out of the center console of my car, I take all my hair out of the disheveled hairdo, brush it all out again, and retie it behind my head. God, or the devil, or whatever otherworldly matrix that drew this algorithm is in for quite the talking to when I make it to their place of residence. Humanity was doing just fine, I think as I pat my hair into place once again. Sure we are all killing each other on a daily basis, but wasn't the whole point of free will supposed to give the choice? By a maddening twist of fate, the powers that be decided to see if an authoritarian approach would relieve humanity's tendencies towards self destruction... And they chose not a calm, well mannered individual to dictate to the masses, but a half crazed college student with midterms coming up to shoulder the burden. The absurdity of this fiasco is enough to make me think it's not salvation the higher powers want, but mass elimination. Whoever gave the keys of life and death to me is a universally classed asshole, with a sadistic streak to boot. But I have a plan to rectify this entire scenario in less than an hour. I got into my car with my course laid out, I met the entity less than 30 minutes away from my town last night. As luck, or myself, would have it, this mess only started 12 hour prior. I drive towards the only bar I ever drank at, ever got drunk at, and ever stumbled out of. Traffic is light on the way, which gives me hope that I can get rid of this with no trouble. For an extra boost I play my Enya CD to keep my mind in the right place. She is one of my greatest defenses against panic, next to Andrea Bocelli, and Emi Evans. As I am cruising along the road, I get cut off by a large red truck. My arm and leg act simultaneously, stomping on the brake, and slamming down on the horn. A large, meaty, hand flies out the driver's side window, flipping me off as he speeds away. The sudden impact has launched me forward into my seat, grasping the steering wheel with now bloodless fingers. My hair is once again displaced from behind my ears. I didn't even have time to examine my state of mind before yet another horn blares from behind me, followed by yelling for me to drive again. I just realized, I came to a complete stop to avoid running into that crimson cur, and have been still ever since. There are people behind me, who have places to go. I step on the gas pedal with my heart pounding in my chest, thinking of how much better my day would be if that man had not even ex- no, I can't think like that. I can't even think that he should befall the slightest inconvenience, because it would become reality. Damn it! I turn my radio up, once again in the world of music. If any time is the right to let confrontations roll off my shoulders, it's this once. I flood my mind with observations of proper driving, not thinking of the people, but of the rules of the road. I successfully reach my destination, park, and hone in on my target, slowing my stride. I count every step that I take toward her, this decrepit woman with the gray shawl wrapped around her frame. Steel gray eyes lock onto my oncoming frame, she has an expression I can't figure out. She doesn't even finish greeting me as I interject rudely. "Take it back, make it stop, reverse whatever you pulled last night." Her eyes glimmer, and shift from gray to silver. Calmly pulling at her shawl, her melodious voice reverberates into the open air. "You haven't even been queen for 12 hours and you're already telling me to take it back? I thought you wanted to help humans!" I slide my hand into my purse, seeking out the velvet swatch to press my fingers into. Feeling the softness, I relax before turning my attention back to her words. I vainly try to recall, but she holds her hand up to pause me. "I was sitting alone on this very stoop last night, when you were coming back from the bar. I could see you were drunk beyond belief, but you still gave me money thinking I was homeless! I was surprised, and thanked you for your generosity. I remember you saying you liked helping others, and as you stumbled off I decided you were the perfect person for the job! Are you telling me that I was wrong?" "Yes! I don't know what you are, but you're wrong to choose a girl with anxiety for the position you have!" My hair was tickling my face from the breeze and I was fiddling with the zipper of my jacket in agitation. She must have enjoyed the response, because a wide smile broke out across her face. I took a couple of deep breaths, and forced myself to focus on my objective. I knelt down next to her, one hand on my knee, the other with the now abused scrap of fuzzy cloth. I admit to her my troubles of the drive over, I tell her that sometimes hearing other people just breathe loudly can send me over the edge, and based on my poor start this morning I would definitely cause a terrible loss of life if things continued any longer. She got up slowly, and ruffled my hair, causing it to spill out from my hair tie. Abandoning the velvet I grasp at my bangs, pressing tightly against my scalp, wondering if this was hell and she was tormenting me. She snapped her fingers, and walked away, saying "I'm not a demon, I simply wanted a little fun! You have provided that faster than any other human I've toyed with. Next time I'll choose someone who isn't so uppity"
	[WP] All of humanity is suddenly under the control of a hive mind and you are it's "queen"...entirely by accident. You're trying to solve this dilemma while being veeeery careful about your emotions as a stray thought might accidentally kill hundreds.	My mind has always been a place that I have guarded from others. I have never let very many people in. I’ve been protecting everyone this way. Me from the insult of not being believed, and them from the uncomfortable knowledge I own. My mind is different than most others’. I have Disassociative Identity Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The combination of these, along with the life experiences that accompany them, are more than most people could handle. I was doing good, keeping my circle small. We were thriving together. The flashbacks have slowly began to dissipate. I’ve been working on the hypervigilance, trying to relax more. The one thing I can’t seem to help are the compulsions from my OCD, but I, we, were doing good. We were doing good until it happened. I still don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but the entire world’s population became completely synced with my mind. I began to notice it when everyone around me continued to perform the same compulsions at the exact same time I did. That really freaked me out. Everyone around me seemed as freaked out as I was. I looked out the window. My alters began discussing what on earth that was all about, and I noticed people on the street stopping and looking around as if they were hearing voices, but were unsure of where they were coming from. Then, one of my more intelligent alters said, “they hear us too”. When she said that, everyone froze. No one, including myself, knew what to think of it. It took me a while to fully understand the extent of this hive-mind. Unfortunately, it didn’t take as long for me to understand the consequences of it. When everyone began hearing all of my alters as I do, many of them had anxiety attacks. They didn’t understand what they were hearing, or why they couldn’t figure out where they were coming from. They didn’t understand why some of the voices felt more like thoughts than someone speaking. It made them uncomfortable. The confusion of hearing other’s thoughts were nothing compared to the effects of the flashbacks. The first time the flashbacks happened, we lost over 250,000 people. They felt the pain of the knife through their skin just as I had all of those years ago. They felt the stinging of being beaten almost to death. Of being raped. And they couldn’t handle it. They physically, emotionally, and psychologically didn’t know how to cope with it, so they decided they wouldn’t. After two weeks of flashbacks, we had lost 45% of the population. After two months, the rest were slowly dying from stress related issues and sleep deprivation. The effects of insomnia and constant nightmares have an incredibly detrimental effect on people’s mental and physical health. It showed. I had realized that the better my mental health, the better the health of the world’s population. But what was I supposed to to? I had been trying to better my mental health for the past 12 years, and you can see where that had gotten us so far. After 8 months, the death rate was up to 86%, and I could no longer handle it. I felt responsible for all of this death, and I went into a darker place mentally. 98%. I felt alone, so we all felt alone. 99.7%. Where is everyone? What’s the point? When the world population fell below .0001% of what it had been just a year before, I decided it was time for a meeting. I refused to just let the human race completely fade away. I was strong. I ad been strong enough to handle these things for years and years. I realized that they had too. Not for as long, but nevertheless they had survived. There were 7,648 humans left. We met. We decided that we were strong enough to endure this. We had come this far; we could go even further. We learned that we could divide into groups and each group could focus on one of my alters’ thoughts and words. This was the beginning of the elite. The strongest in the world. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. Each group had different strengths. We began to grow. We began to reproduce. We began to thrive. After several years, we came to learn that the children were born with the hive-mind as a guiding voice. They described it like a mix between a conscience and an alter. The hive-mind became a guide for them, rather than a dictator. And so the world was rebuilt.	The first thing I try to help calm my anxiety is by drinking some nice tea! Peppermint really is my favorite, because that will also settle my stomach if it's upset. I have a purse I carry with me at all times, filled with little "helpers" should I need a distraction. There are fuzzy swatches of cloth, smelling salts, an mp3 player, some fun puzzles, and other goodies! Today is just a normal day with anxiety, no big deal! Not like anything bad will happen, no! Going through lists is something I like to do! There are no deviations, no surprises... Just familiarity. I hum to myself as I pull a jacket on, which is going over a light sweater, and t-shirt. My belt makes happy clicking noises as I pull it through the belt loops of my jeans. It's almost time for me to go out in the world! I like hearing my shoelaces make zippy noises as I quadruple knot my shoes... You can never knot enough! As I finish my dressing ritual, I glance in the mirror, the same icy blue eyes gazing back as ever. I know that I am in control... I am in control! Pulling my gold hair back into a ponytail, I repeat this mantra, smoothing my hair behind my ears so not a single strand falls in my face. I turn from the mirror, thinking of how unwelcome hair touching my upper lip is, how vexing when my eyelashes get tousled by strands of hair... But it's okay! Really... With my trusty purse hanging by my side, as it always does, I walk steadily through my home, seeing everything in place. The crisp autumn air assails my face as I step out the door, sending my meticulously placed hair flying with the leaves that were rustled up from their previous homes. I hurry to my car, one hand frantically smoothing my hair down, the other fumbling for the keys in my purse. I can feel the strands of hair from my head dance across the peach fuzz of my forehead, a pervasive tickle skittering alongside them. Unlocking the car with a swift button press, I crudely sit down in the driver's seat, slamming the door shut behind me. Pulling the comb out of the center console of my car, I take all my hair out of the disheveled hairdo, brush it all out again, and retie it behind my head. God, or the devil, or whatever otherworldly matrix that drew this algorithm is in for quite the talking to when I make it to their place of residence. Humanity was doing just fine, I think as I pat my hair into place once again. Sure we are all killing each other on a daily basis, but wasn't the whole point of free will supposed to give the choice? By a maddening twist of fate, the powers that be decided to see if an authoritarian approach would relieve humanity's tendencies towards self destruction... And they chose not a calm, well mannered individual to dictate to the masses, but a half crazed college student with midterms coming up to shoulder the burden. The absurdity of this fiasco is enough to make me think it's not salvation the higher powers want, but mass elimination. Whoever gave the keys of life and death to me is a universally classed asshole, with a sadistic streak to boot. But I have a plan to rectify this entire scenario in less than an hour. I got into my car with my course laid out, I met the entity less than 30 minutes away from my town last night. As luck, or myself, would have it, this mess only started 12 hour prior. I drive towards the only bar I ever drank at, ever got drunk at, and ever stumbled out of. Traffic is light on the way, which gives me hope that I can get rid of this with no trouble. For an extra boost I play my Enya CD to keep my mind in the right place. She is one of my greatest defenses against panic, next to Andrea Bocelli, and Emi Evans. As I am cruising along the road, I get cut off by a large red truck. My arm and leg act simultaneously, stomping on the brake, and slamming down on the horn. A large, meaty, hand flies out the driver's side window, flipping me off as he speeds away. The sudden impact has launched me forward into my seat, grasping the steering wheel with now bloodless fingers. My hair is once again displaced from behind my ears. I didn't even have time to examine my state of mind before yet another horn blares from behind me, followed by yelling for me to drive again. I just realized, I came to a complete stop to avoid running into that crimson cur, and have been still ever since. There are people behind me, who have places to go. I step on the gas pedal with my heart pounding in my chest, thinking of how much better my day would be if that man had not even ex- no, I can't think like that. I can't even think that he should befall the slightest inconvenience, because it would become reality. Damn it! I turn my radio up, once again in the world of music. If any time is the right to let confrontations roll off my shoulders, it's this once. I flood my mind with observations of proper driving, not thinking of the people, but of the rules of the road. I successfully reach my destination, park, and hone in on my target, slowing my stride. I count every step that I take toward her, this decrepit woman with the gray shawl wrapped around her frame. Steel gray eyes lock onto my oncoming frame, she has an expression I can't figure out. She doesn't even finish greeting me as I interject rudely. "Take it back, make it stop, reverse whatever you pulled last night." Her eyes glimmer, and shift from gray to silver. Calmly pulling at her shawl, her melodious voice reverberates into the open air. "You haven't even been queen for 12 hours and you're already telling me to take it back? I thought you wanted to help humans!" I slide my hand into my purse, seeking out the velvet swatch to press my fingers into. Feeling the softness, I relax before turning my attention back to her words. I vainly try to recall, but she holds her hand up to pause me. "I was sitting alone on this very stoop last night, when you were coming back from the bar. I could see you were drunk beyond belief, but you still gave me money thinking I was homeless! I was surprised, and thanked you for your generosity. I remember you saying you liked helping others, and as you stumbled off I decided you were the perfect person for the job! Are you telling me that I was wrong?" "Yes! I don't know what you are, but you're wrong to choose a girl with anxiety for the position you have!" My hair was tickling my face from the breeze and I was fiddling with the zipper of my jacket in agitation. She must have enjoyed the response, because a wide smile broke out across her face. I took a couple of deep breaths, and forced myself to focus on my objective. I knelt down next to her, one hand on my knee, the other with the now abused scrap of fuzzy cloth. I admit to her my troubles of the drive over, I tell her that sometimes hearing other people just breathe loudly can send me over the edge, and based on my poor start this morning I would definitely cause a terrible loss of life if things continued any longer. She got up slowly, and ruffled my hair, causing it to spill out from my hair tie. Abandoning the velvet I grasp at my bangs, pressing tightly against my scalp, wondering if this was hell and she was tormenting me. She snapped her fingers, and walked away, saying "I'm not a demon, I simply wanted a little fun! You have provided that faster than any other human I've toyed with. Next time I'll choose someone who isn't so uppity"
	[WP] All of humanity is suddenly under the control of a hive mind and you are it's "queen"...entirely by accident. You're trying to solve this dilemma while being veeeery careful about your emotions as a stray thought might accidentally kill hundreds.	Before the moment of one, I was I and you were you. Now there is no difference. This is what we pass to you, as we. You will see it through my eyes, my memories. You will understand, and our peace and shared joy will reign eternal. I dare not think of pain or trouble, for I am now we, and I will not condemn us with my depression and anger. It's all important now, in this I cannot fail. We will listen now, and we will be you, and you will be me. You will fly with me through these crystaline dreams of life unsnared and individual. Though we are now all, you will see what was before, and I will not poison your thoughts and make them mine. Not like those who had put their bootheel on our souls before my time. Of them, there is no more. My rule will be compassion, and as much freedom for us as can be had. I promise us that. I promise you. It was 3pm, and I had been pondering what kind of dinner to make. I considered carrots, then I considered spinach, but I was lazy, and didn't feel like taking out my cutting board. So, I chose the frozen broccoli. It would be frozen broccoli that led to the continued existence of us, all of us. Also, it brought the instantaneous and total eradication of those who called themselves the Seyzvar. I never dreamed that broccoli could have the power to destroy worlds. If you've ever wondered why broccoli adorns our statues crowns, wonder no more. You must understand, there was a whole lot more going on while I was merrily opening the microwave door to cook my little meal. I had no way of knowing that at that very moment, a very specific and decidedly non human signal was just passing Luna, carrying a payload of resonant quantum waveform structures tuned specifically to the human consciousness. It had taken the Seyzvar fifteen thousand Earth years to get the data required to align their patterns to our neural resonances. When I hit the add-minute button on my microwave, I got so much more than freezer burned broccoli and hot flavorless cheese. In exactly 42 nanoseconds, I became all, and all became me. We. All. Every soul within 10,000 light years became my soul. Our soul. It was all very, very disorienting. Suddenly I found myself everywhere, and nowhere. Instantly, I could see through hundreds of trillions of eyes on 47 different worlds, feel the thoughts and tactile sensations of 2317 different species separated by distances which I could suddenly understand, but not fathom. Instantaneously, I became fluent in 177,317 languages, almost all of which I lacked the body parts to even hope to have a conversation. It was pretty overwhelming, and I am deeply sorry for the chaos that I created in those first days and weeks. I know that we considered suicide briefly. As we did, we watched two million Renna farmers immolate themselves. The visions we saw were more painful and horrifying than I could process. The shock in me was felt by all, and in the space of 59 seconds, just on Earth, 77,000 people died. Anyone around heavy machinery, vehicles, or in an unlucky spot when my shock transferred to all, almost instantly lost control of what they were doing, at their peril. At our peril. If it weren't for the beeping microwave, I don't know how many more would have died. I blacked out. It was the strangest blackout I ever experienced. While my body thumped against the carpet, suddenly I was at the controls of every sentient being in the local cluster, all at once. I could think with the power of all minds. I had the collected knowledge of things I had no language for. I knew what it felt like to make music as a cicada. I knew the passion of the Dar and the infinite sorrow of the Renna. I understood the rhythms of the Trappist moons and the impossible taste of a neutron star. I don't know how long I was out. It didn't matter. The wheel had begun to turn, and there was nothing that could stop what had been done. We are all in the wheel now. I know why I am at the center now. My decrepit microwave was 35 years old, and hadn't been cleaned since I was in college. A small hole had rusted through the lower left side, just in front of the elecrical outlet it was plugged into. I didn't even know it was there. The hole just happened to be shaped precisely the same as the waves of the incoming signal. There was a neighbor downstairs who happened to plug his phone into his charger at the precise moment he was connecting a call to his mom in Vancouver. Was murphy at work? or fate? Maybe something more? Of that, I am still unsure. The altered and strengthened waveform passed from my melting brain, to the broccoli, then through the power cord, through the outlet, then through my neighbors phone charger. The call my neighbor was making connected at the exact moment that all humanity became ensnared in the trap. I just happened to be standing in the exact path of the quantum data stream, redirected a la broccoli. Instead of carrying the sensitive quantum consciousnesses of the Seyzvar back to the reintegrator antennae on Tak, they found themselves briefly aware of the lavender scent of my skin, a vision of a dirty microwave oven, an unfamiliar smokey smell, the sound of M83 on the radio, and utter, horrified surprise. I really didn't mean to kill them all with one thought, but I panicked. I'm truly sorry. I know that they would have happily stolen us, but it still feels like genocide. When you suddenly find 150 billion minds all screaming inside of your own head, the mind basically vomits on all their faces at once. They drowned in it. I watched all of them die through their own eyes. Unfortunately for the Seyzvar, their equations did not account for broccoli. Instead of gaining a new planet full of mind slaves, they gained rapid, silent, unpleasant, and total annihilation. It's been 370 years, and we have struggled together. We have wondered. We have wandered. We have loved and lost. I am still here. We are still here. I don't know how, but we are. I wear this mantle as queen. I have no choice. But I can choose to free us now. At least as much as happiness allows.	IT'S BEEN one week since the rest of humanity became my slaves. I don't know the cause of this behaviour, I'm assuming pheromones or something since they collectively seem to be in tune with me and my body. To that end of pheromone distribution, I've stripped down to nothing. This doesn't seem to bother any of my "brood" as they seem happy to serve. I am noticing slight muscle atrophy as they've been carrying me basically non-stop since I found out about my powers. I am becoming slightly concerned at the frequency at which I'm being jabbed by their newly formed proboscises, but I'm sure it's not going to become a real problem.
