Bay head nj restaurants
VisitingHawaii
2022.04.10 07:58 webrender VisitingHawaii
Aloha - this is a subreddit for visitors looking for advice to plan their vacation, or to share their own experiences on the Hawaiian islands. Please note the subreddit rules before posting.
2019.03.14 01:42 madazzahatter Local Kine Grindz - 'Ono Kine Grindz Broke Da Mouth!
Local Kine Grindz - cooking, restaurants, recipes, food network, foodies, pics. 'Ono kine broke da mouth?! Talk story here!
2019.08.22 04:25 honolulu_oahu_mod Aloha and welcome to /r/Kaimuki ~ E Komo Mai!
Aloha and welcome to /Kaimuki, a place for anything local, like news, pics, sports, events or just stop by, talk story. It's not a place for stink eye or downvote menehunes.
2023.03.24 14:16 482jobs Head Chef Production Kitchen 0 Australia Relocation assistance and sponsorship can be offered
Once in a lifetime opportunity to use all your experience to manage a team and run a kitchen where the daily menu is designed according to the morning harvest, using the freshest ingredients, internally produced oils and cured meats. This is the ultimate opportunity to make your mark at a real “from the farm to the table” restaurant.
You will be working at a state of the art venue located 10 min from Canberra CBD. Relocation assistance and sponsorship can be offered for the right candidate. The group you will be part of proudly provides top quality food, friendly service and positive work environment with a 0% wastage approach.
Head Chef’s and Senior Sous Chef’s ready to step up are welcome to apply. Experience working at a Production required.
The role
submitted by 482jobs to SponsorshipAustralia [link] [comments]
You will be working at a state of the art venue located 10 min from Canberra CBD. Relocation assistance and sponsorship can be offered for the right candidate. The group you will be part of proudly provides top quality food, friendly service and positive work environment with a 0% wastage approach.
Head Chef’s and Senior Sous Chef’s ready to step up are welcome to apply. Experience working at a Production required.
The role
- High performing operation with many moving parts to keep you challenged and creative. - Read to eat meals and production kitchens for restaurants. - Supportive network of Exec. Chef and leaders in the business.https://482jobs.com/job/head-chef-production-kitchen-0-australia-relocation-assistance-and-sponsorship-can-be-offered/
2023.03.24 14:15 rephlexi0n The Universe's Final Creation
Let me start by saying I’m breaching contract by sharing this. If the company’s lookouts link this post to me – which they will – I’ll be disgraced, and any chance at getting a job in this profession again will be out of the picture. I have the common sense to keep my name unknown, but all that’s gonna do is slow them down.
Keeping this hidden would be a crime against humanity of the highest order. You all deserve to know, as terrible as it is.
I work at an unnamed technological research company as, you guessed it, a researcher. In recent years, we’ve made astonishing advancements in developing technology that can interact with and harness tachyons.
Tachyons are particles that travel faster than light; that’s the most important part. They’ve been a subject of theoretical physics since the late 60s, but as far as public knowledge goes, they’re still just that. Theoretical.
But they are most certainly real. Well, not “tachyons” per se, though their behaviour is equatable. I won’t bore you with the technicalities, but the result of a particle travelling faster than light is that said particle is able to, effectively, travel backwards in time.
My other group members and I have been experimenting with these particles for the best part of two years now. We’ve made major advances, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about.
Yesterday, 23/03/2023, at 09:07 am, my equipment detected a tachyon signal. This was in the morning, mind you, and no tests had yet been carried out. From what I can tell, this signal originated – or, rather, will originate – from elsewhere.
Playing it out loud, it at first just sounded like a garbled mess of frequencies. But after observing the audio structure, I found it to be made up of thousands of tones, of which there were only two types – long, and short.
The realisation hit pretty quick. It was Morse code, or, at least, it could be interpreted as such. The most fundamental form of digital communication known to man. So, I ran it through an auto-interpreter a few times, and got a fully coherent message.
I refuse to believe that I’m seeing patterns where there are none. The chances are so astronomically low that I can’t feasibly consider it to be a random signal, especially considering I’ve never received one from somewhere outside the lab.
I’m going to copy over the translation here. I do not wish to instil panic, but please, spread this post. People need to be aware that this is a real possibility.
To whomever is reading this, prepare yourself.
Here it is.
[TRANSCRIPT BEGIN]
Hi.
My name is Tim Hermelle. Before I write down this account, I should insist that this is the truth. This is happening to us all right now. This is not a joke, prank, or an interactive project.
This is the truth. You HAVE to believe what you are about to read, for our sakes.
Okay, with that out of the way… shit, it’s getting closer. I’ll write down what I can before we’re pulled back to the city, to join the others. I hope enough context is given in my account for you to fully understand.
I live - lived - in the great city of Pharades (that’s Pha-ra-dees). The utopia of humanity’s future. Life was amazing. Every aspect brought joy and satisfaction to every person. No hunger, thirst, no overpopulation, pollution… a Nirvana if there ever was. The level of advancement may be difficult for some of you to believe
Work was optional, and automatons would fill the spaces left by those choosing to pursue their own personal dreams. Even so, a large number of people here still choose to have jobs, vocations I suppose. Healthcare was unparalleled, and not one person has died during my time here.
Everything major was decided by a vote. It was the perfect democratic system, but I’m no politician, so I wouldn’t be able to explain to you why that is.
Hell, we even had a collective vote to decide the next week’s weather every Sunday. That’s right, we’d taken control of the weather. Want to splash around in puddles, smelling the petrichor? Maybe get a tan on? You’d just have to go and vote for it.
Pharades was, without hyperbole, fucking beautiful. In between the city blocks, there were great swathes of woodland and meadows. Crystal rivers flowed underneath silver bridges, and leaves of every colour painted the landscape like polka dots.
And the city itself, well, they say nature trumps anything manmade in terms of beauty, but I disagree. The intricately designed towers were accented by all the most complementary colours, gold, chrome, red, blue, any combination you could imagine, it was here. Arches, spirals, and patterns of every variety adorned the structures.
The day in question was a Wednesday – not that days of the week held any particular significance anymore. I’d planned to meet with two of my buddies, Erin and Tuan, at our favourite coffee shop a couple of districts over, in the Wantania area.
Historically, the journey may have been arduous, or frustrating. Not now. Most people didn’t even use vehicles anymore – instead, the city had built a vast underground network of ever-shifting and rearranging tracks, called “Tubyrinth”. Each person owned a personal pod of sorts, customisable to any degree.
I input Wantania Central, and hopped inside. My pod contained a sofa and a minifridge, stocked up with my favourite drinks. The journey was always snappy. Each time, the underground superstructure would arrange a new and unique track to be used, direct to a reserved bay.
Just fifteen minutes later, I was stood under the vaulted, ornamental expanse of the station roof, a hundred or so feet above. I always stopped here to just stare upwards for a moment, absorbing the imaginative architecture.
After exiting the station, I was surprised to see that both Erin and Tuan were already waiting for me outside. The good kind of surprised, that slaps a goofy smile onto your face.
“Took you long enough!” Tuan chuckled, finding the irony in his own words hilarious.
“God, I know right?” added Erin, “I was worried I’d need crutches after standing out here waiting!”
“Well, heh, you’re not gonna like this next part,” I joked, and we set off down the street, laughing. Our favourite café was called “Beansmith’s Forge”. It was a cheesy, but endearing name, and the theme fit the three of us like a glove; as I said before, we’d been working on worldbuilding for our fantasy RPG, an immersive neurolink VR experience, where the player could design their own character and have a unique questline auto-generated out of a complex system.
We ordered brunch, and, of course, coffee. I won’t get into the details of our talks, but we quickly finished up, paid, and set off down Gerben Street.
The more exciting event of the day was our session booked at the aptly named Noji Box, something you could call an “anti-grav playground”. Admittedly, I’ve never fully known how it works, just that it involves paired wormholes, immensely powerful electromagnets, and a huge vacuum-chamber.
One thing I was always grateful for was that the automatons, who I saw working robotically through storefront windows, were withheld any accurate human likeness – I’m sure you’ve heard of the uncanny valley, so you’ll know what I mean. They fell just short of it.
All was calm on the walk, as to be expected. We made it to the Noji Box in good time, ten minutes before our session booking. I get it’s company policy to take everyone through the safety basics, but it was admittedly a little boring after many, many past visits.
The only real requirement was that you’d have to wear an “osteopatic suit”. No, osteostatic? Something about keeping your bones from floating away from each other, or from disappearing over time.
We were suited up, ready to enter “S.S. Slamdown”, when a sudden tremor shook the building’s foundations. Everyone shared the same puzzled expression – not once had something like that ever happened in Pharades.
The staff looked a bit stumped at first. I guess they never had to deal with a situation like this in the past. To our dismay, but unsurprisingly, our session was cancelled, and we were told that they would call us later to sort out a re-booking.
I had the strangest feeling when we left and began back down the road. Something similar to déjà vu, but not quite. Like nostalgia, but without the accompanying feeling of reminiscence or joy.
Trying to brush it off, I distracted my mind by humming a tune. I didn’t know what it was from, at the time, but I knew it was a stringed melody. A violin? Thing is, I wasn’t really humming it as much as hearing it in my head.
We rounded a corner, and Erin paused in surprise.
“Oh, that’s… hey, that’s Jeremiah! He’s been playing that fiddle the street over from mine for the past, what, two weeks? Come on, let’s go listen.”
I grew confused when we approached, only to hear the exact same melody that had just been looping in my head. Before I’d heard this guy playing. I don’t remember stumbling upon this particular street performer before this point.
We stood listening for a few minutes, then continued our walk. Thoughts no longer infested with that tune, I was hit with what I can only describe as a taste. The savoury taste of something on my tongue, complete with mustard and relish. Meat of some kind?
The concern started to flourish when we came upon a food truck, and Tuan asked if we were hungry. Sure, we’d just eaten at the coffee shop, but I could fit in one more tasty bite. He offered to pay, which we gladly accepted, and he returned with… hotdogs. With mustard. And relish.
My gratitude masked the ever-growing confusion within me. Was this just a weird coincidence, or something else? Did I know we were going to get hotdogs?
We wound up back at the station, where a feeling of detached sorrow welled up inside me, something you might feel after recalling a bad memory from which you’ve since recovered. I understood then that I would run into my on-good-terms ex inside. But, before we could enter, another rumbling tremor swept across the street, followed by the clamour of destruction and screams from inside.
A grey dust cloud plumed out from the entrance, sweeping us off of our feet. I saw Erin flipped face-first into the pavement, just as I caught my heel on the base of a stop sign. Yet another quake boomed underneath the asphalt.
The asphalt I was falling down onto… but the impact didn’t come. Instead of a hard surface, the sensation of falling went on. You know that feeling when you think there’s another step at the bottom of the stairs, only to find the floor instead? It was just like that.
The ground I fell upon wasn’t asphalt. It rang out as I collided, almost hollow-sounding. Metallic. Maybe it was just my head ringing, but without a doubt, I was not in the street anymore.
I sat up, and my palms confirmed I was on a metal floor, the kind with those diamond-shaped grips. Looking around almost caused a complete sensory overload, immediately. A multitude of flashing lights, screens, wires, buttons, and all sorts decorated the room. It looked not far off from the control room of an intelligence agency – at least, how they’re depicted in movies.
I got onto one knee and pivoted to look around. The tall man standing directly behind me almost led to a second fall, but instead I scooted backward frantically at the sight.
The man – well, I say “man”, but this person didn’t really have any distinguishing features. They were wearing a spotless black and white cloak of some kind, and a metal cage covering the upper half of their face, so that only their mouth was visible.
They stood still, not reacting to my show of surprise, then spoke in the most androgynous voice conceivable.
“How did you get in here?”
I scanned the room, finding that there were no obvious entrances anywhere around, like we were inside a closed-off box.
“I- uh, I fell over, a-and next thing I know – here,” I stuttered.
“Well, you shouldn’t be here, and there’s no way that you should be able to get here.”
I stood up, feeling a little more comfortable in the presence of this stranger, though not letting my guard down entirely. Now, I could see the pictures displayed across the screens – they seemed to be feeds of countless locations in Pharades, streets, woodlands, you name it.
“What… what the hell’s going on here? Who are you? Why are you spying on the city?”
The stranger didn’t seem amused, being pelted with questions, and held up a hand, gesturing me to stop. They let out a deep, held breath.
“Well, since you’re here, I may as well enlighten you. Take a seat.”
So I did. I sat in shock and disbelief for the next five minutes as the person answered all my questions, even the ones I didn’t know I wanted to ask. They introduced themselves simply as “Administrator”, but I chose “Admin”, to avoid the mouthful.
Admin proceeded to tell me the truth, as casually as one would talk about the weather.
It wasn’t real.
A simulation.
They told me we were inside a highly advanced, self-sustaining, supercomputer pod travelling through deep space, harvesting energy from ions extracted from the surrounding vacuum. Over a hundred trillion years ago, those living here now consented in having their consciousness imported to the device.
On top of the ion harvesting, power was supposedly generated from emotions experienced by a consciousness – the more intense an emotion or feeling, the more power generated.
I interrupted the monologue at this point with a question they hadn’t seemed to consider,
“Let’s say I believe what you’re saying. If this system’s been up for as long as you say, why did I only just have my 29th birthday, what, two months back now?”
“I understand your concern, but allow me to continue. Every 50 years, it is reset. All your memories are wiped and locked away until the moments when you would again make those memories. There are only a set number of people who were uploaded to the system, and their minds cannot simply be deleted if they were to die.”
Not only a simulation, but an endless loop? My brain felt like it might burst.
“Wait,” I said, “if we’re reset every time, and everything plays out the same… then, we can’t possibly have any free will of our own, right?”
“I suppose you could say that. But the illusion we, I, have worked tirelessly to maintain, gives the impression that you do.”
“Wh… what? So, the original me signed up for this? But I’m not him! I’m a copy, aren’t I? Do I have a choice in this?”
“There is no way for me to erase any person that lives here. Only if the pod itself is damaged or destroyed, can I, or anyone else, truly die. The Great Stellar Extinction has come and gone, and all that remains outside is cold, and dark. A handful of black and brown dwarves, and black holes. To my knowledge.”
The sudden feeling of intense, hollow loneliness filled up my chest. We were alone in a great black sea of nothingness. My slack jaw must have told Admin I didn’t have the capacity to speak.
“Over time, I have lost contact with the hundreds of thousands of other pods that were ejected from Earth all that time ago. Either they are too far now, or they met a destructive end. I can’t say which is the better, anymore.”
Absorbing the sudden truth, the emptiness evolved into anger.
“Let me get this straight. We, living our lives down there, are puppets to you? Is that it? Just an endless cycle of digital paradise, kept in the dark of all you’ve just told me? How can you possibly justify this?!”
“Calm down. Having your memories wiped is a luxury I cannot afford. Anyway, that’s only the preface of what I need to talk about. I’m sure you also noticed the tremors, down there?”
“The tremors? Oh, oh yeah. Sort of ruined my plans, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.”
“I didn’t do anything. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Whatever the cause, it’s not within this pod.”
I took it all in. A system malfunction? Why did the Admin feel the need to share this with me?
“Is… is that why, maybe, that I could predict some of the things that happened afterwards?”
“It’s worse than I thought. The memory suppression seems to be failing.”
Both of us paused for a moment. The silence was deafening.
“I’ve been taking readings on the external sensors. There’s… something out there. An object. It’s been following us for a while now, but with no starlight left, I don’t know what it is. Space debris couldn’t move on its own accord like this thing is.”
“What are you trying to say?” I sputtered, the dread I felt deepening by the second.
“I’m saying that something has found us.”
My blood ran cold. Found us? What could have found us?
“Didn’t you say all the stars are dead? The universe is just darkness now. What could have found us? What?”
“I wish I had the answers, too. I don’t think we’re safe anymore. The most recent readings imply that whatever it is, it’s latched onto the pod somehow. Possibly-“
Admin was cut off by the loud screech of static from the speakers around the room. Their head shot up to the nearest corner in a manner that set me on a knife’s edge.
The tremors returned with a vengeance now, and the both of us were sent sprawling onto the floor. I didn’t fall through it this time, though. Sparks flew and monitors went offline.
I was about to ask what we should do, when the roaring static settled, and something else started to play.
An innocent, childlike giggle. Gurgled coos, infantile squeals of joy that pierced my eardrums like needles and left them ringing. Remembering the sounds that came from those speakers make my insides twist and yearn to escape my body, knowing what came next.
The laughter grew, and so did the tremors. The room started to collapse, wires and boxes raining down upon us. Well, not really collapse, no, but change. The far wall crumpled, like something on the other side assailed it with forceful impacts, and the room began to shrink.
As if that dark place wasn’t claustrophobic enough, the ceiling, walls, everything began to close in on us. All the while, the childlike giggling only grew in joy. I thought we were to be crushed and snapped by the pressure, when we were abruptly freed.
It had happened again. Pushed through the floor and spat out somewhere else. This time, I – we – found ourselves near a paved road leading out of one of the city blocks, into a green meadow which gave way to trees a ways down.
Something was terribly wrong. Only after brushing myself off and standing up did I become aware of the swirling darkness that replaced the once baby-blue sky, with its cotton candy clouds. A heavy and unsettling calm had fallen upon us, dampening the city’s brilliance. No more did sunlight gleam off the ornate spires and arches, replaced by a still, hanging shadow.
The eerie quiet was shattered by that godforsaken crackling, booming across the landscape, despite not a speaker in sight, again followed by those ill-belonging coos and cries. Accompanying the infantile sputtering came an uproar of cracking and crumbling, great impacts from deep within the city’s heart.
Both Admin and I stared in disbelief as distant buildings sunk into the ground, while others twisted and warped their way into the sky, as if made from soft clay. Some just disappeared entirely, leaving not a shred of evidence behind that they had ever been there, while their former inhabitants plunged from storeys above.
“It’s taken my place.”
Those four unprompted words shook me to the core of my being. The god of this world had been usurped.
“But why?” I found myself asking, “with what motive?”
Admin went to reply, but stopped upon seeing the great, pinkish masses floating up out of the streets, far ahead. We stared in bewilderment, trying to make out what they were. The chorus of screams hurried us to the realisation that the balls were… they were made of people.
Agonised, howling faces littered the fleshy abominations, while more objects rose around them. Structural beams, signposts, metal objects of every kind gravitated toward the amalgams of humanity, before their relentless assaults began.
Ripping, tearing, stabbing, slicing… it was already too much for my mind to comprehend. It garnered no reaction from myself other than stunned shock. Flesh and blood spewed from the masses, and orbited around them like the rings of Saturn, falling back in to haphazardly patch themselves back onto the wailing people.
My thoughtless attention was redirected as a frantic deluge of citizens fled the city, running down the street towards us. One by one, the exodus was halted, people seeming to stop in place abruptly, though the screams did not relent.
I couldn’t see what had stopped them until the crowd drew closer, where I saw an elderly man whip forward, foot stuck fast, instantly snapping his knee from the momentum. He let out a heart-wrenching cry as he fell down and looked to see what had stopped him.
Something that looked like roots, water pipes maybe, had erupted through the tarmac and coiled their way up his leg. I could see the strength draining in his eyes as they stood him back upright by force, wrapping around his entire body.
I watched in abject horror as he was raised off the ground, and each and every one of the old man’s limbs were bent and snapped at unnatural angles, shattering frail bones into dust.
His feeble cries were promptly silenced as a squirming metal tube forced its way inside his mouth, his eyes rolling back in unfathomable agony as the bulging mass forced its way down his throat, splitting his ribcage apart and allowing the organs within to slop out and float in the air, as if weightless. The whole process seemed to reverse itself in time, then repeat, over and over.
I could only hear the echoes of Admin’s shouts and the faint sensation of their grip on my forearm as they pulled me away from the mind-bending atrocity. My vacant body tumbled backward, sending both of us falling onto the grass.
Still I could only sit there, frozen. Somewhere off to the right, I saw a young woman pulling presumably her daughter along by the wrist, fleeing the hellscape of flesh and bone down a small alley. Her head spun wildly as she noticed the walls of the alleyway closing in around them.
She burst out into the open, but was yanked back, her grip fast. She turned in desperation, only to see her daughter, who couldn’t have been more than seven, being slowly crushed into a paste of bloody flesh and yellow fat. Her pitiful screams still ring in my ears, seeing her child suffer such a terrible fate.
Admin was finally triumphant in breaking my trance, and I rushed to my feet, stumbling before gaining my footing and bolting the fuck out of there. The childish giggling echoing out over the sky only served to push me forwards and away from that place.
“What the fuck is going on?!” I yelped, glancing over to Admin, hoping they could offer just the slightest of explanations.
“I have an idea, but we need to get somewhere first. You see that hill through the woods, right over there?”
“Hill? To the observatory?”
“There’s one last thing we can try to stop this. It’s a shot in the dark, but I can’t just stand here and fade away with the rest.”
High speed winds whipped the trees as we ran below them, leaves fluttering in a wild seizure. Air-splitting cracks sounded, so loud my ears began to ring once more, and I looked over my shoulder to see what they could have been.
Blazing spouts of fire shot down from the clouds behind, more akin to lightning than anything, striking the forsaken with white-hot temperatures. Even from a distance, I could see skin and flesh melt off of bones like candle wax, forming spiralling clouds of organic vapour.
In my distraction, I ran straight into a tree, and tumbled over, blood leaking from a small cut on my forehead. Admin skidded to a stop and pulled me up to my feet, and ran onwards, not waiting for a moment to ask if I was okay.
Neither of us were okay. That was a given now.
We reached the top of the hill without too much effort – seems it was programmed for everyone to have an above-average level of fitness, young or old regardless.
Admin frantically, but methodically, sifted through what appeared to be a large hoop of keys, searching for the one to fit the observatory’s door. I looked back over to where we had fled from.
The twisted buildings coiled toward the sky, gargantuan talons holding captive everyone I’d ever known. But there was something else. Far behind the city, in the distant hills and woodland, a great black wave that spanned the horizon was travelling towards us, eviscerating the world itself. All it left behind was an endless chasm of darkness, defying reality itself.
The tsunami came closer, before stopping at the city’s outskirts, leaving only a towering earthen spire of suffering, flaming bolts cracking down upon it.
“Admin, what is going on?!”
They paused for a moment, then continued working on the several locks barring our entry.
“Do you remember what I told you earlier, when you found me? How this system is able to keep on running, over the trillions of years?”
“…ions?”
“Yes, but that’s only the basis. I told you that emotional activity generates power, yes? The more intense an emotion, the more power generated?”
“What are you getting at?”
“This is pure theory, but I believe that whatever is out there is feeding off of the system.”
“Is that why all that was happening? The-“
I stifled a gag, recalling the horrors fresh in my memory.
“Again, it’s a theory. I don’t understand what it is. If the constraints of the universe are loose enough for something to evolve in its endless darkness, to predate on the last sources of energy within it… I don’t know. And I doubt we ever will.”
I stared out at the hellscape, speechless. Finally, Admin found the right key, yanked the door open, and pulled me inside by the arm.
“Hey!” Admin yelled, snapping their fingers, “I need you to be present for this. I am restricted in this world, I can’t break and reform things like you can. A failsafe, for if the power were to go to my head. Follow my instructions exactly.”
They told me how to break apart some of the technology in the observatory, and rewire it into a different machine. I had no idea what we were creating at the time, but complied nonetheless.
The finished product was a makeshift beacon of some kind, connected to the nearby terminal.
“Thank you. Now, type.”
“Type what?”
“Everything that has happened. Add as many details as you can, because we won’t have another chance to get this out there.”
“O-okay, what is this thing? A radio?”
“In a way. The observatory is one of the only places here that has a connection to the outside. I have used it more than once to observe the universe fading away. This setup will send our transmission as a unique, superluminal type of wave. Hurry, we can’t waste time chatting about this.”
And so, here we are. I don’t know who will be hearing this, if anyone at all.
I beg of you, consider how our advancements might be our downfall.
It’s almost here. I can hear the flaming bolts striking the forest, closer.
This is my account. Please save us. Please spare us.
Don’t condemn us as you have.
[TRANSCRIPT END]
There it is. I’ve revised the translation more times than I can count, and I’m sure there’s no mistake here.
Other readings imply that this message has travelled an unimaginably vast distance, and not only over space. Repeated triangulation only tells me this came from above, somewhere far away, among the stars.
I can feel the edges of my mind singeing. This can’t be proven as truth, nor can it be discredited. There’s no possible way to explain how this message came from our own planet.
I’m trying to be rational, but I think we need to consider future development very carefully. As a people, we have always rushed through our technological advancements at an incredible speed, not stopping to consider all the consequences that might follow.
If anyone will believe this, please spread it around. I have no doubt this post will be taken down the moment they find it. As for myself, I’ll be disgraced, probably. Stuck in a cold cell, most likely.
Spread the word. The fact that the higher-ups will attempt to conceal this is a cruel thing indeed, if any of it’s true.
Signing off.
submitted by rephlexi0n to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]
Keeping this hidden would be a crime against humanity of the highest order. You all deserve to know, as terrible as it is.
I work at an unnamed technological research company as, you guessed it, a researcher. In recent years, we’ve made astonishing advancements in developing technology that can interact with and harness tachyons.
Tachyons are particles that travel faster than light; that’s the most important part. They’ve been a subject of theoretical physics since the late 60s, but as far as public knowledge goes, they’re still just that. Theoretical.
But they are most certainly real. Well, not “tachyons” per se, though their behaviour is equatable. I won’t bore you with the technicalities, but the result of a particle travelling faster than light is that said particle is able to, effectively, travel backwards in time.
My other group members and I have been experimenting with these particles for the best part of two years now. We’ve made major advances, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about.
Yesterday, 23/03/2023, at 09:07 am, my equipment detected a tachyon signal. This was in the morning, mind you, and no tests had yet been carried out. From what I can tell, this signal originated – or, rather, will originate – from elsewhere.
Playing it out loud, it at first just sounded like a garbled mess of frequencies. But after observing the audio structure, I found it to be made up of thousands of tones, of which there were only two types – long, and short.
The realisation hit pretty quick. It was Morse code, or, at least, it could be interpreted as such. The most fundamental form of digital communication known to man. So, I ran it through an auto-interpreter a few times, and got a fully coherent message.
I refuse to believe that I’m seeing patterns where there are none. The chances are so astronomically low that I can’t feasibly consider it to be a random signal, especially considering I’ve never received one from somewhere outside the lab.
I’m going to copy over the translation here. I do not wish to instil panic, but please, spread this post. People need to be aware that this is a real possibility.
To whomever is reading this, prepare yourself.
Here it is.
[TRANSCRIPT BEGIN]
Hi.
My name is Tim Hermelle. Before I write down this account, I should insist that this is the truth. This is happening to us all right now. This is not a joke, prank, or an interactive project.
This is the truth. You HAVE to believe what you are about to read, for our sakes.
Okay, with that out of the way… shit, it’s getting closer. I’ll write down what I can before we’re pulled back to the city, to join the others. I hope enough context is given in my account for you to fully understand.
I live - lived - in the great city of Pharades (that’s Pha-ra-dees). The utopia of humanity’s future. Life was amazing. Every aspect brought joy and satisfaction to every person. No hunger, thirst, no overpopulation, pollution… a Nirvana if there ever was. The level of advancement may be difficult for some of you to believe
Work was optional, and automatons would fill the spaces left by those choosing to pursue their own personal dreams. Even so, a large number of people here still choose to have jobs, vocations I suppose. Healthcare was unparalleled, and not one person has died during my time here.
Everything major was decided by a vote. It was the perfect democratic system, but I’m no politician, so I wouldn’t be able to explain to you why that is.
Hell, we even had a collective vote to decide the next week’s weather every Sunday. That’s right, we’d taken control of the weather. Want to splash around in puddles, smelling the petrichor? Maybe get a tan on? You’d just have to go and vote for it.
Pharades was, without hyperbole, fucking beautiful. In between the city blocks, there were great swathes of woodland and meadows. Crystal rivers flowed underneath silver bridges, and leaves of every colour painted the landscape like polka dots.
And the city itself, well, they say nature trumps anything manmade in terms of beauty, but I disagree. The intricately designed towers were accented by all the most complementary colours, gold, chrome, red, blue, any combination you could imagine, it was here. Arches, spirals, and patterns of every variety adorned the structures.
The day in question was a Wednesday – not that days of the week held any particular significance anymore. I’d planned to meet with two of my buddies, Erin and Tuan, at our favourite coffee shop a couple of districts over, in the Wantania area.
Historically, the journey may have been arduous, or frustrating. Not now. Most people didn’t even use vehicles anymore – instead, the city had built a vast underground network of ever-shifting and rearranging tracks, called “Tubyrinth”. Each person owned a personal pod of sorts, customisable to any degree.
I input Wantania Central, and hopped inside. My pod contained a sofa and a minifridge, stocked up with my favourite drinks. The journey was always snappy. Each time, the underground superstructure would arrange a new and unique track to be used, direct to a reserved bay.
Just fifteen minutes later, I was stood under the vaulted, ornamental expanse of the station roof, a hundred or so feet above. I always stopped here to just stare upwards for a moment, absorbing the imaginative architecture.
After exiting the station, I was surprised to see that both Erin and Tuan were already waiting for me outside. The good kind of surprised, that slaps a goofy smile onto your face.
“Took you long enough!” Tuan chuckled, finding the irony in his own words hilarious.
“God, I know right?” added Erin, “I was worried I’d need crutches after standing out here waiting!”
“Well, heh, you’re not gonna like this next part,” I joked, and we set off down the street, laughing. Our favourite café was called “Beansmith’s Forge”. It was a cheesy, but endearing name, and the theme fit the three of us like a glove; as I said before, we’d been working on worldbuilding for our fantasy RPG, an immersive neurolink VR experience, where the player could design their own character and have a unique questline auto-generated out of a complex system.
We ordered brunch, and, of course, coffee. I won’t get into the details of our talks, but we quickly finished up, paid, and set off down Gerben Street.
The more exciting event of the day was our session booked at the aptly named Noji Box, something you could call an “anti-grav playground”. Admittedly, I’ve never fully known how it works, just that it involves paired wormholes, immensely powerful electromagnets, and a huge vacuum-chamber.
One thing I was always grateful for was that the automatons, who I saw working robotically through storefront windows, were withheld any accurate human likeness – I’m sure you’ve heard of the uncanny valley, so you’ll know what I mean. They fell just short of it.
All was calm on the walk, as to be expected. We made it to the Noji Box in good time, ten minutes before our session booking. I get it’s company policy to take everyone through the safety basics, but it was admittedly a little boring after many, many past visits.
The only real requirement was that you’d have to wear an “osteopatic suit”. No, osteostatic? Something about keeping your bones from floating away from each other, or from disappearing over time.
We were suited up, ready to enter “S.S. Slamdown”, when a sudden tremor shook the building’s foundations. Everyone shared the same puzzled expression – not once had something like that ever happened in Pharades.
The staff looked a bit stumped at first. I guess they never had to deal with a situation like this in the past. To our dismay, but unsurprisingly, our session was cancelled, and we were told that they would call us later to sort out a re-booking.
I had the strangest feeling when we left and began back down the road. Something similar to déjà vu, but not quite. Like nostalgia, but without the accompanying feeling of reminiscence or joy.
Trying to brush it off, I distracted my mind by humming a tune. I didn’t know what it was from, at the time, but I knew it was a stringed melody. A violin? Thing is, I wasn’t really humming it as much as hearing it in my head.
We rounded a corner, and Erin paused in surprise.
“Oh, that’s… hey, that’s Jeremiah! He’s been playing that fiddle the street over from mine for the past, what, two weeks? Come on, let’s go listen.”
I grew confused when we approached, only to hear the exact same melody that had just been looping in my head. Before I’d heard this guy playing. I don’t remember stumbling upon this particular street performer before this point.
We stood listening for a few minutes, then continued our walk. Thoughts no longer infested with that tune, I was hit with what I can only describe as a taste. The savoury taste of something on my tongue, complete with mustard and relish. Meat of some kind?
The concern started to flourish when we came upon a food truck, and Tuan asked if we were hungry. Sure, we’d just eaten at the coffee shop, but I could fit in one more tasty bite. He offered to pay, which we gladly accepted, and he returned with… hotdogs. With mustard. And relish.
My gratitude masked the ever-growing confusion within me. Was this just a weird coincidence, or something else? Did I know we were going to get hotdogs?
We wound up back at the station, where a feeling of detached sorrow welled up inside me, something you might feel after recalling a bad memory from which you’ve since recovered. I understood then that I would run into my on-good-terms ex inside. But, before we could enter, another rumbling tremor swept across the street, followed by the clamour of destruction and screams from inside.
A grey dust cloud plumed out from the entrance, sweeping us off of our feet. I saw Erin flipped face-first into the pavement, just as I caught my heel on the base of a stop sign. Yet another quake boomed underneath the asphalt.
The asphalt I was falling down onto… but the impact didn’t come. Instead of a hard surface, the sensation of falling went on. You know that feeling when you think there’s another step at the bottom of the stairs, only to find the floor instead? It was just like that.
The ground I fell upon wasn’t asphalt. It rang out as I collided, almost hollow-sounding. Metallic. Maybe it was just my head ringing, but without a doubt, I was not in the street anymore.