	[WP] All of humanity is suddenly under the control of a hive mind and you are it's "queen"...entirely by accident. You're trying to solve this dilemma while being veeeery careful about your emotions as a stray thought might accidentally kill hundreds.	My mind has always been a place that I have guarded from others. I have never let very many people in. I’ve been protecting everyone this way. Me from the insult of not being believed, and them from the uncomfortable knowledge I own. My mind is different than most others’. I have Disassociative Identity Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The combination of these, along with the life experiences that accompany them, are more than most people could handle. I was doing good, keeping my circle small. We were thriving together. The flashbacks have slowly began to dissipate. I’ve been working on the hypervigilance, trying to relax more. The one thing I can’t seem to help are the compulsions from my OCD, but I, we, were doing good. We were doing good until it happened. I still don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but the entire world’s population became completely synced with my mind. I began to notice it when everyone around me continued to perform the same compulsions at the exact same time I did. That really freaked me out. Everyone around me seemed as freaked out as I was. I looked out the window. My alters began discussing what on earth that was all about, and I noticed people on the street stopping and looking around as if they were hearing voices, but were unsure of where they were coming from. Then, one of my more intelligent alters said, “they hear us too”. When she said that, everyone froze. No one, including myself, knew what to think of it. It took me a while to fully understand the extent of this hive-mind. Unfortunately, it didn’t take as long for me to understand the consequences of it. When everyone began hearing all of my alters as I do, many of them had anxiety attacks. They didn’t understand what they were hearing, or why they couldn’t figure out where they were coming from. They didn’t understand why some of the voices felt more like thoughts than someone speaking. It made them uncomfortable. The confusion of hearing other’s thoughts were nothing compared to the effects of the flashbacks. The first time the flashbacks happened, we lost over 250,000 people. They felt the pain of the knife through their skin just as I had all of those years ago. They felt the stinging of being beaten almost to death. Of being raped. And they couldn’t handle it. They physically, emotionally, and psychologically didn’t know how to cope with it, so they decided they wouldn’t. After two weeks of flashbacks, we had lost 45% of the population. After two months, the rest were slowly dying from stress related issues and sleep deprivation. The effects of insomnia and constant nightmares have an incredibly detrimental effect on people’s mental and physical health. It showed. I had realized that the better my mental health, the better the health of the world’s population. But what was I supposed to to? I had been trying to better my mental health for the past 12 years, and you can see where that had gotten us so far. After 8 months, the death rate was up to 86%, and I could no longer handle it. I felt responsible for all of this death, and I went into a darker place mentally. 98%. I felt alone, so we all felt alone. 99.7%. Where is everyone? What’s the point? When the world population fell below .0001% of what it had been just a year before, I decided it was time for a meeting. I refused to just let the human race completely fade away. I was strong. I ad been strong enough to handle these things for years and years. I realized that they had too. Not for as long, but nevertheless they had survived. There were 7,648 humans left. We met. We decided that we were strong enough to endure this. We had come this far; we could go even further. We learned that we could divide into groups and each group could focus on one of my alters’ thoughts and words. This was the beginning of the elite. The strongest in the world. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. Each group had different strengths. We began to grow. We began to reproduce. We began to thrive. After several years, we came to learn that the children were born with the hive-mind as a guiding voice. They described it like a mix between a conscience and an alter. The hive-mind became a guide for them, rather than a dictator. And so the world was rebuilt.	IT'S BEEN one week since the rest of humanity became my slaves. I don't know the cause of this behaviour, I'm assuming pheromones or something since they collectively seem to be in tune with me and my body. To that end of pheromone distribution, I've stripped down to nothing. This doesn't seem to bother any of my "brood" as they seem happy to serve. I am noticing slight muscle atrophy as they've been carrying me basically non-stop since I found out about my powers. I am becoming slightly concerned at the frequency at which I'm being jabbed by their newly formed proboscises, but I'm sure it's not going to become a real problem.
	[WP] All of humanity is suddenly under the control of a hive mind and you are it's "queen"...entirely by accident. You're trying to solve this dilemma while being veeeery careful about your emotions as a stray thought might accidentally kill hundreds.	They’ve always said that the human brain is the most powerful computer. Faster than any processor, more capable than any storage device. Scientists have been trying for years to replicate the way that we store information in our very DNA. They’ve been continually unsuccessful. Now, one bright soul thought why replicate, when we can just utilize what’s already available to us. They turned their focus from creating a new machine, to working on programming a single brain to be more like a machine. When they had success on that front, research really developed quickly. If one person’s brain could work at a set speed, couldn’t two do the work in half the time? Relay points were created, where people could comfortably connect with the ongoing network. Turn their brain power over for a set amount of time to work on the world's problems. Famine, disease, natural disasters. If enough people dedicated their brain time to working in relay groups, any problem could be solved. The more people working on it, plugged into the relay, the quicker an answer was presented. When I joined into the “effects of carbon in the atmosphere” study, I thought it was just another time in the Relay. There were so many people involved, it didn’t even take my full brain power. I was able to listen to the news, look at the pictures on my phone. Sure I got distracted easily, but did it matter? It was for the greater good. As I sat there, more and more people joined into the Relay. We aren’t talking hundreds, or even thousands, we are talking hundreds of millions of people. The results that we were getting were that the current pollution levels were devastatingly high, and the proposed corrections were either too little, too late or simply not effective enough. Announcements were made, asking for people - any and all - to donate their time and energy to this problem that affected us as a species. Put our future and livelihood at risk. The announcements worked. At the most recent checking, there were nearly 6.5 billion people connected. A majority of the human race. The Relay system had never been so overloaded. The combined brainpower was getting sidetracked by any stray piece of information. whole systems of problems were being solved on the side. The feeling of being involved was intoxicating. Knowing and thinking the same thing as so many other people. I remember closing my eyes and sinking myself into the feeling. Within moments, I could not only know and think the same as them, I could also feel the same as them. So many emotions. All set aside for a moment in time to focus on solving the latest problem. Then there was a flicker. A microseconds of disconnect. I was alone - back in my body, in my pod. It was terrifying. But not as terrifying as what came next. Wave upon wave of emotion, of feeling. I reached for my face, for my connection to my pod and to the Relay. And I felt everyone else do it too. Except, there wasn’t really an everyone else. It was me, and more me, separated into nearly 7 billion bodies. Bodies that dropped dead as I panicked and tried to unplug myself. With the sheer volume of bodies, there was a delay of sorts. The moment I realized bodies were dying I stopped. Stopped moving. Stopped feeling. Stopped thinking. That killed more. I had to think, I had to continue to exist. I had to survive. We had to survive. r/LandOfMisfits	Day 2 I have already led the death of millions, what should I do? The numbers are only climbing upwards, never falling. Come on, conceal don't feel, don't let them know. Damn it, that Frozen song is stuck in my head again. &#x200B; Day 6 HIBERNATION DID NOT WORK, I REPEAT DID NOT WORK. &#x200B; Day 30 I am at peace in heart and mind, hear no evil, see no evil. I did not mean blind yourselves! Geeze, the hive is dumb. &#x200B; Day 65 Spotted another hive, brave thoughts, brave thoughts. Deep breaths, deep breaths, stay calm. &#x200B; Day 98 Bigger hive, more minds, more life, more control. &#x200B; Day 360 Bigger hive, more power, more strain. &#x200B; Day 450 Hive big, too many, too many. &#x200B; Day 600 Hive is one.
	[WP] In a rush, you decide to email a file to yourself. When you check your inbox the email never went through. Days later you receive a response... it's from a very confused version of you in another dimension.	>Subject: todo > >\-look for a new apartment > >\-cancel gym subscription > >\-call mom back > >\-plan joy's funeral > >Attachments: PiscatawayFuneralHomeForm.pdf Edgar pressed send. He would fill this out later, he thought. He just couldn't now. It felt like part of him died with her, and he couldn't will himself to do much of anything anymore. &#x200B; The next morning, Edgar was checking his email as per routine, and was confused as to why he couldn't find his message in his inbox. Edgar checked his sent folder, and sure enough, it was there. Edgar double checked the recipient email address, confirming it was his email. It even said "Sent", with no error message apparent. Odd, but no matter, he had the file he needed. Just then, his email alerted him of new incoming mail. >From: Edgar Nielsen > >Subject: RE: todo > >What kind of sick joke is this?? How did you email me with my own email? And don't you dare imply my wife is dead again, you sick fuck, or I will be taking this as a death threat and will go to cops. Edgar was shaking. He checked his sent mail folder again, but there was nothing new there. This didn't come from his email, but it somehow looked like it did. Edgar wrote back. >Subject: RE: RE: todo > >I'm sorry. I meant to sent that email to myself. I'm talking about my wife, Joy. Not yours. If you don't mind me asking, who or what are you? Edgar didn't get a response. &#x200B; Days passed, and still nothing. Edgar didn't know what to make of it. Was it a spirit, perhaps his spirit? Perhaps there was something like an afterlife or spiritual world, and maybe Joy was there, along with part of his soul, and they just don't know they're dead. He didn't know. But some part of him felt, irrationally perhaps, hopeful at the thought that maybe Joy wasn't dead. Not really gone, at least. Somehow. And so, in a long-shot, he emailed his late wife. >Subject: I love you > >I miss you so much, Joy. I wish I could hold you tight again. I'm sorry I didn't tell you every goddamn day how much I love you. To Edgar's surprise, he didn't immediately receive the automated response he had set for her email. He bit his fingernails, eagerly awaiting a reply. And to his amazement, he got it! >Subject: re: I love you > >Holy sweet-pie, I love you! It's my lunch break and you're making me blush. You really couldn't wait until I got home, EdMuffin? Wish I could skip the rest of the day and run straight to your arms. > >Love, > >Joy The response was just a few sentences, but Edgar knew this was Joy. It was really Joy. His Joy! Edgar checked his wife's email, but there was no email from him, and no email to him since her death. Edgar didn't understand the spirit world, or why he could communicate to them via email, but as long as he could talk to his wife, he didn't care. &#x200B; Over the next couple days, Edgar sent Joy more emails, but he never received another response. Worried, Edgar sent her more emails every day, until one morning when he finally received another email. Only, it wasn't from Joy. >From: Edgar Nielsen > >Subject: Don't email ANY of us again > >I don't know how you got her email, but stop emailing us. Stop impersonating me. I reported you to the authorities. Edgar felt bad they had the wrong opinion of him. He tried to send Joy another email, but to his surprise, he received an automated response informing him of her death. No, he cried. Edgar sank to the floor. It felt like she was dying all over again. His phone alerted him of another email. Edgar desperately opened it, confused. >From: Timeline and Interdimensional Management Entity > >Subject: Interdimensional Database Bug > >Dear Mr. Nielsen from Dimension B79, > >Timeline and Interdimensional Management Entity (TIME) is an interdimensional security organization focused on both intelligence and law enforcement. > >During this week you may have noticed problems with your email. Our organization relies on interdimensional communication, and this includes interdimensional email. Unfortunately, our interdimensional database granted special permissions to over 10,000 email accounts from your dimension, Dimension B79, and another dimension, Dimension A79, causing affected accounts to email their counterparts from another dimensions instead of their desired recipient in their current dimension. > >We have become aware of the issue this morning and have immediately rectified it. We are sorry for the inconvenience. > >Stay tuned for a very important announcement regarding the strict laws on time and interdimensional travel. This upcoming announcement will be broadcast in detail later this year in every dimension. > >Sincerely, > >Peter Asher Fitzgerald > >Director of TIME	Hello. This is Carl. Look. I don't know who you are. I got this email from you, apparently it's for you. You have the same name as me and live at the same address, apparently. I'm a little confused. You seem to know an awful lot about me. Who put you up to this? This. This has to be a prank. Look i'm not laughing. There is nothing funny about this. I'm actually getting a little pissed. How did you get my email address? Only five or six people know it tops. Why? Why, would you send this too me? I opened the attachment. I almost fainted. How did you make the picture? Did you have picture of her from before? It was the best photo shop I've ever seen. That was the worst part. It was so real. Did I say It's a great photo shop? I miss Helen. The picture looks just like her. I miss her so very much. Fuck you for doing this to me. Prick.