I sat up, and my palms confirmed I was on a metal floor, the kind with those diamond-shaped grips. Looking around almost caused a complete sensory overload, immediately. A multitude of flashing lights, screens, wires, buttons, and all sorts decorated the room. It looked not far off from the control room of an intelligence agency – at least, how they’re depicted in movies.
I got onto one knee and pivoted to look around. The tall man standing directly behind me almost led to a second fall, but instead I scooted backward frantically at the sight.
The man – well, I say “man”, but this person didn’t really have any distinguishing features. They were wearing a spotless black and white cloak of some kind, and a metal cage covering the upper half of their face, so that only their mouth was visible.
They stood still, not reacting to my show of surprise, then spoke in the most androgynous voice conceivable.
“How did you get in here?”
I scanned the room, finding that there were no obvious entrances anywhere around, like we were inside a closed-off box.
“I- uh, I fell over, a-and next thing I know – here,” I stuttered.
“Well, you shouldn’t be here, and there’s no way that you should be able to get here.”
I stood up, feeling a little more comfortable in the presence of this stranger, though not letting my guard down entirely. Now, I could see the pictures displayed across the screens – they seemed to be feeds of countless locations in Pharades, streets, woodlands, you name it.
“What… what the hell’s going on here? Who are you? Why are you spying on the city?”
The stranger didn’t seem amused, being pelted with questions, and held up a hand, gesturing me to stop. They let out a deep, held breath.
“Well, since you’re here, I may as well enlighten you. Take a seat.”
So I did. I sat in shock and disbelief for the next five minutes as the person answered all my questions, even the ones I didn’t know I wanted to ask. They introduced themselves simply as “Administrator”, but I chose “Admin”, to avoid the mouthful.
Admin proceeded to tell me the truth, as casually as one would talk about the weather.
It wasn’t real.
A simulation.
They told me we were inside a highly advanced, self-sustaining, supercomputer pod travelling through deep space, harvesting energy from ions extracted from the surrounding vacuum. Over a hundred trillion years ago, those living here now consented in having their consciousness imported to the device.
On top of the ion harvesting, power was supposedly generated from emotions experienced by a consciousness – the more intense an emotion or feeling, the more power generated.
I interrupted the monologue at this point with a question they hadn’t seemed to consider,
“Let’s say I believe what you’re saying. If this system’s been up for as long as you say, why did I only just have my 29th birthday, what, two months back now?”
“I understand your concern, but allow me to continue. Every 50 years, it is reset. All your memories are wiped and locked away until the moments when you would again make those memories. There are only a set number of people who were uploaded to the system, and their minds cannot simply be deleted if they were to die.”
Not only a simulation, but an endless loop? My brain felt like it might burst.
“Wait,” I said, “if we’re reset every time, and everything plays out the same… then, we can’t possibly have any free will of our own, right?”
“I suppose you could say that. But the illusion we, I, have worked tirelessly to maintain, gives the impression that you do.”
“Wh… what? So, the original me signed up for this? But I’m not him! I’m a copy, aren’t I? Do I have a choice in this?”
“There is no way for me to erase any person that lives here. Only if the pod itself is damaged or destroyed, can I, or anyone else, truly die. The Great Stellar Extinction has come and gone, and all that remains outside is cold, and dark. A handful of black and brown dwarves, and black holes. To my knowledge.”
The sudden feeling of intense, hollow loneliness filled up my chest. We were alone in a great black sea of nothingness. My slack jaw must have told Admin I didn’t have the capacity to speak.
“Over time, I have lost contact with the hundreds of thousands of other pods that were ejected from Earth all that time ago. Either they are too far now, or they met a destructive end. I can’t say which is the better, anymore.”
Absorbing the sudden truth, the emptiness evolved into anger.
“Let me get this straight. We, living our lives down there, are puppets to you? Is that it? Just an endless cycle of digital paradise, kept in the dark of all you’ve just told me? How can you possibly justify this?!”
“Calm down. Having your memories wiped is a luxury I cannot afford. Anyway, that’s only the preface of what I need to talk about. I’m sure you also noticed the tremors, down there?”
“The tremors? Oh, oh yeah. Sort of ruined my plans, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.”
“I didn’t do anything. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Whatever the cause, it’s not within this pod.”
I took it all in. A system malfunction? Why did the Admin feel the need to share this with me?
“Is… is that why, maybe, that I could predict some of the things that happened afterwards?”
“It’s worse than I thought. The memory suppression seems to be failing.”
Both of us paused for a moment. The silence was deafening.
“I’ve been taking readings on the external sensors. There’s… something out there. An object. It’s been following us for a while now, but with no starlight left, I don’t know what it is. Space debris couldn’t move on its own accord like this thing is.”
“What are you trying to say?” I sputtered, the dread I felt deepening by the second.
“I’m saying that something has found us.”
My blood ran cold. Found us? What could have found us?
“Didn’t you say all the stars are dead? The universe is just darkness now. What could have found us? What?”
“I wish I had the answers, too. I don’t think we’re safe anymore. The most recent readings imply that whatever it is, it’s latched onto the pod somehow. Possibly-“
Admin was cut off by the loud screech of static from the speakers around the room. Their head shot up to the nearest corner in a manner that set me on a knife’s edge.
The tremors returned with a vengeance now, and the both of us were sent sprawling onto the floor. I didn’t fall through it this time, though. Sparks flew and monitors went offline.
I was about to ask what we should do, when the roaring static settled, and something else started to play.
An innocent, childlike giggle. Gurgled coos, infantile squeals of joy that pierced my eardrums like needles and left them ringing. Remembering the sounds that came from those speakers make my insides twist and yearn to escape my body, knowing what came next.
The laughter grew, and so did the tremors. The room started to collapse, wires and boxes raining down upon us. Well, not really collapse, no, but change. The far wall crumpled, like something on the other side assailed it with forceful impacts, and the room began to shrink.
As if that dark place wasn’t claustrophobic enough, the ceiling, walls, everything began to close in on us. All the while, the childlike giggling only grew in joy. I thought we were to be crushed and snapped by the pressure, when we were abruptly freed.
It had happened again. Pushed through the floor and spat out somewhere else. This time, I – we – found ourselves near a paved road leading out of one of the city blocks, into a green meadow which gave way to trees a ways down.
Something was terribly wrong. Only after brushing myself off and standing up did I become aware of the swirling darkness that replaced the once baby-blue sky, with its cotton candy clouds. A heavy and unsettling calm had fallen upon us, dampening the city’s brilliance. No more did sunlight gleam off the ornate spires and arches, replaced by a still, hanging shadow.
The eerie quiet was shattered by that godforsaken crackling, booming across the landscape, despite not a speaker in sight, again followed by those ill-belonging coos and cries. Accompanying the infantile sputtering came an uproar of cracking and crumbling, great impacts from deep within the city’s heart.
Both Admin and I stared in disbelief as distant buildings sunk into the ground, while others twisted and warped their way into the sky, as if made from soft clay. Some just disappeared entirely, leaving not a shred of evidence behind that they had ever been there, while their former inhabitants plunged from storeys above.
“It’s taken my place.”
Those four unprompted words shook me to the core of my being. The god of this world had been usurped.
“But why?” I found myself asking, “with what motive?”
Admin went to reply, but stopped upon seeing the great, pinkish masses floating up out of the streets, far ahead. We stared in bewilderment, trying to make out what they were. The chorus of screams hurried us to the realisation that the balls were… they were made of people.
Agonised, howling faces littered the fleshy abominations, while more objects rose around them. Structural beams, signposts, metal objects of every kind gravitated toward the amalgams of humanity, before their relentless assaults began.
Ripping, tearing, stabbing, slicing… it was already too much for my mind to comprehend. It garnered no reaction from myself other than stunned shock. Flesh and blood spewed from the masses, and orbited around them like the rings of Saturn, falling back in to haphazardly patch themselves back onto the wailing people.
My thoughtless attention was redirected as a frantic deluge of citizens fled the city, running down the street towards us. One by one, the exodus was halted, people seeming to stop in place abruptly, though the screams did not relent.
I couldn’t see what had stopped them until the crowd drew closer, where I saw an elderly man whip forward, foot stuck fast, instantly snapping his knee from the momentum. He let out a heart-wrenching cry as he fell down and looked to see what had stopped him.
Something that looked like roots, water pipes maybe, had erupted through the tarmac and coiled their way up his leg. I could see the strength draining in his eyes as they stood him back upright by force, wrapping around his entire body.
I watched in abject horror as he was raised off the ground, and each and every one of the old man’s limbs were bent and snapped at unnatural angles, shattering frail bones into dust.
His feeble cries were promptly silenced as a squirming metal tube forced its way inside his mouth, his eyes rolling back in unfathomable agony as the bulging mass forced its way down his throat, splitting his ribcage apart and allowing the organs within to slop out and float in the air, as if weightless. The whole process seemed to reverse itself in time, then repeat, over and over.
I could only hear the echoes of Admin’s shouts and the faint sensation of their grip on my forearm as they pulled me away from the mind-bending atrocity. My vacant body tumbled backward, sending both of us falling onto the grass.
Still I could only sit there, frozen. Somewhere off to the right, I saw a young woman pulling presumably her daughter along by the wrist, fleeing the hellscape of flesh and bone down a small alley. Her head spun wildly as she noticed the walls of the alleyway closing in around them.
She burst out into the open, but was yanked back, her grip fast. She turned in desperation, only to see her daughter, who couldn’t have been more than seven, being slowly crushed into a paste of bloody flesh and yellow fat. Her pitiful screams still ring in my ears, seeing her child suffer such a terrible fate.
Admin was finally triumphant in breaking my trance, and I rushed to my feet, stumbling before gaining my footing and bolting the fuck out of there. The childish giggling echoing out over the sky only served to push me forwards and away from that place.
“What the fuck is going on?!” I yelped, glancing over to Admin, hoping they could offer just the slightest of explanations.
“I have an idea, but we need to get somewhere first. You see that hill through the woods, right over there?”
“Hill? To the observatory?”
“There’s one last thing we can try to stop this. It’s a shot in the dark, but I can’t just stand here and fade away with the rest.”
High speed winds whipped the trees as we ran below them, leaves fluttering in a wild seizure. Air-splitting cracks sounded, so loud my ears began to ring once more, and I looked over my shoulder to see what they could have been.
Blazing spouts of fire shot down from the clouds behind, more akin to lightning than anything, striking the forsaken with white-hot temperatures. Even from a distance, I could see skin and flesh melt off of bones like candle wax, forming spiralling clouds of organic vapour.
In my distraction, I ran straight into a tree, and tumbled over, blood leaking from a small cut on my forehead. Admin skidded to a stop and pulled me up to my feet, and ran onwards, not waiting for a moment to ask if I was okay.
Neither of us were okay. That was a given now.
We reached the top of the hill without too much effort – seems it was programmed for everyone to have an above-average level of fitness, young or old regardless.
Admin frantically, but methodically, sifted through what appeared to be a large hoop of keys, searching for the one to fit the observatory’s door. I looked back over to where we had fled from.
The twisted buildings coiled toward the sky, gargantuan talons holding captive everyone I’d ever known. But there was something else. Far behind the city, in the distant hills and woodland, a great black wave that spanned the horizon was travelling towards us, eviscerating the world itself. All it left behind was an endless chasm of darkness, defying reality itself.
The tsunami came closer, before stopping at the city’s outskirts, leaving only a towering earthen spire of suffering, flaming bolts cracking down upon it.
“Admin, what is going on?!”
They paused for a moment, then continued working on the several locks barring our entry.
“Do you remember what I told you earlier, when you found me? How this system is able to keep on running, over the trillions of years?”
“…ions?”
“Yes, but that’s only the basis. I told you that emotional activity generates power, yes? The more intense an emotion, the more power generated?”
“What are you getting at?”
“This is pure theory, but I believe that whatever is out there is feeding off of the system.”
“Is that why all that was happening? The-“
I stifled a gag, recalling the horrors fresh in my memory.
“Again, it’s a theory. I don’t understand what it is. If the constraints of the universe are loose enough for something to evolve in its endless darkness, to predate on the last sources of energy within it… I don’t know. And I doubt we ever will.”
I stared out at the hellscape, speechless. Finally, Admin found the right key, yanked the door open, and pulled me inside by the arm.
“Hey!” Admin yelled, snapping their fingers, “I need you to be present for this. I am restricted in this world, I can’t break and reform things like you can. A failsafe, for if the power were to go to my head. Follow my instructions exactly.”
They told me how to break apart some of the technology in the observatory, and rewire it into a different machine. I had no idea what we were creating at the time, but complied nonetheless.
The finished product was a makeshift beacon of some kind, connected to the nearby terminal.
“Thank you. Now, type.”
“Type what?”
“Everything that has happened. Add as many details as you can, because we won’t have another chance to get this out there.”
“O-okay, what is this thing? A radio?”
“In a way. The observatory is one of the only places here that has a connection to the outside. I have used it more than once to observe the universe fading away. This setup will send our transmission as a unique, superluminal type of wave. Hurry, we can’t waste time chatting about this.”
And so, here we are. I don’t know who will be hearing this, if anyone at all.
I beg of you, consider how our advancements might be our downfall.
It’s almost here. I can hear the flaming bolts striking the forest, closer.
This is my account. Please save us. Please spare us.
Don’t condemn us as you have.
[TRANSCRIPT END]
There it is. I’ve revised the translation more times than I can count, and I’m sure there’s no mistake here.
Other readings imply that this message has travelled an unimaginably vast distance, and not only over space. Repeated triangulation only tells me this came from above, somewhere far away, among the stars.
I can feel the edges of my mind singeing. This can’t be proven as truth, nor can it be discredited. There’s no possible way to explain how this message came from our own planet.
I’m trying to be rational, but I think we need to consider future development very carefully. As a people, we have always rushed through our technological advancements at an incredible speed, not stopping to consider all the consequences that might follow.
If anyone will believe this, please spread it around. I have no doubt this post will be taken down the moment they find it. As for myself, I’ll be disgraced, probably. Stuck in a cold cell, most likely.
Spread the word. The fact that the higher-ups will attempt to conceal this is a cruel thing indeed, if any of it’s true.
Signing off.
2023.03.24 14:14 PritchettRobert506 [HIRING] 25 Jobs in MA Hiring Now!
2023.03.24 14:13 Thermal-Outlaw Minister Of Foreign Affairs Lied
 | submitted by Thermal-Outlaw to BahamasIssues [link] [comments] |
2023.03.24 14:13 Thermal-Outlaw Minister Of Foreign Affairs Lied
| | submitted by Thermal-Outlaw to bahamas [link] [comments] |
2023.03.24 14:12 Thermal-Outlaw Minister Of Foreign Affairs Lied
| | This was a letter going around as of yesterday. The information in this is a lie. You can go back an watch the events of this day spoken about. The Bahamas needs to be purged. The government is oppressing the people of the land daily. Bahamians last in a country they should be first. submitted by Thermal-Outlaw to BahamasHiddenSecrets [link] [comments] |
2023.03.24 14:08 Yarus43 I want this game to be "bigger"
Bigger isn't necessarily better Not in the map sense, I actually would be happy if this game was smaller than fo4 or Skyrim. I'm talking let's gets a smaller map that encompasses one province. I hope they don't do two provinces because that either entails watering down cities and less development time on what I thinks more important. Alot of people are thinking the game will take place in both provinces of high rock and hammerfell, I would personally prefer a focus on hammerfell itself, with small regions of high rock or maybe elsweyr. I think the illiac bay would be best because the geographical variety would be dope. I didn't like Skyrim and oblivions lack of big islands to swim or catch a boat to. There's volikhar that's it. In Morrowind I thought it was awesome to go to sheogorad and adventure. I felt like a pioneer mucking about.
Design Philosophy
Another thing, I would prefer if the design philosophy of Skyrim would be gone as a whole. What I mean is no matter where you're standing on the map there's a dungeon or ruin 20 meters in every direction. It really feels like this world is manufactured for us the player rather than something that naturally formed over time. In Morrowind, egg mines were near settlements, as were most tombs. Daedric ruins for the most part are out of the way or in secret places (shrines in vivecs sewers we're awesome). Dwemer ruins were mostly forts taking up areas that control travel or overlooking important areas (makes sense considering the dwemer we're at war and also subterranean so making surface settlements at strategic areas makes sense). When there is a settlement in Skyrim don't make it because the area is empty and needs people, think about what does this village or town need, is there a mine or special export? Skyrim did this a bit with mining towns. Also don't be afraid to just make large swathes of area with fewer towns at equal distance. Let me explore a frontier, a desert that separates hammerfell. It could make travel interesting. Real cities don't form in every territory because we need one. The Midwest in the US is far less populated because theres not as much coast line. I think changing the design philosophy could make the game feel much larger than Skyrim without a physically bigger map.
Cities
Kind of cementing more of the same, one thing I do want actually bigger? Cities. And I want them open. There's concerns that doing this will hamper cpu and cause framerate loss. I think if the world is built by the devs to be open it will be negligible. The problem with modding skyrims cities to open is they are not meant to be from the get go. Npc's in Bethesda games are not generic actors, they all have special stats and skills like the player. By opening up cities you make them feel more apart of the world. If you need heavy cpu performance in an area with high npc's, I'd say the best way to do this is just put them in an interior cell. What do I mean? Make a market with an interior for vendor npc's. I don't think this should be necessary if done right but it's a solution. Also if we want high amounts of people walking around, the devs could make a secondary type of npc. One that doesn't have all the states and attributes of normal actors. Theres a lot of games I'm having issues thinking of, that use crowds of people more like a object where people you engage with are more personal. I don't know if this is the best idea because tes games have become very dependent on interpersonal npc's.
Npc's
Speaking of which, I don't want Bethesda to just make the npc's have a even higher amount of scheduled tasks. The novelty of it sounds cool, but to me in Skyrim I never really noticed so and so npc chopping wood at a certain hour, or going somewhere at a certain time. If it's a must, make them do things that we'll notice. I think oblivion has an NPC that paints at a certain time of day and I find that adds to the game because it's noticeable. It's like rdr2s horse testicle shrinkage. Yeah it's interesting that you went into that much detail but the majority of people aren't going to notice and it won't really effect gameplay or add to the game. It will take people from development when they could flesh out other aspects.
Factions/People
I want multiple factions, one of my favorite things in tes3 was being able to join not only a mage, fighter, and assassins guild but variations, and also the local political entity. I want hammerfell to have a fighters guild and a different more local version of one, hell if I could eat my cake too id like three. I can already see it now, you got just straight up fighters guild, then you got a guild that is more in tune with the provinces culture and beliefs (sorta how the companions were in Skyrim). Maybe there's another guild thats more of an honourable knighthood in the north near the border with high rock. Get that intermixing of culture, while redguards and Bretons might not always get along maybe a local mercenary or lord descended from Bretons sponsors the guild. The potential is limitless.
What I don't want is to always focus on a greater narrative of previous guilds. The dark brotherhood for example is cool, and I hope they're still around but I don't want them to always be the "big" assassin group. Groups lose power and get displaced. Look at the Morag tong, they themselves kinda got displaced momentarily by the dark brotherhood. These organizations are full of people with ideas and ambition, having a stale never changing roster limits the story telling of these factions.
Make it weirder
One of Tes's biggest strengths is its wierd lore. The dwemer may have become the numidiums skin. The world is a dream by a giant sleeping god head. Vivec has a dick spear. Sotha sil made clockwork nirn. The falmer are advancing in a wierd subterranean way, black reach is a giant world under Skyrim with completely different flora. Argonians are tree robots, altmer are Hapsburg, perfectionist, nazi elves. The bosmer are Tolkien's wood elves with a neat twist, they love plants so fucking much they only eat meat, and YOU. Khajiit rely on the moon for their anatomy...etc. Something Skyrim did well was black reach, but it felt like it could've gone weirder. Let's have these snow whales, let's have nords worshiping shor and the old gods, half giants, wise men, naked barbarians that shout down walls, let's have imperials that live in a jungle with rice paddies and a wierd Chinese/Roman mix of culture. I want altmer to live in wierd glass dragonfly towers. The architecture and culture should differ from each city.
Whiterun for example, their sigil is a horse on a yellow background. Why? They don't seem to use horses or cavalry, atleast not more than the rest of Skyrim. A nord from whiterun acts like a nord from riften or solitude. Solitude nords should be more imperialized, using nibbenese and Colovian fashions, while Windhelm should be staunch traditionalists. If white run is based off edoras make it so they're renowned cavalry (it would make even more sense why they're a big player in the war). Dawnstar raids and pillages like vikings, riften is full of warriors who have are honorable and full of experience from skirmishes on the Morrowind border, they contrast to the underway and it's numerous criminals like the thieves or the corrupt black briars. Adds tension and intrigue. What we got was "this is the thief city now give me gold or you can't get into city, also the thieves guild don't exist despite like 20 of their members walking around looking for extortion everyday".
Just take everything I said and apply it to a new game. Hammerfell should be a very unique place with very diverse culture and people across it's world.
Sorry if sounded like a morrowboomer, just the game I had as a good reference.
submitted by Yarus43 to nextelderscrolls [link] [comments]
Design Philosophy
Another thing, I would prefer if the design philosophy of Skyrim would be gone as a whole. What I mean is no matter where you're standing on the map there's a dungeon or ruin 20 meters in every direction. It really feels like this world is manufactured for us the player rather than something that naturally formed over time. In Morrowind, egg mines were near settlements, as were most tombs. Daedric ruins for the most part are out of the way or in secret places (shrines in vivecs sewers we're awesome). Dwemer ruins were mostly forts taking up areas that control travel or overlooking important areas (makes sense considering the dwemer we're at war and also subterranean so making surface settlements at strategic areas makes sense). When there is a settlement in Skyrim don't make it because the area is empty and needs people, think about what does this village or town need, is there a mine or special export? Skyrim did this a bit with mining towns. Also don't be afraid to just make large swathes of area with fewer towns at equal distance. Let me explore a frontier, a desert that separates hammerfell. It could make travel interesting. Real cities don't form in every territory because we need one. The Midwest in the US is far less populated because theres not as much coast line. I think changing the design philosophy could make the game feel much larger than Skyrim without a physically bigger map.
Cities
Kind of cementing more of the same, one thing I do want actually bigger? Cities. And I want them open. There's concerns that doing this will hamper cpu and cause framerate loss. I think if the world is built by the devs to be open it will be negligible. The problem with modding skyrims cities to open is they are not meant to be from the get go. Npc's in Bethesda games are not generic actors, they all have special stats and skills like the player. By opening up cities you make them feel more apart of the world. If you need heavy cpu performance in an area with high npc's, I'd say the best way to do this is just put them in an interior cell. What do I mean? Make a market with an interior for vendor npc's. I don't think this should be necessary if done right but it's a solution. Also if we want high amounts of people walking around, the devs could make a secondary type of npc. One that doesn't have all the states and attributes of normal actors. Theres a lot of games I'm having issues thinking of, that use crowds of people more like a object where people you engage with are more personal. I don't know if this is the best idea because tes games have become very dependent on interpersonal npc's.
Npc's
Speaking of which, I don't want Bethesda to just make the npc's have a even higher amount of scheduled tasks. The novelty of it sounds cool, but to me in Skyrim I never really noticed so and so npc chopping wood at a certain hour, or going somewhere at a certain time. If it's a must, make them do things that we'll notice. I think oblivion has an NPC that paints at a certain time of day and I find that adds to the game because it's noticeable. It's like rdr2s horse testicle shrinkage. Yeah it's interesting that you went into that much detail but the majority of people aren't going to notice and it won't really effect gameplay or add to the game. It will take people from development when they could flesh out other aspects.
Factions/People
I want multiple factions, one of my favorite things in tes3 was being able to join not only a mage, fighter, and assassins guild but variations, and also the local political entity. I want hammerfell to have a fighters guild and a different more local version of one, hell if I could eat my cake too id like three. I can already see it now, you got just straight up fighters guild, then you got a guild that is more in tune with the provinces culture and beliefs (sorta how the companions were in Skyrim). Maybe there's another guild thats more of an honourable knighthood in the north near the border with high rock. Get that intermixing of culture, while redguards and Bretons might not always get along maybe a local mercenary or lord descended from Bretons sponsors the guild. The potential is limitless.
What I don't want is to always focus on a greater narrative of previous guilds. The dark brotherhood for example is cool, and I hope they're still around but I don't want them to always be the "big" assassin group. Groups lose power and get displaced. Look at the Morag tong, they themselves kinda got displaced momentarily by the dark brotherhood. These organizations are full of people with ideas and ambition, having a stale never changing roster limits the story telling of these factions.
Make it weirder
One of Tes's biggest strengths is its wierd lore. The dwemer may have become the numidiums skin. The world is a dream by a giant sleeping god head. Vivec has a dick spear. Sotha sil made clockwork nirn. The falmer are advancing in a wierd subterranean way, black reach is a giant world under Skyrim with completely different flora. Argonians are tree robots, altmer are Hapsburg, perfectionist, nazi elves. The bosmer are Tolkien's wood elves with a neat twist, they love plants so fucking much they only eat meat, and YOU. Khajiit rely on the moon for their anatomy...etc. Something Skyrim did well was black reach, but it felt like it could've gone weirder. Let's have these snow whales, let's have nords worshiping shor and the old gods, half giants, wise men, naked barbarians that shout down walls, let's have imperials that live in a jungle with rice paddies and a wierd Chinese/Roman mix of culture. I want altmer to live in wierd glass dragonfly towers. The architecture and culture should differ from each city.
Whiterun for example, their sigil is a horse on a yellow background. Why? They don't seem to use horses or cavalry, atleast not more than the rest of Skyrim. A nord from whiterun acts like a nord from riften or solitude. Solitude nords should be more imperialized, using nibbenese and Colovian fashions, while Windhelm should be staunch traditionalists. If white run is based off edoras make it so they're renowned cavalry (it would make even more sense why they're a big player in the war). Dawnstar raids and pillages like vikings, riften is full of warriors who have are honorable and full of experience from skirmishes on the Morrowind border, they contrast to the underway and it's numerous criminals like the thieves or the corrupt black briars. Adds tension and intrigue. What we got was "this is the thief city now give me gold or you can't get into city, also the thieves guild don't exist despite like 20 of their members walking around looking for extortion everyday".
Just take everything I said and apply it to a new game. Hammerfell should be a very unique place with very diverse culture and people across it's world.
Sorry if sounded like a morrowboomer, just the game I had as a good reference.
2023.03.24 14:05 new2thisNov2021 Anybody else have genetic diseases they never knew they had till too late?
I just read an article about chronic disease or illness fakers. I am thoroughly disgusted that even more people are more ignorant than I thought possible beyond my immediate family.
Right before the age of 40 I passed out waiting for a table at a nice restaurant, slowly drinking a beer. Luckily I had not been a heavy, medium, or even light drinker for almost 10 years. All I really had physically wrong with me at that time was testosterone therapy, come shoulder surgeries, and chronic,sometimes horrible pain. Oh, I was also told I had a great, really great bronze California tan.
After that incident right before age 40 I had every test I could have done to explain what happened. Witnesses said, im 6'3 195+ lbs, I just turned white, became instantly soaking wet, and fell straight backwards like a 2x4.
After all the tests were completed I discovered my Iron(its really called ferratin) was at a level of 3,900 (normal safe levels are 50 to 200 roughly. I was given a genetic test for hemachromatosis, which is pretty common, and not a super big deal when treated early. In fact, anyone with hemachromatosis cam firmly state that we people,all people, black, while, whatever are related. Black people have a genetic disease called sickle cell disease. If not treated and allowed to run rampart sickle cell turns into hemachromatosis. Nuff said.
The main treatment for hemachromatosis is bloodletting, the amount of blood you need to get out of your body and how much at a time and how often is usually dictated by the level of your ferritin in your blood at time of diagnosis. Most people, fortunately, get detected and treated by 700 to 1500 level of Ferratin. The body is basically killing itself, "rusting away" to say at levels if 1,000 plus of ferritin.
Now five leads later, testosterone implants every 3 months or so, bloodletting (phlebotomy) treatment 4 times a year now ( I started giving over 550 grams of blood 2 times a week for 4 months, and then once a week 4 or 5 months, and so on and on. I have had a pretty extensive cervical neck surgery, cages, holes drilled in arthritic areas and nerve openings opened up, both hips totally replaced, a knee replacement on left knee coming up soon, always a pain in my ass,, literally,, lol. There's other things, I have to get liver biopsies every year, heart tests performed every year, no alcohol, low Vtamin C diet, no more liver and onions, and reduced use of cast iron and other high iron cooking and eating utensils.
Thing is,, if you see me just see me, you'll see a big, strong, agile, balanced man. But what you dont see is how hard it is for me to just get up and drink a cup of coffee some mornings, or how bad both legs ache, hurt, throb, and sometimes especially feel totally exhausted 2 hours after I wake up. Or a serious neck, nerve issue that I just keep massaging and turning my head.
I don't take opiates, except after surgeries, I can't take much Tylenol or ibuprofen and related. Mostly ice pack/machine, heat pads, hot hot bath soaks, stretching (carefully), keeping moving, and pushing myself everyday or at least 6 days a week harder than the day before.
I have half siblings, 17+ years older than me, with bone spurs, maybe knee replacement, obesity related issues, lack of movement/ exercise issues, and on and on.
I'd happily trade places with them, but keep my age, and very few people I imagine get what I'm about to say next . I decided after the first 6 months of diagnosis I was going to "break and fall apart before I rusted and rotted away".
Do you get that? Understand ? I am happy, no I get exited and thrilled inside when I see people with obvious issues, obesity, laziness, bad diet, drinking, etc struggle, not do, or unwilling to do things they should do, much less want to do to make this life more,, make this life better for themselves. I say F' u all those ignorant dumb lazy scared people that say things, think things, act differently when they interact with you, not knowing you closely and really knowing you, when they see this person that looks, moves, and does lots of physical things better than they can,, and they think your faking or putting on or playing poor pity party me,,, no screw you guys,, try, literally walking 10,000 or more steps in my shoes each day and more, yet sometimes not able to even crawl or move for 2 or 3 hours after 4 or 5 or less some days just living life.
Anyone else have similar stories ? Or experiences? I still can't get over the fact that had a been a normal,, or whatever you call a person who drinks a six pack a week, alcoholic drinker I would definitely for sure have had cirrhosis or liver cancer by now for sure and probably be dead. Anyway,, let me know thanks.
P
submitted by new2thisNov2021 to hiddengeneticdiseases [link] [comments]
Right before the age of 40 I passed out waiting for a table at a nice restaurant, slowly drinking a beer. Luckily I had not been a heavy, medium, or even light drinker for almost 10 years. All I really had physically wrong with me at that time was testosterone therapy, come shoulder surgeries, and chronic,sometimes horrible pain. Oh, I was also told I had a great, really great bronze California tan.
After that incident right before age 40 I had every test I could have done to explain what happened. Witnesses said, im 6'3 195+ lbs, I just turned white, became instantly soaking wet, and fell straight backwards like a 2x4.
After all the tests were completed I discovered my Iron(its really called ferratin) was at a level of 3,900 (normal safe levels are 50 to 200 roughly. I was given a genetic test for hemachromatosis, which is pretty common, and not a super big deal when treated early. In fact, anyone with hemachromatosis cam firmly state that we people,all people, black, while, whatever are related. Black people have a genetic disease called sickle cell disease. If not treated and allowed to run rampart sickle cell turns into hemachromatosis. Nuff said.
The main treatment for hemachromatosis is bloodletting, the amount of blood you need to get out of your body and how much at a time and how often is usually dictated by the level of your ferritin in your blood at time of diagnosis. Most people, fortunately, get detected and treated by 700 to 1500 level of Ferratin. The body is basically killing itself, "rusting away" to say at levels if 1,000 plus of ferritin.
Now five leads later, testosterone implants every 3 months or so, bloodletting (phlebotomy) treatment 4 times a year now ( I started giving over 550 grams of blood 2 times a week for 4 months, and then once a week 4 or 5 months, and so on and on. I have had a pretty extensive cervical neck surgery, cages, holes drilled in arthritic areas and nerve openings opened up, both hips totally replaced, a knee replacement on left knee coming up soon, always a pain in my ass,, literally,, lol. There's other things, I have to get liver biopsies every year, heart tests performed every year, no alcohol, low Vtamin C diet, no more liver and onions, and reduced use of cast iron and other high iron cooking and eating utensils.
Thing is,, if you see me just see me, you'll see a big, strong, agile, balanced man. But what you dont see is how hard it is for me to just get up and drink a cup of coffee some mornings, or how bad both legs ache, hurt, throb, and sometimes especially feel totally exhausted 2 hours after I wake up. Or a serious neck, nerve issue that I just keep massaging and turning my head.
I don't take opiates, except after surgeries, I can't take much Tylenol or ibuprofen and related. Mostly ice pack/machine, heat pads, hot hot bath soaks, stretching (carefully), keeping moving, and pushing myself everyday or at least 6 days a week harder than the day before.
I have half siblings, 17+ years older than me, with bone spurs, maybe knee replacement, obesity related issues, lack of movement/ exercise issues, and on and on.
I'd happily trade places with them, but keep my age, and very few people I imagine get what I'm about to say next . I decided after the first 6 months of diagnosis I was going to "break and fall apart before I rusted and rotted away".
Do you get that? Understand ? I am happy, no I get exited and thrilled inside when I see people with obvious issues, obesity, laziness, bad diet, drinking, etc struggle, not do, or unwilling to do things they should do, much less want to do to make this life more,, make this life better for themselves. I say F' u all those ignorant dumb lazy scared people that say things, think things, act differently when they interact with you, not knowing you closely and really knowing you, when they see this person that looks, moves, and does lots of physical things better than they can,, and they think your faking or putting on or playing poor pity party me,,, no screw you guys,, try, literally walking 10,000 or more steps in my shoes each day and more, yet sometimes not able to even crawl or move for 2 or 3 hours after 4 or 5 or less some days just living life.
Anyone else have similar stories ? Or experiences? I still can't get over the fact that had a been a normal,, or whatever you call a person who drinks a six pack a week, alcoholic drinker I would definitely for sure have had cirrhosis or liver cancer by now for sure and probably be dead. Anyway,, let me know thanks.
P
2023.03.24 14:02 rephlexi0n Tachyons are real. But, god, I wish they weren't.
Let me start by saying I’m breaching contract by sharing this. If the company’s lookouts link this post to me – which they will – I’ll be disgraced, and any chance at getting a job in this profession again will be out of the picture. I have the common sense to keep my name unknown, but all that’s gonna do is slow them down.
Keeping this hidden would be a crime against humanity of the highest order. You all deserve to know, as terrible as it is.
I work at an unnamed technological research company as, you guessed it, a researcher. In recent years, we’ve made astonishing advancements in developing technology that can interact with and harness tachyons.
Tachyons are particles that travel faster than light; that’s the most important part. They’ve been a subject of theoretical physics since the late 60s, but as far as public knowledge goes, they’re still just that. Theoretical.
But they are most certainly real. Well, not “tachyons” per se, though their behaviour is equatable. I won’t bore you with the technicalities, but the result of a particle travelling faster than light is that said particle is able to, effectively, travel backwards in time.
My other group members and I have been experimenting with these particles for the best part of two years now. We’ve made major advances, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about.
Yesterday, 23/03/2023, at 09:07 am, my equipment detected a tachyon signal. This was in the morning, mind you, and no tests had yet been carried out. From what I can tell, this signal originated – or, rather, will originate – from elsewhere.
Playing it out loud, it at first just sounded like a garbled mess of frequencies. But after observing the audio structure, I found it to be made up of thousands of tones, of which there were only two types – long, and short.
The realisation hit pretty quick. It was Morse code, or, at least, it could be interpreted as such. The most fundamental form of digital communication known to man. So, I ran it through an auto-interpreter a few times, and got a fully coherent message.
I refuse to believe that I’m seeing patterns where there are none. The chances are so astronomically low that I can’t feasibly consider it to be a random signal, especially considering I’ve never received one from somewhere outside the lab.
I’m going to copy over the translation here. I do not wish to instil panic, but please, spread this post. People need to be aware that this is a real possibility.
To whomever is reading this, prepare yourself.
Here it is.
[TRANSCRIPT BEGIN]
Hi.
My name is Tim Hermelle. Before I write down this account, I should insist that this is the truth. This is happening to us all right now. This is not a joke, prank, or an interactive project.
This is the truth. You HAVE to believe what you are about to read, for our sakes.
Okay, with that out of the way… shit, it’s getting closer. I’ll write down what I can before we’re pulled back to the city, to join the others. I hope enough context is given in my account for you to fully understand.
I live - lived - in the great city of Pharades (that’s Pha-ra-dees). The utopia of humanity’s future. Life was amazing. Every aspect brought joy and satisfaction to every person. No hunger, thirst, no overpopulation, pollution… a Nirvana if there ever was. The level of advancement may be difficult for some of you to believe
Work was optional, and automatons would fill the spaces left by those choosing to pursue their own personal dreams. Even so, a large number of people here still choose to have jobs, vocations I suppose. Healthcare was unparalleled, and not one person has died during my time here.
Everything major was decided by a vote. It was the perfect democratic system, but I’m no politician, so I wouldn’t be able to explain to you why that is.
Hell, we even had a collective vote to decide the next week’s weather every Sunday. That’s right, we’d taken control of the weather. Want to splash around in puddles, smelling the petrichor? Maybe get a tan on? You’d just have to go and vote for it.
Pharades was, without hyperbole, fucking beautiful. In between the city blocks, there were great swathes of woodland and meadows. Crystal rivers flowed underneath silver bridges, and leaves of every colour painted the landscape like polka dots.
And the city itself, well, they say nature trumps anything manmade in terms of beauty, but I disagree. The intricately designed towers were accented by all the most complementary colours, gold, chrome, red, blue, any combination you could imagine, it was here. Arches, spirals, and patterns of every variety adorned the structures.
The day in question was a Wednesday – not that days of the week held any particular significance anymore. I’d planned to meet with two of my buddies, Erin and Tuan, at our favourite coffee shop a couple of districts over, in the Wantania area.
Historically, the journey may have been arduous, or frustrating. Not now. Most people didn’t even use vehicles anymore – instead, the city had built a vast underground network of ever-shifting and rearranging tracks, called “Tubyrinth”. Each person owned a personal pod of sorts, customisable to any degree.
I input Wantania Central, and hopped inside. My pod contained a sofa and a minifridge, stocked up with my favourite drinks. The journey was always snappy. Each time, the underground superstructure would arrange a new and unique track to be used, direct to a reserved bay.
Just fifteen minutes later, I was stood under the vaulted, ornamental expanse of the station roof, a hundred or so feet above. I always stopped here to just stare upwards for a moment, absorbing the imaginative architecture.
After exiting the station, I was surprised to see that both Erin and Tuan were already waiting for me outside. The good kind of surprised, that slaps a goofy smile onto your face.
“Took you long enough!” Tuan chuckled, finding the irony in his own words hilarious.
“God, I know right?” added Erin, “I was worried I’d need crutches after standing out here waiting!”
“Well, heh, you’re not gonna like this next part,” I joked, and we set off down the street, laughing. Our favourite café was called “Beansmith’s Forge”. It was a cheesy, but endearing name, and the theme fit the three of us like a glove; as I said before, we’d been working on worldbuilding for our fantasy RPG, an immersive neurolink VR experience, where the player could design their own character and have a unique questline auto-generated out of a complex system.
We ordered brunch, and, of course, coffee. I won’t get into the details of our talks, but we quickly finished up, paid, and set off down Gerben Street.
The more exciting event of the day was our session booked at the aptly named Noji Box, something you could call an “anti-grav playground”. Admittedly, I’ve never fully known how it works, just that it involves paired wormholes, immensely powerful electromagnets, and a huge vacuum-chamber.
One thing I was always grateful for was that the automatons, who I saw working robotically through storefront windows, were withheld any accurate human likeness – I’m sure you’ve heard of the uncanny valley, so you’ll know what I mean. They fell just short of it.
All was calm on the walk, as to be expected. We made it to the Noji Box in good time, ten minutes before our session booking. I get it’s company policy to take everyone through the safety basics, but it was admittedly a little boring after many, many past visits.
The only real requirement was that you’d have to wear an “osteopatic suit”. No, osteostatic? Something about keeping your bones from floating away from each other, or from disappearing over time.
We were suited up, ready to enter “S.S. Slamdown”, when a sudden tremor shook the building’s foundations. Everyone shared the same puzzled expression – not once had something like that ever happened in Pharades.
The staff looked a bit stumped at first. I guess they never had to deal with a situation like this in the past. To our dismay, but unsurprisingly, our session was cancelled, and we were told that they would call us later to sort out a re-booking.
I had the strangest feeling when we left and began back down the road. Something similar to déjà vu, but not quite. Like nostalgia, but without the accompanying feeling of reminiscence or joy.
Trying to brush it off, I distracted my mind by humming a tune. I didn’t know what it was from, at the time, but I knew it was a stringed melody. A violin? Thing is, I wasn’t really humming it as much as hearing it in my head.
We rounded a corner, and Erin paused in surprise.
“Oh, that’s… hey, that’s Jeremiah! He’s been playing that fiddle the street over from mine for the past, what, two weeks? Come on, let’s go listen.”
I grew confused when we approached, only to hear the exact same melody that had just been looping in my head. Before I’d heard this guy playing. I don’t remember stumbling upon this particular street performer before this point.
We stood listening for a few minutes, then continued our walk. Thoughts no longer infested with that tune, I was hit with what I can only describe as a taste. The savoury taste of something on my tongue, complete with mustard and relish. Meat of some kind?
The concern started to flourish when we came upon a food truck, and Tuan asked if we were hungry. Sure, we’d just eaten at the coffee shop, but I could fit in one more tasty bite. He offered to pay, which we gladly accepted, and he returned with… hotdogs. With mustard. And relish.
My gratitude masked the ever-growing confusion within me. Was this just a weird coincidence, or something else? Did I know we were going to get hotdogs?
We wound up back at the station, where a feeling of detached sorrow welled up inside me, something you might feel after recalling a bad memory from which you’ve since recovered. I understood then that I would run into my on-good-terms ex inside. But, before we could enter, another rumbling tremor swept across the street, followed by the clamour of destruction and screams from inside.
A grey dust cloud plumed out from the entrance, sweeping us off of our feet. I saw Erin flipped face-first into the pavement, just as I caught my heel on the base of a stop sign. Yet another quake boomed underneath the asphalt.
The asphalt I was falling down onto… but the impact didn’t come. Instead of a hard surface, the sensation of falling went on. You know that feeling when you think there’s another step at the bottom of the stairs, only to find the floor instead? It was just like that.
The ground I fell upon wasn’t asphalt. It rang out as I collided, almost hollow-sounding. Metallic. Maybe it was just my head ringing, but without a doubt, I was not in the street anymore.
I sat up, and my palms confirmed I was on a metal floor, the kind with those diamond-shaped grips. Looking around almost caused a complete sensory overload, immediately. A multitude of flashing lights, screens, wires, buttons, and all sorts decorated the room. It looked not far off from the control room of an intelligence agency – at least, how they’re depicted in movies.
I got onto one knee and pivoted to look around. The tall man standing directly behind me almost led to a second fall, but instead I scooted backward frantically at the sight.
The man – well, I say “man”, but this person didn’t really have any distinguishing features. They were wearing a spotless black and white cloak of some kind, and a metal cage covering the upper half of their face, so that only their mouth was visible.
They stood still, not reacting to my show of surprise, then spoke in the most androgynous voice conceivable.
“How did you get in here?”
I scanned the room, finding that there were no obvious entrances anywhere around, like we were inside a closed-off box.
“I- uh, I fell over, a-and next thing I know – here,” I stuttered.
“Well, you shouldn’t be here, and there’s no way that you should be able to get here.”
I stood up, feeling a little more comfortable in the presence of this stranger, though not letting my guard down entirely. Now, I could see the pictures displayed across the screens – they seemed to be feeds of countless locations in Pharades, streets, woodlands, you name it.
“What… what the hell’s going on here? Who are you? Why are you spying on the city?”
The stranger didn’t seem amused, being pelted with questions, and held up a hand, gesturing me to stop. They let out a deep, held breath.
“Well, since you’re here, I may as well enlighten you. Take a seat.”
So I did. I sat in shock and disbelief for the next five minutes as the person answered all my questions, even the ones I didn’t know I wanted to ask. They introduced themselves simply as “Administrator”, but I chose “Admin”, to avoid the mouthful.
Admin proceeded to tell me the truth, as casually as one would talk about the weather.
It wasn’t real.
A simulation.
They told me we were inside a highly advanced, self-sustaining, supercomputer pod travelling through deep space, harvesting energy from ions extracted from the surrounding vacuum. Over a hundred trillion years ago, those living here now consented in having their consciousness imported to the device.
On top of the ion harvesting, power was supposedly generated from emotions experienced by a consciousness – the more intense an emotion or feeling, the more power generated.
I interrupted the monologue at this point with a question they hadn’t seemed to consider,
“Let’s say I believe what you’re saying. If this system’s been up for as long as you say, why did I only just have my 29th birthday, what, two months back now?”
“I understand your concern, but allow me to continue. Every 50 years, it is reset. All your memories are wiped and locked away until the moments when you would again make those memories. There are only a set number of people who were uploaded to the system, and their minds cannot simply be deleted if they were to die.”
Not only a simulation, but an endless loop? My brain felt like it might burst.
“Wait,” I said, “if we’re reset every time, and everything plays out the same… then, we can’t possibly have any free will of our own, right?”
“I suppose you could say that. But the illusion we, I, have worked tirelessly to maintain, gives the impression that you do.”
“Wh… what? So, the original me signed up for this? But I’m not him! I’m a copy, aren’t I? Do I have a choice in this?”
“There is no way for me to erase any person that lives here. Only if the pod itself is damaged or destroyed, can I, or anyone else, truly die. The Great Stellar Extinction has come and gone, and all that remains outside is cold, and dark. A handful of black and brown dwarves, and black holes. To my knowledge.”
The sudden feeling of intense, hollow loneliness filled up my chest. We were alone in a great black sea of nothingness. My slack jaw must have told Admin I didn’t have the capacity to speak.
“Over time, I have lost contact with the hundreds of thousands of other pods that were ejected from Earth all that time ago. Either they are too far now, or they met a destructive end. I can’t say which is the better, anymore.”
Absorbing the sudden truth, the emptiness evolved into anger.
“Let me get this straight. We, living our lives down there, are puppets to you? Is that it? Just an endless cycle of digital paradise, kept in the dark of all you’ve just told me? How can you possibly justify this?!”
“Calm down. Having your memories wiped is a luxury I myself cannot afford. Anyway, that’s only the preface of what I need to talk about. I’m sure you also noticed the tremors, down there?”
“The tremors? Oh, oh yeah. Sort of ruined my plans, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.”
“I didn’t do anything. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Whatever the cause, it’s not within this pod.”
I took it all in. A system malfunction? Why did the Admin feel the need to share this with me?
“Is… is that why, maybe, that I could predict some of the things that happened afterwards?”
“It’s worse than I thought. The memory suppression seems to be failing.”
Both of us paused for a moment. The silence was deafening.
“I’ve been taking readings on the external sensors. There’s… something out there. An object. It’s been following us for a while now, but with no starlight left, I don’t know what it is. Space debris couldn’t move on its own accord like this thing is.”
“What are you trying to say?” I sputtered, the dread I felt deepening by the second.
“I’m saying that something has found us.”
My blood ran cold. Found us? What could have found us?
“Didn’t you say all the stars are dead? The universe is just darkness now. What could have found us? What?”
“I wish I had the answers, too. I don’t think we’re safe anymore. The most recent readings imply that whatever it is, it’s latched onto the pod somehow. Possibly-“
Admin was cut off by the loud screech of static from the speakers around the room. Their head shot up to the nearest corner in a manner that set me on a knife’s edge.
The tremors returned with a vengeance now, and the both of us were sent sprawling onto the floor. I didn’t fall through it this time, though. Sparks flew and monitors went offline.
I was about to ask what we should do, when the roaring static settled, and something else started to play.
An innocent, childlike giggle. Gurgled coos, infantile squeals of joy that pierced my eardrums like needles and left them ringing. Remembering the sounds that came from those speakers make my insides twist and yearn to escape my body, knowing what came next.
The laughter grew, and so did the tremors. The room started to collapse, wires and boxes raining down upon us. Well, not really collapse, no, but change. The far wall crumpled, like something on the other side assailed it with forceful impacts, and the room began to shrink.
As if that dark place wasn’t claustrophobic enough, the ceiling, walls, everything began to close in on us. All the while, the childlike giggling only grew in joy. I thought we were to be crushed and snapped by the pressure, when we were abruptly freed.
It had happened again. Pushed through the floor and spat out somewhere else. This time, I – we – found ourselves near a paved road leading out of one of the city blocks, into a green meadow which gave way to trees a ways down.
Something was terribly wrong. Only after brushing myself off and standing up did I become aware of the swirling darkness that replaced the once baby-blue sky, with its cotton candy clouds. A heavy and unsettling calm had fallen upon us, dampening the city’s brilliance. No more did sunlight gleam off the ornate spires and arches, replaced by a still, hanging shadow.
The eerie quiet was shattered by that godforsaken crackling, booming across the landscape, despite not a speaker in sight, again followed by those ill-belonging coos and cries. Accompanying the infantile sputtering came an uproar of cracking and crumbling, great impacts from deep within the city’s heart.
Both Admin and I stared in disbelief as distant buildings sunk into the ground, while others twisted and warped their way into the sky, as if made from soft clay. Some just disappeared entirely, leaving not a shred of evidence behind that they had ever been there, while their former inhabitants plunged from storeys above.
“It’s taken my place.”
Those four unprompted words shook me to the core of my being. The god of this world had been usurped.
“But why?” I found myself asking, “with what motive?”
Admin went to reply, but stopped upon seeing the great, pinkish masses floating up out of the streets, far ahead. We stared in bewilderment, trying to make out what they were. The chorus of screams hurried us to the realisation that the balls were… they were made of people.
Agonised, howling faces littered the fleshy abominations, while more objects rose around them. Structural beams, signposts, metal objects of every kind gravitated toward the amalgams of humanity, before their relentless assaults began.
Ripping, tearing, stabbing, slicing… it was already too much for my mind to comprehend. It garnered no reaction from myself other than stunned shock. Flesh and blood spewed from the masses, and orbited around them like the rings of Saturn, falling back in to haphazardly patch themselves back onto the wailing people.
My thoughtless attention was redirected as a frantic deluge of citizens fled the city, running down the street towards us. One by one, the exodus was halted, people seeming to stop in place abruptly, though the screams did not relent.
I couldn’t see what had stopped them until the crowd drew closer, where I saw an elderly man whip forward, foot stuck fast, instantly snapping his knee from the momentum. He let out a heart-wrenching cry as he fell down and looked to see what had stopped him.
Something that looked like roots, water pipes maybe, had erupted through the tarmac and coiled their way up his leg. I could see the strength draining in his eyes as they stood him back upright by force, wrapping around his entire body.
I watched in abject horror as he was raised off the ground, and each and every one of the old man’s limbs were bent and snapped at unnatural angles, shattering frail bones into dust.
His feeble cries were promptly silenced as a squirming metal tube forced its way inside his mouth, his eyes rolling back in unfathomable agony as the bulging mass forced its way down his throat, splitting his ribcage apart and allowing the organs within to slop out and float in the air, as if weightless. The whole process seemed to reverse itself in time, then repeat, over and over.
I could only hear the echoes of Admin’s shouts and the faint sensation of their grip on my forearm as they pulled me away from the mind-bending atrocity. My vacant body tumbled backward, sending both of us falling onto the grass.
Still I could only sit there, frozen. Somewhere off to the right, I saw a young woman pulling presumably her daughter along by the wrist, fleeing the hellscape of flesh and bone down a small alley. Her head spun wildly as she noticed the walls of the alleyway closing in around them.
She burst out into the open, but was yanked back, her grip fast. She turned in desperation, only to see her daughter, who couldn’t have been more than seven, being slowly crushed into a paste of bloody flesh and yellow fat. Her pitiful screams still ring in my ears, seeing her child suffer such a terrible fate.
Admin was finally triumphant in breaking my trance, and I rushed to my feet, stumbling before gaining my footing and bolting the fuck out of there. The childish giggling echoing out over the sky only served to push me forwards and away from that place.
“What the fuck is going on?!” I yelped, glancing over to Admin, hoping they could offer just the slightest of explanations.
“I have an idea, but we need to get somewhere first. You see that hill through the woods, right over there?”
“Hill? To the observatory?”
“There’s one last thing we can try to stop this. It’s a shot in the dark, but I can’t just stand here and fade away with the rest.”
High speed winds whipped the trees as we ran below them, leaves fluttering in a wild seizure. Air-splitting cracks sounded, so loud my ears began to ring once more, and I looked over my shoulder to see what they could have been.
Blazing spouts of fire shot down from the clouds behind, more akin to lightning than anything, striking the forsaken with white-hot temperatures. Even from a distance, I could see skin and flesh melt off of bones like candle wax, forming spiralling clouds of organic vapour.
In my distraction, I ran straight into a tree, and tumbled over, blood leaking from a small cut on my forehead. Admin skidded to a stop and pulled me up to my feet, and ran onwards, not waiting for a moment to ask if I was okay.
Neither of us were okay. That was a given now.
We reached the top of the hill without too much effort – seems it was programmed for everyone to have an above-average level of fitness, young or old regardless.
Admin frantically, but methodically, sifted through what appeared to be a large hoop of keys, searching for the one to fit the observatory’s door. I looked back over to where we had fled from.
The twisted buildings coiled toward the sky, gargantuan talons holding captive everyone I’d ever known. But there was something else. Far behind the city, in the distant hills and woodland, a great black wave that spanned the horizon was travelling towards us, eviscerating the world itself. All it left behind was an endless chasm of darkness, defying reality itself.
The tsunami came closer, before stopping at the city’s outskirts, leaving only a towering earthen spire of suffering, flaming bolts cracking down upon it.
“Admin, what is going on?!”
They paused for a moment, then continued working on the several locks barring our entry.
“Do you remember what I told you earlier, when you found me? How this system is able to keep on running, over the trillions of years?”
“…ions?”
“Yes, but that’s only the basis. I told you that emotional activity generates power, yes? The more intense an emotion, the more power generated?”
“What are you getting at?”
“This is pure theory, but I believe that whatever is out there is feeding off of the system.”
“Is that why all that was happening? The-“
I stifled a gag, recalling the horrors fresh in my memory.
“Again, it’s a theory. I don’t understand what it is. If the constraints of the universe are loose enough for something to evolve in its endless darkness, to predate on the last sources of energy within it… I don’t know. And I doubt we ever will.”
I stared out at the hellscape, speechless. Finally, Admin found the right key, yanked the door open, and pulled me inside by the arm.
“Hey!” Admin yelled, snapping their fingers, “I need you to be present for this. I am restricted in this world, I can’t break and reform things like you can. A failsafe, for if the power were to go to my head. Follow my instructions exactly.”
They told me how to break apart some of the technology in the observatory, and rewire it into a different machine. I had no idea what we were creating at the time, but complied nonetheless.
The finished product was a makeshift beacon of some kind, connected to the nearby terminal.
“Thank you. Now, type.”
“Type what?”
“Everything that has happened. Add as many details as you can, because we won’t have another chance to get this out there.”
“O-okay, what is this thing? A radio?”
“In a way. The observatory is one of the only places here that has a connection to the outside. I have used it more than once to observe the universe fading away. This setup will send our transmission as a unique, superluminal type of wave. Hurry, we can’t waste time chatting about this.”
And so, here we are. I don’t know who will be hearing this, if anyone at all.
I beg of you, consider how our advancements might be our downfall.
It’s almost here. I can hear the flaming bolts striking the forest, closer.
This is my account. Please save us. Please spare us.
Don’t condemn us as you have.
[TRANSCRIPT END]
There it is. I’ve revised the translation more times than I can count, and I’m sure there’s no mistake here.
Other readings imply that this message has travelled an unimaginably vast distance, and not only over space. Repeated triangulation only tells me this came from above, somewhere far away, among the stars.
I can feel the edges of my mind singeing. This can’t be proven as truth, nor can it be discredited. There’s no possible way to explain how this message came from our own planet.
I’m trying to be rational, but I think we need to consider future development very carefully. As a people, we have always rushed through our technological advancements at an incredible speed, not stopping to consider all the consequences that might follow.
If anyone will believe this, please spread it around. I have no doubt this post will be taken down the moment they find it. As for myself, I’ll be disgraced, probably. Stuck in a cold cell, most likely.
Spread the word. The fact that the higher-ups will attempt to conceal this is a cruel thing indeed, if any of it’s true.
Signing off.
submitted by rephlexi0n to nosleep [link] [comments]
Keeping this hidden would be a crime against humanity of the highest order. You all deserve to know, as terrible as it is.
I work at an unnamed technological research company as, you guessed it, a researcher. In recent years, we’ve made astonishing advancements in developing technology that can interact with and harness tachyons.
Tachyons are particles that travel faster than light; that’s the most important part. They’ve been a subject of theoretical physics since the late 60s, but as far as public knowledge goes, they’re still just that. Theoretical.
But they are most certainly real. Well, not “tachyons” per se, though their behaviour is equatable. I won’t bore you with the technicalities, but the result of a particle travelling faster than light is that said particle is able to, effectively, travel backwards in time.
My other group members and I have been experimenting with these particles for the best part of two years now. We’ve made major advances, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about.
Yesterday, 23/03/2023, at 09:07 am, my equipment detected a tachyon signal. This was in the morning, mind you, and no tests had yet been carried out. From what I can tell, this signal originated – or, rather, will originate – from elsewhere.
Playing it out loud, it at first just sounded like a garbled mess of frequencies. But after observing the audio structure, I found it to be made up of thousands of tones, of which there were only two types – long, and short.
The realisation hit pretty quick. It was Morse code, or, at least, it could be interpreted as such. The most fundamental form of digital communication known to man. So, I ran it through an auto-interpreter a few times, and got a fully coherent message.
I refuse to believe that I’m seeing patterns where there are none. The chances are so astronomically low that I can’t feasibly consider it to be a random signal, especially considering I’ve never received one from somewhere outside the lab.
I’m going to copy over the translation here. I do not wish to instil panic, but please, spread this post. People need to be aware that this is a real possibility.
To whomever is reading this, prepare yourself.
Here it is.
[TRANSCRIPT BEGIN]
Hi.
My name is Tim Hermelle. Before I write down this account, I should insist that this is the truth. This is happening to us all right now. This is not a joke, prank, or an interactive project.
This is the truth. You HAVE to believe what you are about to read, for our sakes.
Okay, with that out of the way… shit, it’s getting closer. I’ll write down what I can before we’re pulled back to the city, to join the others. I hope enough context is given in my account for you to fully understand.
I live - lived - in the great city of Pharades (that’s Pha-ra-dees). The utopia of humanity’s future. Life was amazing. Every aspect brought joy and satisfaction to every person. No hunger, thirst, no overpopulation, pollution… a Nirvana if there ever was. The level of advancement may be difficult for some of you to believe
Work was optional, and automatons would fill the spaces left by those choosing to pursue their own personal dreams. Even so, a large number of people here still choose to have jobs, vocations I suppose. Healthcare was unparalleled, and not one person has died during my time here.
Everything major was decided by a vote. It was the perfect democratic system, but I’m no politician, so I wouldn’t be able to explain to you why that is.
Hell, we even had a collective vote to decide the next week’s weather every Sunday. That’s right, we’d taken control of the weather. Want to splash around in puddles, smelling the petrichor? Maybe get a tan on? You’d just have to go and vote for it.
Pharades was, without hyperbole, fucking beautiful. In between the city blocks, there were great swathes of woodland and meadows. Crystal rivers flowed underneath silver bridges, and leaves of every colour painted the landscape like polka dots.
And the city itself, well, they say nature trumps anything manmade in terms of beauty, but I disagree. The intricately designed towers were accented by all the most complementary colours, gold, chrome, red, blue, any combination you could imagine, it was here. Arches, spirals, and patterns of every variety adorned the structures.
The day in question was a Wednesday – not that days of the week held any particular significance anymore. I’d planned to meet with two of my buddies, Erin and Tuan, at our favourite coffee shop a couple of districts over, in the Wantania area.
Historically, the journey may have been arduous, or frustrating. Not now. Most people didn’t even use vehicles anymore – instead, the city had built a vast underground network of ever-shifting and rearranging tracks, called “Tubyrinth”. Each person owned a personal pod of sorts, customisable to any degree.
I input Wantania Central, and hopped inside. My pod contained a sofa and a minifridge, stocked up with my favourite drinks. The journey was always snappy. Each time, the underground superstructure would arrange a new and unique track to be used, direct to a reserved bay.
Just fifteen minutes later, I was stood under the vaulted, ornamental expanse of the station roof, a hundred or so feet above. I always stopped here to just stare upwards for a moment, absorbing the imaginative architecture.
After exiting the station, I was surprised to see that both Erin and Tuan were already waiting for me outside. The good kind of surprised, that slaps a goofy smile onto your face.
“Took you long enough!” Tuan chuckled, finding the irony in his own words hilarious.
“God, I know right?” added Erin, “I was worried I’d need crutches after standing out here waiting!”
“Well, heh, you’re not gonna like this next part,” I joked, and we set off down the street, laughing. Our favourite café was called “Beansmith’s Forge”. It was a cheesy, but endearing name, and the theme fit the three of us like a glove; as I said before, we’d been working on worldbuilding for our fantasy RPG, an immersive neurolink VR experience, where the player could design their own character and have a unique questline auto-generated out of a complex system.
We ordered brunch, and, of course, coffee. I won’t get into the details of our talks, but we quickly finished up, paid, and set off down Gerben Street.
The more exciting event of the day was our session booked at the aptly named Noji Box, something you could call an “anti-grav playground”. Admittedly, I’ve never fully known how it works, just that it involves paired wormholes, immensely powerful electromagnets, and a huge vacuum-chamber.
One thing I was always grateful for was that the automatons, who I saw working robotically through storefront windows, were withheld any accurate human likeness – I’m sure you’ve heard of the uncanny valley, so you’ll know what I mean. They fell just short of it.
All was calm on the walk, as to be expected. We made it to the Noji Box in good time, ten minutes before our session booking. I get it’s company policy to take everyone through the safety basics, but it was admittedly a little boring after many, many past visits.
The only real requirement was that you’d have to wear an “osteopatic suit”. No, osteostatic? Something about keeping your bones from floating away from each other, or from disappearing over time.
We were suited up, ready to enter “S.S. Slamdown”, when a sudden tremor shook the building’s foundations. Everyone shared the same puzzled expression – not once had something like that ever happened in Pharades.
The staff looked a bit stumped at first. I guess they never had to deal with a situation like this in the past. To our dismay, but unsurprisingly, our session was cancelled, and we were told that they would call us later to sort out a re-booking.
I had the strangest feeling when we left and began back down the road. Something similar to déjà vu, but not quite. Like nostalgia, but without the accompanying feeling of reminiscence or joy.
Trying to brush it off, I distracted my mind by humming a tune. I didn’t know what it was from, at the time, but I knew it was a stringed melody. A violin? Thing is, I wasn’t really humming it as much as hearing it in my head.
We rounded a corner, and Erin paused in surprise.
“Oh, that’s… hey, that’s Jeremiah! He’s been playing that fiddle the street over from mine for the past, what, two weeks? Come on, let’s go listen.”
I grew confused when we approached, only to hear the exact same melody that had just been looping in my head. Before I’d heard this guy playing. I don’t remember stumbling upon this particular street performer before this point.
We stood listening for a few minutes, then continued our walk. Thoughts no longer infested with that tune, I was hit with what I can only describe as a taste. The savoury taste of something on my tongue, complete with mustard and relish. Meat of some kind?
The concern started to flourish when we came upon a food truck, and Tuan asked if we were hungry. Sure, we’d just eaten at the coffee shop, but I could fit in one more tasty bite. He offered to pay, which we gladly accepted, and he returned with… hotdogs. With mustard. And relish.
My gratitude masked the ever-growing confusion within me. Was this just a weird coincidence, or something else? Did I know we were going to get hotdogs?
We wound up back at the station, where a feeling of detached sorrow welled up inside me, something you might feel after recalling a bad memory from which you’ve since recovered. I understood then that I would run into my on-good-terms ex inside. But, before we could enter, another rumbling tremor swept across the street, followed by the clamour of destruction and screams from inside.
A grey dust cloud plumed out from the entrance, sweeping us off of our feet. I saw Erin flipped face-first into the pavement, just as I caught my heel on the base of a stop sign. Yet another quake boomed underneath the asphalt.
The asphalt I was falling down onto… but the impact didn’t come. Instead of a hard surface, the sensation of falling went on. You know that feeling when you think there’s another step at the bottom of the stairs, only to find the floor instead? It was just like that.
The ground I fell upon wasn’t asphalt. It rang out as I collided, almost hollow-sounding. Metallic. Maybe it was just my head ringing, but without a doubt, I was not in the street anymore.
I sat up, and my palms confirmed I was on a metal floor, the kind with those diamond-shaped grips. Looking around almost caused a complete sensory overload, immediately. A multitude of flashing lights, screens, wires, buttons, and all sorts decorated the room. It looked not far off from the control room of an intelligence agency – at least, how they’re depicted in movies.
I got onto one knee and pivoted to look around. The tall man standing directly behind me almost led to a second fall, but instead I scooted backward frantically at the sight.
The man – well, I say “man”, but this person didn’t really have any distinguishing features. They were wearing a spotless black and white cloak of some kind, and a metal cage covering the upper half of their face, so that only their mouth was visible.
They stood still, not reacting to my show of surprise, then spoke in the most androgynous voice conceivable.
“How did you get in here?”
I scanned the room, finding that there were no obvious entrances anywhere around, like we were inside a closed-off box.
“I- uh, I fell over, a-and next thing I know – here,” I stuttered.
“Well, you shouldn’t be here, and there’s no way that you should be able to get here.”
I stood up, feeling a little more comfortable in the presence of this stranger, though not letting my guard down entirely. Now, I could see the pictures displayed across the screens – they seemed to be feeds of countless locations in Pharades, streets, woodlands, you name it.
“What… what the hell’s going on here? Who are you? Why are you spying on the city?”
The stranger didn’t seem amused, being pelted with questions, and held up a hand, gesturing me to stop. They let out a deep, held breath.
“Well, since you’re here, I may as well enlighten you. Take a seat.”
So I did. I sat in shock and disbelief for the next five minutes as the person answered all my questions, even the ones I didn’t know I wanted to ask. They introduced themselves simply as “Administrator”, but I chose “Admin”, to avoid the mouthful.