	[WP] You wake up to a blood curdling scream. “DAD HELP THERES A MONSTER IN MY ROOM!!” You spring out of bed and run to the room but before you open the door, you realized. “Wait a minute....I don’t even have kids”	I hesitated before opening the door. "I don't have a daughter anymore. I lost her, I lost her...." I repeat again and again, standing there frozen in front of her old room "DADDY... HELP ME, DADDY...THERE IS A MONSTER, DADDYYY..." I hear the screams of my little angel, the same screams that I heard that cursed night 10 years ago. I open the door, her old room was intact, untouched after the Police liberated the crime scene and closed the case.... Exactly this same date, ten years ago Dust danced on the air, reflecting the moon light, revealing a silent, empty room. I'm not sure what was expecting to see, but she was not there. That's when I hear light, rushed footsteps down the hall, I turn, looking for the source of the sound and for a brief moment I saw a tiny figure, running downstairs "Jessica?, Jessi... Is that really you?" I call, expecting and fearing to have an answer to that question I ran downstairs looking for Jessica and that is the moment when I see her, sitting in the middle of the living room. A small, five year old girl... My girl, my Jessi ... She looked the same, after a decade she was still my little girl Her dark hair covered her face, she looked so frail, so delicate I wanted to hug her and just forget the horrors of the last ten years... "DADDY... WHY DO YOU LEFT ME ALONE? ... YOU DIDN'T HELP ME..." My angel's voice turned dark, coarse, it was the confirmation of my darkest fears. She was not my Jessi, whatever it was, she was not my little girl... The creature wearing my daughter's skin stood up, unfolding like a sinister marionette, thin skeletal limbs with too many joints, all in the wrong places, moving in a unholy dance. A pale arm ending in bony claws pointed at me. "TEN YEARS AGO, YOU ESCAPED FROM YOUR DESTINY, I WAITED FOR THE STARS TO BE RIGHT AGAIN, NOW YOUR TIME HAS COME..." The creature tried to grab me but froze, struggling against invisible chains holding it in place. I took a small UV lamp from my pocket and use the light to reveal the multitude of arcane symbols and sigils covering the walls and ceiling "Those are pentagramic runes of protection, that is the sigil of the burning pillar and that is the Seal of Dei Ameth ... Even if you break one, you cannot escape all" I open the closet, my blood boiling with hate, I can feel the anger rising in my soul when I took the next surprise of the night. An ancient sword, heavily ornated with strange symbols and latin prayers. The silver blade shows my reflection, my face now is a horrible mask of calm, cold anger. I turn to face the creature "And this is the Sword of Saint Honorius... Even an abomination like you must know what is it. I spent the last decade preparing for this day. And now, it's time for vengance. Welcome to your personal Hell" "Forgive me Jessi, I failed once but at least I will avenge you"	Hip deep in a dream about hunting, I was sitting in my stand waiting for a buck, one comes carefully into my killzone. (Too small, won't even be good eating) I let him nibble a little on the bait, as I had just about figured out how to get rid of him, his big brother comes along. Solid ten point, biggest spread you could imagine. Trying to keep my cool, I eased my crossbow up and into my shoulder. "DAD..........MONSTER.......OOM!" I snapped out of my dream before I knew exactly what it was that I had heard. Then it was there again, clear this time "DAD HELP THERES A MONSTER IN MY ROOM!!" Throwing my blankets off to the side I scrambled quickly out of my bed and sprinted down the hall, three doors in less than ten seconds. The handle was in my hand and half turned before I took a sharp breath, the air was so cold it made my lungs burn. That momentary pain made me hack uncontrollably, those few seconds let me think. (I don't have kids) "DAD! IT'S GOING TO GET ME!" It came from the other side of the door, shock was all I felt, "DAD!" That scream was far more desperate than the others, instinct over took fear, whipping the door open I saw too many things that couldn't be, first I was in a kids room where a closet should have been. Next up on this impossible rollercoaster, I........... couldn't tell you what it was, it was all black, moved like some kind of animal, but was every inch a human silhouette, it was hard to track. As if it didn't want to be seen. It crawled down a wall, flipping onto its feet from a hand stand near the bottom. It looked at me, or at least in my direction, then darted after the kid in the bed. Digging with everything I had I charged in, aiming for the bed. If I could just get in between it and the kid, I might have a chance to get the kid out. (Damn it's fast) I was closer to the bed than it was, but it was much faster, I managed to get there an instant too slow. It was on the bed in a single fluid motion, I clumsily tackled it and we both went over the side. As soon as I made contact with it, I felt like I was drenched in liquid nitrogen. It was so cold it burned, and for some reason it recoiled from me, it looked like some black smoke rolled off of it when we separated. Hissing, screaming at me, it circled a bit, looking to get around me, I kept moving so that through me was the shortest and only route it could take. Crawling on all fours like some twisted creature, it would lunge and swipe, then quickly jump back. Waiting, this time when it started to move I lunged just as it left the ground and grabbed it around the neck, violently shoving it face down (?) I pinned it underneath my hands and squeezed. My world was rocked with pain, but I decided it was either be hurt or be dead, and I needed to see if this was just a dream. My hands sunk into its neck, squeezing tighter they continued to sink. It struggled less and less until it finally lay still, I kept up the pressure for a slow count of sixty, the pain and the chill ebbed as I counted. After I finished I got up and looked for the kid, he was gone, I looked towards the other door, it was open. (Smart kid) I got up and looked towards the closet door, it was still open to my hallway, I stepped through it and closed the door behind me. Sinking down in front of it I looked at my hands, they felt numb, and they were red, some blisters were there on my palms. As I looked they slowly faded away, (I guess this is just some kind of crazy dream, but how would I know if I was dreaming?) My girlfriend woke me up in the hallway. "Are you alright, Rick?" "Yeah, I am good, crazy dream must have passed out heading back to bed" she smiled and said "okay if your sure, I am getting ready to get some coffee, want me to bring you something?" Rick shook his head and got up to go get dressed. He went to the bathroom and showered first, after he got out he looked in the mirror "YOU WON THIS TIME, YOU WON'T EVER WIN AGAIN"
	[WP] You wake up to a blood curdling scream. “DAD HELP THERES A MONSTER IN MY ROOM!!” You spring out of bed and run to the room but before you open the door, you realized. “Wait a minute....I don’t even have kids”	I hesitated before opening the door. "I don't have a daughter anymore. I lost her, I lost her...." I repeat again and again, standing there frozen in front of her old room "DADDY... HELP ME, DADDY...THERE IS A MONSTER, DADDYYY..." I hear the screams of my little angel, the same screams that I heard that cursed night 10 years ago. I open the door, her old room was intact, untouched after the Police liberated the crime scene and closed the case.... Exactly this same date, ten years ago Dust danced on the air, reflecting the moon light, revealing a silent, empty room. I'm not sure what was expecting to see, but she was not there. That's when I hear light, rushed footsteps down the hall, I turn, looking for the source of the sound and for a brief moment I saw a tiny figure, running downstairs "Jessica?, Jessi... Is that really you?" I call, expecting and fearing to have an answer to that question I ran downstairs looking for Jessica and that is the moment when I see her, sitting in the middle of the living room. A small, five year old girl... My girl, my Jessi ... She looked the same, after a decade she was still my little girl Her dark hair covered her face, she looked so frail, so delicate I wanted to hug her and just forget the horrors of the last ten years... "DADDY... WHY DO YOU LEFT ME ALONE? ... YOU DIDN'T HELP ME..." My angel's voice turned dark, coarse, it was the confirmation of my darkest fears. She was not my Jessi, whatever it was, she was not my little girl... The creature wearing my daughter's skin stood up, unfolding like a sinister marionette, thin skeletal limbs with too many joints, all in the wrong places, moving in a unholy dance. A pale arm ending in bony claws pointed at me. "TEN YEARS AGO, YOU ESCAPED FROM YOUR DESTINY, I WAITED FOR THE STARS TO BE RIGHT AGAIN, NOW YOUR TIME HAS COME..." The creature tried to grab me but froze, struggling against invisible chains holding it in place. I took a small UV lamp from my pocket and use the light to reveal the multitude of arcane symbols and sigils covering the walls and ceiling "Those are pentagramic runes of protection, that is the sigil of the burning pillar and that is the Seal of Dei Ameth ... Even if you break one, you cannot escape all" I open the closet, my blood boiling with hate, I can feel the anger rising in my soul when I took the next surprise of the night. An ancient sword, heavily ornated with strange symbols and latin prayers. The silver blade shows my reflection, my face now is a horrible mask of calm, cold anger. I turn to face the creature "And this is the Sword of Saint Honorius... Even an abomination like you must know what is it. I spent the last decade preparing for this day. And now, it's time for vengance. Welcome to your personal Hell" "Forgive me Jessi, I failed once but at least I will avenge you"	Well not anymore, at least. Every night this same horrific thing happens. You’d think I’d be desensitized from these waking nightmares by now, it’s been nine years for fuck’s sake. But no, in fact I wouldn’t hesitate to say that it’s getting worse. Horrific visions when I just want to sleep, long, paralyzing day dreams when I try to work, and a complete inability to relax. We tried therapy for a while after it happened, my ex and I. The therapist tried her best to convince us that it wasn’t our fault, that our little girl’s blood wasn’t on our hands. Yet every session ended more or less the same way, my wife crying while slowly contemplating the idea of forgiveness while I sat in more or less silence, wanting nothing more than to be able to do the same. But I couldn’t, I still can’t. I made it probably three sessions before I started making excuses that inevitably resulted in tearful screaming matches as our already damaged hearts broke even further. She left me a year later, hugging me one last time. It all hit me at once that our relationship was no longer an option, it had been fractured beyond repair. She had our daughter’s eyes and that marked the second time I’d lost that beautiful green gaze. And so I pour another glass of whatever was on sale and light another joint of whatever cheap, dry shit the guy down the block had on hand. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. We were happy and now “we” no longer exist.
[deleted]	[WP] You have the ability to see and hear ghosts. But they can’t communicate with you. They never really take notice ever that you can see/hear them. Until one day a ghost that you’ve been watching closely everyday finally notices you.	Today, I'm ghost-watching again. It's a lonely hobby, without anyone to share pictures or stories with, unlike its equivalents such as bird-watching. But it's not without its perks, like exclusivity. I can hear them telepathically too, their thoughts intruding in my mind without any attempt of my own. Whether they can speak out loud or not I don’t know, but I’ve hazarded guesses that it stems from either an unwillingness to or a lack of vocal cords. Ghosts can stay on in our mortal plane for a multitude of reasons. Hatred, bitterness and all sorts of negative reasons top the list. But now and then, I come across a ghost like this one I’ve been watching for months, since he died in a car accident. He(I refused to call them ‘it’ and let them lose their last bit of human dignity) was staying on to wait for his spouse to pass as well, so that she wouldn’t be lonely on the next leg of her journey. The translucent man hovered above his wife’s bed, a look of warmth on his face as he watched over the woman who lay comatose from the same car accident as he. Delaying their own final rest due to an obsession gave ghosts a one track mind, unable to process anything outside of it, all their attention consumed by it and it alone. That’s why he had never noticed me watching as always, or the doctors milling about as they prepared to pull the plug on the woman, so as to end her prolonged suffering and let her die with dignity. I watched as the woman sloughed off her mortal flesh, the man hugging her and calming her during the first few moments of confusion that new ghosts always had. Finally freed of his obsession, the ghost’s mind finally processed my existence. His eyes slowly lit with the light of recognition. I tried to smile bravely at him, trying to stem the flow of tears. Hadn’t I already made my peace after months of looking at his ghost? Hadn’t I told myself not to let him worry as he passed on? So why did this goodbye hurt so much? “Goodbye, my dear son.”	[Poem] People don’t know how it feels. To have no one to touch. To have no one to talk to. To have no one who would talk to you. No one knows this feeling. Except for me. It’s not like I haven’t tried. Trust me I’ve tried. I’ve said “Hi” to everyone. But they all just walk through me. It’s like I’m invisible. No, not like. I am invisible. I just want to be seen. Please. That’s all I’m asking for. Then there was a touch. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. But why does this moment feel so terrible. Why is their hand so cold. Why do I feel such a sense of unease. “Alone, no tribe” That was what the touch said. And then the touch is gone. I’m all alone again.
[deleted]	[WP] You have the ability to see and hear ghosts. But they can’t communicate with you. They never really take notice ever that you can see/hear them. Until one day a ghost that you’ve been watching closely everyday finally notices you.	Wind passed through the window crack. It was soft and soothing. As I laid supine, tranquil and beyond all conformities of real life, my brain began buzzing and my mind formed a vortex that opened up a portal to outside. I entered it and opened my eyes, turned on my senses, and tuned into the frequencies of the ethereal world. The many haunting voices. I could feel their presence all around me; their endless cries of anguish and misery, both young and old, wreathed me in a demesne of sadness. Yet, all I feel was curiosity and subdued elation. It is great walking about again. I overslept in my real life body again; I almost forgot to wake up and breathe the fresh air outside. "Hello, good to see you." I turned around, startled. A ghost was standing before me, and a chill ran down my sides. Despite having spent months spying on them, eavesdropping their conversations and gamiliarizing with their hideous countenance, there was always fear inside me. It was a fear that I always felt, even before the incident, even in my time amongst the living, roused whenever someone accosted me with their presence. Today, the fear was greater than ever. My eyes met with the empty black holes on his skull. His face was bare to the bones, his mouth stuck in a perpetual grin. "Hello." I tried to speak, and sound came out of my mouth. I hadn't spoken in a long time. To my relief, I still had a few English words at my disposal. My mood was improved and I cleared my throat. "You are... Jackson?" "You know my name." The ghost spoke in his usual menacing voice. "You must have known quite a lot about me at this point. You know more about us than do ourselves." "Not really, I'm just a visitor. There is no need to take me seriously, for I don't belong here in this bizarre yet beautiful reality." "This is not reality." The ghost stared at me intently. "Nothing here is reserved for mortals. Yet here you are, everyday, learning more and more about death, while you are way better off living like a normal human." I gave a little chuckle. Jackson was one of the kinder ghosts, but he was capable of a big fight. I was glad I got to see this side of his instead. "It is not your place to tell me what to do. I was never meddlesome. I mind my own business, and I take pleasure in discovering your affairs, from which I find the meaning of life, an interest, a reason to continue." "I do not understand." Jackson shook his head. "Why? The time of living are the golden years. What follows is slow and painful decay. You see us, and you are aware of this, moreso than your peers." He limped towards me. His left leg was totalled by a construction truck when he was 45. He wore a prosthetic ever since, and nowadays he would often joke about it. He said he rather got killed by the truck then and not live out the rest of the years. "Go back, boy. Treasure life, just like they do." "Thank you, Jackson," I smiled. I chose to refrain from speaking. I'm never good at words, and I couldn't find a better way to end it than to give him a pat on the shoulders, a reassuring nod, before opening a portal in the plane of existence, through which I navigate Earth to visit my other deceased friends. I left, but Jackson remained at the back of mind, and as I sat silently at the corner watching the ghosts convene and chatter I couldn't help but shiver at the fact that they actually knew I was hiding, and out of deference or perhaps a certain sense of obligation they chose to let me be. They knew they were my only friends, and they didn't want to frighten me, a young living soul with innocuous intentions. I, however, felt a change within me. Suddenly, I wanted to stand up and walk up to them. My heart screamed upon the notion and hastened to stifle it, but its heavy beating was too loud to remain unnoticed. The ghosts fell silent, and one by one they turned their skulls towards me, their pale white bones glistening under the blazing sun. I thought I would flinch and run. I thought the fear would overcome me, and I thought I would call this a day and perhaps never come back. I didn't, and instead I got on to my feet, my eyes fixed unflinchingly on the dead men. A sense of comfort, almost welcoming, full of allure. It made me stay. My eyes welled up, and it didn't take long until tears started to flow. The ghosts came and put me in their arms. "It's okay. It's okay." They said. Outside, the hospital lights dimmed out. An arid day. The nurse came and left. Another page was torn off of the worn white wall next to my bed, on which I had been lying for god knows how long. A perfunctory visit. Understandable, considering the futility of all her efforts. After all, the best treatment for a coma patient is time. The doctors were finding a way to control the turbulence of my brain cells. Little do they know all I want was not a speedy recovery, but nothing at all, nothing more than a modicum of human connection.	[Poem] People don’t know how it feels. To have no one to touch. To have no one to talk to. To have no one who would talk to you. No one knows this feeling. Except for me. It’s not like I haven’t tried. Trust me I’ve tried. I’ve said “Hi” to everyone. But they all just walk through me. It’s like I’m invisible. No, not like. I am invisible. I just want to be seen. Please. That’s all I’m asking for. Then there was a touch. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. But why does this moment feel so terrible. Why is their hand so cold. Why do I feel such a sense of unease. “Alone, no tribe” That was what the touch said. And then the touch is gone. I’m all alone again.