Admin proceeded to tell me the truth, as casually as one would talk about the weather.
It wasn’t real.
A simulation.
They told me we were inside a highly advanced, self-sustaining, supercomputer pod travelling through deep space, harvesting energy from ions extracted from the surrounding vacuum. Over a hundred trillion years ago, those living here now consented in having their consciousness imported to the device.
On top of the ion harvesting, power was supposedly generated from emotions experienced by a consciousness – the more intense an emotion or feeling, the more power generated.
I interrupted the monologue at this point with a question they hadn’t seemed to consider,
“Let’s say I believe what you’re saying. If this system’s been up for as long as you say, why did I only just have my 29th birthday, what, two months back now?”
“I understand your concern, but allow me to continue. Every 50 years, it is reset. All your memories are wiped and locked away until the moments when you would again make those memories. There are only a set number of people who were uploaded to the system, and their minds cannot simply be deleted if they were to die.”
Not only a simulation, but an endless loop? My brain felt like it might burst.
“Wait,” I said, “if we’re reset every time, and everything plays out the same… then, we can’t possibly have any free will of our own, right?”
“I suppose you could say that. But the illusion we, I, have worked tirelessly to maintain, gives the impression that you do.”
“Wh… what? So, the original me signed up for this? But I’m not him! I’m a copy, aren’t I? Do I have a choice in this?”
“There is no way for me to erase any person that lives here. Only if the pod itself is damaged or destroyed, can I, or anyone else, truly die. The Great Stellar Extinction has come and gone, and all that remains outside is cold, and dark. A handful of black and brown dwarves, and black holes. To my knowledge.”
The sudden feeling of intense, hollow loneliness filled up my chest. We were alone in a great black sea of nothingness. My slack jaw must have told Admin I didn’t have the capacity to speak.
“Over time, I have lost contact with the hundreds of thousands of other pods that were ejected from Earth all that time ago. Either they are too far now, or they met a destructive end. I can’t say which is the better, anymore.”
Absorbing the sudden truth, the emptiness evolved into anger.
“Let me get this straight. We, living our lives down there, are puppets to you? Is that it? Just an endless cycle of digital paradise, kept in the dark of all you’ve just told me? How can you possibly justify this?!”
“Calm down. Having your memories wiped is a luxury I myself cannot afford. Anyway, that’s only the preface of what I need to talk about. I’m sure you also noticed the tremors, down there?”
“The tremors? Oh, oh yeah. Sort of ruined my plans, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.”
“I didn’t do anything. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Whatever the cause, it’s not within this pod.”
I took it all in. A system malfunction? Why did the Admin feel the need to share this with me?
“Is… is that why, maybe, that I could predict some of the things that happened afterwards?”
“It’s worse than I thought. The memory suppression seems to be failing.”
Both of us paused for a moment. The silence was deafening.
“I’ve been taking readings on the external sensors. There’s… something out there. An object. It’s been following us for a while now, but with no starlight left, I don’t know what it is. Space debris couldn’t move on its own accord like this thing is.”
“What are you trying to say?” I sputtered, the dread I felt deepening by the second.
“I’m saying that something has found us.”
My blood ran cold. Found us? What could have found us?
“Didn’t you say all the stars are dead? The universe is just darkness now. What could have found us? What?”
“I wish I had the answers, too. I don’t think we’re safe anymore. The most recent readings imply that whatever it is, it’s latched onto the pod somehow. Possibly-“
Admin was cut off by the loud screech of static from the speakers around the room. Their head shot up to the nearest corner in a manner that set me on a knife’s edge.
The tremors returned with a vengeance now, and the both of us were sent sprawling onto the floor. I didn’t fall through it this time, though. Sparks flew and monitors went offline.
I was about to ask what we should do, when the roaring static settled, and something else started to play.
An innocent, childlike giggle. Gurgled coos, infantile squeals of joy that pierced my eardrums like needles and left them ringing. Remembering the sounds that came from those speakers make my insides twist and yearn to escape my body, knowing what came next.
The laughter grew, and so did the tremors. The room started to collapse, wires and boxes raining down upon us. Well, not really collapse, no, but change. The far wall crumpled, like something on the other side assailed it with forceful impacts, and the room began to shrink.
As if that dark place wasn’t claustrophobic enough, the ceiling, walls, everything began to close in on us. All the while, the childlike giggling only grew in joy. I thought we were to be crushed and snapped by the pressure, when we were abruptly freed.
It had happened again. Pushed through the floor and spat out somewhere else. This time, I – we – found ourselves near a paved road leading out of one of the city blocks, into a green meadow which gave way to trees a ways down.
Something was terribly wrong. Only after brushing myself off and standing up did I become aware of the swirling darkness that replaced the once baby-blue sky, with its cotton candy clouds. A heavy and unsettling calm had fallen upon us, dampening the city’s brilliance. No more did sunlight gleam off the ornate spires and arches, replaced by a still, hanging shadow.
The eerie quiet was shattered by that godforsaken crackling, booming across the landscape, despite not a speaker in sight, again followed by those ill-belonging coos and cries. Accompanying the infantile sputtering came an uproar of cracking and crumbling, great impacts from deep within the city’s heart.
Both Admin and I stared in disbelief as distant buildings sunk into the ground, while others twisted and warped their way into the sky, as if made from soft clay. Some just disappeared entirely, leaving not a shred of evidence behind that they had ever been there, while their former inhabitants plunged from storeys above.
“It’s taken my place.”
Those four unprompted words shook me to the core of my being. The god of this world had been usurped.
“But why?” I found myself asking, “with what motive?”
Admin went to reply, but stopped upon seeing the great, pinkish masses floating up out of the streets, far ahead. We stared in bewilderment, trying to make out what they were. The chorus of screams hurried us to the realisation that the balls were… they were made of people.
Agonised, howling faces littered the fleshy abominations, while more objects rose around them. Structural beams, signposts, metal objects of every kind gravitated toward the amalgams of humanity, before their relentless assaults began.
Ripping, tearing, stabbing, slicing… it was already too much for my mind to comprehend. It garnered no reaction from myself other than stunned shock. Flesh and blood spewed from the masses, and orbited around them like the rings of Saturn, falling back in to haphazardly patch themselves back onto the wailing people.
My thoughtless attention was redirected as a frantic deluge of citizens fled the city, running down the street towards us. One by one, the exodus was halted, people seeming to stop in place abruptly, though the screams did not relent.
I couldn’t see what had stopped them until the crowd drew closer, where I saw an elderly man whip forward, foot stuck fast, instantly snapping his knee from the momentum. He let out a heart-wrenching cry as he fell down and looked to see what had stopped him.
Something that looked like roots, water pipes maybe, had erupted through the tarmac and coiled their way up his leg. I could see the strength draining in his eyes as they stood him back upright by force, wrapping around his entire body.
I watched in abject horror as he was raised off the ground, and each and every one of the old man’s limbs were bent and snapped at unnatural angles, shattering frail bones into dust.
His feeble cries were promptly silenced as a squirming metal tube forced its way inside his mouth, his eyes rolling back in unfathomable agony as the bulging mass forced its way down his throat, splitting his ribcage apart and allowing the organs within to slop out and float in the air, as if weightless. The whole process seemed to reverse itself in time, then repeat, over and over.
I could only hear the echoes of Admin’s shouts and the faint sensation of their grip on my forearm as they pulled me away from the mind-bending atrocity. My vacant body tumbled backward, sending both of us falling onto the grass.
Still I could only sit there, frozen. Somewhere off to the right, I saw a young woman pulling presumably her daughter along by the wrist, fleeing the hellscape of flesh and bone down a small alley. Her head spun wildly as she noticed the walls of the alleyway closing in around them.
She burst out into the open, but was yanked back, her grip fast. She turned in desperation, only to see her daughter, who couldn’t have been more than seven, being slowly crushed into a paste of bloody flesh and yellow fat. Her pitiful screams still ring in my ears, seeing her child suffer such a terrible fate.
Admin was finally triumphant in breaking my trance, and I rushed to my feet, stumbling before gaining my footing and bolting the fuck out of there. The childish giggling echoing out over the sky only served to push me forwards and away from that place.
“What the fuck is going on?!” I yelped, glancing over to Admin, hoping they could offer just the slightest of explanations.
“I have an idea, but we need to get somewhere first. You see that hill through the woods, right over there?”
“Hill? To the observatory?”
“There’s one last thing we can try to stop this. It’s a shot in the dark, but I can’t just stand here and fade away with the rest.”
High speed winds whipped the trees as we ran below them, leaves fluttering in a wild seizure. Air-splitting cracks sounded, so loud my ears began to ring once more, and I looked over my shoulder to see what they could have been.
Blazing spouts of fire shot down from the clouds behind, more akin to lightning than anything, striking the forsaken with white-hot temperatures. Even from a distance, I could see skin and flesh melt off of bones like candle wax, forming spiralling clouds of organic vapour.
In my distraction, I ran straight into a tree, and tumbled over, blood leaking from a small cut on my forehead. Admin skidded to a stop and pulled me up to my feet, and ran onwards, not waiting for a moment to ask if I was okay.
Neither of us were okay. That was a given now.
We reached the top of the hill without too much effort – seems it was programmed for everyone to have an above-average level of fitness, young or old regardless.
Admin frantically, but methodically, sifted through what appeared to be a large hoop of keys, searching for the one to fit the observatory’s door. I looked back over to where we had fled from.
The twisted buildings coiled toward the sky, gargantuan talons holding captive everyone I’d ever known. But there was something else. Far behind the city, in the distant hills and woodland, a great black wave that spanned the horizon was travelling towards us, eviscerating the world itself. All it left behind was an endless chasm of darkness, defying reality itself.
The tsunami came closer, before stopping at the city’s outskirts, leaving only a towering earthen spire of suffering, flaming bolts cracking down upon it.
“Admin, what is going on?!”
They paused for a moment, then continued working on the several locks barring our entry.
“Do you remember what I told you earlier, when you found me? How this system is able to keep on running, over the trillions of years?”
“…ions?”
“Yes, but that’s only the basis. I told you that emotional activity generates power, yes? The more intense an emotion, the more power generated?”
“What are you getting at?”
“This is pure theory, but I believe that whatever is out there is feeding off of the system.”
“Is that why all that was happening? The-“
I stifled a gag, recalling the horrors fresh in my memory.
“Again, it’s a theory. I don’t understand what it is. If the constraints of the universe are loose enough for something to evolve in its endless darkness, to predate on the last sources of energy within it… I don’t know. And I doubt we ever will.”
I stared out at the hellscape, speechless. Finally, Admin found the right key, yanked the door open, and pulled me inside by the arm.
“Hey!” Admin yelled, snapping their fingers, “I need you to be present for this. I am restricted in this world, I can’t break and reform things like you can. A failsafe, for if the power were to go to my head. Follow my instructions exactly.”
They told me how to break apart some of the technology in the observatory, and rewire it into a different machine. I had no idea what we were creating at the time, but complied nonetheless.
The finished product was a makeshift beacon of some kind, connected to the nearby terminal.
“Thank you. Now, type.”
“Type what?”
“Everything that has happened. Add as many details as you can, because we won’t have another chance to get this out there.”
“O-okay, what is this thing? A radio?”
“In a way. The observatory is one of the only places here that has a connection to the outside. I have used it more than once to observe the universe fading away. This setup will send our transmission as a unique, superluminal type of wave. Hurry, we can’t waste time chatting about this.”
And so, here we are. I don’t know who will be hearing this, if anyone at all.
I beg of you, consider how our advancements might be our downfall.
It’s almost here. I can hear the flaming bolts striking the forest, closer.
This is my account. Please save us. Please spare us.
Don’t condemn us as you have.
[TRANSCRIPT END]
There it is. I’ve revised the translation more times than I can count, and I’m sure there’s no mistake here.
Other readings imply that this message has travelled an unimaginably vast distance, and not only over space. Repeated triangulation only tells me this came from above, somewhere far away, among the stars.
I can feel the edges of my mind singeing. This can’t be proven as truth, nor can it be discredited. There’s no possible way to explain how this message came from our own planet.
I’m trying to be rational, but I think we need to consider future development very carefully. As a people, we have always rushed through our technological advancements at an incredible speed, not stopping to consider all the consequences that might follow.
If anyone will believe this, please spread it around. I have no doubt this post will be taken down the moment they find it. As for myself, I’ll be disgraced, probably. Stuck in a cold cell, most likely.
Spread the word. The fact that the higher-ups will attempt to conceal this is a cruel thing indeed, if any of it’s true.
Signing off.
2023.03.24 14:00 seeldoger47 [H] $500 Amazon GCs [W] 80% Western Union, 90% PayPal [H] Cash App, Crypto, Apple Pay, or Venmo [W] All Your Gift Cards
You can download the WesternUnion app and send the payment from your phone.
Desktop Users: Comment on this post and Click here to start a trade App Users, please include the following in your PM (Remember to comment on this post as well):
- Type of card(s) and amount of each.
- What payment method you accept.
- How you acquired the GC and why you're getting rid of it.
I only have Steam as a substitute for cash payments in gift card trades.
| Want ↓ | Cash or a Gift Card ↓ | BTC ↓ |
|---|---|---|
| Apple | 60%4 | NA |
| Amazon.ca | 50% | 50% |
| Amazon.co.uk | 50% | 50% |
| Amazon.com | 70% | 55% |
| Amazon.de | 50% | 50% |
| Amazon.es | 50% | 50% |
| Amazon.fr | 50% | 50% |
| Amazon.it | 50% | 50% |
| Amazon.jp | 30% | 30% |
| Arrow Films | 65% | 60% |
| Barnes & Noble | 50% | 50% |
| Baskin Robbins | 60% | 60% |
| Best Buy | 60% | 60% |
| BJ's (not BJ's restaurant)4 | 60% | NA |
| Bloomingdales | 50% | 50% |
| Burger King4 | 60% | NA |
| Clothing Shops (Small Boutique) | contact me | contact me |
| Dell4 | 60% | NA |
| Delta gift cards4 | 65% | NA |
| Delta Sky Miles4 | PM me | NA |
| Delta Vouchers4 | 65% | NA |
| Dicks Sporting Goods 4 | PM me | NA |
| Disney Plus | PM me | PM me |
| DoorDash | 70%6 | NA |
| Dunkin Donuts4 | 60% | NA |
| eBay | 70% | 70% |
| Fandango4 | 10% | NA |
| Five Guys4 | 60% | NA |
| Gamestop | 60% | 60% |
| Gas Station Cards4 | PM me | NA |
| Grub Hub | 70%6 | NA |
| Gyft | 70% | 70% |
| Half Price Books | 50% | 50% |
| HBO4 | 70% | NA |
| iTunes4 | 60% | NA |
| J crew | 40% | 40% |
| JCPenney | 25% | 25% |
| Jersey Mike Subs4 | 60% | NA |
| KFC4 | 60% | NA |
| Khols | 30% | 30% |
| Macys | 35% | 35% |
| Magazines.com | 40% | 40% |
| McDonald's 4 | 60% | NA |
| Microsoft6 | 60% | NA |
| Moe’s Southwestern Grill4 | 60% | NA |
| Nintendo Eshop6 | 70% | NA |
| Nordstrom | 50% | 50% |
| Panera bread4 | 60% | NA |
| PSN6 | 60 | NA |
| PSN Plus 12 month4 | NA | NA |
| Saks Fifth Avenue | 50% | 50% |
| Sears | 50% | 50% |
| Sephora | 50% | 50% |
| Speedway4 | 80% | NA |
| Starbucks | 55% | 55% |
| Steam6 | 60% | NA |
| Subway 4 | PM me | NA |
| Taco Bell | 60% | NA |
| Target | 50% | 50% |
| Uber6 | 70% | NA |
| Urban Outfitters | 50% | 50% |
| Vudu4 | 50% | NA |
| Walmart | 60% | 60% |
| Wendys4 | 60% | NA |
| Xbox (gift cards)6 | 60% | NA |
| Xbox Game Pass Ultimate (12 month/6 month/3 month/1 month)6 | PM me | NA |
| Other Clothing Stores, Gas Stations, Grocery Stores, Restaurant, & Fast Food gift cards | PM me |
What I don’t buy:
Any fees are built into the price.
- Amazon.au
- Bass Pro Shop
- buffalo wild wing
- Canadian tire
- Cold Stone
- Dairy Queen
- Fanatics
- Google Play
- Hilton Honors
- Hot Topic
- iTunes from anywhere but the US
- Krispy Kreme
- old navy/gap/banana republic
- Patxi's pizza
- PSN Canada or UK
- publix
- Raceway
- Scheels
- Shell Gas Stations
- Spotify
- Tractor supply
- Xbox Canada or UK
- Xbox live gold
Selling
I have:$500 in Amazon (can be broken up) and am selling at
- 80%: WesternUnion
- 85%: btc
- 90%: Apple Pay, Chime, or PayPal
2023.03.24 14:00 seeldoger47 [H] $500 Amazon [W] 80% Western Union, 90% PayPal [H] Cash App, Crypto, Chime, Apple Pay, or Venmo [W] 80% Western Union Apple, Amazon (CA, Com, DE, ES, FR, IT, UK), B&N, Dunkin, eBay, Grub Hub, Gyft, iTunes, JCPenney, Microsoft, PSN, Steam, Target, Uber, Walmart, Xbox + more
You can download the WesternUnion app and send the payment from your phone.
Desktop Users: Comment on this post and Click here to start a trade App Users, please include the following in your PM (Remember to comment on this post as well):
- Type of card(s) and amount of each.
- What payment method you accept.
- How you acquired the GC and why you're getting rid of it.
I only have Steam as a substitute for cash payments in gift card trades.
| Want ↓ | Cash or a Gift Card ↓ | BTC ↓ |
|---|---|---|
| Apple | 60%4 | NA |
| Amazon.ca | 50% | 50% |
| Amazon.co.uk | 50% | 50% |
| Amazon.com | 70% | 55% |
| Amazon.de | 50% | 50% |
| Amazon.es | 50% | 50% |
| Amazon.fr | 50% | 50% |
| Amazon.it | 50% | 50% |
| Amazon.jp | 30% | 30% |
| Arrow Films | 65% | 60% |
| Barnes & Noble | 50% | 50% |
| Baskin Robbins | 60% | 60% |
| Best Buy | 60% | 60% |
| BJ's (not BJ's restaurant)4 | 60% | NA |
| Bloomingdales | 50% | 50% |
| Burger King4 | 60% | NA |
| Clothing Shops (Small Boutique) | contact me | contact me |
| Dell4 | 60% | NA |
| Delta gift cards4 | 65% | NA |
| Delta Sky Miles4 | PM me | NA |
| Delta Vouchers4 | 65% | NA |
| Dicks Sporting Goods 4 | PM me | NA |
| Disney Plus | PM me | PM me |
| DoorDash | 70%6 | NA |
| Dunkin Donuts4 | 60% | NA |
| eBay | 70% | 70% |
| Fandango4 | 10% | NA |
| Five Guys4 | 60% | NA |
| Gamestop | 60% | 60% |
| Gas Station Cards4 | PM me | NA |
| Grub Hub | 70%6 | NA |
| Gyft | 70% | 70% |
| Half Price Books | 50% | 50% |
| HBO4 | 70% | NA |
| iTunes4 | 60% | NA |
| J crew | 40% | 40% |
| JCPenney | 25% | 25% |
| Jersey Mike Subs4 | 60% | NA |
| KFC4 | 60% | NA |
| Khols | 30% | 30% |
| Macys | 35% | 35% |
| Magazines.com | 40% | 40% |
| McDonald's 4 | 60% | NA |
| Microsoft6 | 60% | NA |
| Moe’s Southwestern Grill4 | 60% | NA |
| Nintendo Eshop6 | 70% | NA |
| Nordstrom | 50% | 50% |
| Panera bread4 | 60% | NA |
| PSN6 | 60 | NA |
| PSN Plus 12 month4 | NA | NA |
| Saks Fifth Avenue | 50% | 50% |
| Sears | 50% | 50% |
| Sephora | 50% | 50% |
| Speedway4 | 80% | NA |
| Starbucks | 55% | 55% |
| Steam6 | 60% | NA |
| Subway 4 | PM me | NA |
| Taco Bell | 60% | NA |
| Target | 50% | 50% |
| Uber6 | 70% | NA |
| Urban Outfitters | 50% | 50% |
| Vudu4 | 50% | NA |
| Walmart | 60% | 60% |
| Wendys4 | 60% | NA |
| Xbox (gift cards)6 | 60% | NA |
| Xbox Game Pass Ultimate (12 month/6 month/3 month/1 month)6 | PM me | NA |
| Other Clothing Stores, Gas Stations, Grocery Stores, Restaurant, & Fast Food gift cards | PM me |
What I don’t buy:
Any fees are built into the price.
- Amazon.au
- Bass Pro Shop
- buffalo wild wing
- Canadian tire
- Cold Stone
- Dairy Queen
- Fanatics
- Google Play
- Hilton Honors
- Hot Topic
- iTunes from anywhere but the US
- Krispy Kreme
- old navy/gap/banana republic
- Patxi's pizza
- PSN Canada or UK
- publix
- Raceway
- Scheels
- Shell Gas Stations
- Spotify
- Tractor supply
- Xbox Canada or UK
- Xbox live gold
Selling
I have:$500 in Amazon (can be broken up) and am selling at
- 80%: WesternUnion
- 85%: btc
- 90%: Apple Pay, Chime, or PayPal
2023.03.24 13:57 rephlexi0n The Universe's Final Creation
Let me start by saying I’m breaching contract by sharing this. If the company’s lookouts link this post to me – which they will – I’ll be disgraced, and any chance at getting a job in this profession again will be out of the picture. I have the common sense to keep my name unknown, but all that’s gonna do is slow them down.
Keeping this hidden would be a crime against humanity of the highest order. You all deserve to know, as terrible as it is.
I work at an unnamed technological research company as, you guessed it, a researcher. In recent years, we’ve made astonishing advancements in developing technology that can interact with and harness tachyons.
Tachyons are particles that travel faster than light; that’s the most important part. They’ve been a subject of theoretical physics since the late 60s, but as far as public knowledge goes, they’re still just that. Theoretical.
But they are most certainly real. Well, not “tachyons” per se, though their behaviour is equatable. I won’t bore you with the technicalities, but the result of a particle travelling faster than light is that said particle is able to, effectively, travel backwards in time.
My other group members and I have been experimenting with these particles for the best part of two years now. We’ve made major advances, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about.
Yesterday, 23/03/2023, at 09:07 am, my equipment detected a tachyon signal. This was in the morning, mind you, and no tests had yet been carried out. From what I can tell, this signal originated – or, rather, will originate – from elsewhere.
Playing it out loud, it at first just sounded like a garbled mess of frequencies. But after observing the audio structure, I found it to be made up of thousands of tones, of which there were only two types – long, and short.
The realisation hit pretty quick. It was Morse code, or, at least, it could be interpreted as such. The most fundamental form of digital communication known to man. So, I ran it through an auto-interpreter a few times, and got a fully coherent message.
I refuse to believe that I’m seeing patterns where there are none. The chances are so astronomically low that I can’t feasibly consider it to be a random signal, especially considering I’ve never received one from somewhere outside the lab.
I’m going to copy over the translation here. I do not wish to instil panic, but please, spread this post. People need to be aware that this is a real possibility.
To whomever is reading this, prepare yourself.
Here it is.
[TRANSCRIPT BEGIN]
Hi.
My name is Tim Hermelle. Before I write down this account, I should insist that this is the truth. This is happening to us all right now. This is not a joke, prank, or an interactive project.
This is the truth. You HAVE to believe what you are about to read, for our sakes.
Okay, with that out of the way… shit, it’s getting closer. I’ll write down what I can before we’re pulled back to the city, to join the others. I hope enough context is given in my account for you to fully understand.
I live - lived - in the great city of Pharades (that’s Pha-ra-dees). The utopia of humanity’s future. Life was amazing. Every aspect brought joy and satisfaction to every person. No hunger, thirst, no overpopulation, pollution… a Nirvana if there ever was. The level of advancement may be difficult for some of you to believe
Work was optional, and automatons would fill the spaces left by those choosing to pursue their own personal dreams. Even so, a large number of people here still choose to have jobs, vocations I suppose. Healthcare was unparalleled, and not one person has died during my time here.
Everything major was decided by a vote. It was the perfect democratic system, but I’m no politician, so I wouldn’t be able to explain to you why that is.
Hell, we even had a collective vote to decide the next week’s weather every Sunday. That’s right, we’d taken control of the weather. Want to splash around in puddles, smelling the petrichor? Maybe get a tan on? You’d just have to go and vote for it.
Pharades was, without hyperbole, fucking beautiful. In between the city blocks, there were great swathes of woodland and meadows. Crystal rivers flowed underneath silver bridges, and leaves of every colour painted the landscape like polka dots.
And the city itself, well, they say nature trumps anything manmade in terms of beauty, but I disagree. The intricately designed towers were accented by all the most complementary colours, gold, chrome, red, blue, any combination you could imagine, it was here. Arches, spirals, and patterns of every variety adorned the structures.
The day in question was a Wednesday – not that days of the week held any particular significance anymore. I’d planned to meet with two of my buddies, Erin and Tuan, at our favourite coffee shop a couple of districts over, in the Wantania area.
Historically, the journey may have been arduous, or frustrating. Not now. Most people didn’t even use vehicles anymore – instead, the city had built a vast underground network of ever-shifting and rearranging tracks, called “Tubyrinth”. Each person owned a personal pod of sorts, customisable to any degree.
I input Wantania Central, and hopped inside. My pod contained a sofa and a minifridge, stocked up with my favourite drinks. The journey was always snappy. Each time, the underground superstructure would arrange a new and unique track to be used, direct to a reserved bay.
Just fifteen minutes later, I was stood under the vaulted, ornamental expanse of the station roof, a hundred or so feet above. I always stopped here to just stare upwards for a moment, absorbing the imaginative architecture.
After exiting the station, I was surprised to see that both Erin and Tuan were already waiting for me outside. The good kind of surprised, that slaps a goofy smile onto your face.
“Took you long enough!” Tuan chuckled, finding the irony in his own words hilarious.
“God, I know right?” added Erin, “I was worried I’d need crutches after standing out here waiting!”
“Well, heh, you’re not gonna like this next part,” I joked, and we set off down the street, laughing. Our favourite café was called “Beansmith’s Forge”. It was a cheesy, but endearing name, and the theme fit the three of us like a glove; as I said before, we’d been working on worldbuilding for our fantasy RPG, an immersive neurolink VR experience, where the player could design their own character and have a unique questline auto-generated out of a complex system.
We ordered brunch, and, of course, coffee. I won’t get into the details of our talks, but we quickly finished up, paid, and set off down Gerben Street.
The more exciting event of the day was our session booked at the aptly named Noji Box, something you could call an “anti-grav playground”. Admittedly, I’ve never fully known how it works, just that it involves paired wormholes, immensely powerful electromagnets, and a huge vacuum-chamber.
One thing I was always grateful for was that the automatons, who I saw working robotically through storefront windows, were withheld any accurate human likeness – I’m sure you’ve heard of the uncanny valley, so you’ll know what I mean. They fell just short of it.
All was calm on the walk, as to be expected. We made it to the Noji Box in good time, ten minutes before our session booking. I get it’s company policy to take everyone through the safety basics, but it was admittedly a little boring after many, many past visits.
The only real requirement was that you’d have to wear an “osteopatic suit”. No, osteostatic? Something about keeping your bones from floating away from each other, or from disappearing over time.
We were suited up, ready to enter “S.S. Slamdown”, when a sudden tremor shook the building’s foundations. Everyone shared the same puzzled expression – not once had something like that ever happened in Pharades.
The staff looked a bit stumped at first. I guess they never had to deal with a situation like this in the past. To our dismay, but unsurprisingly, our session was cancelled, and we were told that they would call us later to sort out a re-booking.
I had the strangest feeling when we left and began back down the road. Something similar to déjà vu, but not quite. Like nostalgia, but without the accompanying feeling of reminiscence or joy.
Trying to brush it off, I distracted my mind by humming a tune. I didn’t know what it was from, at the time, but I knew it was a stringed melody. A violin? Thing is, I wasn’t really humming it as much as hearing it in my head.
We rounded a corner, and Erin paused in surprise.
“Oh, that’s… hey, that’s Jeremiah! He’s been playing that fiddle the street over from mine for the past, what, two weeks? Come on, let’s go listen.”
I grew confused when we approached, only to hear the exact same melody that had just been looping in my head. Before I’d heard this guy playing. I don’t remember stumbling upon this particular street performer before this point.
We stood listening for a few minutes, then continued our walk. Thoughts no longer infested with that tune, I was hit with what I can only describe as a taste. The savoury taste of something on my tongue, complete with mustard and relish. Meat of some kind?
The concern started to flourish when we came upon a food truck, and Tuan asked if we were hungry. Sure, we’d just eaten at the coffee shop, but I could fit in one more tasty bite. He offered to pay, which we gladly accepted, and he returned with… hotdogs. With mustard. And relish.
My gratitude masked the ever-growing confusion within me. Was this just a weird coincidence, or something else? Did I know we were going to get hotdogs?
We wound up back at the station, where a feeling of detached sorrow welled up inside me, something you might feel after recalling a bad memory from which you’ve since recovered. I understood then that I would run into my on-good-terms ex inside. But, before we could enter, another rumbling tremor swept across the street, followed by the clamour of destruction and screams from inside.
A grey dust cloud plumed out from the entrance, sweeping us off of our feet. I saw Erin flipped face-first into the pavement, just as I caught my heel on the base of a stop sign. Yet another quake boomed underneath the asphalt.
The asphalt I was falling down onto… but the impact didn’t come. Instead of a hard surface, the sensation of falling went on. You know that feeling when you think there’s another step at the bottom of the stairs, only to find the floor instead? It was just like that.
The ground I fell upon wasn’t asphalt. It rang out as I collided, almost hollow-sounding. Metallic. Maybe it was just my head ringing, but without a doubt, I was not in the street anymore.
I sat up, and my palms confirmed I was on a metal floor, the kind with those diamond-shaped grips. Looking around almost caused a complete sensory overload, immediately. A multitude of flashing lights, screens, wires, buttons, and all sorts decorated the room. It looked not far off from the control room of an intelligence agency – at least, how they’re depicted in movies.
I got onto one knee and pivoted to look around. The tall man standing directly behind me almost led to a second fall, but instead I scooted backward frantically at the sight.
The man – well, I say “man”, but this person didn’t really have any distinguishing features. They were wearing a spotless black and white cloak of some kind, and a metal cage covering the upper half of their face, so that only their mouth was visible.
They stood still, not reacting to my show of surprise, then spoke in the most androgynous voice conceivable.
“How did you get in here?”
I scanned the room, finding that there were no obvious entrances anywhere around, like we were inside a closed-off box.
“I- uh, I fell over, a-and next thing I know – here,” I stuttered.
“Well, you shouldn’t be here, and there’s no way that you should be able to get here.”
I stood up, feeling a little more comfortable in the presence of this stranger, though not letting my guard down entirely. Now, I could see the pictures displayed across the screens – they seemed to be feeds of countless locations in Pharades, streets, woodlands, you name it.
“What… what the hell’s going on here? Who are you? Why are you spying on the city?”
The stranger didn’t seem amused, being pelted with questions, and held up a hand, gesturing me to stop. They let out a deep, held breath.
“Well, since you’re here, I may as well enlighten you. Take a seat.”
So I did. I sat in shock and disbelief for the next five minutes as the person answered all my questions, even the ones I didn’t know I wanted to ask. They introduced themselves simply as “Administrator”, but I chose “Admin”, to avoid the mouthful.
Admin proceeded to tell me the truth, as casually as one would talk about the weather.
It wasn’t real.
A simulation.
They told me we were inside a highly advanced, self-sustaining, supercomputer pod travelling through deep space, harvesting energy from ions extracted from the surrounding vacuum. Over a hundred trillion years ago, those living here now consented in having their consciousness imported to the device.
On top of the ion harvesting, power was supposedly generated from emotions experienced by a consciousness – the more intense an emotion or feeling, the more power generated.
I interrupted the monologue at this point with a question they hadn’t seemed to consider,
“Let’s say I believe what you’re saying. If this system’s been up for as long as you say, why did I only just have my 29th birthday, what, two months back now?”
“I understand your concern, but allow me to continue. Every 50 years, it is reset. All your memories are wiped and locked away until the moments when you would again make those memories. There are only a set number of people who were uploaded to the system, and their minds cannot simply be deleted if they were to die.”
Not only a simulation, but an endless loop? My brain felt like it might burst.
“Wait,” I said, “if we’re reset every time, and everything plays out the same… then, we can’t possibly have any free will of our own, right?”
“I suppose you could say that. But the illusion we, I, have worked tirelessly to maintain, gives the impression that you do.”
“Wh… what? So, the original me signed up for this? But I’m not him! I’m a copy, aren’t I? Do I have a choice in this?”
“There is no way for me to erase any person that lives here. Only if the pod itself is damaged or destroyed, can I, or anyone else, truly die. The Great Stellar Extinction has come and gone, and all that remains outside is cold, and dark. A handful of black and brown dwarves, and black holes. To my knowledge.”
The sudden feeling of intense, hollow loneliness filled up my chest. We were alone in a great black sea of nothingness. My slack jaw must have told Admin I didn’t have the capacity to speak.