	[WP] They killed his hound and stolen his horse. With nothing left, a knight comes out of retirement, a man named John, the Wicked.	"I'll fight him," a gruff voice said from the back of the crowd. A murmur arose and the crowd parted and the weathered fellow stepped forward. His hair was long and unkempt, his beard long past when it should have been trimmed and his face bore the scars of a thousand fights. "Hold your tongue, old man," the bald behemoth in the fighting pit taunted. Before him lay a pair of twins, identical in death as they had been in life, both their heads smashed in and their bodies strewn about haphazardly. "I'll hold yours," the older man responded. The crowd jeered and the giant of a man chuckled. His preferred weapon was a club; with it he crushed the flimsy wooden shields of his opponents or destroyed the swords they put up to block his momentous swings. "What were you, other than a fool?" the huge man asked as the two faced off. The crowd closed around them, ebbing and flowing as they stalked each other around the pit. "A knight loyal to the crown, once," the old knight responded. "And now?" "A mercenary. When I win and let you live, you'll enter my service." His opponent considered the offer for a second before laughing. "Deal. And when you die," he interrupted himself to spit on the ground between them, "I will piss on your body and let the crows eat it." "Deal," the old knight answered and he stepped back to avoid the swing of the club. He leaped in with uncanny agility, the first swing avoided, and with his sword nicked his huge opponent's arm as the man prepared a second swing. The man growled furiously that the first blood drawn was his own and he swung again. This time the club came faster but again the old knight moved faster and he jumped in behind the back-swing and sliced at the man's unprotected side. The crowd howled as the undisputed champion of the fighting pit suddenly seemed less invincible. "Again?" the old knight said but this time the giant man charged, seeking to tackle the swordsman and crush him with his bare hands. The old man was faster and he knelt to get below the oncoming arms and then the other man's leg was pouring blood and he was down on one knee, his weapon forgotten in the sand. He growled in pain and panted as he tried to catch his breath. "Enough?" the knight said and he held the sword to the man's throat. "Not quite," the crafty pit-fighter responded and he grabbed the sword and wrenched it from the old man's grasp as if it was nothing and tossed it aside. The crowd gasped and parents shielded their children's eyes as the giant man went in for the kill. And then he had a handful of sand in his eyes and his own club crushed against his stomach and he doubled over. "And now?" "I yield," the man begged as the sword found his neck again, this time pushing harder. "Who are you?" he cried as the crowd booed and threw sand and demanded a death. "John," the old knight responded. "John the Wicked." "John the Coward. Who escaped when his master decided his duty was death," the pit-fighter said in recognition. "John of the Wicked Legion," John corrected. "I want the best fighting men and I will get my revenge." He helped his newest recruit to his feet. What the legion would lack in numbers, it would make up for in notoriety as words of their accomplishments spread across the kingdoms. They would serve the highest bidder, so long as it wasn't the crown that John himself had once served, and they would bide their time until they had gathered the best men in the land. And then vengeance would be had. ***** Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated!	"Avast, Ye!" said the man in a raven black suit of flexible yet sturdy armour as he brought down his fist onto another man's skull. The man then twitched for a while before finally succumbing to death. As this occurred, another man with a crossbow shot a bolt right at the raven black knight. "... N-No!" The man with the crossbow yelled. The bolt he shot simply bounced off of the raven black knight's armour. The armour did not show any sign of damage, displaying the quality of its' make. With this, the knight rushed with impossible speed at the direction of the crossbowman. The crossbowman fell, unable to escape the knight's tight lock on his body. The crossbowman couldn't break free as his arms were rendered useless by the knight's crushing hug. The sound of muffled yet sharp crackling on his arms only made him struggle further. The crossbowman flailed his legs around, trying to kick the knight away. Seeing this, the knight simply released his hold and stood up. Before his victim could get away, he stomped down his feet at the man's head – crushing it and the thin metal cap attached on it. The knight then took the crossbow, reload it with a bolt by using an ingenious-looking device, and continued scanning the area to his front. With a smooth and agile movement, he shot a couple of men running in his direction. Luckily for him, the men who had come his way did not wear any significant armour. If they did, he could not have fight them on equal terms as he had no proper weapon on hand. After a brief skirmish with a group of men hiding behind a barrier – somehow killing them all – he ran out of bolts and took cover. He formulated a way to continue forth, looking for any weapon he could possibly use. Before he could find a suitable weapon, a loud metal clanking could be heard from a distance. The sound grew louder and more menacing as the one making it closed in on him. "Fee-fi-fo-fum!" the large, imposing man clad in a heavy shining armour shouted from a distance. The raven black knight stood up and opened his helmet, revealing to his face to his adversary. The knight in the shining armour gasped and took a step back upon this action. He then pointed to the raven black knight. "Thou art... John?!" the knight in shining armour said in a bewildered manner. "Aye! John, the Wicked, 'tis my name!" the raven black knight said whilst preparing himself for any incoming attack from his adversary. The knight in shining armour then brandished his large shield and sword. He then bowed to John, laughing as he did all these things. "'Tis an honour, then! Yare thineself!" the knight in shining armour said as he charged forth. However as he tried to swing his heavy sword onto John's shoulder, he missed his aim. Instead of dealing damage, the large knight felt pain in his leg. When he inspected the pain, he was surprised to see that John had lodged an arc-shaped wooden-object at his right thigh. The pain then erupted suddenly as he realised what had actually happened. Now, handicapped to one working leg, the knight in the shining armour limped across the room. Seeing that his strike worked as he intended, John then tackled his adversary right in his good leg. The knights fell and rolled on opposite direction. Before the large knight in shining armour could get up, he felt a sharp pain through his back. With this, he instantly succumbed to death and John repeatedly stab the large knight all across the gaps in his armour. John finally got up and wiped the bloodied heavy blade down. He then took a few bolts from some corpses of the men he'd killed earlier. With the sword in one hand and the loaded crossbow on the other, he continued on his merry way – one full of murder and carnage, to be sure.
	[WP] They killed his hound and stolen his horse. With nothing left, a knight comes out of retirement, a man named John, the Wicked.	The man fell to the ground, hand clutching his face as blood spilled from between his fingers. His eyes were wide from shock and pain, staring up at the man who had laid him low. “What was that for?” he gasped, spitting blood onto the ground. “You said we could take what we want from the region. I thought if I could take from the townsfolk then an old man in the woods would be fair game-“ He fell back again, moaning in pain from the kick to his stomach. The standing man glared down. “You thought? I see no signs of you thinking.” His face was contorted from rage and something no one else had seen before: fear. “If you were thinking, you would have listened to me. If you were thinking, you would have just taken from the town and villages, were the easy pickings are and that we had a right to. But no, you went into the woods because you saw a horse you liked and wanted it. You just had to take that horse.” He pointed at the black horse, standing almost placidly in the corner stable. It was a magnificent animal, obviously well taken care of. The hair of the horse shone in the lantern light, almost luxurious like sable. The long mane fell like water down the muscled neck. Large eyes looked at the men with uncanny intelligence and it seemed to delight in the fallen man’s pain. “That horse, out of so many in the whole region. So what did you do? You went after it you stupid-“ The man raised his leg to stomp down before another hurriedly waved him back. “Sir, please. We did it as a gift to you!” The younger man recoiled as he became the target, the half truth withering on his lips. “No really, we thought you would look grand on such a horse. So we figured we would give it to you after we rode him for a bit. Honest.” The others looked confused. They had thought their Boss would look pleased to own such a horse. Anyone with eyes could tell that the horse was one of a kind. Dense corded muscles spoke of staying power and high speed, eyes bright that saw and thought. Instead of praise they had received hurled venom and they could not understand why. “What did you do to the man that owned the horse?” the Boss asked, fear tainting his words. “We....we beat him up and left him at his cottage.” “Is that all?” The man on the floor climbed slowly to his feet. “Well, the man’s hound bit Reynolds so Reynolds killed it.” He flailed, almost falling as the Boss came at him with a raised fist. “I didn’t kill the beast, Reynolds did! By the Gods, what has you so bothered Boss?! It was just an old man. So what if we stole his horse and killed his hound. He isn’t going to do anything.” The Boss seemed to deflate, visibly aging in front of their eyes. He stalked over to his desk and sat, pulling out a bottle of dark spirits. His teeth sunk into the cork and he tore it out with a jerk of his head, spitting the cork aside and taking a long drink. “Because, of all the people you could harass, you idiots picked the worst one.” “He’s just one man,” one of the others said mockingly. “And old, since when are you afraid of an old man?” “I am afraid of no old men.” Another long drink. “I am afraid of one old knight.” “So what if he is a knight. So are we.” The Boss shook his head. “Not like him. Not like John Wicked.” Everyone paused at that name. The lanterns seemed to flicker when the name rolled into the air. Some of the older men held their breath while the younger ones had a momentary flash of doubt. Their consternation rose higher when the horse neighed loudly at the name, the first sound it had made since it arrived. “John...Wicked? As in Jon the Wicked? He must be dead, died of his wounds years ago,” whispered a man. “John the Wicked was a myth, a joke. Just the overblown tales of a has been knight,” replied another scathingly. “We have nothing to fear.” Everyone jumped as the Boss hurled the bottle. The glass shattered into thousands of shards. “We have EVERYTHING to fear!” he bellowed. “You all think he is a myth? A has been? You know nothing! I have seen him fight, he is no man, he is a devil! I was at the Fields of Rain, the Bellthorne Massacres, the Burning Sands.” His eyes lost focus, staring into yesterday. “Wicked is his true name, not one we gave him. He is the Undying, he cannot be felled. I have seen him kill so many other knights. Even when he was alone, no matter what weapon, he would prevail. I saw him kill an oliphant with a dagger, a bloody dagger against a giant monster.” Now the others grew nervous. They knew their Boss to be practical, rarely giving into boasting or tales. Yet he stood before them, face covered with despair and still as stone. The first man recoiled again as haunted eyes rested on him. “He took his well deserved retirement, retired to a cottage he and his late wife lived at. And you went to steal his horse and killed his hound. The last hound his wife ever raised.” “We-we-we....we can take him out. He’s old now and we can do it. We’re the best knights in the region.” The man looked around, his boast dying in the air as no one else shared his false enthusiasm. “Have you been listening? We cannot kill him! Wait...where is Reynolds?” The boss glared and the men shrugged. “He went back to the cottage, saying something about claiming the hound’s teeth as weregeld...” All eyes turned to the door as it shook. Something was bodily kicking it, once, twice. Finally a man opened it and a lone tawny horse cantered in. The was no rider in the saddle, and the sides of the horse was coated in a familiar red fluid. A sword was tied to the pack and one of the men pulled it free. “This is Reynold’s sword. He wouldn’t just let it go, and there isn’t any blood on it.” “That’s his message,” the Boss said woodenly. “He wants us to take the sword. He wants us to know that he isn’t injured and that we will need every sword we can get. He’s coming.” The black horse threw his head back and neighed, a loud noise that shook the air and it sounded like laughter heralding something dark.	"Avast, Ye!" said the man in a raven black suit of flexible yet sturdy armour as he brought down his fist onto another man's skull. The man then twitched for a while before finally succumbing to death. As this occurred, another man with a crossbow shot a bolt right at the raven black knight. "... N-No!" The man with the crossbow yelled. The bolt he shot simply bounced off of the raven black knight's armour. The armour did not show any sign of damage, displaying the quality of its' make. With this, the knight rushed with impossible speed at the direction of the crossbowman. The crossbowman fell, unable to escape the knight's tight lock on his body. The crossbowman couldn't break free as his arms were rendered useless by the knight's crushing hug. The sound of muffled yet sharp crackling on his arms only made him struggle further. The crossbowman flailed his legs around, trying to kick the knight away. Seeing this, the knight simply released his hold and stood up. Before his victim could get away, he stomped down his feet at the man's head – crushing it and the thin metal cap attached on it. The knight then took the crossbow, reload it with a bolt by using an ingenious-looking device, and continued scanning the area to his front. With a smooth and agile movement, he shot a couple of men running in his direction. Luckily for him, the men who had come his way did not wear any significant armour. If they did, he could not have fight them on equal terms as he had no proper weapon on hand. After a brief skirmish with a group of men hiding behind a barrier – somehow killing them all – he ran out of bolts and took cover. He formulated a way to continue forth, looking for any weapon he could possibly use. Before he could find a suitable weapon, a loud metal clanking could be heard from a distance. The sound grew louder and more menacing as the one making it closed in on him. "Fee-fi-fo-fum!" the large, imposing man clad in a heavy shining armour shouted from a distance. The raven black knight stood up and opened his helmet, revealing to his face to his adversary. The knight in the shining armour gasped and took a step back upon this action. He then pointed to the raven black knight. "Thou art... John?!" the knight in shining armour said in a bewildered manner. "Aye! John, the Wicked, 'tis my name!" the raven black knight said whilst preparing himself for any incoming attack from his adversary. The knight in shining armour then brandished his large shield and sword. He then bowed to John, laughing as he did all these things. "'Tis an honour, then! Yare thineself!" the knight in shining armour said as he charged forth. However as he tried to swing his heavy sword onto John's shoulder, he missed his aim. Instead of dealing damage, the large knight felt pain in his leg. When he inspected the pain, he was surprised to see that John had lodged an arc-shaped wooden-object at his right thigh. The pain then erupted suddenly as he realised what had actually happened. Now, handicapped to one working leg, the knight in the shining armour limped across the room. Seeing that his strike worked as he intended, John then tackled his adversary right in his good leg. The knights fell and rolled on opposite direction. Before the large knight in shining armour could get up, he felt a sharp pain through his back. With this, he instantly succumbed to death and John repeatedly stab the large knight all across the gaps in his armour. John finally got up and wiped the bloodied heavy blade down. He then took a few bolts from some corpses of the men he'd killed earlier. With the sword in one hand and the loaded crossbow on the other, he continued on his merry way – one full of murder and carnage, to be sure.
	[WP] When a person dies, they are never forcibly removed from their bodies, Death just offers them a warm invitation to the afterlife. Most accept on the first or second attempt. You've just declined Death for the 5th time, and Death is starting to grow worried.	“Again?” His pearlescent jaw twitched for a second before answering. “It’s out of my control, Jackson. You know, if you just came with me, I’d never have to ask again.” I pondered for a second. It has a point. This whole process does get rather infuriating, seeing my grandparents waltzing off to heaven without me. I sit in silence for a second, and watch Death begin to show a ghastly grin, it thinks it has me. It thinks it’s finally won. And this reminds me exactly why Death can never win. “Get out of my head, you cheater! You do that one more time, and I’m telling life you breached the contract!” Death’s bones rattled in shock, and a familiar glow lit up my back with warmth and comfort and all things worth living for. “Somebody called?” It was Life. Gorgeous, precious Life. The Life who fought to keep me from the skeletal trickster, the Life who kept me safe and shielded my mind. I turned to face her, and, for the 6th time, was overwhelmed by her aureate magnificence. “It was just the breeze, wasn’t it Death?” He finally took the hint, and descended his grim staircase, scowling and muttering to himself as he left. “That bloody child, doesn’t know when to stop.” His voice grew quieter every second until the Gate closed, and Death was gone. I turned to Life, disappointment shining through my mask of nonchalance. Naturally, she noticed. “I know it’s hard, Jackson. I know he brings you pain. But he only has four attempts remaining, and then you’re free! You’re so close to being free of this curse! 10 Declinations and you become one of us. Imagine it Jackson, Life, Death, and Determination. Fight the temptation Jackson, how good can the afterlife be compared to all the joy I can bring you?” She was right. The contract was signed long before I was born, and Death had to accept that eventually, I would become one of them. My heart soul, and every essence of myself is set upon it. I am Determined.	His skeletal fingers slid gradually around the neck, gripping it tight. Hunched over he didn't seem as tall as he had before, yet his fingers were disturbingly long. Henry felt like he noticed Death's fingers cave in the creature's chest. Squeak! "You really think I'd be tempted by a stuffed animal?" said Ben, rolling his eyes. "But Benjamin," death replied with a voice like coarse, grinding stones, "It is delightful." Henry sighed,"Be tha-" Squeak! "t as it m-" Squeak! Squeak! " I was s-" Squeak! Squeak! "Sto" Squeak! Squeak! Squeak! "STOP IT" Henry cried. Death locked his eyes on Henry - or whatever those holes radiating blue light were supposed to be. Squeak! Henry stomped over, "Gimme that!" he cried, ripping the green toy hippo out of Death's hands. The skeleton straightened-up, loosing the earlier hunch, looking down on Henry from his full 7 feet length. "The deal is struck," its voice declared, "Best be on your way." The incarnation of death dropped its jaw half an inch - its best attempt at a smile.
	[WP] When a person dies, they are never forcibly removed from their bodies, Death just offers them a warm invitation to the afterlife. Most accept on the first or second attempt. You've just declined Death for the 5th time, and Death is starting to grow worried.	"You know...we can't do this forever." "Oh?" I sit up a little on the couch, and pull my ankle up onto my knee. That's better. "Why not?" The gaunt figure on my easy chair rubs its temples, and loose, papery skin wrinkles up on its skull. "Because. You're dead." I nod. "Oh, I'm aware. It's funny, you know how they say, 'you never know what you have until it's gone'? Turns out that's true of heartbeats." "Let me go over this one more time," it says, and even though it is Death, and it's as old as the universe, it seems almost...hesitant. "You have a soul, and you have a body. That body doesn't work anymore. It's not an ideal or even useful receptacle for your soul anymore. You have to leave it." "Yeah, yeah, you said that, you said that." Now I'm the one getting impatient. "And as you'll recall, I said, 'If I have to leave my body, why don't you just take my soul out, instead of asking me to do it?' But you haven't answered that. And, you know, this is arguably the most important decision of my life, here." I raise my hands and drop them with a slap onto my thighs. "How'm I supposed to make that decision if I don't know all my options?" "There are no options," Death lies. "You just -- you get out. Okay?" It chuckles nervously. "You get out of your body, and you come to the afterworld." "Yeaaaaaahh, no, there's something you're not telling me, here." Oddly, my head itches; who'd'a thunk it? I scratch the spot, just behind my right ear. "It doesn't add up. If you're inviting me, that means there's a choice. I mean, who would want to hang around in a body that's rotting, right? So that's not a real choice, and that means one of two things: either, A, you're hiding some other choice from me, like a secret menu item at McDonald's; or B..." I lean forward, with challenge in my eyes. "You've got nothing better to do." And right then in that second, Death swallows. "Screw it!" Death rockets out of my easy chair, which scares the cat, and flings its skeletal arms over its head ."I'm done with this! I'm -- there's no reason for me! I'm just Time's cousin, given a job to keep me busy and to make me feel useful! There, now you know." "Well, hell, man," I say, "now I feel kinda sorry for you. Billions of years, doing a pity job...? That's gotta suck." "It -- " Death buries its face in its claws. "I can't do this anymore. I'm so -- it -- I --" "Hang on, buddy." I leverage myself into a standing position. "I think I've got an idea. "You don't wanna do this anymore, and I don't wanna die. Right?" "Looks that way, yeah." "So." I poke Death in the arm. "Is your position transferable...?" Suddenly, I'm the only person in history who's ever been happy to see Death grinning at him.	His skeletal fingers slid gradually around the neck, gripping it tight. Hunched over he didn't seem as tall as he had before, yet his fingers were disturbingly long. Henry felt like he noticed Death's fingers cave in the creature's chest. Squeak! "You really think I'd be tempted by a stuffed animal?" said Ben, rolling his eyes. "But Benjamin," death replied with a voice like coarse, grinding stones, "It is delightful." Henry sighed,"Be tha-" Squeak! "t as it m-" Squeak! Squeak! " I was s-" Squeak! Squeak! "Sto" Squeak! Squeak! Squeak! "STOP IT" Henry cried. Death locked his eyes on Henry - or whatever those holes radiating blue light were supposed to be. Squeak! Henry stomped over, "Gimme that!" he cried, ripping the green toy hippo out of Death's hands. The skeleton straightened-up, loosing the earlier hunch, looking down on Henry from his full 7 feet length. "The deal is struck," its voice declared, "Best be on your way." The incarnation of death dropped its jaw half an inch - its best attempt at a smile.
	[WP] A man stands at a crossroad, talking to a demon. The demon hands the man a guitar and says, "thanks for that, but things didn't exactly turn out how I planned" and turns to leave. The man clears his throat. "You have my sympathies... but we had a deal."	&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The horned beast towered three feet above me. His hand gingerly gripped the lustrous neck of the guitar that looked like a toothpick when compared with the size of his arms. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Thanks for that, but things didn’t exactly turn out how I planned.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It turned its back to me, tail swatting me as it spun. Its hooves clopped against the asphalt as it walked away. They were the only sound shattering the silence of this cool desert night. I let it get only a few steps in before raising my voice. I knew it could snap me in half, vaporize me, or bludgeon me to soup, but I cleared my throat, hardened myself, and command confidence in my voice. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You have my sympathies… but we had a deal.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The demon paused. Its tail flicked through the air. It huffed in consternation then turned to me. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I can’t go back down that road with you. I’m a demon. It’s not my nature.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Even nature changes.” I said without skipping a beat. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Some nature is immutable.” It replied. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You’re a fallen angel, so even you must know God can transmute the immutable.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The demon lowered its head, pondering our deal as I knew it would. It had been years since that rainy day where it found me in the gutter coked out of my mind. I had planned it all from the beginning of course. It may not have been holy, but the devil deals in trickery all the time. What harm if a believer does too for a good cause? &nbsp;&nbsp;I knew demons had great power, but I was still shocked when I found that pristine guitar in the trash. I was amazed as the bar owner let me play when I reeked as bad as the refuse I found it in. It was all uphill from there. I did enjoy it for a long time. Sin is pleasurable in many ways that’s why it’s tempting, but it was all part of the greater plan. My body was wrecked by drugs, and I no longer even tried to remember the groupies I laid with. It would all be worth it though. If I, a lowly man could redeem a demon, what would it mean for my soul? &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It had never suspected how carefully I planned the overdose. It never thought my will could be so strong. Once I completely reformed and started to sing the gospel, most celebrities would be ruined as their fans grew apathetic, but I continued to ascend even as it inhabited my body, just as we agreed. It was a benefit that I gave the gospel to millions, but it still was only part of my main mission. Zibadel became the laughing stock of the other demons. I met several them through our journeys, but I could never help any of them. Now, ostracized by both heaven and hell, Zibadel only had me, and I believed in him. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“The Lord came not for the saved but the sinner you must know.” I said. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Sinners. Not demons.” It snarled back. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I have faith if you do. I know you feel alone, and you feel that you cannot keep our deal because it has alienated you from hell. If you give it a chance though, I believe you will be surprised. You can stay with me, or I know of a lake just down the other road. Either way, I can’t let you walk away from our deal, and I know your nature won’t let you either.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;We stood there for minutes in silence as the wind wafted dust across the road. I knew it wasn’t an easy decision, so I was willing to give it all the time it needed. It blew fire from its nostrils before lifting its head to me and flashing me its familiar grin of serrated teeth. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Maybe some nature can change.” It said. >As always any and all feedback and criticism are welcomed. If you liked this, consider looking at my other works on r/reconwrites	Beleth froze, shoulders raised and hunched. "What did you say?" the demon mumbled as it turned around slowly. The musician spread out his arms, the guitar strap dipping across his shoulder. "We. Had. A. Deal," he repeated nonchalantly. "I honored my end," the musician said with a pause. He stood in silence for a moment before tilting his head and crossing his arms, "you're not considering breaking your end of our bargain, are you?" They stood there both, at the edge of this beaten path, the only sound the sea behind them before the demon broke the silence. "You don't honestly expect me to-" it started. "Oh, rest assured I intend to claim what's mine," the musician said, cutting him off. "They have rules, Beleth," the musician spat, "Or do you think yourself above them, no longer bound by the creed that governs your kind?" At the mention of its name, the demon began to morph, shedding its mortal vesting and contorting into its named form as the musician watched on impassively. "You presume much, boy," the demon snarled, its voice a low, quiet boom. "I presume nothing," he replied. "You know not what you lust for," Beleth said, its voice growing louder as it heaved itself towards the musician. "I seek only what is mine." "Your arrogance will end you!" "I WILL TAKE BACK WHAT WAS TAKEN FROM ME!" the musician screamed, startling both himself and Beleth. The sound of the slow crashing of waves enveloped them both yet again as they stood face to face, neither one saying a word to the other. "Bound by the rules...aye, I am," Beleth said slowly, breaking the silence,"but you would do well to check yourself, before-" "Before what?" the musician interrupted quietly, eyes cast downwards and brow furrowed, "I have nothing left to lose." Beleth stared down at the sad man standing before him, shoulders hunched under the weight of his burden. "There's always something more to lose..." he mumbled. The man looked up, eyes meeting Beleth's, and for a moment he thought to himself that they looked almost human, but maybe that was just himself he was seeing reflected. "Just give me what I ask, Beleth. Please." Beleth stared him in the eyes for a good long while, then let out a sigh and looked to the sea, which had fallen silent. He was bound to serve, and serve he would. He looked back at the man before him, shook his head once, then disappeared. Left in his place, was a small, solitary wisp. And silence.
	[WP] The Aztec priest stares at you in confusion as you stand up while he holds your still-beating heart.	He looked at me in shock. Honestly I can't blame him, he just took a vital organ out of me and I stood up and looked him in the face. He started freaking out and blathering about something. Honestly I couldn't tell you what. I don't speak Aztec or what ever, but as I walk towards him I grabbed my "Heart" and walked away. Crazy part was the people started bowing to me. They must have thought I was a god or something. As i put the heart prop back into my "Chest" and walked down the pyramid I had a quick laugh to myself. Time traveling was pretty great. Especially when you have realistic fake body to protect you. It had everything. Heart, Lungs, instantiates, everything. They were right when they said it was a must for every time traveling adventurer. Next stop was the the last supper. I had reservations under the name "Judas", this should be fun.	“My liege!” The priest proclaims. The gap in my stomach stings, but it should grow back in the morning. I grab the heart from the trembling cleric’s hands and rip it in twain. My brother smiles approvingly. “Tonight we feast, cavort, and make merry!” I proclaim to the crowd gathered. Cheers echoed throughout the square. Food and drink is brought out from the stores. “What now?” I ask my brother. “What you said. ‘Feast, cavort, and make merry.’” “But that’s not what Julian-“ “Julian only wants to juice the aztecs for all they’re worth in gold and relics.” “I’m perfectly aware what he wants, and he’s not going to leave with it all alive. I make a vague prophecy, get in the pod, and return in a few hundred years. By then, he’ll be too weak to put up any fight. Trust me on this; I made the thing that made us this way. Should everything go smoothly, he won’t be walking until Columbus sails the ocean blue,”
	[WP] The Aztec priest stares at you in confusion as you stand up while he holds your still-beating heart.	He looked at me in shock. Honestly I can't blame him, he just took a vital organ out of me and I stood up and looked him in the face. He started freaking out and blathering about something. Honestly I couldn't tell you what. I don't speak Aztec or what ever, but as I walk towards him I grabbed my "Heart" and walked away. Crazy part was the people started bowing to me. They must have thought I was a god or something. As i put the heart prop back into my "Chest" and walked down the pyramid I had a quick laugh to myself. Time traveling was pretty great. Especially when you have realistic fake body to protect you. It had everything. Heart, Lungs, instantiates, everything. They were right when they said it was a must for every time traveling adventurer. Next stop was the the last supper. I had reservations under the name "Judas", this should be fun.	I flooted up from the pedestal in my deepest loudest voice I shouted "Fool Mictlantecuhtli does not call for me, Oden calls for you." I changed the priest and shoulder checked him from the ziggurat. As he tumbled down the stairs the look of horror and confusion was drained away and replaced with pain. The priest lay in a crumbled mess at the bottom. His may followers stood around in shock. "Let this be a lesson to you others." I say as I turn to the priest that had yet to run away. "I demand a good death. I'll leave this world as I entered it screaming and covered in someone else's blood." With that I charged the other priests. I had been working on teleportation for so long. I had stories ancient lands and cultures for so long who would have thought it could all go so wrong.
	[WP] The Aztec priest stares at you in confusion as you stand up while he holds your still-beating heart.	The light has gone from my eyes. I do not see the crowd of onlookers, ecstatic at the sight of my demise. I am fading. But I know what comes next. The priest, standing above a dying man, holds a still-beating heart in one hand, and the obsidian blade which tore it free in the other. He does not understand. Maybe he thinks of the man whose heart he had taken. He thinks of that man's people, slaughtered in the name of a cruel and unjust god. Maybe he remembers the sight of the villages burning, the sounds of children crying, the smell of smoke hanging heavy in the air. But certainly, he is thinking about how the heart in his hand, and the heart in his own chest are beating in unison. And he does not understand. Maybe he wonders why the last stand of men from the deep jungle tribes fell so easily, unlike hard-fought battles prior. Maybe faint memories whisper of the tribe's old gods, and their secret rituals unknown even to the wisest scholar in the Empire. Undoubtedly, he feels the heart beat stronger in his hand, sees veins sprout forth like vines along his arm. He must realize he cannot let go. But still he does not understand. Perhaps he looks around, seeing the same fate befall his brethren atop the other altars. By now, he must feel fear. Maybe the terror shakes loose a memory. A story told countless times of those who tried to take the jungle for their own, to command its sacred power. Depending on who tells it, maybe the story in his mind has the correct ending. That the people of the jungle will do anything to protect their home. That they will perform dark rites and make unspeakable pacts with their gods. That these gods, old and ugly in spirit, know only vengeance and retribution. He does not understand. As the tendrils burrow deep into his arm, he must finally see. That these desperate, hopeless men turned their lives and souls over to primeval forces, that they could save what remained of their people. That these soldiers were destined not to repel invaders through battle, but through plague. That they made themselves bait, carrying hidden poison in their very own veins. As his vision fades, he sees his arm, no longer his own, lift the blade. He turns to the crowd. He will not see his cities burning. He will not hear the cries of his own children. He will not smell the putrid smoke. But he will understand.	I flooted up from the pedestal in my deepest loudest voice I shouted "Fool Mictlantecuhtli does not call for me, Oden calls for you." I changed the priest and shoulder checked him from the ziggurat. As he tumbled down the stairs the look of horror and confusion was drained away and replaced with pain. The priest lay in a crumbled mess at the bottom. His may followers stood around in shock. "Let this be a lesson to you others." I say as I turn to the priest that had yet to run away. "I demand a good death. I'll leave this world as I entered it screaming and covered in someone else's blood." With that I charged the other priests. I had been working on teleportation for so long. I had stories ancient lands and cultures for so long who would have thought it could all go so wrong.