“Over time, I have lost contact with the hundreds of thousands of other pods that were ejected from Earth all that time ago. Either they are too far now, or they met a destructive end. I can’t say which is the better, anymore.”
Absorbing the sudden truth, the emptiness evolved into anger.
“Let me get this straight. We, living our lives down there, are puppets to you? Is that it? Just an endless cycle of digital paradise, kept in the dark of all you’ve just told me? How can you possibly justify this?!”
“Calm down. Having your memories wiped is a luxury I cannot afford. Anyway, that’s only the preface of what I need to talk about. I’m sure you also noticed the tremors, down there?”
“The tremors? Oh, oh yeah. Sort of ruined my plans, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.”
“I didn’t do anything. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Whatever the cause, it’s not within this pod.”
I took it all in. A system malfunction? Why did the Admin feel the need to share this with me?
“Is… is that why, maybe, that I could predict some of the things that happened afterwards?”
“It’s worse than I thought. The memory suppression seems to be failing.”
Both of us paused for a moment. The silence was deafening.
“I’ve been taking readings on the external sensors. There’s… something out there. An object. It’s been following us for a while now, but with no starlight left, I don’t know what it is. Space debris couldn’t move on its own accord like this thing is.”
“What are you trying to say?” I sputtered, the dread I felt deepening by the second.
“I’m saying that something has found us.”
My blood ran cold. Found us? What could have found us?
“Didn’t you say all the stars are dead? The universe is just darkness now. What could have found us? What?”
“I wish I had the answers, too. I don’t think we’re safe anymore. The most recent readings imply that whatever it is, it’s latched onto the pod somehow. Possibly-“
Admin was cut off by the loud screech of static from the speakers around the room. Their head shot up to the nearest corner in a manner that set me on a knife’s edge.
The tremors returned with a vengeance now, and the both of us were sent sprawling onto the floor. I didn’t fall through it this time, though. Sparks flew and monitors went offline.
I was about to ask what we should do, when the roaring static settled, and something else started to play.
An innocent, childlike giggle. Gurgled coos, infantile squeals of joy that pierced my eardrums like needles and left them ringing. Remembering the sounds that came from those speakers make my insides twist and yearn to escape my body, knowing what came next.
The laughter grew, and so did the tremors. The room started to collapse, wires and boxes raining down upon us. Well, not really collapse, no, but change. The far wall crumpled, like something on the other side assailed it with forceful impacts, and the room began to shrink.
As if that dark place wasn’t claustrophobic enough, the ceiling, walls, everything began to close in on us. All the while, the childlike giggling only grew in joy. I thought we were to be crushed and snapped by the pressure, when we were abruptly freed.
It had happened again. Pushed through the floor and spat out somewhere else. This time, I – we – found ourselves near a paved road leading out of one of the city blocks, into a green meadow which gave way to trees a ways down.
Something was terribly wrong. Only after brushing myself off and standing up did I become aware of the swirling darkness that replaced the once baby-blue sky, with its cotton candy clouds. A heavy and unsettling calm had fallen upon us, dampening the city’s brilliance. No more did sunlight gleam off the ornate spires and arches, replaced by a still, hanging shadow.
The eerie quiet was shattered by that godforsaken crackling, booming across the landscape, despite not a speaker in sight, again followed by those ill-belonging coos and cries. Accompanying the infantile sputtering came an uproar of cracking and crumbling, great impacts from deep within the city’s heart.
Both Admin and I stared in disbelief as distant buildings sunk into the ground, while others twisted and warped their way into the sky, as if made from soft clay. Some just disappeared entirely, leaving not a shred of evidence behind that they had ever been there, while their former inhabitants plunged from storeys above.
“It’s taken my place.”
Those four unprompted words shook me to the core of my being. The god of this world had been usurped.
“But why?” I found myself asking, “with what motive?”
Admin went to reply, but stopped upon seeing the great, pinkish masses floating up out of the streets, far ahead. We stared in bewilderment, trying to make out what they were. The chorus of screams hurried us to the realisation that the balls were… they were made of people.
Agonised, howling faces littered the fleshy abominations, while more objects rose around them. Structural beams, signposts, metal objects of every kind gravitated toward the amalgams of humanity, before their relentless assaults began.
Ripping, tearing, stabbing, slicing… it was already too much for my mind to comprehend. It garnered no reaction from myself other than stunned shock. Flesh and blood spewed from the masses, and orbited around them like the rings of Saturn, falling back in to haphazardly patch themselves back onto the wailing people.
My thoughtless attention was redirected as a frantic deluge of citizens fled the city, running down the street towards us. One by one, the exodus was halted, people seeming to stop in place abruptly, though the screams did not relent.
I couldn’t see what had stopped them until the crowd drew closer, where I saw an elderly man whip forward, foot stuck fast, instantly snapping his knee from the momentum. He let out a heart-wrenching cry as he fell down and looked to see what had stopped him.
Something that looked like roots, water pipes maybe, had erupted through the tarmac and coiled their way up his leg. I could see the strength draining in his eyes as they stood him back upright by force, wrapping around his entire body.
I watched in abject horror as he was raised off the ground, and each and every one of the old man’s limbs were bent and snapped at unnatural angles, shattering frail bones into dust.
His feeble cries were promptly silenced as a squirming metal tube forced its way inside his mouth, his eyes rolling back in unfathomable agony as the bulging mass forced its way down his throat, splitting his ribcage apart and allowing the organs within to slop out and float in the air, as if weightless. The whole process seemed to reverse itself in time, then repeat, over and over.
I could only hear the echoes of Admin’s shouts and the faint sensation of their grip on my forearm as they pulled me away from the mind-bending atrocity. My vacant body tumbled backward, sending both of us falling onto the grass.
Still I could only sit there, frozen. Somewhere off to the right, I saw a young woman pulling presumably her daughter along by the wrist, fleeing the hellscape of flesh and bone down a small alley. Her head spun wildly as she noticed the walls of the alleyway closing in around them.
She burst out into the open, but was yanked back, her grip fast. She turned in desperation, only to see her daughter, who couldn’t have been more than seven, being slowly crushed into a paste of bloody flesh and yellow fat. Her pitiful screams still ring in my ears, seeing her child suffer such a terrible fate.
Admin was finally triumphant in breaking my trance, and I rushed to my feet, stumbling before gaining my footing and bolting the fuck out of there. The childish giggling echoing out over the sky only served to push me forwards and away from that place.
“What the fuck is going on?!” I yelped, glancing over to Admin, hoping they could offer just the slightest of explanations.
“I have an idea, but we need to get somewhere first. You see that hill through the woods, right over there?”
“Hill? To the observatory?”
“There’s one last thing we can try to stop this. It’s a shot in the dark, but I can’t just stand here and fade away with the rest.”
High speed winds whipped the trees as we ran below them, leaves fluttering in a wild seizure. Air-splitting cracks sounded, so loud my ears began to ring once more, and I looked over my shoulder to see what they could have been.
Blazing spouts of fire shot down from the clouds behind, more akin to lightning than anything, striking the forsaken with white-hot temperatures. Even from a distance, I could see skin and flesh melt off of bones like candle wax, forming spiralling clouds of organic vapour.
In my distraction, I ran straight into a tree, and tumbled over, blood leaking from a small cut on my forehead. Admin skidded to a stop and pulled me up to my feet, and ran onwards, not waiting for a moment to ask if I was okay.
Neither of us were okay. That was a given now.
We reached the top of the hill without too much effort – seems it was programmed for everyone to have an above-average level of fitness, young or old regardless.
Admin frantically, but methodically, sifted through what appeared to be a large hoop of keys, searching for the one to fit the observatory’s door. I looked back over to where we had fled from.
The twisted buildings coiled toward the sky, gargantuan talons holding captive everyone I’d ever known. But there was something else. Far behind the city, in the distant hills and woodland, a great black wave that spanned the horizon was travelling towards us, eviscerating the world itself. All it left behind was an endless chasm of darkness, defying reality itself.
The tsunami came closer, before stopping at the city’s outskirts, leaving only a towering earthen spire of suffering, flaming bolts cracking down upon it.
“Admin, what is going on?!”
They paused for a moment, then continued working on the several locks barring our entry.
“Do you remember what I told you earlier, when you found me? How this system is able to keep on running, over the trillions of years?”
“…ions?”
“Yes, but that’s only the basis. I told you that emotional activity generates power, yes? The more intense an emotion, the more power generated?”
“What are you getting at?”
“This is pure theory, but I believe that whatever is out there is feeding off of the system.”
“Is that why all that was happening? The-“
I stifled a gag, recalling the horrors fresh in my memory.
“Again, it’s a theory. I don’t understand what it is. If the constraints of the universe are loose enough for something to evolve in its endless darkness, to predate on the last sources of energy within it… I don’t know. And I doubt we ever will.”
I stared out at the hellscape, speechless. Finally, Admin found the right key, yanked the door open, and pulled me inside by the arm.
“Hey!” Admin yelled, snapping their fingers, “I need you to be present for this. I am restricted in this world, I can’t break and reform things like you can. A failsafe, for if the power were to go to my head. Follow my instructions exactly.”
They told me how to break apart some of the technology in the observatory, and rewire it into a different machine. I had no idea what we were creating at the time, but complied nonetheless.
The finished product was a makeshift beacon of some kind, connected to the nearby terminal.
“Thank you. Now, type.”
“Type what?”
“Everything that has happened. Add as many details as you can, because we won’t have another chance to get this out there.”
“O-okay, what is this thing? A radio?”
“In a way. The observatory is one of the only places here that has a connection to the outside. I have used it more than once to observe the universe fading away. This setup will send our transmission as a unique, superluminal type of wave. Hurry, we can’t waste time chatting about this.”
And so, here we are. I don’t know who will be hearing this, if anyone at all.
I beg of you, consider how our advancements might be our downfall.
It’s almost here. I can hear the flaming bolts striking the forest, closer.
This is my account. Please save us. Please spare us.
Don’t condemn us as you have.
[TRANSCRIPT END]
There it is. I’ve revised the translation more times than I can count, and I’m sure there’s no mistake here.
Other readings imply that this message has travelled an unimaginably vast distance, and not only over space. Repeated triangulation only tells me this came from above, somewhere far away, among the stars.
I can feel the edges of my mind singeing. This can’t be proven as truth, nor can it be discredited. There’s no possible way to explain how this message came from our own planet.
I’m trying to be rational, but I think we need to consider future development very carefully. As a people, we have always rushed through our technological advancements at an incredible speed, not stopping to consider all the consequences that might follow.
If anyone will believe this, please spread it around. I have no doubt this post will be taken down the moment they find it. As for myself, I’ll be disgraced, probably. Stuck in a cold cell, most likely.
Spread the word. The fact that the higher-ups will attempt to conceal this is a cruel thing indeed, if any of it’s true.
Signing off.
submitted by rephlexi0n to rephlect [link] [comments]
Keeping this hidden would be a crime against humanity of the highest order. You all deserve to know, as terrible as it is.
I work at an unnamed technological research company as, you guessed it, a researcher. In recent years, we’ve made astonishing advancements in developing technology that can interact with and harness tachyons.
Tachyons are particles that travel faster than light; that’s the most important part. They’ve been a subject of theoretical physics since the late 60s, but as far as public knowledge goes, they’re still just that. Theoretical.
But they are most certainly real. Well, not “tachyons” per se, though their behaviour is equatable. I won’t bore you with the technicalities, but the result of a particle travelling faster than light is that said particle is able to, effectively, travel backwards in time.
My other group members and I have been experimenting with these particles for the best part of two years now. We’ve made major advances, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about.
Yesterday, 23/03/2023, at 09:07 am, my equipment detected a tachyon signal. This was in the morning, mind you, and no tests had yet been carried out. From what I can tell, this signal originated – or, rather, will originate – from elsewhere.
Playing it out loud, it at first just sounded like a garbled mess of frequencies. But after observing the audio structure, I found it to be made up of thousands of tones, of which there were only two types – long, and short.
The realisation hit pretty quick. It was Morse code, or, at least, it could be interpreted as such. The most fundamental form of digital communication known to man. So, I ran it through an auto-interpreter a few times, and got a fully coherent message.
I refuse to believe that I’m seeing patterns where there are none. The chances are so astronomically low that I can’t feasibly consider it to be a random signal, especially considering I’ve never received one from somewhere outside the lab.
I’m going to copy over the translation here. I do not wish to instil panic, but please, spread this post. People need to be aware that this is a real possibility.
To whomever is reading this, prepare yourself.
Here it is.
[TRANSCRIPT BEGIN]
Hi.
My name is Tim Hermelle. Before I write down this account, I should insist that this is the truth. This is happening to us all right now. This is not a joke, prank, or an interactive project.
This is the truth. You HAVE to believe what you are about to read, for our sakes.
Okay, with that out of the way… shit, it’s getting closer. I’ll write down what I can before we’re pulled back to the city, to join the others. I hope enough context is given in my account for you to fully understand.
I live - lived - in the great city of Pharades (that’s Pha-ra-dees). The utopia of humanity’s future. Life was amazing. Every aspect brought joy and satisfaction to every person. No hunger, thirst, no overpopulation, pollution… a Nirvana if there ever was. The level of advancement may be difficult for some of you to believe
Work was optional, and automatons would fill the spaces left by those choosing to pursue their own personal dreams. Even so, a large number of people here still choose to have jobs, vocations I suppose. Healthcare was unparalleled, and not one person has died during my time here.
Everything major was decided by a vote. It was the perfect democratic system, but I’m no politician, so I wouldn’t be able to explain to you why that is.
Hell, we even had a collective vote to decide the next week’s weather every Sunday. That’s right, we’d taken control of the weather. Want to splash around in puddles, smelling the petrichor? Maybe get a tan on? You’d just have to go and vote for it.
Pharades was, without hyperbole, fucking beautiful. In between the city blocks, there were great swathes of woodland and meadows. Crystal rivers flowed underneath silver bridges, and leaves of every colour painted the landscape like polka dots.
And the city itself, well, they say nature trumps anything manmade in terms of beauty, but I disagree. The intricately designed towers were accented by all the most complementary colours, gold, chrome, red, blue, any combination you could imagine, it was here. Arches, spirals, and patterns of every variety adorned the structures.
The day in question was a Wednesday – not that days of the week held any particular significance anymore. I’d planned to meet with two of my buddies, Erin and Tuan, at our favourite coffee shop a couple of districts over, in the Wantania area.
Historically, the journey may have been arduous, or frustrating. Not now. Most people didn’t even use vehicles anymore – instead, the city had built a vast underground network of ever-shifting and rearranging tracks, called “Tubyrinth”. Each person owned a personal pod of sorts, customisable to any degree.
I input Wantania Central, and hopped inside. My pod contained a sofa and a minifridge, stocked up with my favourite drinks. The journey was always snappy. Each time, the underground superstructure would arrange a new and unique track to be used, direct to a reserved bay.
Just fifteen minutes later, I was stood under the vaulted, ornamental expanse of the station roof, a hundred or so feet above. I always stopped here to just stare upwards for a moment, absorbing the imaginative architecture.
After exiting the station, I was surprised to see that both Erin and Tuan were already waiting for me outside. The good kind of surprised, that slaps a goofy smile onto your face.
“Took you long enough!” Tuan chuckled, finding the irony in his own words hilarious.
“God, I know right?” added Erin, “I was worried I’d need crutches after standing out here waiting!”
“Well, heh, you’re not gonna like this next part,” I joked, and we set off down the street, laughing. Our favourite café was called “Beansmith’s Forge”. It was a cheesy, but endearing name, and the theme fit the three of us like a glove; as I said before, we’d been working on worldbuilding for our fantasy RPG, an immersive neurolink VR experience, where the player could design their own character and have a unique questline auto-generated out of a complex system.
We ordered brunch, and, of course, coffee. I won’t get into the details of our talks, but we quickly finished up, paid, and set off down Gerben Street.
The more exciting event of the day was our session booked at the aptly named Noji Box, something you could call an “anti-grav playground”. Admittedly, I’ve never fully known how it works, just that it involves paired wormholes, immensely powerful electromagnets, and a huge vacuum-chamber.
One thing I was always grateful for was that the automatons, who I saw working robotically through storefront windows, were withheld any accurate human likeness – I’m sure you’ve heard of the uncanny valley, so you’ll know what I mean. They fell just short of it.
All was calm on the walk, as to be expected. We made it to the Noji Box in good time, ten minutes before our session booking. I get it’s company policy to take everyone through the safety basics, but it was admittedly a little boring after many, many past visits.
The only real requirement was that you’d have to wear an “osteopatic suit”. No, osteostatic? Something about keeping your bones from floating away from each other, or from disappearing over time.
We were suited up, ready to enter “S.S. Slamdown”, when a sudden tremor shook the building’s foundations. Everyone shared the same puzzled expression – not once had something like that ever happened in Pharades.
The staff looked a bit stumped at first. I guess they never had to deal with a situation like this in the past. To our dismay, but unsurprisingly, our session was cancelled, and we were told that they would call us later to sort out a re-booking.
I had the strangest feeling when we left and began back down the road. Something similar to déjà vu, but not quite. Like nostalgia, but without the accompanying feeling of reminiscence or joy.
Trying to brush it off, I distracted my mind by humming a tune. I didn’t know what it was from, at the time, but I knew it was a stringed melody. A violin? Thing is, I wasn’t really humming it as much as hearing it in my head.
We rounded a corner, and Erin paused in surprise.
“Oh, that’s… hey, that’s Jeremiah! He’s been playing that fiddle the street over from mine for the past, what, two weeks? Come on, let’s go listen.”
I grew confused when we approached, only to hear the exact same melody that had just been looping in my head. Before I’d heard this guy playing. I don’t remember stumbling upon this particular street performer before this point.
We stood listening for a few minutes, then continued our walk. Thoughts no longer infested with that tune, I was hit with what I can only describe as a taste. The savoury taste of something on my tongue, complete with mustard and relish. Meat of some kind?
The concern started to flourish when we came upon a food truck, and Tuan asked if we were hungry. Sure, we’d just eaten at the coffee shop, but I could fit in one more tasty bite. He offered to pay, which we gladly accepted, and he returned with… hotdogs. With mustard. And relish.
My gratitude masked the ever-growing confusion within me. Was this just a weird coincidence, or something else? Did I know we were going to get hotdogs?
We wound up back at the station, where a feeling of detached sorrow welled up inside me, something you might feel after recalling a bad memory from which you’ve since recovered. I understood then that I would run into my on-good-terms ex inside. But, before we could enter, another rumbling tremor swept across the street, followed by the clamour of destruction and screams from inside.
A grey dust cloud plumed out from the entrance, sweeping us off of our feet. I saw Erin flipped face-first into the pavement, just as I caught my heel on the base of a stop sign. Yet another quake boomed underneath the asphalt.
The asphalt I was falling down onto… but the impact didn’t come. Instead of a hard surface, the sensation of falling went on. You know that feeling when you think there’s another step at the bottom of the stairs, only to find the floor instead? It was just like that.
The ground I fell upon wasn’t asphalt. It rang out as I collided, almost hollow-sounding. Metallic. Maybe it was just my head ringing, but without a doubt, I was not in the street anymore.
I sat up, and my palms confirmed I was on a metal floor, the kind with those diamond-shaped grips. Looking around almost caused a complete sensory overload, immediately. A multitude of flashing lights, screens, wires, buttons, and all sorts decorated the room. It looked not far off from the control room of an intelligence agency – at least, how they’re depicted in movies.
I got onto one knee and pivoted to look around. The tall man standing directly behind me almost led to a second fall, but instead I scooted backward frantically at the sight.
The man – well, I say “man”, but this person didn’t really have any distinguishing features. They were wearing a spotless black and white cloak of some kind, and a metal cage covering the upper half of their face, so that only their mouth was visible.
They stood still, not reacting to my show of surprise, then spoke in the most androgynous voice conceivable.
“How did you get in here?”
I scanned the room, finding that there were no obvious entrances anywhere around, like we were inside a closed-off box.
“I- uh, I fell over, a-and next thing I know – here,” I stuttered.
“Well, you shouldn’t be here, and there’s no way that you should be able to get here.”
I stood up, feeling a little more comfortable in the presence of this stranger, though not letting my guard down entirely. Now, I could see the pictures displayed across the screens – they seemed to be feeds of countless locations in Pharades, streets, woodlands, you name it.
“What… what the hell’s going on here? Who are you? Why are you spying on the city?”
The stranger didn’t seem amused, being pelted with questions, and held up a hand, gesturing me to stop. They let out a deep, held breath.
“Well, since you’re here, I may as well enlighten you. Take a seat.”
So I did. I sat in shock and disbelief for the next five minutes as the person answered all my questions, even the ones I didn’t know I wanted to ask. They introduced themselves simply as “Administrator”, but I chose “Admin”, to avoid the mouthful.
Admin proceeded to tell me the truth, as casually as one would talk about the weather.
It wasn’t real.
A simulation.
They told me we were inside a highly advanced, self-sustaining, supercomputer pod travelling through deep space, harvesting energy from ions extracted from the surrounding vacuum. Over a hundred trillion years ago, those living here now consented in having their consciousness imported to the device.
On top of the ion harvesting, power was supposedly generated from emotions experienced by a consciousness – the more intense an emotion or feeling, the more power generated.
I interrupted the monologue at this point with a question they hadn’t seemed to consider,
“Let’s say I believe what you’re saying. If this system’s been up for as long as you say, why did I only just have my 29th birthday, what, two months back now?”
“I understand your concern, but allow me to continue. Every 50 years, it is reset. All your memories are wiped and locked away until the moments when you would again make those memories. There are only a set number of people who were uploaded to the system, and their minds cannot simply be deleted if they were to die.”
Not only a simulation, but an endless loop? My brain felt like it might burst.
“Wait,” I said, “if we’re reset every time, and everything plays out the same… then, we can’t possibly have any free will of our own, right?”
“I suppose you could say that. But the illusion we, I, have worked tirelessly to maintain, gives the impression that you do.”
“Wh… what? So, the original me signed up for this? But I’m not him! I’m a copy, aren’t I? Do I have a choice in this?”
“There is no way for me to erase any person that lives here. Only if the pod itself is damaged or destroyed, can I, or anyone else, truly die. The Great Stellar Extinction has come and gone, and all that remains outside is cold, and dark. A handful of black and brown dwarves, and black holes. To my knowledge.”
The sudden feeling of intense, hollow loneliness filled up my chest. We were alone in a great black sea of nothingness. My slack jaw must have told Admin I didn’t have the capacity to speak.
“Over time, I have lost contact with the hundreds of thousands of other pods that were ejected from Earth all that time ago. Either they are too far now, or they met a destructive end. I can’t say which is the better, anymore.”
Absorbing the sudden truth, the emptiness evolved into anger.
“Let me get this straight. We, living our lives down there, are puppets to you? Is that it? Just an endless cycle of digital paradise, kept in the dark of all you’ve just told me? How can you possibly justify this?!”
“Calm down. Having your memories wiped is a luxury I cannot afford. Anyway, that’s only the preface of what I need to talk about. I’m sure you also noticed the tremors, down there?”
“The tremors? Oh, oh yeah. Sort of ruined my plans, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.”
“I didn’t do anything. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Whatever the cause, it’s not within this pod.”
I took it all in. A system malfunction? Why did the Admin feel the need to share this with me?
“Is… is that why, maybe, that I could predict some of the things that happened afterwards?”
“It’s worse than I thought. The memory suppression seems to be failing.”
Both of us paused for a moment. The silence was deafening.
“I’ve been taking readings on the external sensors. There’s… something out there. An object. It’s been following us for a while now, but with no starlight left, I don’t know what it is. Space debris couldn’t move on its own accord like this thing is.”
“What are you trying to say?” I sputtered, the dread I felt deepening by the second.
“I’m saying that something has found us.”
My blood ran cold. Found us? What could have found us?
“Didn’t you say all the stars are dead? The universe is just darkness now. What could have found us? What?”
“I wish I had the answers, too. I don’t think we’re safe anymore. The most recent readings imply that whatever it is, it’s latched onto the pod somehow. Possibly-“
Admin was cut off by the loud screech of static from the speakers around the room. Their head shot up to the nearest corner in a manner that set me on a knife’s edge.
The tremors returned with a vengeance now, and the both of us were sent sprawling onto the floor. I didn’t fall through it this time, though. Sparks flew and monitors went offline.
I was about to ask what we should do, when the roaring static settled, and something else started to play.
An innocent, childlike giggle. Gurgled coos, infantile squeals of joy that pierced my eardrums like needles and left them ringing. Remembering the sounds that came from those speakers make my insides twist and yearn to escape my body, knowing what came next.
The laughter grew, and so did the tremors. The room started to collapse, wires and boxes raining down upon us. Well, not really collapse, no, but change. The far wall crumpled, like something on the other side assailed it with forceful impacts, and the room began to shrink.
As if that dark place wasn’t claustrophobic enough, the ceiling, walls, everything began to close in on us. All the while, the childlike giggling only grew in joy. I thought we were to be crushed and snapped by the pressure, when we were abruptly freed.
It had happened again. Pushed through the floor and spat out somewhere else. This time, I – we – found ourselves near a paved road leading out of one of the city blocks, into a green meadow which gave way to trees a ways down.
Something was terribly wrong. Only after brushing myself off and standing up did I become aware of the swirling darkness that replaced the once baby-blue sky, with its cotton candy clouds. A heavy and unsettling calm had fallen upon us, dampening the city’s brilliance. No more did sunlight gleam off the ornate spires and arches, replaced by a still, hanging shadow.
The eerie quiet was shattered by that godforsaken crackling, booming across the landscape, despite not a speaker in sight, again followed by those ill-belonging coos and cries. Accompanying the infantile sputtering came an uproar of cracking and crumbling, great impacts from deep within the city’s heart.
Both Admin and I stared in disbelief as distant buildings sunk into the ground, while others twisted and warped their way into the sky, as if made from soft clay. Some just disappeared entirely, leaving not a shred of evidence behind that they had ever been there, while their former inhabitants plunged from storeys above.
“It’s taken my place.”
Those four unprompted words shook me to the core of my being. The god of this world had been usurped.
“But why?” I found myself asking, “with what motive?”
Admin went to reply, but stopped upon seeing the great, pinkish masses floating up out of the streets, far ahead. We stared in bewilderment, trying to make out what they were. The chorus of screams hurried us to the realisation that the balls were… they were made of people.
Agonised, howling faces littered the fleshy abominations, while more objects rose around them. Structural beams, signposts, metal objects of every kind gravitated toward the amalgams of humanity, before their relentless assaults began.
Ripping, tearing, stabbing, slicing… it was already too much for my mind to comprehend. It garnered no reaction from myself other than stunned shock. Flesh and blood spewed from the masses, and orbited around them like the rings of Saturn, falling back in to haphazardly patch themselves back onto the wailing people.
My thoughtless attention was redirected as a frantic deluge of citizens fled the city, running down the street towards us. One by one, the exodus was halted, people seeming to stop in place abruptly, though the screams did not relent.
I couldn’t see what had stopped them until the crowd drew closer, where I saw an elderly man whip forward, foot stuck fast, instantly snapping his knee from the momentum. He let out a heart-wrenching cry as he fell down and looked to see what had stopped him.
Something that looked like roots, water pipes maybe, had erupted through the tarmac and coiled their way up his leg. I could see the strength draining in his eyes as they stood him back upright by force, wrapping around his entire body.
I watched in abject horror as he was raised off the ground, and each and every one of the old man’s limbs were bent and snapped at unnatural angles, shattering frail bones into dust.
His feeble cries were promptly silenced as a squirming metal tube forced its way inside his mouth, his eyes rolling back in unfathomable agony as the bulging mass forced its way down his throat, splitting his ribcage apart and allowing the organs within to slop out and float in the air, as if weightless. The whole process seemed to reverse itself in time, then repeat, over and over.
I could only hear the echoes of Admin’s shouts and the faint sensation of their grip on my forearm as they pulled me away from the mind-bending atrocity. My vacant body tumbled backward, sending both of us falling onto the grass.
Still I could only sit there, frozen. Somewhere off to the right, I saw a young woman pulling presumably her daughter along by the wrist, fleeing the hellscape of flesh and bone down a small alley. Her head spun wildly as she noticed the walls of the alleyway closing in around them.
She burst out into the open, but was yanked back, her grip fast. She turned in desperation, only to see her daughter, who couldn’t have been more than seven, being slowly crushed into a paste of bloody flesh and yellow fat. Her pitiful screams still ring in my ears, seeing her child suffer such a terrible fate.
Admin was finally triumphant in breaking my trance, and I rushed to my feet, stumbling before gaining my footing and bolting the fuck out of there. The childish giggling echoing out over the sky only served to push me forwards and away from that place.
“What the fuck is going on?!” I yelped, glancing over to Admin, hoping they could offer just the slightest of explanations.
“I have an idea, but we need to get somewhere first. You see that hill through the woods, right over there?”
“Hill? To the observatory?”
“There’s one last thing we can try to stop this. It’s a shot in the dark, but I can’t just stand here and fade away with the rest.”
High speed winds whipped the trees as we ran below them, leaves fluttering in a wild seizure. Air-splitting cracks sounded, so loud my ears began to ring once more, and I looked over my shoulder to see what they could have been.
Blazing spouts of fire shot down from the clouds behind, more akin to lightning than anything, striking the forsaken with white-hot temperatures. Even from a distance, I could see skin and flesh melt off of bones like candle wax, forming spiralling clouds of organic vapour.
In my distraction, I ran straight into a tree, and tumbled over, blood leaking from a small cut on my forehead. Admin skidded to a stop and pulled me up to my feet, and ran onwards, not waiting for a moment to ask if I was okay.
Neither of us were okay. That was a given now.
We reached the top of the hill without too much effort – seems it was programmed for everyone to have an above-average level of fitness, young or old regardless.
Admin frantically, but methodically, sifted through what appeared to be a large hoop of keys, searching for the one to fit the observatory’s door. I looked back over to where we had fled from.
The twisted buildings coiled toward the sky, gargantuan talons holding captive everyone I’d ever known. But there was something else. Far behind the city, in the distant hills and woodland, a great black wave that spanned the horizon was travelling towards us, eviscerating the world itself. All it left behind was an endless chasm of darkness, defying reality itself.
The tsunami came closer, before stopping at the city’s outskirts, leaving only a towering earthen spire of suffering, flaming bolts cracking down upon it.
“Admin, what is going on?!”
They paused for a moment, then continued working on the several locks barring our entry.
“Do you remember what I told you earlier, when you found me? How this system is able to keep on running, over the trillions of years?”
“…ions?”
“Yes, but that’s only the basis. I told you that emotional activity generates power, yes? The more intense an emotion, the more power generated?”
“What are you getting at?”
“This is pure theory, but I believe that whatever is out there is feeding off of the system.”
“Is that why all that was happening? The-“
I stifled a gag, recalling the horrors fresh in my memory.
“Again, it’s a theory. I don’t understand what it is. If the constraints of the universe are loose enough for something to evolve in its endless darkness, to predate on the last sources of energy within it… I don’t know. And I doubt we ever will.”
I stared out at the hellscape, speechless. Finally, Admin found the right key, yanked the door open, and pulled me inside by the arm.
“Hey!” Admin yelled, snapping their fingers, “I need you to be present for this. I am restricted in this world, I can’t break and reform things like you can. A failsafe, for if the power were to go to my head. Follow my instructions exactly.”
They told me how to break apart some of the technology in the observatory, and rewire it into a different machine. I had no idea what we were creating at the time, but complied nonetheless.
The finished product was a makeshift beacon of some kind, connected to the nearby terminal.
“Thank you. Now, type.”
“Type what?”
“Everything that has happened. Add as many details as you can, because we won’t have another chance to get this out there.”
“O-okay, what is this thing? A radio?”
“In a way. The observatory is one of the only places here that has a connection to the outside. I have used it more than once to observe the universe fading away. This setup will send our transmission as a unique, superluminal type of wave. Hurry, we can’t waste time chatting about this.”
And so, here we are. I don’t know who will be hearing this, if anyone at all.
I beg of you, consider how our advancements might be our downfall.
It’s almost here. I can hear the flaming bolts striking the forest, closer.
This is my account. Please save us. Please spare us.
Don’t condemn us as you have.
[TRANSCRIPT END]
There it is. I’ve revised the translation more times than I can count, and I’m sure there’s no mistake here.
Other readings imply that this message has travelled an unimaginably vast distance, and not only over space. Repeated triangulation only tells me this came from above, somewhere far away, among the stars.
I can feel the edges of my mind singeing. This can’t be proven as truth, nor can it be discredited. There’s no possible way to explain how this message came from our own planet.
I’m trying to be rational, but I think we need to consider future development very carefully. As a people, we have always rushed through our technological advancements at an incredible speed, not stopping to consider all the consequences that might follow.
If anyone will believe this, please spread it around. I have no doubt this post will be taken down the moment they find it. As for myself, I’ll be disgraced, probably. Stuck in a cold cell, most likely.
Spread the word. The fact that the higher-ups will attempt to conceal this is a cruel thing indeed, if any of it’s true.
Signing off.
2023.03.24 13:37 WhyNotBuyAGoat You know you have Celiac when...
You pack for an overnight trip and your bag is 50% snacks. 😆
I'm headed to an unfamiliar hotel and the website for the restaurant says nothing about allergens and gluten free. I'm probably living on bars and packaged snacks and apples for two days.