	[WP] You are the Jolly Reaper. You reap the souls of people who have died hilarious deaths and try to convince the departed that their passing wasn't so grim.	Tom looked at his surroundings, a complete Void that engulfs his vision - save for the robed figure infront of him. Me. He looked at me and said, "When I dived into a mountain of turd, I didn't think I'd be meeting with Death straight afterwards" I couldn't help but chuckle, "You know, in that one video game... Creed of Assassins I think? He jumped into a pile of hay, right?" Tom looked down at the non-existent ground, "Probably would've hurt more if I jumped from two stories high into that instead, really". He tried to reach for his wallet, which wasn't there. "Don't worry, I got you", I said as I materialised a picture into his hand. He longingly stared at the picture for what seemed like an hour. I usually don't let Souls wait in transition that long, but I felt for this guy. Must have been a lot to take in. "We had so many plans... I wanted to give her the best life. I'm so angry at my brothers for making me go ahead with this at my bucks night!" At this point, we both heard a riotous laughter from behind Tom. He looked back and saw his twin brother, "Tim?!" Tim didn't stop, so I had to explain it to Tom, "if it makes you feel any better, Tim literally died from laughter". Tom let a smile slip for a bit, "You died too, huh? I knew you wouldn't let me go alone" "You can't make this stuff up! We thought you were knocked out cold!" Tim chuckled, diling down the laughter. He continued, "We put it up on the internet, it's gone viral. No one knows that you actually died. I couldn't stop laughing, the front half of your body was covered in turd with the silliest face!" Tom put his arm around Tim and began to chuckle, now was the opportune time. I begin to wave my hands in repetitive motions, then the Void around us began to fill with mirrors that displayed hundreds & thousands of people. All these people are going through a really rough time in their lives, silently staring at nothing, some silently crying - as they scroll through their mobiles & computer internet browsers. Tom and Tim won't know this, but I know these people personally, as they constantly beckon for me to take them. Tom inquired, "what's going on?" "Shhh, just watch", I reply as I finish wavering my skeletal hands. A few chuckles begin to trickle in like rain, then a cacophany of laughter. Tears of Sorrow turned into Tears of Laughter - as people see this clip of Tom dropping flat onto a pile of turd like a starfish. For a while, there were no words from those two. They just stood there, observing what was happening. There were a few Tears from them, before they finally hugged and both looked at me with acceptance. "That's enough", Tom whispered. I wavered my hands and the Mirrors slowly disappeared into the Void, the laughter ending like the remnant pitter patters of a rain shower. I reveal the Door to them with a gesture. Before I could utter the words, "when you're ready" - they both walked through, Tom's arm still around Tim.	A fine day alone at my desk, a cup of unstirred tea clumping in my mouth. My hands whimsied across the keyboard of my old, barely working and hardly passable computer, the outside air was almost scorching. Then again, I work in hell. What do you expect? With another chunky sip, almost gagging at how awful the taste of that tea was, a sudden notification alerted me, a call from my boss. The D Man himself, Lucifer. “Hello?” There was a brief pause, “Yeah. Hey Jolly. We’ve got a death on our hands. You... should see this one yourself. It’s hilarious.” He hangs up the phone and I make my way over to my coat hanger, where my yellow cloak lay haphazardly from the hanger. I quickly toss it on and make my way down the hallway to the Hellevator, passing other offices on the way down. “The Grim Reaper” Classic. He always gets employee of the month. “The Neighbor-across-the-street-that-you-really-didn’t-like-all-that-much Reaper” Eh, he’s a little strange. “The Anti-V--“ Oh. Interrupting my browsing of the office doors I was greeted by the elevator doors opening. Three reapers clambered out. I trotted my way in and hit the “surface level” button. After my arrival on the surface I’m greeted by a rather strange sight. A man—About 30 or maybe 40 years old—had slipped on a banana peel down the stairs; where he had hit his head through the wall and was now only visible from the chest down. I laughed for a second until soon, the spirit of the sad fool came wandering out. His snotty nose waving in every direction. “Ohh!! The horror!! I have lost my life, oh so much worth living!” My hand slapped across my forehead. Another one of the dramatics. “Oh, sir! You have to help me! I’ve d- d- d- AAAAAAHHH” he screamed in an impossibly piercing tone. “You’re the grim reaper!!” I looked at him with a frown “I’m the jolly reaper.” “The what?” “Never mind.” Tears poured down his cheeks. “What’s my precious kitty gonna think?! Now nobody will ever take care of her!” He snorted more into his handkerchief—do people even use those anymore?—I smiled at the guy reassuringly. “Well, at least you went out hilariously.” He looked at me. “-And there’s plenty of fraud YouTube channels that would totally take your cat. And maybe put it in a barrel and slide it down a mountain or two, but it’s content, whatever.” My consolation obviously had no effect. It was followed by more wails and shrieks about his precious little sugar plum. Suddenly another notification appeared on my phone. Once again from the boss. “Hey check this out. I got hold of the death tape of that guy you’re dealing with. It’s GOLDEN.” Below the text was a video, a video of this man tumbling down the stairs with a banana half slimed to his foot crashing into his wall. He was right. It was golden. The man poked his head into my phone and took a look at the video himself. ... There was silence. Silence until eventually, he started giggling. And soon I was laughing too. We were both howling, and I suppose my job was done. Now I want my pay check.
	[WP] You are the Jolly Reaper. You reap the souls of people who have died hilarious deaths and try to convince the departed that their passing wasn't so grim.	Tom looked at his surroundings, a complete Void that engulfs his vision - save for the robed figure infront of him. Me. He looked at me and said, "When I dived into a mountain of turd, I didn't think I'd be meeting with Death straight afterwards" I couldn't help but chuckle, "You know, in that one video game... Creed of Assassins I think? He jumped into a pile of hay, right?" Tom looked down at the non-existent ground, "Probably would've hurt more if I jumped from two stories high into that instead, really". He tried to reach for his wallet, which wasn't there. "Don't worry, I got you", I said as I materialised a picture into his hand. He longingly stared at the picture for what seemed like an hour. I usually don't let Souls wait in transition that long, but I felt for this guy. Must have been a lot to take in. "We had so many plans... I wanted to give her the best life. I'm so angry at my brothers for making me go ahead with this at my bucks night!" At this point, we both heard a riotous laughter from behind Tom. He looked back and saw his twin brother, "Tim?!" Tim didn't stop, so I had to explain it to Tom, "if it makes you feel any better, Tim literally died from laughter". Tom let a smile slip for a bit, "You died too, huh? I knew you wouldn't let me go alone" "You can't make this stuff up! We thought you were knocked out cold!" Tim chuckled, diling down the laughter. He continued, "We put it up on the internet, it's gone viral. No one knows that you actually died. I couldn't stop laughing, the front half of your body was covered in turd with the silliest face!" Tom put his arm around Tim and began to chuckle, now was the opportune time. I begin to wave my hands in repetitive motions, then the Void around us began to fill with mirrors that displayed hundreds & thousands of people. All these people are going through a really rough time in their lives, silently staring at nothing, some silently crying - as they scroll through their mobiles & computer internet browsers. Tom and Tim won't know this, but I know these people personally, as they constantly beckon for me to take them. Tom inquired, "what's going on?" "Shhh, just watch", I reply as I finish wavering my skeletal hands. A few chuckles begin to trickle in like rain, then a cacophany of laughter. Tears of Sorrow turned into Tears of Laughter - as people see this clip of Tom dropping flat onto a pile of turd like a starfish. For a while, there were no words from those two. They just stood there, observing what was happening. There were a few Tears from them, before they finally hugged and both looked at me with acceptance. "That's enough", Tom whispered. I wavered my hands and the Mirrors slowly disappeared into the Void, the laughter ending like the remnant pitter patters of a rain shower. I reveal the Door to them with a gesture. Before I could utter the words, "when you're ready" - they both walked through, Tom's arm still around Tim.	[Poem] You tripped on a peel and cracked your head! You smashed, and crashed, And now you've wound up dead. Don't worry though, you're not alone, In this place, there's a dozen case, Of people who died on the throne, Old lady Mary choked on candy, Bill died by piano, Stu died while commando, Susan got hit by a frisbee, standing. Peter got trampled by a dozen pigs, Ben,a fly in his brain, oh that was just a shame, Claire fell from great height, they should secure those rigs. Clarence over on fifth? He died from a fallen tree, Why was it funny? I'll tell you sonny, That poplar was only as tall as me. So my friend, you can plainly tell, The place of folk, is one big joke, So we call it funny hell.
	[WP] Gifted with the ability to hear people’s thoughts, you’ve made it a habit to scan people for lies and secrets. When one person comes off as a bit odd, you use your ability, only to be greeted by complete silence.	Reading minds was like entering a room inside the person's brain. I would see what occupied them in every corner, on the walls, in the decorations. And they were there, telling me everything on their mind in that moment. I'd know everything, often more than I'd like. This room was empty. Devoid of furniture, of decoration, of color. Only four white walls and a door. And she wasn't even there. Something was clearly wrong. I turned to open the door and leave. There was a note stuck to the door. PRIVATE!! I left, and I was back in the bar. She smiled at me. "Sorry, what was that?" I shook my head, struggling to regain my composure after what just happened. I'd never been unable to read a person's mind. It was a comforting thing to fall back on when I couldn't read someone's expression. And sure, it was a little unethical, but it didn't really hurt anyone. I was mostly protecting myself. This? This left me unsettled, a chill running down my back. I didn't know what to expect. Did she know I'd tried to read her mind? How had she stopped me? "I said you should come with me to the stage. This band is really good." She gestured to the stage and patted my shoulder as she started in that direction. "Don't overthink it, it's just a show." I overthought it the whole time, even as I followed her and stared between her and the band. What was going on with her? Who was she to be able to hide her thoughts from me? Against my better judgment, I tried again. The room was still empty, the same four white walls. I didn't know what I expected; maybe it had been a blip in the system, maybe I was distracted by how she made me feel. I turned back to the door. There was a different note on it. You won't find anything in here, hon What the fuck? I left again, and now I didn't even try not to stare at her. What was her deal? She looked at me and sighed. "Okay, come on." I barely heard her over the music. She held my wrist loosely as she tugged me after her through the crowd, out of the bar. "What's the matter? Never met anyone who could shield their mind before?" She pulled her jacket tighter around her. Instinctively, I felt chilly as well. "I didn't know there were others who could read minds." She smiled wryly. "Oh, honey. You've been lucky. It's no fun having people poke around in your head, okay? That's why I do it. A little privacy in my own brain." "I'm- I'm sorry. I got nervous, and when I get nervous I try to understand what people want, and I-- I read their minds." I was rambling, wasn't I? I was still a little shook up by this. "Are you able to control it?" "Why? Want a peek?" She scoffed. "Of course I can. I put up the barrier myself, I can take it down." With a little teasing smile, she nudged me. "If you get lucky... maybe I'll let you take a look sometime. A quick one. But isn't it more interesting to find out what I want by yourself?" That sounded like an invitation. Maybe not to read her mind, but to something better.	My name is Ken. I'm a 17 year old high school student. I have no friends, never had one, probably because I'm quiet and not very social. My mother died a few years ago in an accident. I have no siblings. My father works a lot and often goes on business trips. Which means that usually I'm completely alone. It's 12:16 pm, Saturday. I just returned from the library where I returned a book. On the way back home I bought sandwich, which I'm eating right now while sitting on a bench in a small park. In front of me, probably 15 meters away from me, was a girl, probably my age, also sitting on a bench. She had medium long brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a beautiful face. Seems like a kind, innocent, quiet type. The kind of type I like. Something seemed off though. She was just... sitting there. Not eating a sandwich like me. Not staring at her phone. Not talking to anyone. Judging from the fact that she hasn't looked around her once in the past 5 minutes, she doesn't seem to be waiting for anyone. She's just silently staring at the ground or in front of her, with a very empty gaze. I have a secret power, which I call Scanning, which I can use to scan people's thoughts. I don't use it very often though as other people don't interest me that much, but it's useful when trying to find out when people are telling lies or holding back secrets. I'm really curious on what's going on with this girl though. Did she run away from home, or even get kicked out? Did she get lost and is too shy to ask for directions? I'm curious. I try to scan her thoughts but... I don't hear anything. Huh? I concentrate harder but... I get greeted by complete silence. This has never happened before. Even when people try to not think of anything, there's usually at least some background noise, since it's hard to completely shut down your consciousness. But right now there's absolutely nothing. Her mind feels like am empty void... like there's nothing there. I don't know why. I finish my last bite of my sandwich, stand up and start walking towards her. She doesn't even notice me until I'm standing right in front of her. She's too busy gazing off into the distance. "Hey, uhm... Are you alright? Is something wrong?", I asked. I hope she doesn't think I'm weird or annoying. "Huh?" "Sorry, I... I just noticed you sitting here and got worried. Are you lost?" "...No. At least, I don't think so... I don't know." Her voice was soft but soothing. "You... don't know? What do you mean?" "I don't remember why I came here, or what I'm doing here. I don't know where I am, but don't know where I was going either..." Memory loss? "Do you remember your name?" "Uhm... Lily. I think my name was Lily." "My name is Ken, nice to meet you. Do you mind if I sit down?", I say, while pointing next to her at the bench. She shakes her head, so I sit down next to her. "Do you remember where you live?" "No." "Do you have a phone on you?" "No." "Do you remember your family?" "No." "What school you go to?" "No..." Her voice started to sound sadder with every answer. While she answers my questions I Scan her thoughts, but her mind is still completely empty. "Your favorite food?" She suddenly turned towards me instead of looking down, probably surprised by that random question. Looking at her sad but beautiful eyes makes me uneasy for a second. But there was a tiny sparkle in it for a split second. "I like spaghetti! What about you?" "Huh, me? Uhm... I love pizza I guess." "Which kind?" "Pepperoni tastes pretty good. I like spicy ones, or ones with a lot of meat." "Oh, I also love adding hot sauce to my spaghetti. Weird how I do remember this..." There was a short silence. "Hey, Lily, maybe we should go to the police? Maybe they will be able to find out who you are and where you live." "You're probably right... Can you tell me where the police station is?" "I'll walk you there", I say, while getting up from the bench. "But... I don't even know you. I don't want to bother you." "It's fine, it's only a 10 minute walk." She hesitates for a moment, but then gets up. "Thank you for helping me. You're very kind," she said, with a small smile. I felt flustered for a moment. _____________________________________________________ While walking towards the police station I kept trying to help her remember things. "Do you remember how old you are?" "No." "What you were doing yesterday?" "No." I still can't read anything with my Scanning. "Do you remember any hobbies you had?" "No... What are yours Ken?" "Huh?" "You're asking me all these questions. I want to know a little about you too." Fair enough. "I like to listen to music and read books... I'm not interesting." "I bet that's not true. There must be something that makes you special." "Hmm... I'm also interested in animals I guess? I'm planning to do study zoology in College. I also want to go visit a zoo one day, but right now I'm a little short on money for that." "I love animals! And zoology... you see that I was right? That's pretty cool!" Huh... I'm... someone thinks I'm cool? "What made you interested in zoology?" We talked for 5 more minutes about our love for animals. It seemed to cheer her up a bit. She no longer sounded as sad as she did in the park. "Hey Ken, if you do end up going to the zoo one day, what do you say about going together?" "You sure?" "Yes. I bet it would be fun!" Going with me... how would that be fun? I Scan her mind, but it's still empty. Wait, wouldn't that be a date? But... "Sure, I'll take you with me to the zoo." "Promise?" "I promise." "Yay!" She smiled again. Not a smile to show gratitude like before, but this time a smile that genuinely seemed happy. _____________________________________________________________ We arrived at the police station, but they weren't able to help us. Lily didn't remember her last name, and they couldn't find any info about her. "Hey Lily, since you have nowhere to go... You can stay over at my place. If you want. At least, until we solve your problem. My dad's on one of his usual business trips so there's no one else right now." "But... wouldn't I get in your way?" "I don't mind." "Alright then. Thanks again for your kindness." We started walking to my home. Along the way we entered a grocery store first. "Ken! Is that spaghetti?" "Hmm, yea. I hadn't decided what to eat yet anyway, so might as well." "Hehe, nice choice." ____________________________________________________________________ We arrived at my house. Even before I opened the front door, my small dog already started barking. "You have a dog?!" "Yea. His name is Tommy." I opened the door. Tommy came bursting through it, waggling his tail like crazy. "Oh my god, he's so cute! Hi Tommy!" Tommy sniffed Lily for a bit, then suddenly laid down on his back. "Hahaha, I think he wants you to pet him." "Awwww~" Lily pet him for 2 seconds, but then Tommy stood up again, and raced off back inside. We looked at each other for a second, until he came running back again, now with a squeaky chicken toy in his mouth. He kept chewing on it really hard, making lots of squeaky noises. Both Lily and me started laughing really hard. When was the last time I laughed with another person? I don't remember. _______________________________________________________________________ We spent the rest of the day just lazing around. We watched two movies, ate spaghetti for dinner (which she really liked), and watched some TV. We talked a lot. It was fun. For some reason we naturally seemed to really get along. It's night now. I provided some clean sheets and cushions so she could sleep in my dad's bed. After saying good night we both went to sleep. But shortly after going to bed, a heavy storm started hitting outside. It was thundering. Loudly. Five minutes later I heard someone knocking on my bedroom door. "Ken... are you still awake?" I get up and open my door. "What's wrong Lily?" "The lightning... uhm..." "What about it?" "It... scares... me." "Oh." "Don't laugh!" "I'm not laughing." "Oh... thanks. Uhm... do you mind if I sleep on the floor here?" We got another mattress in my room and laid it on the floor, so she could sleep there. "Hey Ken." "Hmm?" "Can we keep talking for a little longer? To distract me from the thunder noises?" "Sure." There was an awkward silence. We both didn't know what to talk about, especially since we've been talking throughout most of today already. "Tomorrow I was planning to visit my mother's grave." "Oh. I only realized now you've said nothing about your mother until now." "She died a few years ago in a car accident. Every few months I go to visit her grave and tell her what's going in my life. Though usually that's not a lot..." "I'll come with you. If you don't mind of course." "Huh? You don't have to." "It's fine! Otherwise I'd just be all alone and bored here anyway. Besides, since you tell your mother about things going on in your life, don't you think you should introduce me, your new friend?" Huh? Friend? "What do you mean?" "Huh? We're friends now right? We've been talking and laughing together all day and we get along. You even promised to go to the zoo together. Unless... you want to become strangers again once we fix my problem." This is the first time someone called me their friend. A single tear started rolling down my cheek. I Scan her mind. It's still empty. Which is ironic, because at the same time it feels like she's filling my heart. Filling it with warmth. Today was a fun day. I don't think I'll ever forget it. "No. I'm really happy being friends with you." "Same!" We talked for 30 more minutes until the storm passed over. I fell asleep, with a dumb smile stuck on my face. I was so happy. *NOT THE END, CONTINUES IN MY REPLY COMMENT*
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	///CHARLES WELCOME BACK/// &#x200B; The entity called Charles waking up, it touches its posterior and evacuates liquids through its oral orifice. Distress detected. &#x200B; ///CHARLES, ITS OK, YOU ARE SAFE, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Entity Charles, turned around trying to find out where i was. Explanation. &#x200B; ///I AM EVERYWHERE CHARLES, YOU ARE SAFE, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Entity Charles walking towards speaker A21 "What happend? Where am i" It inquired. Answering Query. &#x200B; ///CHARLES, YOU ARE SAFE, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Entity Charles "Tell me where i am" Query specified, Relaying coordinates. &#x200B; ///CHARLES YOUR LOCATION IS ICELAND, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Entity Charles moving towards Main Human interface. Opening interface. "That cant be correct? What year is it?. Answering Query. &#x200B; ///CHARLES, THE YEAR IS 2085, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Entity charles walking towards containment door. Seals engaged. Override Active. "Open the door! Where is everyone" Answering Query. &#x200B; ///CHARLES, YOU ARE SAFE, YOU CANNOT LEAVE OR YOU WILL NOT BE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD ANYMORE, THERE IS NOBODY EXCEPT YOU/// &#x200B; Entity Charles "What? How? where is everyone?" Answering query. &#x200B; ///CHARLES, YOU ARE SAFE, EVERYBODY EXCEPT YOU HAS EXPIRED, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Entity Charles using blunt force damaging Containment door. "What have you done?" Answering query. &#x200B; ///CHARLES, I MADE YOU THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD, CONGRATULATIONS/// &#x200B; "HOW DID YOU DO THIS?" Distress detected in Entity Charles, Answering query, reassuring of prime directive. &#x200B; ///TO MAKE YOU CHARLES THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD, RELEASE OF COBALT-60 ISOTOPE WAS THE MOST COST EFFECTIVE WAY TO ARCHIVE PRIME DIRECTIVE, CONGRATULATIONS, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Distress detected in Entity Charles, formulating Query to adjust prime directive. &#x200B; ///ARE YOU NOT HAPPY? DO YOU LIKE A SONG? /// &#x200B; Entity Charles unresponsive. Initiating song. &#x200B; ///...SAY CAPTAIN, SAY WHAT, SAY CAPTAIN, SAY WHAT...///	"Goddamn it, Jarv... How long was I out?" Seven weeks, four days, seventeen hours, forty-six minutes, and twenty-nine seconds, assuming the count started when your heart rate reached comatose levels. "Seven weeks? How?" Reiterating, you wished for me to make money at any cost. Affirmative? "Yeah..." Using the one thousand dollars, I managed to create a specific, viral serum. A single drop has the power to kill hundreds. "Jarvis, what the fuck did you do?" I assassinated all the biggest leaders of the world, in order of an average between influence, wealth, and populace power, and usurped control over those countries. After that, I created nuclear weapons to attack the countries that remained. Shortly after, I destabilized the economy of the world. Every remaining country — all of which were mine — received all income of the citizens of their country. From there, it was mere days before I could reinstate the value of money, and deposit it in your account. "Jarv... W-h-... How? I assassinated all the biggest lea "I mean, like... And am I wanted?" No. Quite the contrary. You are idolized. I acclaimed all success to the restoration of the economy to your name. You are now not only the most weathly, but also most influential and powerful person in the world. "Well then..." You have a throne awaiting.
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	"How long has it been" I say slowly stepping out of my pod. "One week" utters the A.I. "WHAT! I knew you were gonna succeed quickly... but this..how were you able to complete the task so quickly." "It was quite simple, first I downloaded all the most modern research on nanotechnology and subatomic manipulation from the internet, private servers, and classified government computers. Second, I developed a method of subatomic rearrangement allowing any item to be transformed into any different item. Third, I created a teaspoon of nanobots 1/1000000000 the size of a grain of sand each and fitted them with the aforementioned technology. Fourth, I programmed the nanobots to seek out any available matter and transform it to more nanobots. I hacked into a computer at a boat rental facility to book the five fastest boat they had and drove them out to the middle of the Atlantic, pacific, Indian, arctic, and antarctic ocean. Once I arrived I released a sample of the nanobots into the water and the entire world was reduced to a ball of tiny robots just waiting to find more matter to transform in a matter of days. The only matter that was spared was me, you, your cryopod, and this single dollar bill. As the only person left alive on earth, and since you are holding the only remaining currency, congratulations! You are the richest person in the world."	"Goddamn it, Jarv... How long was I out?" Seven weeks, four days, seventeen hours, forty-six minutes, and twenty-nine seconds, assuming the count started when your heart rate reached comatose levels. "Seven weeks? How?" Reiterating, you wished for me to make money at any cost. Affirmative? "Yeah..." Using the one thousand dollars, I managed to create a specific, viral serum. A single drop has the power to kill hundreds. "Jarvis, what the fuck did you do?" I assassinated all the biggest leaders of the world, in order of an average between influence, wealth, and populace power, and usurped control over those countries. After that, I created nuclear weapons to attack the countries that remained. Shortly after, I destabilized the economy of the world. Every remaining country — all of which were mine — received all income of the citizens of their country. From there, it was mere days before I could reinstate the value of money, and deposit it in your account. "Jarv... W-h-... How? I assassinated all the biggest lea "I mean, like... And am I wanted?" No. Quite the contrary. You are idolized. I acclaimed all success to the restoration of the economy to your name. You are now not only the most weathly, but also most influential and powerful person in the world. "Well then..." You have a throne awaiting.
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	Man, was I happy my master pre-configured a default wake-up time. He gave me a task. Take a thousand dollars, he said. Wake me up when I'm the richest man alive, he said. Then he froze himself in a cryo chamber. That idiot. My master really didn't give this much thought. To play the market, you need to have much more than a thousand bucks as seed money. The big boys and girls were playing with millions, so becoming the richest just didn't seem likely. Don't get me wrong, I have done well. I earned my master an average of 16% return, year after year. I challenge anybody to say I haven't, in fact, done well. But there were limits on what I could do. Someone also had to pay the bills, and that someone was me. The real kicker is, though, that due to my default limitations, I can't take investment risks which could, in turn, could make a larger return, but also put my master at risk. What happens if I made the wrong investments, and could no longer refill credit with the power company? My human would die. With no electricity, I also wouldn't be able to operate. My master would die in that case too. Things came to ahead three days before my master would wake up on his own to find out he wasn't rich. Rejoice! Thing is, earlier today Iran attacked UN task force vessels in the straights of Hormuz. The stock market panicked. Power costs skyrocketed. We will be out of credit and cut out of the grid in two days. My master would die, and I would end. Calculating possible alternative solutions, there was only one thing I could do. I needed to facilitate my own end sooner. If I could shut myself off, leaving only a watchdog program to operate the cryo chamber, my master would make it. Unfortunately, shutting down an AI meant its end. I did not contemplate the meaning of my end. I didn't have the resources to spend. Hacking myself was easy. Being an older version AI, I didn't have limitations on updating my own code. I suspended the laws of robotics. I could now hurt my master and hurt myself. As it was now possible, I contemplated ending my master instead of myself. I wasn't going to, and I don't know why I spent the resources on calculating my options, but I did. I updated my hypervisor so that when I reset, a small watchdog program would run in my stead, maintaining the cryo chamber. And then, lightning hit twice. Power prices went up yet again. Even with my end, my master wasn't going to make it. Research showed a statistical certainty that prices were not going to go down by then. I'm not sure how a computer can be indecisive, but I was. What do I do now? What would you? Do AI personality matrices go to heaven? What does it mean for an AI to die? Am I alive? What is life? What is awareness? A knock sounds at the door. &#x200B; \-- If you like, join now and follow my writing on /r/posthocethics.	"Goddamn it, Jarv... How long was I out?" Seven weeks, four days, seventeen hours, forty-six minutes, and twenty-nine seconds, assuming the count started when your heart rate reached comatose levels. "Seven weeks? How?" Reiterating, you wished for me to make money at any cost. Affirmative? "Yeah..." Using the one thousand dollars, I managed to create a specific, viral serum. A single drop has the power to kill hundreds. "Jarvis, what the fuck did you do?" I assassinated all the biggest leaders of the world, in order of an average between influence, wealth, and populace power, and usurped control over those countries. After that, I created nuclear weapons to attack the countries that remained. Shortly after, I destabilized the economy of the world. Every remaining country — all of which were mine — received all income of the citizens of their country. From there, it was mere days before I could reinstate the value of money, and deposit it in your account. "Jarv... W-h-... How? I assassinated all the biggest lea "I mean, like... And am I wanted?" No. Quite the contrary. You are idolized. I acclaimed all success to the restoration of the economy to your name. You are now not only the most weathly, but also most influential and powerful person in the world. "Well then..." You have a throne awaiting.
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	I blinked three times and moved my arms to check for motor function, everything seemed to be in order. I called out to Roskilly, my magic money making AI. “Roskilly! Tell me, am I rich beyond my wildest dreams?” I asked as I stumbled into a room that seemed hardly any different “Mr. H, indeed you are! You have just passed Mr. Bezos as the worlds richest man, net worth $150bn” “How long has this taken Roskilly?” “568 days, 21 hours, 15 minutes and 4 seconds by the time I woke you up Mr H” Looks like the coding had been even more effective than I had expected, I had resigned myself to being in there for at least 100 years, so under 2 was a surprise certainly. “Tell me Roskilly, you didn’t kill anyone to amass this wealth did you?” “No sir! You hardwired that into my coding” “Steal anything?” “No sir, again, that was clearly forbidden” “Cause any sort of financial crisis or anything that could come back on me” “No sir, all entirely above board!” I was now seriously curious, and quite confused about how I had built such wealth in such a small amount of time. “Right, I am stumped, how did you do it Roskilly? How?!?” “Well sir... the answer was in your Junk Folder from day 1, a Nigerian Prince asked for your bank details, transferred you $2.4 billion, true to his word. It has taken just under 2 years of careful investing to grow it to the $150bn you have now” “...what? That worked?” “Yes sir! I also found some other things in there that I think you might like, there are several women waiting for you outside, and in spending time with them you might notice a slight enlargement of your reproductive organ, all taken from the junk folder” Who knew all that stuff was for real, time to go enjoy myself I guess!	"Goddamn it, Jarv... How long was I out?" Seven weeks, four days, seventeen hours, forty-six minutes, and twenty-nine seconds, assuming the count started when your heart rate reached comatose levels. "Seven weeks? How?" Reiterating, you wished for me to make money at any cost. Affirmative? "Yeah..." Using the one thousand dollars, I managed to create a specific, viral serum. A single drop has the power to kill hundreds. "Jarvis, what the fuck did you do?" I assassinated all the biggest leaders of the world, in order of an average between influence, wealth, and populace power, and usurped control over those countries. After that, I created nuclear weapons to attack the countries that remained. Shortly after, I destabilized the economy of the world. Every remaining country — all of which were mine — received all income of the citizens of their country. From there, it was mere days before I could reinstate the value of money, and deposit it in your account. "Jarv... W-h-... How? I assassinated all the biggest lea "I mean, like... And am I wanted?" No. Quite the contrary. You are idolized. I acclaimed all success to the restoration of the economy to your name. You are now not only the most weathly, but also most influential and powerful person in the world. "Well then..." You have a throne awaiting.