I thought about this while packing up this morning. Have you guys had any "you know you've got celiac when..." realizations?
If we gotta live with it we might as well see the humor in it!
submitted by WhyNotBuyAGoat to Celiac [link] [comments]
I'm headed to an unfamiliar hotel and the website for the restaurant says nothing about allergens and gluten free. I'm probably living on bars and packaged snacks and apples for two days.
I thought about this while packing up this morning. Have you guys had any "you know you've got celiac when..." realizations?
If we gotta live with it we might as well see the humor in it!
2023.03.24 13:23 AhangerHOBO Top 10 places to visit in Kashmir 2023 Ahanger HOBO
 | Ahanger HOBO offers the best Travel Packages & Services throughout the Kashmir Valley, India. submitted by AhangerHOBO to u/AhangerHOBO [link] [comments] Hotel Taxi Adventure \"Ahanger HOBO\" 1: Gurez Valley Kashmir:Gurez Valley by Ahanger HOBOGurez Valley is one of the least explored regions of Kashmir and the one that can truly be called an offbeat destination. It is a place of high scenic beauty that does not really get the attention that it truly deserves. and the natural beauty of the mountains that you see here is very different from what you will see elsewhere. Gurez, also spelled Gurais, is a valley located at a distance of about 154 kilometers from Srinagar. Due to its proximity to the border, tourist movement in the region was not allowed until a few years ago. But now, Indian nationals can travel to Gurez Valley as long as they are carrying valid government-issued identity proof (Aadhar card). Foreign nationals are required to obtain a permit from either Srinagar or Bandipora. The valley is surrounded by snow-capped mountains. It has diverse fauna and wildlife including the Himalayan brown bear and the snow leopard. The Kishanganga River flows through the valley before merging into the Jhelum River near Muzaffarabad. Razdan Pass is the only high-altitude pass between Srinagar and Gurez. Due to heavy snowfall in winter, the road remains blocked for about six months a year. Gurez Valley can be reached by road between April to Sept. The valley is divided into two districts, Dawar and Tilel. Dawar is also the central township in Gurez and this is where all the guest houses and homestays are available also there are no luxury accommodations yet located. 2: Keran Valley Kashmir:Karen Valley by Ahanger HOBOKeran is a village in Kupwara District. Keran valley got divided into two parts leaving thousands of souls separated from each other. The pain humans face due to the division of the valley can be well understood by their people. Keran is a beautiful border area with the Kishenganga River flowing through it which acts as a line of control between Pakistan and Jammu and Kashmir. The other side of the Kishanganga River is called Neelum Valley and the village located on the opposite side is also called Keran, The ancient Sharada Peeth temple, as well as the adjacent ruins of Sharada University, are situated in the same Neelam Valley just a few miles from Keran. At Sharda village where Sharda temple and University are situated in the river, Kishanganga joins Madhumati and Sargun streams. It was among the most prominent temple universities in the Indian subcontinent. Kashmiri Pandit brethren have been demanding the opening of the Sharda Peeth corridor for many years now. Keran is home to many beauties like streams, springs, rivers, mountains, dense forests including walnut trees, and to a variety of Wildlife. On the way to Keran at Firkiyan top the 360-degree view of the surroundings is mesmerizing and enchanting beauty brings goosebumps. One can witness the lush green forests, Meadows, Streams, and also the architecture of wooden houses. The wooden architecture and style of construction of the house are still standing tall all across the Keran. These precious wooden houses need to be preserved and protected and need to be promoted as heritage sites. The landslide decision of the Government of India to bring border areas like Keran, Gurez, Tangdhar, Machil, and Bangus on the tourism map has brought happiness to the faces of the People of Kashmir. These are the new tourist destinations that will facilitate peace and development in these border areas. Any non-resident traveler, wishing to visit the border areas of Keran, Karnah, and Machil has to obtain permission from District Magistrate Kupwara which is very easy as the interested person need not personally visit any Office but have to get it through online mode. A non-resident traveler can access the portal at http://epass.kupwara.co.in. and register himself/herself. In Kupwara or Kralpora Market, a traveler can hire a vehicle of his choice for Keran or can go in his own car also as conditions of the road from Kralpora to Kupwara is good except few kilometers which are not metallic but motorable. Along with a few government-owned rest houses, there are homestay facilities available for tourists. Camping tents are also available along with all basic facilities. Since the spot has recently been introduced as a tourist destination, a lot is being done to promote tourism in the area by the government particularly the Indian army is always seen giving a helping hand to the local population to lead Keran towards peace and prosperity. 3: Pahalgam Kashmir (The Village of Shepherds):Pahalgam Kashmir by Ahanger HOBOOne of the most famous and beautiful destinations in all of Kashmir Valley is Pahalgam “the Village of the Shepherds”. It is located 96km (about 3 hours’ drive) from Srinagar. Originally a sleepy wee village of Shepphards (more rumors abound that Jesus passed some time here amongst his flock!) Pahalgam has exquisite scenery of majestic pines, and blossoming high-altitude meadows looking up to snowy peaks and down into beautiful blue rivers. It is possible to enjoy a day trip to this location to get out of noisy Srinagar but the beauty of Pahalgam does not lie around the small bazaar, hotels, and parks of Pahalgam town but in the mountains past Aru. Pahalgam Town The journey from Srinagar itself gives- you a taste of what lies ahead. Noisy congested streets give way to poplars and rice fields, where flashes of color from the pink or green of a woman’s head scarf to the golden grain reflect the sunlight. You know Pahalgam is approaching when you spy the rushing and refreshing Lidder River starting to turn and gurgle. When you hit Pahalgam town, there is quite a noisy bazaar reminiscent of Dal gate selling the usual Kashmiri handicrafts and shawls. If only stay for the day there is a number of parks where you can relax and enjoy a picnic. 4: Gulmarg Kashmir “The Meadow of Flowers”:Gulmarg Kashmir by Ahanger HOBOIt may be possible to take a tourist map of Kashmir and replace it with a picture of Gulmarg. Gulmarg is the Kashmir valley’s most famous and primary tourist destination, especially in the winter when the temperature is low and the snow is soft and powdery. Gulmarg is the location for all the adventure activities from skiing, heli-skiing, and snowboarding, to high-altitude golf, trekking, and riding the world-famous gondola. Gulmarg is an open meadow surrounded by lovely thick pine forests and in the spring the grassy slopes are covered with wildflowers, bluebells, daisies, forget-me-nots, and butter cups. Gulmarg lies under the majestic Mount Apharwat (4511m) in the northeast of the Pir-Panjal range about 55 km from Srinagar. The beautiful valley of Gulmarg is about 3km in length (meaning you can easily walk to most places), crescent-shaped, and just less than 1km wide. The drive to Gulmarg itself is beautiful, passing through avenues of poplar trees and rice fields until you begin your steep ascent through majestic pines. Gulmarg can be enjoyed on a day trip with a picnic and a ride in the gondola. Or come here to relax and ski, and with the opening of the second phase of the gondola in 2005, it is now a world-class destination for skiers of all abilities. Others come to hike from Gulmarg to other lush locations in the Kashmir valley such as the famous and most beautiful meadow of Tosamaidan. When both stages of the gondola are operational you can journey up to the Apharwat station for amazing views and photo opportunities of the valley and the Kishtwar and Himalayan ranges. The French firm Poma designed the gondola and at 12992ft is considered the highest in the world. The beauty of all the white snow piling up around the trees and hills is a beautiful sight and should not be missed if you are in Kashmir in the winter. 5: Verinag Kashmir:Verinag Kashmir by Ahanger HOBOLying at the north-western foot of the Banihal pass is Verinag, the largest spring in Kashmir (78kms from Srinagar), which is said to never dry up or overflow. It lies in a beautiful and peaceful garden with an octagonal pool in the middle, which Emperor Jehangir had converted from a circle to fit with the Mughal style. It is said he would rest here for weeks after crossing the Pir Panjal from Punjab. And it is indeed a place to relax and enjoy, the most perfect picnic spot in the Kashmir Valley. The pool which emits a clear sparkling stream is said to be Nila Nag the son of Kashyap Reshi, who was made King of the Kashmiri Nagas (nag snake worshippers). There are beautiful carvings of stones in Persian on the walls surrounding the spring telling how this great source of underwater spring is contained. There are guest houses here and also a tourist bungalow in which you can pass a relaxing night, before returning to Srinagar or continuing back over the Pir Panjal to Jammu. There is a Shaivite shrine located just outside the complex that draws pilgrims every year who come for a ritual dip on the first day of the year according to the Hindu lunar calendar. Verinag is also said to be the source of the Jhelum River, the blood that flows through Kashmir’s body. To reach Verinag, first, you must take shared sumo from the Dalgate petrol pump to Anantnag (Islamabad) from the jeep stand here take another car to Verinag. 6: Sonmarg "The Meadow of Gold":Sonmarg Kashmir by Ahanger HOBOSonamarg the Meadow of Gold and is located 84 km from Srinagar. Sonamarg can either be reached by road or by trekking from Pahalgam. By road, Sonamarg is the last stop with tea houses, accommodations, and restaurants before you cross the Zoji-La and enter Ladakh. Sonamarg is Kashmir's most famous meadow, named for the time when, under the afternoon sunlight, the meadow turns to gold. The slopes and meadows are layered with mountain flowers, and the surrounding forests are thick with firs, sycamore, and birch, creating that sumptuous mountain aroma! Today the main bazaar of Sonamarg, like Pahalgam, has become crowded by opportunism. So please venture beyond the main road and let yourself dive into the magical mountain surroundings. If just visiting for the day there are a few activities you can explore. Pony rides and picnics are most popular with the locals. You can also try trout fishing for INR50 per fish. The best thing to do on a day trip is to walk to Thajiwas, 1/1.5 hours walk from the main bazaar, you can also take a taxi halfway and then a horse. Thajiwas is a small and lovely side valley and is located at the foot of the Sonamarg glacier. It is an amazing location, for at least five glaciers come cascading down the mountains to meet at this point! If you would like to stay the night and enjoy the mountain peaks and glaciers, there is a tourist hut and also an awesome camping ground. Another longer, walk, would be to Baltal, which is a base camp for the Amarnath Yatra. It is located 15km north of Sonamarg and is a small lovely valley at the base of Zoji La, you can make the walk but it is also possible to drive. You can camp here next to the bank of the river. If you are lucky, you will spot Gujjars and their herd being dwarfed by the snow-covered peaks, also by groves of fir and poplar trees. The Sonamarg meadow used to be a popular grazing ground for the Gujjar cattle herders, unfortunately, use and development have rendered it unsuitable for grazing their livestock anymore. Note that Sonamarg is another great starting point for exciting mountain treks. You can reach Sonamarg by SRTC Bus leaving at 8:30 am every morning during the tourist season. The 'deluxe 19-seater is INR351 and the 'high-tech' 36-seater is INR271. There are no real budget hotels in Sonamarg during the summer season, everything is priced at INR 4000 and above. If you have a tent a good option is to camp at the Thajiwas glacier camping ground. 7: Tulip Garden Srinagar Kashmir:Tulip Garden by Ahanger HOBOKashmir Tulip Garden is called "Indira Gandhi Memorial Tulip garden", Erlier Model Floriculture Center Kashmir, and it is a tulip garden located in Srinagar, Kashmir, India. It is the largest tulip garden in the Asia continent and has spread over an area of about 74 acres of land. It is situated under the foot side of the Zabarwan range of mountains, built on a sloping ground in a terraced fashion consisting of seven terraces if you manage to go up, then you would be able to see the Dal Lake view. It was opened in the year 2007 to boost floriculture tourism in the Kashmir Valley. earlier it was called Siraj Bagh. Around more than a million million tulip bulbs get cultivated every year, all in different colors, like (Pink, Violet, White, Yellow, Red, and many more) Besides tulips, there are many varieties of flowers, including hyacinths, daffodils, and ranunculus which were brought from Holland. The tulip garden is home to around 68 varieties of tulips. Tulip festival The tulip festival is celebrated in the month of April every year, This year 2023 it has been opened before its time (on 19 Mar) The Tulip festival is an annual Spring festival to increase tourism by the Government of Jammu and Kashmir. 8: Doodhpathri Kashmir:Doodhpathri Kashmir by Ahanger HOBODoodhpathri is known as the Valley of Milk. Doodhpathri is a tourist destination and a hill station in Kashmir. It is located in Khansahib area of budgam of Jammu and Kashmir. Situated at an altitude of 2,730 meters (8,960 ft) from sea level, it is located at a distance of 50 km from Srinagar. The road to Doodhpathri from Srinagar is quite pleasant. Your journey to be quite beautiful with stunning landscapes on the way. The natural beauty of the place is absolutely mesmerizing. The lush green meadows have such a velvety appearance that you will feel like walking barefoot on the green grass. The place is surrounded by tall conifers. The snow-capped mountain range looms in the background at one side. The air is cool and simply breathtaking. This is a place where time seems to have stopped! There was once a famous Kashmiri saint Sheikh Noor din Noorani who had come to this place to pray. He wanted to pray and was looking for water in the meadows. He used his stick to prick the ground in search of water. And instead of water, milk comes gushing out. Sheikh Noorani, however, did not want to use the milk to wash his hands and feet. He thought that the milk was to be used for drinking purposes only. So by divine provenance, the milk again changed back to water! And the meadows got its name “Doodhpathri. This place also has an interesting tale behind it. However, the name Doodhpathri perhaps came from the gushing river that flows in the valley. The fast-flowing water when strikes against the stones give a milky appearance. This could have been the reason why this place is known as Doodhpathri. After all, the name literally translates into the “Valley of Milk” Doodh means milk and Pathri means valley. The tourists visiting Kashmir usually travel to Pahalgam, Gulmarg, and Sonmarg on their first visit. Not many tourists visit here. The majority of the people visiting there are mostly Kashmiri locals going there for picnics. However, you can include this place in your itinerary if you want to explore a bit of offbeat Kashmir. 9: Naranag Kashmir:Naranag Kashmir by Ahanger HOBOThis village can be the base camp for trekking to Gangbal Lake or to summit Mt Harmoukh. Visiting this village and its surroundings in itself is beautiful and it is possible to either camp here for the night or stay the night with the local villagers. It is also a base for the treks to Gadsar, Vishansar, and Krishansar lakes, although these require more time around 5 to 7 days of walking. The drive to Naranag from Srinagar (2.5 hours) is gorgeous and as you ascend through the valleys and see the flashes of tin roofs, baby mosques, signs of simple village life, and verdant green, you will be glad you took the opportunity! If you drive through the afternoon as the sun is on its descent, the whole world turns a warm bronzy gold, which is just champagne for a photographer or videographer. Naranag is a popular tourist destination for its proximity and ease from Srinagar, its luscious surroundings, and the mysterious ruins of a large Hindu temple. 10: Old City Srinagar:Old City Kashmir by Ahanger HOBOThe Old City of Srinagar must be visited before you can even get a glimpse into what traditional Kashmiri life must have been like. The old town is situated around the river Jhelum and can be divided into sections along with its famous bridges. Before the Islamic rulers came, there were no bridges in the old city, small boats were moored at either side to provide cross-river water transportation. The people of the old city are inquisitive and kind, you will be stared upon, approached, and usually invited in for chai, “chai chakha/chai pyoo”. The sights of the old city are many and varied. There are two ways to discover the old city, by land or by sea, if you have enough time, it is suggested you experience both! You can take a Shikara or motorboat from Dal Lake, Nageen Lake, or the Bund behind Lal Chowk. Prices will be negotiable, anywhere from INR800 up, entirely depending on the season, the distance, time, and the temperament of the Shikara wallah. Shikara wallahs can also provide lunch, tea, snacks, and other items if you so desire. Seeing the old city by the water, you can really get a feeling of the geography, as well as the former glory of Srinagar. The first thing you will notice is that the Kashmiris are people of the water as much as they are people of the mountains. Their lives were and still are shaped by the bends of the river, the Jhelum particularly has been a place of agriculture, trade, worship, life, and death. You will get to see how the old city of Srinagar has been situated around the river Jhelum, with bridges spanning the river at intervals and connecting the two sides, and how many of the old temples and shrines are located right on the banks. You will see glimpses of former magnificent houses of wood and mud and official buildings constructed by the Mughal rulers bordering the river and begin to understand how much of the body of Srinagar was run by the blood of the Jhelum. There are a few ways to reach the old city on foot. You can enter from the Dal Lake by walking straight through Khayam (take the Dal Gate bridge and walk away from the bazaar and the Boulevard) and just keep walking (you can also take the bus from the Dal Gate bridge heading away from the Bazaar). You can take a rickshaw from Dal and get dropped at Habba Kadal (approx INR50) and move from there. A third and most interesting walk is to start from near the Mahkdom Sahib Shrine and wander down the streets just under, where there lives a collection of folks who have made their homes in this place. The best way to approach navigation of the old city is either to follow the river as much as you can and Crisscross the bridges at your fancy or turn into the city and enter into the alleyways and simply get lost. Inside you will discover the trades, products, food, and architecture of old. https://www.ahangerhobo.com Ahanger HOBO is a travel company located and based in Kashmir, India. Ahanger HOBO has thousands of happy clients and it is growing at a great pace every year. Ahanger HOBO is the reputed and best travel agency in Kashmir, India. which offers Hotel, Taxi & Adventure, here is the list of adventure activities: Trekking Hiking Cliffhanging Mountain Biking Paragliding Surfing Caving Zip Line Camping Hot Air Ballooning. |
2023.03.24 13:17 AnderLouis_ Hail and Farewell (George Moore) - Chapter 7.3
PODCAST: https://ayearofwarandpeace.podbean.com/e/ep1513-hail-and-farewell-george-moore-ave-chapter-73/
PROMPTS: I wonder what is going on in Moore's head... Oh wait no I don't
Today's Reading, via Project Gutenberg:
And Edward is a beginner, and he isn't progressing, I said, and may remain a beginner. For he came into the world a sketch, une ébauche by a great master, and was left unfinished, whether by design or accident it is impossible to say. A delightful study he is! And in the embowered villa I sat, looking into his mind, interested in its unmapped spaces (Australia used to interest me in much the same manner when I was a child) until the young girl came upstairs to tell me it was time to go to the theatre. One knows a single word—Spielhaus. My eyes went to the clock, the hands pointed to four, and from four to five is the hottest hour of a summer's day. By four the sun, blazing forth from a cloudless sky, has sucked all the cool of the night away, and heated unendurably every brick and tile and stone it can strike with a ray. Even in the shady villa under the lindens one could not think of the tall gables in the town, the fierce sun beating on them, or of the cobble-stones in the streets, without congratulating oneself that Edward's inclinations had been resisted. Those low-ceilinged rooms above the kitchen would stifle on such a day, and I was able to look back on my courage with admiration. It had given me a splendid view of a corn-field with reapers working in it, the sun shining on their backs—that one straightening himself to wipe the sweat from his brow with a ragged sleeve.
And while walking through the corn-field I remembered a letter to Bülow in which the Master says: One thing is certain—I am not a musician, meaning thereby that music was only part of his message. He tells in these words that his art enjoined separation from the drone of daily life, and that is why he chose Bayreuth, a small Bavarian town difficult to get at, but not impossible to reach. It had a train service even in Wagner's time, and there was a sufficient number of dirty inns and lodgings in the town to house the pilgrims. Humanity was an open book to the Master, and the hardships he was inflicting on his pilgrims he knew to be for their good, for it would induce in them the disposition of mind suitable for the reception of the sacramental Ring. And while building his theatre on the brow of the hill in the shade of the pines, there can be no doubt that he foresaw the added charm it would be to the pilgrim to leave the town and plod through the glare up the long street past the railway-station into the avenue of chestnut trees. He foresaw them, pausing in their ascent, leaning upon their staves; and the restaurant which he allowed to be built next his theatre is a tribute to his perfect understanding of men, for however beautiful his music might be he knew that none could listen to it for five hours upon an empty belly. He liked, I am sure, the little green-painted restaurant higher up the hill in the orchard close, and must have gone there himself and sat under the trees, drinking Rhenish wine mixed with cool water from stone jars. The Master, who thought of everything, must have foreseen the great charm it would be to walk through the pine-wood, seeing beyond the red bark of the trees the purple ranges of hills that enclose the great plain, slope after slope rising at evening, and no one too far distant for the eye to follow the noble shapes and all the delicate sinuosities travelling down the skyline. Every shape and every outline is visible between the acts of The Valkyrie, Siegfried, and the Götterdämmerung. The village standing in the middle of the plain is often lighted by a last ray. Between the acts an extraordinary harmony gathers; art and Nature abandon their accustomed strife, and with ears filled with calm, exalted melodies, our eyes follow the beautiful landscape in which Bayreuth stands.
There are off-days at Bayreuth when there are no performances, and these are pleasant days of rest, that give us time to think of what we have heard, and what we are going to hear, and time to stroll about the town admiring its German life. The town is more interesting than Rothenburg—to me at least—for it is less archaic. One cannot imagine oneself living in the fifteenth century, whereas one can imagine oneself living at the end of the eighteenth or the beginning of the nineteenth. Bayreuth is very yesteryear, suranné as the French say. A foreign word is a veiled face. The veil is often slight, but there is a veil always, wherefore we like foreign words—a weakness. The great gables which show themselves against the blue skies at Bayreuth mean more to me than the red-tiled roofs with the dormer windows in Rothenburg, for I can imagine myself born in Bayreuth, or growing up in it, and living there, seeing the Margrave and his court. It would be pleasant to live under the protection of a Margrave. One asks the name of the last, and wonders what he was like in his Schloss, a melancholy building full of tall official portraits and heavy German furniture, surrounded by gardens full of trees in which there is artificial water and swans. The year I am writing of the swans were followed by a brood of cygnets, and we used to watch these, not Edward and I, but myself and the daughter of a great painter, one who has inherited some of the intensity of her father's early pictures—a woman loving music dearly, and travelling with her husband in search of it.
It was pleasant to leave The Tale of a Town and visit her, and to walk about under the sunlit trees, or through the town, or to visit with her the old Court Theatre, perhaps picking up Edward on the way there and taking him along with us.
He will always go to see a building, and though we had both visited the Court Theatre many times before, it was pleasant to see it again, and she and he and I together admired its pillared front and its quaint interior, German rococo, clumsy, quaint, heavy, but representative of the German mind. And together we admired the gilded cupids, the garlands of flowers and the little boxes on either side of the stage, in which the Margrave's trumpeters used to appear to announce his arrival—a theatre not intended for the populace, but for the Court, containing only fifty or sixty stalls, beautifully designed and comfortable withal. The gilded balconies reminded us of drawing-rooms; we spoke of the courtly air of the theatre, now forbidden to the mime for many a day. A beautiful little theatre, we said—a theatre designed for the performance of Mozart or Gluck's operas, and I think Edward would have given up some performances of Parsifal to hear Gluck or Mozart in this out-of-date theatre.
In the afternoon my friends suggested to us that we should accompany them to a village some six or seven miles distant, and we went there in a carriage drawn by two long-tailed Bavarian horses, that drew us slowly but surely out of Bayreuth along smooth white roads, every one lined with apple trees and loaded with fruit. It was a wonder to us how these trees were not despoiled by thieves, so easy would it be to carry away the fruit by night. In England, in Ireland, or in Scotland a great deal of fruit would certainly have been robbed, and we asked ourselves if the Bavarian peasants are more naturally honest than the English, or if it were mere custom that prevented the waggonner from gathering as many apples as he pleased. The lady's husband, who is a politician, suggested that these wayside trees belonged to the community, and he is no doubt right; and we accepted his explanation that the honesty of the Bavarian is to be found in the fact that everybody shared in the fruit and, this being so, it was nobody's interest to strip the trees.
Behold the trees, and the long undivided plain stretching away to the foot of the hills, without wall or hedge, and we asking ourselves how do the peasants distinguish between the different farms, somebody telling how one of his farmers had called another to admire a fence he had put up between their lands. I'd like the fence, aye, twice as well, if thee 'ad not taken in some six or seven inches of my land. In our appreciation of the German landscape there is to be reckoned our disappointment at seeing nowhere beautiful English trees—ash, elm, beech, and oak—only the pine, and we, being tree-lovers, think the pine a tedious tree, if it can be called a tree; it isn't in our apprehension of one, only being intended by Nature for what the French call bois charpentier. No man would care to sit under a pine (and a woman still less), needles underfoot and needles overhead. To us English folk the beauty of a wood is as much in the underwoods as in the tall trees, and the pine allows no underwood. In a pine wood one meets few birds. A goshawk, startled from the branches, flees quickly down the long aisles. The pine is cultivated in Germany; the unfortunate pine, ugly by nature, is made still more ugly by cultivation. Pines cover the lower hills, forming black stains in the landscape and disfiguring their purple.
The long-tailed Bavarian horses walked up some steep ascent, trotted down a hill, at the bottom of which a pretty brook purls through an orchard, and the village was reached at last, built under the foot of a steep black hill, on which stand the ruins of a castle. There are paths through the woods, and one becomes conscious of the ceaseless change in human life as one follows the paths to the gateway of the robber-baron who lived there three centuries ago, defying Gustavus Adolphus, the Lion of the North, until his castle was battered with cannon. It was fortunate for Adolphus that he had cannon to batter it with, for without cannon he would not have captured it.
We came upon a ravine, and on each hillside a wooden platform had been built; the orchestra playing in the pit between, no doubt, as in the theatre at Bayreuth. We strolled up and down the steep paths, wondering if players were heard from hillside to hillside, inclining to the belief that human voices would not carry so far, and to put the natural acoustics of the wood to the test, some went to the other hillside and spoke to us. But what play had been acted in this wood? Somebody suggested a miracle play, and leaping at the suggestion, I spoke of the miracle plays in Oberammergau.
Some pious people of your sect, Edward, I said, taking his arm, who would set Asiatic Gods against native divinities.
My aphorism was not at first understood, and I explained it—how Bavaria comprises two spectacles: the Asiatic Gods in the South on the Tyrolean frontier, while the original Rhine Gods display themselves in the North at Bayreuth—Wotan, Loki, Donner, Froh, and the Goddesses Frika, Erda, and Freia. My remark had some success, and we walked on, wondering how it was that this division of the deities had not been remarked before. All were interested except Edward, who said he did not care to listen to blasphemy.
But, my dear Edward, it cannot be blasphemy to tell the truth, and surely the Gods that Oberammergau exhibits are Asiatic. And there can be no doubt that the Gods that Bayreuth exhibits are German and Scandinavian; and I pressed Edward to explain to me how a mere statement of fact, the truth of which could not be contested, could be called blasphemous, falsehood being implicit in every blasphemy. To escape from this quandary Edward began to argue that the Rhenish Gods had come from Asia, too, by way of Scandinavia, finding solace, apparently, in the belief in the Asiatic origin of all Gods. We laughed at this novel defence of divinity.
It is like China tea, I answered, only grown in Asia. Somebody else spoke of Havana cigars, and very soon all the life died out of the argument. We were but vaguely interested in it, for none amongst us, perhaps not even the youngest, was entirely free from the thought inspired by the empty platforms. We were all thinking how every generation is but a pageant, that all is but pageant here below. Part of our excursion was already behind us, and in later years how little of it would be remembered! Such philosophies are soon exhausted, and we sympathised with a lady who was anxious about her daughter and husband. They were walking in the woods, and she feared they might be overtaken by the coming darkness. But we assured her there would be light for many hours still, and whistled the motives of The Ring....
We returned through the hilly country, with the wide, sloping evening above us, and apple-trees lining the roads, all the apples now reddened and ready for gathering. We admired the purple crests illuminated by the sunset, as millions of men and women had done before us, and as millions of men and women shall do after us. Voices dropped and faces grew pensive. We asked if we should ever meet at Bayreuth again, and our thoughts turned towards the great Master lying in his grave, whose dreams had given us such sweet realities.
Too soon over, somebody said. In a few days Bayreuth would be deserted like the platforms we found in the wood. The long distance we had come was mentioned, and somebody asked if the pleasure we had received were worth the journey. The answer made to this—and it was a woman who made it—was that the journey would be more real in six months' time than it was today, and picking up the thought, I answered quickly:
So you think that we must live not so much for the moment as for the sake of the memory of it?
Somebody answered that memory was, perhaps, half of life and this was denied.
He who cannot enjoy things as they go by is but a poor companion.
A poor lover, I interjected. And soon after found myself arguing that the great gift Nature has bestowed upon woman is the power of enjoying things as they go by—a great gift truly it is, and sufficient compensation for lack of interest in religion and morals. It may be that that is why women have not written a great book, or painted a great picture. Or invented a religion, some one added.
Women are not idealists, Edward said, speaking out of his remembrance of his play The Heather Field.
In the evening we were all going to the house that Wagner had lived in, and in which he had written the last act of Siegfried, the Götterdämmerung, and Parsifal. Every one who goes to Bayreuth is asked there if he leaves a card upon Madame Wagner. Such, at least, used to be the custom. One presented an invitation card at the door and walked about the music-room and into Wagner's library. Edward was much moved to see the Master's books and his writing-table. Things interest him more than human beings, whereas Wagner's books and writing-table merely depressed me, and refusing to follow Edward to the grave, I sought for a friend who might introduce me to Madame Wagner.
A tall, thin woman, nearer sixty than seventy, very vital, with a high nose like her father's, came forward to meet me, full of cordiality, full of conversation and pleasant greeting. Liszt lives again in her, I said, the same inveigling manner; she casts her spells like her father, and—Well, there is no way of telling my impression except to tell the thought that passed through my mind: it was, But how is all this to end? Am I going to run away with her? And when we arrive somewhere, what am I to do with her? A woman nearly seventy years! And I thought what an extraordinary fascination she must have been when she heard Tristan for the first time, and felt she could no longer live with Bülow.
It is always pleasant, she said, to welcome to Bayreuth strangers who come to hear our art.
The arrogance of the expression amused me; but after all, music is the art of Germany just as poetry is the art of England; and feeling in the next five minutes that I must either take her hand or interrupt the conversation, I chose the latter course, and asked her to introduce me to her son. She hastened to comply with my wish, and put herself to some trouble to find him. He was found at last, and I was introduced to him.
My impression of Madame Wagner is compressed in the Am I going to run away with her? And the same words, with a change of preposition and pronoun, will describe the impression that Siegfried Wagner produced upon me. The son is the father in everything except his genius—the same large head, the same brow, the same chin and jaw. A sort of deserted shrine! I cried to myself and gasped for words.
Van Roy was singing at the time, and I succeeded at last in asking Siegfried Wagner who had composed the song.
I do not know, but it should be by Grandpapa Liszt.
I bowed, thanked him, and moved away, glad to escape from his repelling blankness. Shyness it may have been, or perhaps boredom. If we had met at Venice or in London—anywhere except in that crowd, we might have become friends. So I was glad to meet him on the bench in front of the theatre, and to find him slightly more forthcoming than he had shown himself to me in his mother's house. We spoke about his opera, and about Ellis, who had translated his libretto, and for a moment it looked as if we were going to know each other, to become acquainted, for in answer to my question whether he thought it was of advantage that the musician should write his own libretto, he answered that he thought it was, for while writing the libretto the musician sang his first ideas of the music.
Meeting me again on the same seat at the same hour, he asked me why I was not in the theatre, and it only occurred to me to tell the mere truth, that I came to Bayreuth to hear The Ring and not Parsifal. Perhaps if you knew the score of Parsifal.
I can never know a score, for I'm not a musician, but I've heard it many times, and it makes no personal appeal as do the other works.
The explanation was received in silence, and I thought how I might have better explained my position if I had said that, though I recognised Milton to be a great poet, he wrote in vain so far as I was concerned. But Siegfried's manner checks the words upon one's lips, and the people began to come out of the theatre soon after.
We parted, and all the way to the café where Edward and I went to have supper I turned Siegfried over in my mind and understood him to be a man of talent, for he is the son of a man of genius. One must be a man of talent to conduct The Ring as I had heard him conduct it, bearing the last scene of The Valkyrie along with him like a banner. A man of talent, the son of a man of genius, without sufficient vitality to be very much interested in anything; his life a sort of diffused sadness like a blank summer day when the clouds are low; and he must be conscious, too, that there is no place on earth where he can lay his head and call it his own.
If the physical resemblance were not so marked, I said to myself as we entered the café.
That little café! What enchanting hours Edward and I have spent in it between half past ten and in the morning, amid beer and cigars and endless discussions as to the values of certain scenes and acts, of singers and conductors! The year that I am now referring to, Parsifal was conducted in turn by Fischer, Mottl, and Seidl, Wagner's favourite pupil and disciple. He sat in the far end of the café by himself, and I often wondered why his society was not more sought after. Although he was an old man, and in declining health, it was a pleasure for me to sit with him and engage him in conversation, telling him that under his direction the first act of Parsifal played ten minutes quicker than it did under Mottl, and that Mottl was five minutes quicker than Fischer.
So much as that?
Yes, I took the time. And how much better I like your conducting of The Flower Maidens! Mottl gets a crescendo in the middle.
Whereas there is no necessity. It goes as well without, doesn't it?