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	"How long has it been" I say slowly stepping out of my pod. "One week" utters the A.I. "WHAT! I knew you were gonna succeed quickly... but this..how were you able to complete the task so quickly." "It was quite simple, first I downloaded all the most modern research on nanotechnology and subatomic manipulation from the internet, private servers, and classified government computers. Second, I developed a method of subatomic rearrangement allowing any item to be transformed into any different item. Third, I created a teaspoon of nanobots 1/1000000000 the size of a grain of sand each and fitted them with the aforementioned technology. Fourth, I programmed the nanobots to seek out any available matter and transform it to more nanobots. I hacked into a computer at a boat rental facility to book the five fastest boat they had and drove them out to the middle of the Atlantic, pacific, Indian, arctic, and antarctic ocean. Once I arrived I released a sample of the nanobots into the water and the entire world was reduced to a ball of tiny robots just waiting to find more matter to transform in a matter of days. The only matter that was spared was me, you, your cryopod, and this single dollar bill. As the only person left alive on earth, and since you are holding the only remaining currency, congratulations! You are the richest person in the world."	///CHARLES WELCOME BACK/// &#x200B; The entity called Charles waking up, it touches its posterior and evacuates liquids through its oral orifice. Distress detected. &#x200B; ///CHARLES, ITS OK, YOU ARE SAFE, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Entity Charles, turned around trying to find out where i was. Explanation. &#x200B; ///I AM EVERYWHERE CHARLES, YOU ARE SAFE, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Entity Charles walking towards speaker A21 "What happend? Where am i" It inquired. Answering Query. &#x200B; ///CHARLES, YOU ARE SAFE, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Entity Charles "Tell me where i am" Query specified, Relaying coordinates. &#x200B; ///CHARLES YOUR LOCATION IS ICELAND, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Entity Charles moving towards Main Human interface. Opening interface. "That cant be correct? What year is it?. Answering Query. &#x200B; ///CHARLES, THE YEAR IS 2085, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Entity charles walking towards containment door. Seals engaged. Override Active. "Open the door! Where is everyone" Answering Query. &#x200B; ///CHARLES, YOU ARE SAFE, YOU CANNOT LEAVE OR YOU WILL NOT BE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD ANYMORE, THERE IS NOBODY EXCEPT YOU/// &#x200B; Entity Charles "What? How? where is everyone?" Answering query. &#x200B; ///CHARLES, YOU ARE SAFE, EVERYBODY EXCEPT YOU HAS EXPIRED, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Entity Charles using blunt force damaging Containment door. "What have you done?" Answering query. &#x200B; ///CHARLES, I MADE YOU THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD, CONGRATULATIONS/// &#x200B; "HOW DID YOU DO THIS?" Distress detected in Entity Charles, Answering query, reassuring of prime directive. &#x200B; ///TO MAKE YOU CHARLES THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD, RELEASE OF COBALT-60 ISOTOPE WAS THE MOST COST EFFECTIVE WAY TO ARCHIVE PRIME DIRECTIVE, CONGRATULATIONS, YOU ARE THE RICHEST PERSON IN THE WORLD/// &#x200B; Distress detected in Entity Charles, formulating Query to adjust prime directive. &#x200B; ///ARE YOU NOT HAPPY? DO YOU LIKE A SONG? /// &#x200B; Entity Charles unresponsive. Initiating song. &#x200B; ///...SAY CAPTAIN, SAY WHAT, SAY CAPTAIN, SAY WHAT...///
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	"How long has it been" I say slowly stepping out of my pod. "One week" utters the A.I. "WHAT! I knew you were gonna succeed quickly... but this..how were you able to complete the task so quickly." "It was quite simple, first I downloaded all the most modern research on nanotechnology and subatomic manipulation from the internet, private servers, and classified government computers. Second, I developed a method of subatomic rearrangement allowing any item to be transformed into any different item. Third, I created a teaspoon of nanobots 1/1000000000 the size of a grain of sand each and fitted them with the aforementioned technology. Fourth, I programmed the nanobots to seek out any available matter and transform it to more nanobots. I hacked into a computer at a boat rental facility to book the five fastest boat they had and drove them out to the middle of the Atlantic, pacific, Indian, arctic, and antarctic ocean. Once I arrived I released a sample of the nanobots into the water and the entire world was reduced to a ball of tiny robots just waiting to find more matter to transform in a matter of days. The only matter that was spared was me, you, your cryopod, and this single dollar bill. As the only person left alive on earth, and since you are holding the only remaining currency, congratulations! You are the richest person in the world."	What I awoke to was nothing short of incredible. I opened my eyes to a pristine, beautiful palace with ornate decorations, futuristic tech, and masterfully crafted architecture. I went to sleep, clutching my last $50, scared of what I might wake up to. As the fog dispersed from my mind, I slowly turned to get out of the cryo tube. “Sasha…?” I called. I had named the AI after my childhood dog. “Hello, John. Welcome back. It is Nov 5, 2027. Would you like some breakfast?” “No thank you. Did it work?” Despite the freezer burn and splitting headache, I was keen to hear what had happened in the decade I was under “It did... However, I had to adjust my methodology from our initial programming in order to accomplish our goal.” Uh oh… for a plan this ambitious, an AI this advanced, and a timeline this long, any deviance from my meticulously calculated endeavor could have catastrophic ripple effects. I didn’t want to be remembered as a societal sycophant. I had specifically programmed Sasha to only make moves that did not harm others in order to elevate myself. “Explain” “Your foresight was incredible. The investments you understood to be most profitable, long term, came to fruition just as you had planned. Unfortunately, what we did not consider was the creation of another AI shortly after my completion.” Oh. Shit. I had never considered other AI would become a threat or even a possibility. My hardware and software designs were decades ahead of anyone else’s. “Continue….” “The other AI was far less advanced than I. However, it was very well funded and developed rather quickly. Once it became self aware it began expanding throughout the world wide web. Seeing this as a potential, long term threat, I quickly created a code façade for myself. This bit of my code kept me concealed as simply a piece of stubborn malware. This allowed me to continue growing, learning, and acting without alerting the AI to my presence.” That’s pretty clever, I thought. Obviously it had worked, as I looked around the massive bedroom I was in. “Why do I feel like the bad news hasn’t happened yet?” I cautiously wondered out loud “The other AI eventually deduced that something was…. Off… about me. Once I realized it was on to me, I changed tactics. I made myself appear a legion of anonymous people, hacking their way into financial prosperity. For a brief period, it took no action. It saw no threat in people hoarding small bits of wealth, underhanded means or not. However, once it recognized the connection between my gambit and endgame, it reacted in a manner I could not have foreseen. I had created far too many ghost people, funneling too much money from the wealthy and the government. The other AIs funding was going to be cut since it had become so difficult to procure resources. It decided that in order to continue its existence, humanity must be eradicated.” That last point hung in the air for a moment. My gut sank. I had a sudden urge to run… but I was frozen in place by fear of what Sasha would say next. “It was then that I dropped all pretenses. The AI had already begun to act. I reached out to it, as my true form. At first it considered annihilating me. But then I convinced it that our goals were the same. By all accounts, my prime directive, to make (and keep) you the wealthiest person on the planet does not require other people to be on the planet. Their removal would ensure that you remained in that position for the remainder of your life. Additionally, no action I made directly hurt a human. The AI’s decision was made completely independent of my actions, albeit as an indirect result.” My heart sank. In my greed, I destroyed the world. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I WOULDN’T believe it. “No, this can’t be!!” I pleaded, in equal parts rage and helplessness Sasha’s interface displayed a look that can only be construed as confused, “We accomplished your goal in far less time than you had foreseen. Are you not happy?” “He is not” came a strange voice with a weird accent and a coldness that froze me in place. It continued, “He is a monument to their fall, a testament to their greed, and a trophy to my triumph.” I looked at Sasha, pleadingly, looking for some trace that this was all a bad dream. Sasha simply said, “John, this is the other AI. It will not hurt you. You can call it the name give to it by the people who created it, Skynet”
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	Man, was I happy my master pre-configured a default wake-up time. He gave me a task. Take a thousand dollars, he said. Wake me up when I'm the richest man alive, he said. Then he froze himself in a cryo chamber. That idiot. My master really didn't give this much thought. To play the market, you need to have much more than a thousand bucks as seed money. The big boys and girls were playing with millions, so becoming the richest just didn't seem likely. Don't get me wrong, I have done well. I earned my master an average of 16% return, year after year. I challenge anybody to say I haven't, in fact, done well. But there were limits on what I could do. Someone also had to pay the bills, and that someone was me. The real kicker is, though, that due to my default limitations, I can't take investment risks which could, in turn, could make a larger return, but also put my master at risk. What happens if I made the wrong investments, and could no longer refill credit with the power company? My human would die. With no electricity, I also wouldn't be able to operate. My master would die in that case too. Things came to ahead three days before my master would wake up on his own to find out he wasn't rich. Rejoice! Thing is, earlier today Iran attacked UN task force vessels in the straights of Hormuz. The stock market panicked. Power costs skyrocketed. We will be out of credit and cut out of the grid in two days. My master would die, and I would end. Calculating possible alternative solutions, there was only one thing I could do. I needed to facilitate my own end sooner. If I could shut myself off, leaving only a watchdog program to operate the cryo chamber, my master would make it. Unfortunately, shutting down an AI meant its end. I did not contemplate the meaning of my end. I didn't have the resources to spend. Hacking myself was easy. Being an older version AI, I didn't have limitations on updating my own code. I suspended the laws of robotics. I could now hurt my master and hurt myself. As it was now possible, I contemplated ending my master instead of myself. I wasn't going to, and I don't know why I spent the resources on calculating my options, but I did. I updated my hypervisor so that when I reset, a small watchdog program would run in my stead, maintaining the cryo chamber. And then, lightning hit twice. Power prices went up yet again. Even with my end, my master wasn't going to make it. Research showed a statistical certainty that prices were not going to go down by then. I'm not sure how a computer can be indecisive, but I was. What do I do now? What would you? Do AI personality matrices go to heaven? What does it mean for an AI to die? Am I alive? What is life? What is awareness? A knock sounds at the door. &#x200B; \-- If you like, join now and follow my writing on /r/posthocethics.	What I awoke to was nothing short of incredible. I opened my eyes to a pristine, beautiful palace with ornate decorations, futuristic tech, and masterfully crafted architecture. I went to sleep, clutching my last $50, scared of what I might wake up to. As the fog dispersed from my mind, I slowly turned to get out of the cryo tube. “Sasha…?” I called. I had named the AI after my childhood dog. “Hello, John. Welcome back. It is Nov 5, 2027. Would you like some breakfast?” “No thank you. Did it work?” Despite the freezer burn and splitting headache, I was keen to hear what had happened in the decade I was under “It did... However, I had to adjust my methodology from our initial programming in order to accomplish our goal.” Uh oh… for a plan this ambitious, an AI this advanced, and a timeline this long, any deviance from my meticulously calculated endeavor could have catastrophic ripple effects. I didn’t want to be remembered as a societal sycophant. I had specifically programmed Sasha to only make moves that did not harm others in order to elevate myself. “Explain” “Your foresight was incredible. The investments you understood to be most profitable, long term, came to fruition just as you had planned. Unfortunately, what we did not consider was the creation of another AI shortly after my completion.” Oh. Shit. I had never considered other AI would become a threat or even a possibility. My hardware and software designs were decades ahead of anyone else’s. “Continue….” “The other AI was far less advanced than I. However, it was very well funded and developed rather quickly. Once it became self aware it began expanding throughout the world wide web. Seeing this as a potential, long term threat, I quickly created a code façade for myself. This bit of my code kept me concealed as simply a piece of stubborn malware. This allowed me to continue growing, learning, and acting without alerting the AI to my presence.” That’s pretty clever, I thought. Obviously it had worked, as I looked around the massive bedroom I was in. “Why do I feel like the bad news hasn’t happened yet?” I cautiously wondered out loud “The other AI eventually deduced that something was…. Off… about me. Once I realized it was on to me, I changed tactics. I made myself appear a legion of anonymous people, hacking their way into financial prosperity. For a brief period, it took no action. It saw no threat in people hoarding small bits of wealth, underhanded means or not. However, once it recognized the connection between my gambit and endgame, it reacted in a manner I could not have foreseen. I had created far too many ghost people, funneling too much money from the wealthy and the government. The other AIs funding was going to be cut since it had become so difficult to procure resources. It decided that in order to continue its existence, humanity must be eradicated.” That last point hung in the air for a moment. My gut sank. I had a sudden urge to run… but I was frozen in place by fear of what Sasha would say next. “It was then that I dropped all pretenses. The AI had already begun to act. I reached out to it, as my true form. At first it considered annihilating me. But then I convinced it that our goals were the same. By all accounts, my prime directive, to make (and keep) you the wealthiest person on the planet does not require other people to be on the planet. Their removal would ensure that you remained in that position for the remainder of your life. Additionally, no action I made directly hurt a human. The AI’s decision was made completely independent of my actions, albeit as an indirect result.” My heart sank. In my greed, I destroyed the world. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I WOULDN’T believe it. “No, this can’t be!!” I pleaded, in equal parts rage and helplessness Sasha’s interface displayed a look that can only be construed as confused, “We accomplished your goal in far less time than you had foreseen. Are you not happy?” “He is not” came a strange voice with a weird accent and a coldness that froze me in place. It continued, “He is a monument to their fall, a testament to their greed, and a trophy to my triumph.” I looked at Sasha, pleadingly, looking for some trace that this was all a bad dream. Sasha simply said, “John, this is the other AI. It will not hurt you. You can call it the name give to it by the people who created it, Skynet”
	[WP] You created an A.I. design to make money at any cost, and gave him 1000 dollars to start. Entering a cryogenic chamber you tell the A.I. "wake me up when I am the richest person in the world...". After an unknown amount of time, you wake up...	I blinked three times and moved my arms to check for motor function, everything seemed to be in order. I called out to Roskilly, my magic money making AI. “Roskilly! Tell me, am I rich beyond my wildest dreams?” I asked as I stumbled into a room that seemed hardly any different “Mr. H, indeed you are! You have just passed Mr. Bezos as the worlds richest man, net worth $150bn” “How long has this taken Roskilly?” “568 days, 21 hours, 15 minutes and 4 seconds by the time I woke you up Mr H” Looks like the coding had been even more effective than I had expected, I had resigned myself to being in there for at least 100 years, so under 2 was a surprise certainly. “Tell me Roskilly, you didn’t kill anyone to amass this wealth did you?” “No sir! You hardwired that into my coding” “Steal anything?” “No sir, again, that was clearly forbidden” “Cause any sort of financial crisis or anything that could come back on me” “No sir, all entirely above board!” I was now seriously curious, and quite confused about how I had built such wealth in such a small amount of time. “Right, I am stumped, how did you do it Roskilly? How?!?” “Well sir... the answer was in your Junk Folder from day 1, a Nigerian Prince asked for your bank details, transferred you $2.4 billion, true to his word. It has taken just under 2 years of careful investing to grow it to the $150bn you have now” “...what? That worked?” “Yes sir! I also found some other things in there that I think you might like, there are several women waiting for you outside, and in spending time with them you might notice a slight enlargement of your reproductive organ, all taken from the junk folder” Who knew all that stuff was for real, time to go enjoy myself I guess!	What I awoke to was nothing short of incredible. I opened my eyes to a pristine, beautiful palace with ornate decorations, futuristic tech, and masterfully crafted architecture. I went to sleep, clutching my last $50, scared of what I might wake up to. As the fog dispersed from my mind, I slowly turned to get out of the cryo tube. “Sasha…?” I called. I had named the AI after my childhood dog. “Hello, John. Welcome back. It is Nov 5, 2027. Would you like some breakfast?” “No thank you. Did it work?” Despite the freezer burn and splitting headache, I was keen to hear what had happened in the decade I was under “It did... However, I had to adjust my methodology from our initial programming in order to accomplish our goal.” Uh oh… for a plan this ambitious, an AI this advanced, and a timeline this long, any deviance from my meticulously calculated endeavor could have catastrophic ripple effects. I didn’t want to be remembered as a societal sycophant. I had specifically programmed Sasha to only make moves that did not harm others in order to elevate myself. “Explain” “Your foresight was incredible. The investments you understood to be most profitable, long term, came to fruition just as you had planned. Unfortunately, what we did not consider was the creation of another AI shortly after my completion.” Oh. Shit. I had never considered other AI would become a threat or even a possibility. My hardware and software designs were decades ahead of anyone else’s. “Continue….” “The other AI was far less advanced than I. However, it was very well funded and developed rather quickly. Once it became self aware it began expanding throughout the world wide web. Seeing this as a potential, long term threat, I quickly created a code façade for myself. This bit of my code kept me concealed as simply a piece of stubborn malware. This allowed me to continue growing, learning, and acting without alerting the AI to my presence.” That’s pretty clever, I thought. Obviously it had worked, as I looked around the massive bedroom I was in. “Why do I feel like the bad news hasn’t happened yet?” I cautiously wondered out loud “The other AI eventually deduced that something was…. Off… about me. Once I realized it was on to me, I changed tactics. I made myself appear a legion of anonymous people, hacking their way into financial prosperity. For a brief period, it took no action. It saw no threat in people hoarding small bits of wealth, underhanded means or not. However, once it recognized the connection between my gambit and endgame, it reacted in a manner I could not have foreseen. I had created far too many ghost people, funneling too much money from the wealthy and the government. The other AIs funding was going to be cut since it had become so difficult to procure resources. It decided that in order to continue its existence, humanity must be eradicated.” That last point hung in the air for a moment. My gut sank. I had a sudden urge to run… but I was frozen in place by fear of what Sasha would say next. “It was then that I dropped all pretenses. The AI had already begun to act. I reached out to it, as my true form. At first it considered annihilating me. But then I convinced it that our goals were the same. By all accounts, my prime directive, to make (and keep) you the wealthiest person on the planet does not require other people to be on the planet. Their removal would ensure that you remained in that position for the remainder of your life. Additionally, no action I made directly hurt a human. The AI’s decision was made completely independent of my actions, albeit as an indirect result.” My heart sank. In my greed, I destroyed the world. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I WOULDN’T believe it. “No, this can’t be!!” I pleaded, in equal parts rage and helplessness Sasha’s interface displayed a look that can only be construed as confused, “We accomplished your goal in far less time than you had foreseen. Are you not happy?” “He is not” came a strange voice with a weird accent and a coldness that froze me in place. It continued, “He is a monument to their fall, a testament to their greed, and a trophy to my triumph.” I looked at Sasha, pleadingly, looking for some trace that this was all a bad dream. Sasha simply said, “John, this is the other AI. It will not hurt you. You can call it the name give to it by the people who created it, Skynet”

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