A thin, spare man, quiet, speaking but little—a kindly man, as the reader has already guessed from the few phrases exchanged between him and me, and an unassuming man, apparently taking a pleasure even in such appreciations as Edward's and mine; a man between sixty and seventy, at the time I am speaking of, and as I write this line I can see his small, refined features and his iron-grey hair, which once must have been black. My thoughts pause, and I like to indulge myself in the regret that I did not walk home with him in the evenings to his lodgings. He might have asked me to come to see him in the morning, and over the piano, perhaps, would have told me many things regarding his relations with Wagner and his understanding of the music, and things about himself, for Seidl lived among great men, and was easily inveigled in the confessional.
He died a year or two later, and the café is no longer as attractive as it was when all the actors came down from the theatre to eat their supper there. Klafsky was my first Brünnhilde; when she died Gulbranson took her place, and the moment she came into the cafe all eyes went towards her, and I may say all hearts, for very soon a beautiful smile would light up a round, rosy, very ordinary face, suffusing it, transforming a plain woman into one to whom one's heart goes instinctively, convinced that all that is necessary to be happy is to be with her.
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PROMPTS: I wonder what is going on in Moore's head... Oh wait no I don't
Today's Reading, via Project Gutenberg:
And Edward is a beginner, and he isn't progressing, I said, and may remain a beginner. For he came into the world a sketch, une ébauche by a great master, and was left unfinished, whether by design or accident it is impossible to say. A delightful study he is! And in the embowered villa I sat, looking into his mind, interested in its unmapped spaces (Australia used to interest me in much the same manner when I was a child) until the young girl came upstairs to tell me it was time to go to the theatre. One knows a single word—Spielhaus. My eyes went to the clock, the hands pointed to four, and from four to five is the hottest hour of a summer's day. By four the sun, blazing forth from a cloudless sky, has sucked all the cool of the night away, and heated unendurably every brick and tile and stone it can strike with a ray. Even in the shady villa under the lindens one could not think of the tall gables in the town, the fierce sun beating on them, or of the cobble-stones in the streets, without congratulating oneself that Edward's inclinations had been resisted. Those low-ceilinged rooms above the kitchen would stifle on such a day, and I was able to look back on my courage with admiration. It had given me a splendid view of a corn-field with reapers working in it, the sun shining on their backs—that one straightening himself to wipe the sweat from his brow with a ragged sleeve.
And while walking through the corn-field I remembered a letter to Bülow in which the Master says: One thing is certain—I am not a musician, meaning thereby that music was only part of his message. He tells in these words that his art enjoined separation from the drone of daily life, and that is why he chose Bayreuth, a small Bavarian town difficult to get at, but not impossible to reach. It had a train service even in Wagner's time, and there was a sufficient number of dirty inns and lodgings in the town to house the pilgrims. Humanity was an open book to the Master, and the hardships he was inflicting on his pilgrims he knew to be for their good, for it would induce in them the disposition of mind suitable for the reception of the sacramental Ring. And while building his theatre on the brow of the hill in the shade of the pines, there can be no doubt that he foresaw the added charm it would be to the pilgrim to leave the town and plod through the glare up the long street past the railway-station into the avenue of chestnut trees. He foresaw them, pausing in their ascent, leaning upon their staves; and the restaurant which he allowed to be built next his theatre is a tribute to his perfect understanding of men, for however beautiful his music might be he knew that none could listen to it for five hours upon an empty belly. He liked, I am sure, the little green-painted restaurant higher up the hill in the orchard close, and must have gone there himself and sat under the trees, drinking Rhenish wine mixed with cool water from stone jars. The Master, who thought of everything, must have foreseen the great charm it would be to walk through the pine-wood, seeing beyond the red bark of the trees the purple ranges of hills that enclose the great plain, slope after slope rising at evening, and no one too far distant for the eye to follow the noble shapes and all the delicate sinuosities travelling down the skyline. Every shape and every outline is visible between the acts of The Valkyrie, Siegfried, and the Götterdämmerung. The village standing in the middle of the plain is often lighted by a last ray. Between the acts an extraordinary harmony gathers; art and Nature abandon their accustomed strife, and with ears filled with calm, exalted melodies, our eyes follow the beautiful landscape in which Bayreuth stands.
There are off-days at Bayreuth when there are no performances, and these are pleasant days of rest, that give us time to think of what we have heard, and what we are going to hear, and time to stroll about the town admiring its German life. The town is more interesting than Rothenburg—to me at least—for it is less archaic. One cannot imagine oneself living in the fifteenth century, whereas one can imagine oneself living at the end of the eighteenth or the beginning of the nineteenth. Bayreuth is very yesteryear, suranné as the French say. A foreign word is a veiled face. The veil is often slight, but there is a veil always, wherefore we like foreign words—a weakness. The great gables which show themselves against the blue skies at Bayreuth mean more to me than the red-tiled roofs with the dormer windows in Rothenburg, for I can imagine myself born in Bayreuth, or growing up in it, and living there, seeing the Margrave and his court. It would be pleasant to live under the protection of a Margrave. One asks the name of the last, and wonders what he was like in his Schloss, a melancholy building full of tall official portraits and heavy German furniture, surrounded by gardens full of trees in which there is artificial water and swans. The year I am writing of the swans were followed by a brood of cygnets, and we used to watch these, not Edward and I, but myself and the daughter of a great painter, one who has inherited some of the intensity of her father's early pictures—a woman loving music dearly, and travelling with her husband in search of it.
It was pleasant to leave The Tale of a Town and visit her, and to walk about under the sunlit trees, or through the town, or to visit with her the old Court Theatre, perhaps picking up Edward on the way there and taking him along with us.
He will always go to see a building, and though we had both visited the Court Theatre many times before, it was pleasant to see it again, and she and he and I together admired its pillared front and its quaint interior, German rococo, clumsy, quaint, heavy, but representative of the German mind. And together we admired the gilded cupids, the garlands of flowers and the little boxes on either side of the stage, in which the Margrave's trumpeters used to appear to announce his arrival—a theatre not intended for the populace, but for the Court, containing only fifty or sixty stalls, beautifully designed and comfortable withal. The gilded balconies reminded us of drawing-rooms; we spoke of the courtly air of the theatre, now forbidden to the mime for many a day. A beautiful little theatre, we said—a theatre designed for the performance of Mozart or Gluck's operas, and I think Edward would have given up some performances of Parsifal to hear Gluck or Mozart in this out-of-date theatre.
In the afternoon my friends suggested to us that we should accompany them to a village some six or seven miles distant, and we went there in a carriage drawn by two long-tailed Bavarian horses, that drew us slowly but surely out of Bayreuth along smooth white roads, every one lined with apple trees and loaded with fruit. It was a wonder to us how these trees were not despoiled by thieves, so easy would it be to carry away the fruit by night. In England, in Ireland, or in Scotland a great deal of fruit would certainly have been robbed, and we asked ourselves if the Bavarian peasants are more naturally honest than the English, or if it were mere custom that prevented the waggonner from gathering as many apples as he pleased. The lady's husband, who is a politician, suggested that these wayside trees belonged to the community, and he is no doubt right; and we accepted his explanation that the honesty of the Bavarian is to be found in the fact that everybody shared in the fruit and, this being so, it was nobody's interest to strip the trees.
Behold the trees, and the long undivided plain stretching away to the foot of the hills, without wall or hedge, and we asking ourselves how do the peasants distinguish between the different farms, somebody telling how one of his farmers had called another to admire a fence he had put up between their lands. I'd like the fence, aye, twice as well, if thee 'ad not taken in some six or seven inches of my land. In our appreciation of the German landscape there is to be reckoned our disappointment at seeing nowhere beautiful English trees—ash, elm, beech, and oak—only the pine, and we, being tree-lovers, think the pine a tedious tree, if it can be called a tree; it isn't in our apprehension of one, only being intended by Nature for what the French call bois charpentier. No man would care to sit under a pine (and a woman still less), needles underfoot and needles overhead. To us English folk the beauty of a wood is as much in the underwoods as in the tall trees, and the pine allows no underwood. In a pine wood one meets few birds. A goshawk, startled from the branches, flees quickly down the long aisles. The pine is cultivated in Germany; the unfortunate pine, ugly by nature, is made still more ugly by cultivation. Pines cover the lower hills, forming black stains in the landscape and disfiguring their purple.
The long-tailed Bavarian horses walked up some steep ascent, trotted down a hill, at the bottom of which a pretty brook purls through an orchard, and the village was reached at last, built under the foot of a steep black hill, on which stand the ruins of a castle. There are paths through the woods, and one becomes conscious of the ceaseless change in human life as one follows the paths to the gateway of the robber-baron who lived there three centuries ago, defying Gustavus Adolphus, the Lion of the North, until his castle was battered with cannon. It was fortunate for Adolphus that he had cannon to batter it with, for without cannon he would not have captured it.
We came upon a ravine, and on each hillside a wooden platform had been built; the orchestra playing in the pit between, no doubt, as in the theatre at Bayreuth. We strolled up and down the steep paths, wondering if players were heard from hillside to hillside, inclining to the belief that human voices would not carry so far, and to put the natural acoustics of the wood to the test, some went to the other hillside and spoke to us. But what play had been acted in this wood? Somebody suggested a miracle play, and leaping at the suggestion, I spoke of the miracle plays in Oberammergau.
Some pious people of your sect, Edward, I said, taking his arm, who would set Asiatic Gods against native divinities.
My aphorism was not at first understood, and I explained it—how Bavaria comprises two spectacles: the Asiatic Gods in the South on the Tyrolean frontier, while the original Rhine Gods display themselves in the North at Bayreuth—Wotan, Loki, Donner, Froh, and the Goddesses Frika, Erda, and Freia. My remark had some success, and we walked on, wondering how it was that this division of the deities had not been remarked before. All were interested except Edward, who said he did not care to listen to blasphemy.
But, my dear Edward, it cannot be blasphemy to tell the truth, and surely the Gods that Oberammergau exhibits are Asiatic. And there can be no doubt that the Gods that Bayreuth exhibits are German and Scandinavian; and I pressed Edward to explain to me how a mere statement of fact, the truth of which could not be contested, could be called blasphemous, falsehood being implicit in every blasphemy. To escape from this quandary Edward began to argue that the Rhenish Gods had come from Asia, too, by way of Scandinavia, finding solace, apparently, in the belief in the Asiatic origin of all Gods. We laughed at this novel defence of divinity.
It is like China tea, I answered, only grown in Asia. Somebody else spoke of Havana cigars, and very soon all the life died out of the argument. We were but vaguely interested in it, for none amongst us, perhaps not even the youngest, was entirely free from the thought inspired by the empty platforms. We were all thinking how every generation is but a pageant, that all is but pageant here below. Part of our excursion was already behind us, and in later years how little of it would be remembered! Such philosophies are soon exhausted, and we sympathised with a lady who was anxious about her daughter and husband. They were walking in the woods, and she feared they might be overtaken by the coming darkness. But we assured her there would be light for many hours still, and whistled the motives of The Ring....
We returned through the hilly country, with the wide, sloping evening above us, and apple-trees lining the roads, all the apples now reddened and ready for gathering. We admired the purple crests illuminated by the sunset, as millions of men and women had done before us, and as millions of men and women shall do after us. Voices dropped and faces grew pensive. We asked if we should ever meet at Bayreuth again, and our thoughts turned towards the great Master lying in his grave, whose dreams had given us such sweet realities.
Too soon over, somebody said. In a few days Bayreuth would be deserted like the platforms we found in the wood. The long distance we had come was mentioned, and somebody asked if the pleasure we had received were worth the journey. The answer made to this—and it was a woman who made it—was that the journey would be more real in six months' time than it was today, and picking up the thought, I answered quickly:
So you think that we must live not so much for the moment as for the sake of the memory of it?
Somebody answered that memory was, perhaps, half of life and this was denied.
He who cannot enjoy things as they go by is but a poor companion.
A poor lover, I interjected. And soon after found myself arguing that the great gift Nature has bestowed upon woman is the power of enjoying things as they go by—a great gift truly it is, and sufficient compensation for lack of interest in religion and morals. It may be that that is why women have not written a great book, or painted a great picture. Or invented a religion, some one added.
Women are not idealists, Edward said, speaking out of his remembrance of his play The Heather Field.
In the evening we were all going to the house that Wagner had lived in, and in which he had written the last act of Siegfried, the Götterdämmerung, and Parsifal. Every one who goes to Bayreuth is asked there if he leaves a card upon Madame Wagner. Such, at least, used to be the custom. One presented an invitation card at the door and walked about the music-room and into Wagner's library. Edward was much moved to see the Master's books and his writing-table. Things interest him more than human beings, whereas Wagner's books and writing-table merely depressed me, and refusing to follow Edward to the grave, I sought for a friend who might introduce me to Madame Wagner.
A tall, thin woman, nearer sixty than seventy, very vital, with a high nose like her father's, came forward to meet me, full of cordiality, full of conversation and pleasant greeting. Liszt lives again in her, I said, the same inveigling manner; she casts her spells like her father, and—Well, there is no way of telling my impression except to tell the thought that passed through my mind: it was, But how is all this to end? Am I going to run away with her? And when we arrive somewhere, what am I to do with her? A woman nearly seventy years! And I thought what an extraordinary fascination she must have been when she heard Tristan for the first time, and felt she could no longer live with Bülow.
It is always pleasant, she said, to welcome to Bayreuth strangers who come to hear our art.
The arrogance of the expression amused me; but after all, music is the art of Germany just as poetry is the art of England; and feeling in the next five minutes that I must either take her hand or interrupt the conversation, I chose the latter course, and asked her to introduce me to her son. She hastened to comply with my wish, and put herself to some trouble to find him. He was found at last, and I was introduced to him.
My impression of Madame Wagner is compressed in the Am I going to run away with her? And the same words, with a change of preposition and pronoun, will describe the impression that Siegfried Wagner produced upon me. The son is the father in everything except his genius—the same large head, the same brow, the same chin and jaw. A sort of deserted shrine! I cried to myself and gasped for words.
Van Roy was singing at the time, and I succeeded at last in asking Siegfried Wagner who had composed the song.
I do not know, but it should be by Grandpapa Liszt.
I bowed, thanked him, and moved away, glad to escape from his repelling blankness. Shyness it may have been, or perhaps boredom. If we had met at Venice or in London—anywhere except in that crowd, we might have become friends. So I was glad to meet him on the bench in front of the theatre, and to find him slightly more forthcoming than he had shown himself to me in his mother's house. We spoke about his opera, and about Ellis, who had translated his libretto, and for a moment it looked as if we were going to know each other, to become acquainted, for in answer to my question whether he thought it was of advantage that the musician should write his own libretto, he answered that he thought it was, for while writing the libretto the musician sang his first ideas of the music.
Meeting me again on the same seat at the same hour, he asked me why I was not in the theatre, and it only occurred to me to tell the mere truth, that I came to Bayreuth to hear The Ring and not Parsifal. Perhaps if you knew the score of Parsifal.
I can never know a score, for I'm not a musician, but I've heard it many times, and it makes no personal appeal as do the other works.
The explanation was received in silence, and I thought how I might have better explained my position if I had said that, though I recognised Milton to be a great poet, he wrote in vain so far as I was concerned. But Siegfried's manner checks the words upon one's lips, and the people began to come out of the theatre soon after.
We parted, and all the way to the café where Edward and I went to have supper I turned Siegfried over in my mind and understood him to be a man of talent, for he is the son of a man of genius. One must be a man of talent to conduct The Ring as I had heard him conduct it, bearing the last scene of The Valkyrie along with him like a banner. A man of talent, the son of a man of genius, without sufficient vitality to be very much interested in anything; his life a sort of diffused sadness like a blank summer day when the clouds are low; and he must be conscious, too, that there is no place on earth where he can lay his head and call it his own.
If the physical resemblance were not so marked, I said to myself as we entered the café.
That little café! What enchanting hours Edward and I have spent in it between half past ten and in the morning, amid beer and cigars and endless discussions as to the values of certain scenes and acts, of singers and conductors! The year that I am now referring to, Parsifal was conducted in turn by Fischer, Mottl, and Seidl, Wagner's favourite pupil and disciple. He sat in the far end of the café by himself, and I often wondered why his society was not more sought after. Although he was an old man, and in declining health, it was a pleasure for me to sit with him and engage him in conversation, telling him that under his direction the first act of Parsifal played ten minutes quicker than it did under Mottl, and that Mottl was five minutes quicker than Fischer.
So much as that?
Yes, I took the time. And how much better I like your conducting of The Flower Maidens! Mottl gets a crescendo in the middle.
Whereas there is no necessity. It goes as well without, doesn't it?
A thin, spare man, quiet, speaking but little—a kindly man, as the reader has already guessed from the few phrases exchanged between him and me, and an unassuming man, apparently taking a pleasure even in such appreciations as Edward's and mine; a man between sixty and seventy, at the time I am speaking of, and as I write this line I can see his small, refined features and his iron-grey hair, which once must have been black. My thoughts pause, and I like to indulge myself in the regret that I did not walk home with him in the evenings to his lodgings. He might have asked me to come to see him in the morning, and over the piano, perhaps, would have told me many things regarding his relations with Wagner and his understanding of the music, and things about himself, for Seidl lived among great men, and was easily inveigled in the confessional.
He died a year or two later, and the café is no longer as attractive as it was when all the actors came down from the theatre to eat their supper there. Klafsky was my first Brünnhilde; when she died Gulbranson took her place, and the moment she came into the cafe all eyes went towards her, and I may say all hearts, for very soon a beautiful smile would light up a round, rosy, very ordinary face, suffusing it, transforming a plain woman into one to whom one's heart goes instinctively, convinced that all that is necessary to be happy is to be with her.
2023.03.24 12:47 Rhion-618 Just One Drop - Ch 77
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Just One Drop
CH 77 – The Man in Who these Marvels Can Do
It was the day before Shel, and lunch was becoming a more crowded affair.
Since Melondi’s secret had come out, the girls had taken to favoring a mid-sized table that seated twelve – a sensible number. A small affair no more than twenty feet long, the table was well situated, away from the center of the floor and off to one side. That had been useful, as the layout of the cafeteria put the table near the kitchen freezer. There was an awkward chill in that corner of the room which made it unpopular, and without other students about, the table offered relative privacy.
Of course, twelve was ideal, as it conformed to the needs of their class. The girls of the Practical Humanity class had faced more than their share of scrutiny since the term began, and privacy had become a cherished commodity. Whether it was from curious girls wanting to know what the Human was like, to its current, more immediate needs, the isolation of the spot had made the table a welcome retreat.
That said, today it was getting a bit crowded, and with everyone there, an additional three seats had been needed, with girls shoving in from the sides.
Khe’lark’s attachment to Gun’brei… or more accurately, Brei’s attachment to Lark… had started things, of course. There was usually room for one more, certainly if one of the girls was off somewhere else and missing lunch. Since Melondi’s secret had become a shared one, the table had become a place where Mel could, on occasion, talk less circumspectly. While she’d never slipped up otherwise, she could relax and enjoy her friends without being quite so guarded.
Things had been different before, when Brei hadn’t been cleared by Agent Duvari.
Melondi had never resented Brei as an intrusion, but it was a fact of life that she hadn’t noticed before. The ability to talk with her friends, even in the most circumspect way, had replaced her utter secrecy – or worse, the crafted lies about her history. When Brei joined them for lunch, Melondi had to go back into hiding… and Brei’s presence brought with her a visceral feeling of the loss.
When Kzintshki arrived, the twelve and sometimes thirteen turned to thirteen and sometimes fourteen.
The Pesrin girl’s presence was unmistakable. Kzintshkil was… different. It wasn’t only the matter of her being alien – another species entirely, with her own loyalties and agenda. It was more that Kzintshki kept her own counsel, and while Melondi knew how to read people - even people from other races - the Pesrin girl was largely a closed book. It wasn't something she was used to. She was good with reading people, no matter the species. Generally.
…That carrion incident with the Rakiri delegate could have happened to anybody!...
Of course, while it wasn’t always a full table, fourteen was manageable. Today there were fifteen people crowding in for lunch, which was pushing it.
Not that Prindi Ama’dis was unwelcome. The IOTC girl was another friend of Lark’s by way of the campus vblog; thankfully the question of who knew her secret had largely been settled – both by her request, and the actions of her handler, Agent Duvari. Now her friends knew, which was a greater relief than she’d imagined it could be. Professor Warrick knew, and he’d be allowed to tell Professor Pel’avon. He was holding off until they were back from the ‘honeymoon’. It was an odd term for the usual getaway after a wedding, and he’d explained it as something to do with newly wed couples slipping away for a month and drinking a lot of something called mead. Melondi figured she should have a word of quiet thanks to Professor Pel’avon for taking up so much of Professor Warrick’s time… but it would wait until they were back.
Gun’brei had been oddly muted after finding out. While Brei was a baroness’ daughter, Agent Duvari had opted to lay things out to her in private, as ‘she had an abiding interest in the news’. That probably meant several threats behind closed doors, a reading of general order 24, and signing waivers that didn’t mention words like ‘frozen tundra’. They didn’t need to - Duvari tended to make herself clear enough. It was hard to believe the same bubbly music professor could be so frigid as an Agent, but Duvari had no problems with being convincing.
Melondi looked over at Lark and pursed her lips thoughtfully.
…I still need to make things up to her. I don’t know if clearing Brei counts…
That left the IOTC girls, and as she looked up the table at Prindi, it was hard to believe the world she’d crafted here at the Academy had changed so dramatically. As Lark’s friend, Prindi made an easy liaison with the IOTC girls. Even so, it was tight with her here, and if more of them showed up, something would have to give.
She’d planned to tell her friends, someday… After graduation, when she was off on her own, she’d hoped that some of them might still be in reach… and understanding. They’d all be off starting their own lives, working in their House companies, starting careers, or managing the family holdings. Everyone would go their different ways. But her sister Khelandri’s death had changed everything. She could enjoy her friends now, instead of later, wondering if they would still be hers when she revealed herself as a princess.
It was a bright note in a dark situation, and she cherished it for what it was. She had friends. Real friends that had come to know her outside of the Palace, without any agendas… and she had the time – over two more years – before adult life sent them off on their own paths.
…At least, if I live that long…
That was a gloomy thought, and it was hard to hold onto it. She’d only just hung up on a call from Vedeem. Whenever she talked to him, the future didn’t seem so dark. He’d accepted her for who and what she was as a person… and then he’d done it all over again for who and what she was as a Princess.
…Screw Kamaud’re! I want to live!...
“That was Vedeem. He says they’re putting up a sign and closing the restaurant for a week to ‘celebrate the birth of a boy in the family.'Everything’s ready to start the training tomorrow at 9.” She raised her voice over the animated conversations going on. It was lunch, after all, and with all the jockeying of plates and trays and dishes and whatnot, it was a scramble. If any more girls showed up from the IOTC, they’d have to do something… or at least get a round table. No one could reach anything. “Prindi, can you let your cadre know?”
It was bad timing, since the girl just took a bite, but she nodded quickly, chewing frantically.
“Just take it easy…” Mel looked around past the table with an exaggerated glance. “The nod’s all I need, and you’ll like Vedeem… Hands off, though!”
As a young girl, she’d never expected that she’d need to warn anyone away from her boyfriend… when she finally got one, no one would dare. Just now? If all of this felt new to her, it must be like a bucket of icy surf landing on the IOTC girls… and Vedeem was hers!
Prindi finally cleared her throat and nodded again. “Yes, ummm…”
“Melondi,” she offered helpfully. While the IOTC girl had been giving her curious looks now and then, she’d tried her best to hide them. She still looked like she was struggling. “Remember, it’s just Melondi.”
“Yes…” The idea of calling a Princess something informal looked like it was sticking in the girl’s throat, and she took a way out. “I’ll let them know after lunch.”
“Thank you!” Mel called back. It was something Mother had always insisted on and Lady Wicama had taught her well. Good manners were for everyone. It had even seen her through that carrion incident, though she hadn’t even been five at the time…
…Come to think of it, it was Kamaud’re who ‘helped me out’… and was laughing the loudest…
She felt an ugly blush start to rise, but it faded just as quickly. She’d never known her elder sister except as a distant figure, not a part of her life, really. Even without the attempt on her life, It had grown a lot easier in the last few months not to care for Kamaud’re at all.
The table didn’t take much notice. Jax was in an animated conversation with Nestha about business, while the twins were actually giggling about something. Most of the talk had been about class, though Belda was getting a lot of ribbing and good natured pokes from the others. Tonight was the big night, after all. Even Kzintshki was quietly talking to Desi about the weekend. As the outsider, Prindi seemed to be struggling to fit in, though she hid it well.
“I’m glad you could join us, Prindi,” Melondi offered brightly, trying to keep the girl from feeling too isolated. “I know we sort of keep to ourselves; there was a lot of attention after we got into Professor Warrick’s class. It was a little rough after registration, and you wouldn’t believe some of the questions we got after he did the Marriage Fundamentals seminar.”
“That was rough.” Sephir nodded. “I had one girl ask me if he had any boys in his family, and when they’d be coming. That was pretty embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?” Prindi blinked doubtfully as she reoriented on Sephir. At 6’11, it seemed impossible to miss the girl. Sephir was a star of the Academy diving team with muscles like titanium cables, but she was so polite and unassuming that it often came as a surprise when she spoke up in conversation. She’d been a lot happier since her future in her House had been sorted, though, and at the moment she was grinning cheerfully at the bewildered look on Prindi’s face.
Prindi cocked her head uncertainly. “How was it embarrassing?”
“Oh… It's just… his wife and his daughter were killed when the Imperium arrived on Earth.”
Belda winced, but still looked relieved at no longer being the center of attention; at least she’d finally stopped blushing.
“Professor Pel’avon asked us not to talk about it at first,” said Sephir with a nod. Even if she looked like a recruiting poster for the Marines, she was a caregiver at heart, and had always shied away from talking about what Warrick called ‘the landings.' “Professor Warrick… Well, you can tell it still hurts him.”
“Yeah,” Nestha chipped in. “He’s smart… and a lot tougher than you’d expect. You just can't think of him as a male.”
“Human male.” Desi broke off her conversation with Kzintshki. “There’s a whole lot going on with him that even the rest of you don’t see. He and I talk a lot at the museum.”
“Is it true he adopted both of you?” Prindi asked, looking from Desi to Kzintshki and back, Melondi forgotten for the first time. “We all heard things and there were a lot of questions after the wedding… I mean, like the dancers! Where did they even come fr-“
“Yes, it's true! Both of us!” Desi broke in abruptly, interrupting Prindi’s train of thought, and Mel started breathing again. If word got out about the Tide Pool, it would probably need more than a General Order and a very angry Interior Agent to keep quiet. Desi was nodding frantically as she enthusiastically changed the subject. “We don’t talk about the wedding, but it's true! It became official when Professor Pel’avon married him. They’re my mothers and father, now.”
“Wow, that’s…” Prindi’s brows knitted a bit as she struggled with the whole wedding. Sure, the whole school had seen it, but the response had been more of a collective silence from around the table. Prindi took the hint and offered a smile. “So… What do you talk about, then? I mean, if not the wedding? What about this war sim? The rest of the cadre couldn’t believe it! I hope we weren’t whispering too loud. Most of us were glued to our omni-pads, gossiping on our Discuss channel. Everybody wants to know more… I can't wait to go through these files!”
“We don’t talk about the war sim. We have team meetings, but aside from those, we don’t. There’s a lot of extra credit on the line,” Dihsala said firmly, giving her a solid nod. “None of us know what’s on those files, though we had an exchange professor that… well, I don’t think she understood the material.”
“Careful, Dihsala, you’re in danger of being kind,” Pris muttered, though there wasn’t any heat in it.
Dihsala sniffed, but said nothing.
Pris pressed on, waving her fork-full of pickled jawaa like a baton. “She’s right, though. None of us know what's in the files, and we probably shouldn’t. Professor Warrick uses this method of teaching… It’s sort of like discovering the material a bit at a time and figuring it out as we go.”
“That sounds… really odd.” Prindi was canting her head fully now, and Mel could just imagine what the girl was thinking. It had been an adjustment. The IOTC girl looked back at Desi, “Sorry. It just does.”
“You don’t have to convince me.” Desi nodded sympathetically, wearing an easy smile. “Once you get used to muppets and furbys-”
“Oh! And ALF!” Jax’mi, broke in, laughing.
“And his music, though that’s really good,” offered one of the twins, as the other nodded. “And we get free movies - things that haven't made it here from Earth yet!”
“It’s a lot, but after a while nothing phases you.” Desi grinned infectiously. “Oh! Mel! Do we know if Aku is going to make it to… you know… the event?”
“I’ll have to ask.” Melondi shook herself out of the reverie of listening. “I know the invitation is getting sent. We can find out tomorrow.”
“Oh…Right.” Desi nodded, but looked back at her plate, subdued. No one knew they were going to the Palace tomorrow except Agent Duvari, who was going to escort them, and Desi was still looking pretty shy about the prospect. Still, everybody else had practice at Human Food…
“There was something we’re all kind of curious about, from the sim… I mean, it's not to do with the sim.” Prindi bit her lip, looking around as the table went suddenly quiet. “We all knew about Earth - I mean, he’s Human. Not about his family, but… things. Anyway, some of us were wondering, and now I guess I really am… umm… why doesn’t he hate us like we're some sort of enemy? There are stories, you know?”
“Desi?” One of the twins looked over at her seriously, setting aside whatever they’d been laughing about. Her sister sniffed, a beat behind. “You know him best.”
“Well, obviously he doesn’t. Hate us, I mean. I think he really means it about the Imperium making Humans citizens. Something he said once kind of stuck with me.” Desi grimaced in thought. “He said he didn’t think of the Imperium as his enemy, because the enemy is someone that tells you to hate that which is different from you, because sooner or later that hate comes back to you… and he said the Imperium hasn't done that.”
“We have kind of messed up there,” Jax’mi sighed unhappily. “I mean, all the news I get back from my family on Earth is great! I had the best letter from my Uncle… but my mothers told me stories. Some of the Houses first gifted with business grants on Earth abused them pretty badly. Not a lot, but the ones that did… Well, it wasn’t just one mess. A couple of the Houses got really carried away, and it took a while to sort out.”
“That sounds like a job for the Interior! The Imperium doesn’t tolerate… umm… that is…” Prindi sat a little taller, and her eyes shone with conviction before she stuttered to a halt, blushing as she glanced back to Melondi. “We’re supposed to stop that sort of thing.”
Mel watched as an awkward silence fell around the table, broken only by Kzintshki slicing away bits of her turox with another of her occasional mutters of “Ick”. It wasn't like she could entirely blame them.
The Empire needed the Interior. There were the boisterous and splashy ones, like House Reshay. There were the quietly dutiful ones, like Belda’s House So’sona and the pharmacological company run by Sephir’s House. There were the quietly powerful ones in the background like House Chel’xa… All of them working at what they did best… but sometimes there were incidents. Bad matrons who lost control of their ambitions. The Empire was vast, and when the Houses couldn't police themselves, it was time for the Empress to do it. That's where the Interior came in.
Mother had been working to rein the Interior in, over time… to bring it back to its core mission. She didn’t talk about it very much, but growing up she’d seen it happen. She could still remember the rumblings in court when she named Opimea Potac - an Edixi - to run the Ministry of Justice. People had said things around a six-year-old they didn’t think would be understood - or remembered - even by a six-year-old Princess. As for her cousin Yn’dara and Prince Adam… It had taken time, but Mother had gotten things under control.
…If only she were here now… but she isn't. I have to handle this myself…
That meant she needed the Interior… someday. Right now, she needed these cadets. Glancing down the table, Desi caught her eye and suddenly snorted. “Seriously, Kzintshki!? What is it with ‘ick’ all the time? You were ready to eat my father alive only a month ago. Now you turn your nose up at anything sweet or fatty? When did you turn into a picky eater, for goddess’ sake!”
“You do not understand. Food is plentiful here. That is understood…” The dusky Pesrin set aside her cutlery and eyed Desi coolly. “You have never seen a fat Pesrin.”
“No…” Desi rocked her head to one side, in exasperation. Kzintshki had a way of making statements out of questions. “But I’d never seen a Pesrin at all, until we met you. What's that got to do with it?”
“Shil and its worlds live without scarcity. Pesh does not. You will never will see a fat Pesrin.” Kzintshki replied cooly, blinking at Desi once. Melindi couldn't decide if the Pesrin girl was exasperated or amused without seeing her tail… her asiak. It was hidden under the table, but it seemed like it conveyed a lot of Pesrin body language - or maybe it was just Kzintshki. “Wasting food when it is plentiful is as much of a sin as wasting food when it is scarce.”
“I suppose…” Desi chewed over the idea while the rest of the girls thought it over.
“Besides, I have my figure to consider.”
“Hey, that’s true. I’ve been worried about everything for tonight!” Belda grinned suddenly. “So, are there any cute Pesrin guys around?”
“Perhaps... though I would not impress him if I were slow and fat.”
Mel thought over the reply. The pause was longer than the Pesrin girl usually took to answer, and she wasn't blinking. Sooner or later she’d figure her out. For the moment she watched as Kzintshki picked up her knife and fork, and cut away another bit of turox with particular deliberation. “Ick…”
“So… you girls get free movies, too?” Prindi asked the twins, looking between the pair tentatively, “Stuff that hasn't come out yet? What’s that like?”
“A lot, yes. The Ministry of Relations closed down on a lot of entertainment from Earth. It’s opening back up, but Professor Warrick has a lot of things no one has seen,” offered one of the K’herbhal sisters. Her twin nodded in sync. “Even with things opening up, they’re still screening for, you know…”
“Treason?” Prindi nodded understandingly.
“Porn!” The twins said in unison, giggling. “Not that we mind, though you could ask Belda for all the details. She’s seen Liam with his shirt off!”
“Goddess damn-it!” Belda started turning blue all over again. “It was only almost off! Almost!”
“You know, we could put off movie night until tomorrow. We can bring food back after training in the morning. Take over the room, have a movie marathon and celebrate,” Pris spoke up. “That way Belda can watch, too!”
“Hey, could you?” Belda grinned. “That would be great!”
“Sure… aaaaand that way we get to drag all the juicy details out of you, too!” Pris smiled back serenely. Melondi watched as Belda started blushing again, and muttered as the others laughed. Goddess love her, Bel was such a farmgirl.
“Ummm… what kind of movies?” Prindi asked, brushing her hair back. “Could I come?”
_ _ _
“You know, this is going to sound odd, but I kind of miss driving," Tom said, leaning back in his seat between Miv and Lea.
It was a comfortable way to ride, and the company was the best. Even with an alien landscape speeding by, it was the oddest feeling. Until he’d come to Shil, he’d always been the one doing the driving. Autocabs were quick and efficient, and other than his regular trip out to Human Food, it wasn't like he knew where things were on Shil… but it felt odd.
“You don't have a license.” Miv tousled his hair, looking at him indulgently while Lea curled in tight on the other side. She was happy as a clam they were all together, but she cocked her head, looking at Miv. “It's only a few weeks of study, if you want to get one.”
“Nah. It was just a stray thought. I’m good with being able to pay attention to you two, and it’s nice actually seeing the world go by.” He pulled them both closer, which Miv enjoyed, and made Lea squeak in pleasure. Lea had been a real princess about the lack of attention and she loved sharing with Miv, but with her work out in Creantauri, what could you do? He smiled and leaned in, kissing her lightly on the neck. This weekend would be all about making it up to them both.
Speaking of which, they were just about there…
The drive had given him ample time to cuddle up with Miv and Lea, which had been a lot of fun - but also just the distraction he’d needed. He’d tossed a jacket over the seatback showing the map display, but as the autocab turned into their destination, there was nothing for it…
“Miv, what’s this?” Lea was the first to notice, and she stared out the window as the cab turned in. Jets of brightly lit water began fountaining up on either side of the cab as it made its way up the long drive, the highway quickly out of sight.
Miv’eire pulled his coat off the seat to peer at the map and frowned in consternation as she looked at the display, “This is all wrong.”
“Actually, no, it isn't.” Tom grinned, pulling her back. “We’re exactly where we need to be.”
“But Tom, this isn’t our hotel!” Miv stared at him blankly, “Oh, love, you must have put the directions in wrong.”
“I canceled us there. Ladies, remember when you were going to take me on a holiday for a weekend? The one we missed thanks to my unscheduled trip to the hospital?” He grinned, enjoying their confusion. Lea was still looking out the window as the view turned from ‘impressive’ to ‘luxurious’ and was quickly heading for ‘‘opulent’. “When I was in recovery, I asked Prince Adam for three favors. Pushing through Desi’s adoption was one… looking into Olea was another… and a weekend somewhere nice to make it up to you both was number three.”
Tom drew Miv back into the seat beside him and slipped his arm back around Lea as she pressed to the window, the drive opening out on the broad vista and the hotel beyond. “Ladies, welcome to the Imperial Ocean Reserve.”
_ _ _
Following at a covert distance, and it had still been an easy drive. With an hour or two left to go, Sgt. Jel’ke had done the driving, leaving Captain Ce’lani to do the sensible thing and get some sleep. Honestly, it was kind of a relief. The Captain had been keyed up over Warrick, and after finally getting out of the bunker it was nice not to make small talk.
Thank the goddess the woman was sensible, but even so, she still had it bad…
…At least I haven’t had to make small talk along the… waitaminute…
Jel’ke frowned as the autocab turned in off the highway and pulled slowly on to the median. There was no doubt about it, the cab had diverted off the drive and was heading out of sight into…
…Well, fuck me…
Being a Deathshead Commando meant being down in the blood and the mud, deployed to some of the worst situations known to woman… but, every so often, it also put you in the way of protecting the great and the powerful.
Jel’ke knew Big Money when she saw it.
“Captain? You need to wake up.” Jel’ke pulled to a stop on the shoulder of the road, “I think we have a problem.”
_ _ _
It was early afternoon when Aku closed the file on his omni-pad.
The end of his tour had passed. He’d survived… at least on the outside. It wouldn't do to look anything less than your best, after all.
On the inside was another matter. His mistress, the Cliffsinger Tranja, had torn apart his every performance from the time he stepped on stage until the final note. Nothing was right. Nothing was good enough. While she hadn’t said he was an embarrassment as an initiate, she hadn’t needed to. The words had hung in the air - tangible, if unspoken.
This was his life.
Sitting in the dark of the enclave’s library, he thought about the tour. It had been an abject misery. If not for Kas’lin and Ka’mara, he’d probably have lost his mind under the pressure.
…If only things were different. I could be a regular guy. Maybe I could have met them instead, or someone like them! Started a family and lived a normal life…
His eyes crept back to his omni-pad. As miserable as he was at that moment, he knew he was telling himself a lie. Even if it had all been different, there was still the music. It burned inside, begging to be let out, and he yearned to make it happen. Even though his mistress seemed determined to sink his hopes into the Deeps, there was still the music. It could not be denied.
He’d kept away from the other initiates after returning to the enclave. They were his competition. He couldn’t see them as anything else, now… but inside it felt like a losing battle. Only one of them would inherit their mistress’ position and title, and it didn't seem likely that it would be him.
In desperation, he’d turned to the archives.
Cliffsinging was old. It was respected. Revered. Generations upon generations of Singers had practiced their art, handing down their names. Over time, the art had become codified… the Singers had become living treasures… but the original works survived. Every generation had added something of their own.
He’d delved deep into the stacks, diving through the recordings, searching the early works. There were files and archives and even printed records… He’d torn through all of them, not knowing what he was looking for until he’d found it.
The song was old - ancient, even - and written by one of the Singers whose name had not become selected as the final Twelve of Shil. The music was haunting, and it burned with a vibrancy that he didn't see in the more modern works - the kind of thing so often in demand now. There was almost no music - the singer's voice rang out alone, echoing off the cliffs accompanied only by a single steel arecha… but the song spoke to him.
The language was stilted with age, but as he’d translated it into more modern terms, it felt comfortable… it had the yearning that he felt inside, and which almost seemed Human in its power as he transcribed and updated it for his presentation.
It was traditional. It was very traditional. If he was going to reclaim his Mistress’ approval, this was what he needed.
He’d give his performance tonight, in front of his Mistress and the others. Show them he was good enough. Show her that he was better than the rest.
The music called and he had to answer.
Aku sighed again, wondering what the twins were doing at school right now. It had to be better than here.
_ _ _
“You are being such a bitch!” Kas’lin said hotly, scowling over the table at Dihsala. Ka’mara scowled over at the girl before joining in. “She’s right. There’s no call for this kind of behavior!”
“You two brought it on yourselves!” Dihsala crossed her arms defiantly, while Desi slumped the chair, resting her head on one fist, and steadfastly refused to join in.
“What are you talking about!? You’re twisting our arms… and… AND! you’re sucking up to Jax’mi!” Kas’lin was on her feet now, pointing at Dihsala, and Kas’lin rose in defense. There wasn't much more she could add to that.
“I don’t suck up to anyone!” Dihsala snapped coldly, though Jaxmi sat back, preening. It was the first happy look on the Chel’xa girl's face, as she’d been left desperately trying to keep the Japanese out of some city called Mecca. “You two brought it on yourselves, sucking up to England with that marriage proposal. You didn't want to join in, so this is what you get for coming late!”
“There’s nothing to get.” Kas’lin swept a hand up at the map on the screen. “They’ve completely swept everything out of Africa!”
“Well, that’s what you get for joining late. Anything you want to take, you can take out of France,” Dihsala said with finality. “Isn't that right, Lark?”
Khe’lark was looking at her omni-pad unhappily, saying nothing. Dihsala turned to look at her this time. “Lark?”
“It’s fine… Really…” Lark said unhappily.
“What?” Dihsala started to frown, and Desi sat up taking notice. “What’s ‘fine’?”
“Well, I didn't want to tell you this… but I think the Czechs are going to declare independence and revolt…”
Kas’lin closed her eyes and settled back in her chair.
The casualties for everyone along the French front lines had been catastrophic, the Spanish were useless, and now things were going to the Deeps with Austria…
…The things I do for extra credit…
_ _ _
“Well, I think the points we spent working on the Czechs and the Slovenes are paying off handsomely,” Let’zi said confidently, though the look around the table wasn’t encouraging.
“At least something is.” Pris grimaced, gesturing up at the map. “I hate to say it, but I don’t think France can last much longer.”
“She’s right. Rotating units up from the South kept the Germans out of Paris,” Sephir sighed gloomily. “But morale was shot with the units we rotated back South. We hoped they’d recover, but with Spain and Italy attacking? Unless we catch a break, I think our whole army will mutiny soon.”
“They can’t keep it up. They’ve lost all their colonies, now they have to fight in every direction at once.” Let’zi shook her head and tried sounding confident, though it was dimmed. “They can't do it. No one could!”
“She’s right, and England is mobilized now.” Melondi studied the map carefully, “Japan is all over the Ottomans in the South. Russia is… well… holding their own…”
“I’m doing the best I can…” Nestha huffed, crossing her arms. “Though yeah, the Ottomans are turning around and sending troops back South.”
“That’s right,” Melondi said brightly. “Besides, now we have Belda on our side!”
The girls looked over at Belda… who was staring off into space in a world of her own.
“Look, let’s call it a day. Bel has to go get dressed.” Mel grinned as Belda looked up, utterly lost. “She’s got a big evening.”
_ _ _
“Lieutenant, you aren't going to believe this…”
Lt. Peheli Tala looked over from the control board warily to where Sgt Diani was sitting in the right seat at observation. The bunker pods were all jumbled up with Captain Ton’is and Sgt. Jel’ke out on their trip, leaving Tala to fill in. It was a nice change of pace from running checks in the service corridors and updating the gear in the bunker.
Diani had been running the boards while telling long war stories to Sgt Vaeko, who was busily running the odds on that morning’s ‘wargame’ while monitoring the girls’ strategy sessions.
Words like that out of nowhere were not what she’d wanted to hear.
Diani and Vaeko had been keeping up a constant stream of conversation, both talking and only mostly listening to the other. It was enough to make her miss the quiet of the tunnels, and she’d started to tune out the idle chatter. Diani’s words snapped her back to reality in an instant, her heart pounding.
“Report Sgt!” Tala snapped the words out, but she was already pulling up the campus map on the main board, checking frantically for any sitreps from the ground team. No alarms had gone off yet, but it was probably only seconds away.
…Where's the alarm? Why hasn't anyone punched the alarm!? I’ll have to call Agent Duvari, and…
“It’s Captain Ton’is and Jel’ke.” Diani had a cheesy grin plastered over her wide features. “They need us to make some calls and get em a hotel room… You aren’t gonna believe where.”
Tala could feel her heart thudding in her chest. No alarms had gone off. There was no intrusion along the perimeter…
“A… a what?”
_ _ _
The Imperial Ocean Reserve was everything that Tom could have hoped for. It was old by Shil’vati standards, but that didn't mean tired. It meant historic, and walking into the lobby conjured up images only found in history books. The Reserve was a place where parasols graced the lawns in Summer and moonlight walks on the open beach were the norm. On Earth, it was the sort of place you could envision steamer trunks and top hats.
There were three restaurants along the veranda, and a bar, shops, and sumptuous indoor pool that served guests all year long. The hotel was vast. Not in the sense of catering to all comers, but spacious. It occupied its grounds like a crowning jewel.
As for their room?
It had a luxurious bed he could get lost in, more than capable of sleeping six Shil’vati. While he usually wasn’t big on the details, even he noticed the richly embroidered linens, what seemed like down pillows, the plush towels in the marble bathroom, well-stocked bar, and an in-room omni-pad to call for room service and requests.
That the whole suite lay beneath the ocean, with a glass roof and walls looking out from their bedroom at the surrounding coral reef, didn’t hurt either.
It was quite a place, but as the girls got started with the unpacking, he slipped out. It had always been his habit to poke around, and finding the best place for dinner reservations seemed like a good idea. A few minutes scouting out the restaurants would save time later…
At least, that had been the idea. The verandah surrounding the hotel proper had a lovely view directly off the beach, and as anyone would expect, it drew admiring guests… One of which happened to be Lady Vonde, the Duchess of House Jo’lare.
Tom hadn't seen the woman since Pre-term, when she’d attached herself to him in the tour, insistently tried to get him to ‘come for a visit,' and pinched his ass while showing her daughter around the campus. She’d been noteworthy in managing to do it more discreetly than most, but still…
Just at the moment Lady Vonde was in a shouting match against someone named Duchess Pyanfar, who’d swarmed down on him only a minute before Vonde. Pyanfar had started in on him with her retinue, breathlessly cooing about how charmed she was to meet him and wanting to hear all the details about Human marriages, and of course, she’d seen the captivating video on the news. It was just sooo rustic, positively enthralling, going native like that!
But Vonde spotted him and wasn’t having any of it, loudly insisting that he’d agreed to visit, and did Pyanfar know who she was!? Then her retinue started pushing Vonde’s retinue, while a crowd started to gather around the scene…
Tom was the only non-Shil in the room, and being 6’2 and pink, it wasn't easy to make himself invisible. He still did his best, though it was more a testament to the crowd of angry retainers around Vonde and Pyanfar that he got as far as the door of the bar. He kept his eyes behind him on the crowd as he made a break for it, barging first into a glass followed by a massive pair of breasts…
“Oh! Geeze…” Tom stepped back, “I’m terribly sorry Miss…”
A meaty hand clamped down on his arm painfully, and Tom looked up into the ruddy face of Tirola Reshay, Nestha’s kho-mother.
Disheveled and stinking of alcohol,Tirola wasn't in good shape. She’d emerged from the bar with her own crowd of hangers-on, including a Shil’vati guy hanging on her arm, and while she’d somehow managed to hang on to her glass, the collision had drenched her top in Blue Grail. Her eyes widened as she looked down at him and she growled, “You!!!”
…Alright, she isn’t in a good mood, though the last time I saw her she’d been unconscious in a pool of her own vomit…
Tirola made the mistake of clamping down harder, and Tom cried out in pained surprise. “Hey, get your damn hand off me!”
“Oh, you’re coming with me." Tirola tugged him closer…
Tom’s fingers spread and he jabbed. The strike was clumsy and he was off balance, but as eye-pokes went, it did the job.
Tirola let go of him and bellowed, her hand flying to one eye. The skinny guy thrown off her arm shrieked in bantam fury as he was thrown to the ground.
Then things got a little crazy.
_ _ _
Sgt. Jel’ke knew Big Money. She also knew when Big Money was fobbing her off. Thus far, they’d made it to the lobby and the reservation staff.
The ‘request’ had come down through official channels, but the Manager wasn't happy about it. Despite some ever-so-polite words, it seemed another call eventually came through and did the trick. The Manager accepted their story, and started offering over a room key with only a trace of disdain…
Out in the lobby, there was a scream.
It was followed a minute later by the sight of Tom Warrick pelting up the hall at a dead run and ducking into one of the gift shops, pursued by several mobs of women caught up in fighting each other as much as chasing after him.
“Captain, I-”
It was no use. Ce’lani Ton’is had already charged, and was racing across the lobby in hot pursuit. Glancing down at their meager baggage, she had the presence of mind to snatch the key from the Manager’s hand before she could take it back.
Somewhere up the hall Ce’lani bellowed.
Moments later a thunderous crash rumbled from somewhere up the hall. It was followed by the sound of delicate things breaking, considerably more shouting, and a soft cloud of plaster dust that gently wafted around the corner.
Jel’ke turned to the wide-eyed receptionist behind the counter and gave him a rakish smile. “So, what time is dinner?”
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Just One Drop
CH 77 – The Man in Who these Marvels Can Do
It was the day before Shel, and lunch was becoming a more crowded affair.
Since Melondi’s secret had come out, the girls had taken to favoring a mid-sized table that seated twelve – a sensible number. A small affair no more than twenty feet long, the table was well situated, away from the center of the floor and off to one side. That had been useful, as the layout of the cafeteria put the table near the kitchen freezer. There was an awkward chill in that corner of the room which made it unpopular, and without other students about, the table offered relative privacy.
Of course, twelve was ideal, as it conformed to the needs of their class. The girls of the Practical Humanity class had faced more than their share of scrutiny since the term began, and privacy had become a cherished commodity. Whether it was from curious girls wanting to know what the Human was like, to its current, more immediate needs, the isolation of the spot had made the table a welcome retreat.
That said, today it was getting a bit crowded, and with everyone there, an additional three seats had been needed, with girls shoving in from the sides.
Khe’lark’s attachment to Gun’brei… or more accurately, Brei’s attachment to Lark… had started things, of course. There was usually room for one more, certainly if one of the girls was off somewhere else and missing lunch. Since Melondi’s secret had become a shared one, the table had become a place where Mel could, on occasion, talk less circumspectly. While she’d never slipped up otherwise, she could relax and enjoy her friends without being quite so guarded.
Things had been different before, when Brei hadn’t been cleared by Agent Duvari.
Melondi had never resented Brei as an intrusion, but it was a fact of life that she hadn’t noticed before. The ability to talk with her friends, even in the most circumspect way, had replaced her utter secrecy – or worse, the crafted lies about her history. When Brei joined them for lunch, Melondi had to go back into hiding… and Brei’s presence brought with her a visceral feeling of the loss.
When Kzintshki arrived, the twelve and sometimes thirteen turned to thirteen and sometimes fourteen.
The Pesrin girl’s presence was unmistakable. Kzintshkil was… different. It wasn’t only the matter of her being alien – another species entirely, with her own loyalties and agenda. It was more that Kzintshki kept her own counsel, and while Melondi knew how to read people - even people from other races - the Pesrin girl was largely a closed book. It wasn't something she was used to. She was good with reading people, no matter the species. Generally.
…That carrion incident with the Rakiri delegate could have happened to anybody!...
Of course, while it wasn’t always a full table, fourteen was manageable. Today there were fifteen people crowding in for lunch, which was pushing it.
Not that Prindi Ama’dis was unwelcome. The IOTC girl was another friend of Lark’s by way of the campus vblog; thankfully the question of who knew her secret had largely been settled – both by her request, and the actions of her handler, Agent Duvari. Now her friends knew, which was a greater relief than she’d imagined it could be. Professor Warrick knew, and he’d be allowed to tell Professor Pel’avon. He was holding off until they were back from the ‘honeymoon’. It was an odd term for the usual getaway after a wedding, and he’d explained it as something to do with newly wed couples slipping away for a month and drinking a lot of something called mead. Melondi figured she should have a word of quiet thanks to Professor Pel’avon for taking up so much of Professor Warrick’s time… but it would wait until they were back.
Gun’brei had been oddly muted after finding out. While Brei was a baroness’ daughter, Agent Duvari had opted to lay things out to her in private, as ‘she had an abiding interest in the news’. That probably meant several threats behind closed doors, a reading of general order 24, and signing waivers that didn’t mention words like ‘frozen tundra’. They didn’t need to - Duvari tended to make herself clear enough. It was hard to believe the same bubbly music professor could be so frigid as an Agent, but Duvari had no problems with being convincing.
Melondi looked over at Lark and pursed her lips thoughtfully.
…I still need to make things up to her. I don’t know if clearing Brei counts…
That left the IOTC girls, and as she looked up the table at Prindi, it was hard to believe the world she’d crafted here at the Academy had changed so dramatically. As Lark’s friend, Prindi made an easy liaison with the IOTC girls. Even so, it was tight with her here, and if more of them showed up, something would have to give.
She’d planned to tell her friends, someday… After graduation, when she was off on her own, she’d hoped that some of them might still be in reach… and understanding. They’d all be off starting their own lives, working in their House companies, starting careers, or managing the family holdings. Everyone would go their different ways. But her sister Khelandri’s death had changed everything. She could enjoy her friends now, instead of later, wondering if they would still be hers when she revealed herself as a princess.
It was a bright note in a dark situation, and she cherished it for what it was. She had friends. Real friends that had come to know her outside of the Palace, without any agendas… and she had the time – over two more years – before adult life sent them off on their own paths.
…At least, if I live that long…
That was a gloomy thought, and it was hard to hold onto it. She’d only just hung up on a call from Vedeem. Whenever she talked to him, the future didn’t seem so dark. He’d accepted her for who and what she was as a person… and then he’d done it all over again for who and what she was as a Princess.
…Screw Kamaud’re! I want to live!...
“That was Vedeem. He says they’re putting up a sign and closing the restaurant for a week to ‘celebrate the birth of a boy in the family.'Everything’s ready to start the training tomorrow at 9.” She raised her voice over the animated conversations going on. It was lunch, after all, and with all the jockeying of plates and trays and dishes and whatnot, it was a scramble. If any more girls showed up from the IOTC, they’d have to do something… or at least get a round table. No one could reach anything. “Prindi, can you let your cadre know?”
It was bad timing, since the girl just took a bite, but she nodded quickly, chewing frantically.
“Just take it easy…” Mel looked around past the table with an exaggerated glance. “The nod’s all I need, and you’ll like Vedeem… Hands off, though!”
As a young girl, she’d never expected that she’d need to warn anyone away from her boyfriend… when she finally got one, no one would dare. Just now? If all of this felt new to her, it must be like a bucket of icy surf landing on the IOTC girls… and Vedeem was hers!
Prindi finally cleared her throat and nodded again. “Yes, ummm…”
“Melondi,” she offered helpfully. While the IOTC girl had been giving her curious looks now and then, she’d tried her best to hide them. She still looked like she was struggling. “Remember, it’s just Melondi.”
“Yes…” The idea of calling a Princess something informal looked like it was sticking in the girl’s throat, and she took a way out. “I’ll let them know after lunch.”
“Thank you!” Mel called back. It was something Mother had always insisted on and Lady Wicama had taught her well. Good manners were for everyone. It had even seen her through that carrion incident, though she hadn’t even been five at the time…
…Come to think of it, it was Kamaud’re who ‘helped me out’… and was laughing the loudest…
She felt an ugly blush start to rise, but it faded just as quickly. She’d never known her elder sister except as a distant figure, not a part of her life, really. Even without the attempt on her life, It had grown a lot easier in the last few months not to care for Kamaud’re at all.
The table didn’t take much notice. Jax was in an animated conversation with Nestha about business, while the twins were actually giggling about something. Most of the talk had been about class, though Belda was getting a lot of ribbing and good natured pokes from the others. Tonight was the big night, after all. Even Kzintshki was quietly talking to Desi about the weekend. As the outsider, Prindi seemed to be struggling to fit in, though she hid it well.
“I’m glad you could join us, Prindi,” Melondi offered brightly, trying to keep the girl from feeling too isolated. “I know we sort of keep to ourselves; there was a lot of attention after we got into Professor Warrick’s class. It was a little rough after registration, and you wouldn’t believe some of the questions we got after he did the Marriage Fundamentals seminar.”
“That was rough.” Sephir nodded. “I had one girl ask me if he had any boys in his family, and when they’d be coming. That was pretty embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?” Prindi blinked doubtfully as she reoriented on Sephir. At 6’11, it seemed impossible to miss the girl. Sephir was a star of the Academy diving team with muscles like titanium cables, but she was so polite and unassuming that it often came as a surprise when she spoke up in conversation. She’d been a lot happier since her future in her House had been sorted, though, and at the moment she was grinning cheerfully at the bewildered look on Prindi’s face.
Prindi cocked her head uncertainly. “How was it embarrassing?”
“Oh… It's just… his wife and his daughter were killed when the Imperium arrived on Earth.”
Belda winced, but still looked relieved at no longer being the center of attention; at least she’d finally stopped blushing.
“Professor Pel’avon asked us not to talk about it at first,” said Sephir with a nod. Even if she looked like a recruiting poster for the Marines, she was a caregiver at heart, and had always shied away from talking about what Warrick called ‘the landings.' “Professor Warrick… Well, you can tell it still hurts him.”
“Yeah,” Nestha chipped in. “He’s smart… and a lot tougher than you’d expect. You just can't think of him as a male.”
“Human male.” Desi broke off her conversation with Kzintshki. “There’s a whole lot going on with him that even the rest of you don’t see. He and I talk a lot at the museum.”
“Is it true he adopted both of you?” Prindi asked, looking from Desi to Kzintshki and back, Melondi forgotten for the first time. “We all heard things and there were a lot of questions after the wedding… I mean, like the dancers! Where did they even come fr-“
“Yes, it's true! Both of us!” Desi broke in abruptly, interrupting Prindi’s train of thought, and Mel started breathing again. If word got out about the Tide Pool, it would probably need more than a General Order and a very angry Interior Agent to keep quiet. Desi was nodding frantically as she enthusiastically changed the subject. “We don’t talk about the wedding, but it's true! It became official when Professor Pel’avon married him. They’re my mothers and father, now.”
“Wow, that’s…” Prindi’s brows knitted a bit as she struggled with the whole wedding. Sure, the whole school had seen it, but the response had been more of a collective silence from around the table. Prindi took the hint and offered a smile. “So… What do you talk about, then? I mean, if not the wedding? What about this war sim? The rest of the cadre couldn’t believe it! I hope we weren’t whispering too loud. Most of us were glued to our omni-pads, gossiping on our Discuss channel. Everybody wants to know more… I can't wait to go through these files!”
“We don’t talk about the war sim. We have team meetings, but aside from those, we don’t. There’s a lot of extra credit on the line,” Dihsala said firmly, giving her a solid nod. “None of us know what’s on those files, though we had an exchange professor that… well, I don’t think she understood the material.”
“Careful, Dihsala, you’re in danger of being kind,” Pris muttered, though there wasn’t any heat in it.
Dihsala sniffed, but said nothing.
Pris pressed on, waving her fork-full of pickled jawaa like a baton. “She’s right, though. None of us know what's in the files, and we probably shouldn’t. Professor Warrick uses this method of teaching… It’s sort of like discovering the material a bit at a time and figuring it out as we go.”
“That sounds… really odd.” Prindi was canting her head fully now, and Mel could just imagine what the girl was thinking. It had been an adjustment. The IOTC girl looked back at Desi, “Sorry. It just does.”
“You don’t have to convince me.” Desi nodded sympathetically, wearing an easy smile. “Once you get used to muppets and furbys-”
“Oh! And ALF!” Jax’mi, broke in, laughing.
“And his music, though that’s really good,” offered one of the twins, as the other nodded. “And we get free movies - things that haven't made it here from Earth yet!”
“It’s a lot, but after a while nothing phases you.” Desi grinned infectiously. “Oh! Mel! Do we know if Aku is going to make it to… you know… the event?”
“I’ll have to ask.” Melondi shook herself out of the reverie of listening. “I know the invitation is getting sent. We can find out tomorrow.”
“Oh…Right.” Desi nodded, but looked back at her plate, subdued. No one knew they were going to the Palace tomorrow except Agent Duvari, who was going to escort them, and Desi was still looking pretty shy about the prospect. Still, everybody else had practice at Human Food…
“There was something we’re all kind of curious about, from the sim… I mean, it's not to do with the sim.” Prindi bit her lip, looking around as the table went suddenly quiet. “We all knew about Earth - I mean, he’s Human. Not about his family, but… things. Anyway, some of us were wondering, and now I guess I really am… umm… why doesn’t he hate us like we're some sort of enemy? There are stories, you know?”
“Desi?” One of the twins looked over at her seriously, setting aside whatever they’d been laughing about. Her sister sniffed, a beat behind. “You know him best.”
“Well, obviously he doesn’t. Hate us, I mean. I think he really means it about the Imperium making Humans citizens. Something he said once kind of stuck with me.” Desi grimaced in thought. “He said he didn’t think of the Imperium as his enemy, because the enemy is someone that tells you to hate that which is different from you, because sooner or later that hate comes back to you… and he said the Imperium hasn't done that.”
“We have kind of messed up there,” Jax’mi sighed unhappily. “I mean, all the news I get back from my family on Earth is great! I had the best letter from my Uncle… but my mothers told me stories. Some of the Houses first gifted with business grants on Earth abused them pretty badly. Not a lot, but the ones that did… Well, it wasn’t just one mess. A couple of the Houses got really carried away, and it took a while to sort out.”
“That sounds like a job for the Interior! The Imperium doesn’t tolerate… umm… that is…” Prindi sat a little taller, and her eyes shone with conviction before she stuttered to a halt, blushing as she glanced back to Melondi. “We’re supposed to stop that sort of thing.”
Mel watched as an awkward silence fell around the table, broken only by Kzintshki slicing away bits of her turox with another of her occasional mutters of “Ick”. It wasn't like she could entirely blame them.
The Empire needed the Interior. There were the boisterous and splashy ones, like House Reshay. There were the quietly dutiful ones, like Belda’s House So’sona and the pharmacological company run by Sephir’s House. There were the quietly powerful ones in the background like House Chel’xa… All of them working at what they did best… but sometimes there were incidents. Bad matrons who lost control of their ambitions. The Empire was vast, and when the Houses couldn't police themselves, it was time for the Empress to do it. That's where the Interior came in.
Mother had been working to rein the Interior in, over time… to bring it back to its core mission. She didn’t talk about it very much, but growing up she’d seen it happen. She could still remember the rumblings in court when she named Opimea Potac - an Edixi - to run the Ministry of Justice. People had said things around a six-year-old they didn’t think would be understood - or remembered - even by a six-year-old Princess. As for her cousin Yn’dara and Prince Adam… It had taken time, but Mother had gotten things under control.
…If only she were here now… but she isn't. I have to handle this myself…
That meant she needed the Interior… someday. Right now, she needed these cadets. Glancing down the table, Desi caught her eye and suddenly snorted. “Seriously, Kzintshki!? What is it with ‘ick’ all the time? You were ready to eat my father alive only a month ago. Now you turn your nose up at anything sweet or fatty? When did you turn into a picky eater, for goddess’ sake!”
“You do not understand. Food is plentiful here. That is understood…” The dusky Pesrin set aside her cutlery and eyed Desi coolly. “You have never seen a fat Pesrin.”
“No…” Desi rocked her head to one side, in exasperation. Kzintshki had a way of making statements out of questions. “But I’d never seen a Pesrin at all, until we met you. What's that got to do with it?”
“Shil and its worlds live without scarcity. Pesh does not. You will never will see a fat Pesrin.” Kzintshki replied cooly, blinking at Desi once. Melindi couldn't decide if the Pesrin girl was exasperated or amused without seeing her tail… her asiak. It was hidden under the table, but it seemed like it conveyed a lot of Pesrin body language - or maybe it was just Kzintshki. “Wasting food when it is plentiful is as much of a sin as wasting food when it is scarce.”
“I suppose…” Desi chewed over the idea while the rest of the girls thought it over.
“Besides, I have my figure to consider.”
“Hey, that’s true. I’ve been worried about everything for tonight!” Belda grinned suddenly. “So, are there any cute Pesrin guys around?”
“Perhaps... though I would not impress him if I were slow and fat.”
Mel thought over the reply. The pause was longer than the Pesrin girl usually took to answer, and she wasn't blinking. Sooner or later she’d figure her out. For the moment she watched as Kzintshki picked up her knife and fork, and cut away another bit of turox with particular deliberation. “Ick…”
“So… you girls get free movies, too?” Prindi asked the twins, looking between the pair tentatively, “Stuff that hasn't come out yet? What’s that like?”
“A lot, yes. The Ministry of Relations closed down on a lot of entertainment from Earth. It’s opening back up, but Professor Warrick has a lot of things no one has seen,” offered one of the K’herbhal sisters. Her twin nodded in sync. “Even with things opening up, they’re still screening for, you know…”
“Treason?” Prindi nodded understandingly.
“Porn!” The twins said in unison, giggling. “Not that we mind, though you could ask Belda for all the details. She’s seen Liam with his shirt off!”
“Goddess damn-it!” Belda started turning blue all over again. “It was only almost off! Almost!”
“You know, we could put off movie night until tomorrow. We can bring food back after training in the morning. Take over the room, have a movie marathon and celebrate,” Pris spoke up. “That way Belda can watch, too!”
“Hey, could you?” Belda grinned. “That would be great!”
“Sure… aaaaand that way we get to drag all the juicy details out of you, too!” Pris smiled back serenely. Melondi watched as Belda started blushing again, and muttered as the others laughed. Goddess love her, Bel was such a farmgirl.
“Ummm… what kind of movies?” Prindi asked, brushing her hair back. “Could I come?”
_ _ _
“You know, this is going to sound odd, but I kind of miss driving," Tom said, leaning back in his seat between Miv and Lea.
It was a comfortable way to ride, and the company was the best. Even with an alien landscape speeding by, it was the oddest feeling. Until he’d come to Shil, he’d always been the one doing the driving. Autocabs were quick and efficient, and other than his regular trip out to Human Food, it wasn't like he knew where things were on Shil… but it felt odd.
“You don't have a license.” Miv tousled his hair, looking at him indulgently while Lea curled in tight on the other side. She was happy as a clam they were all together, but she cocked her head, looking at Miv. “It's only a few weeks of study, if you want to get one.”
“Nah. It was just a stray thought. I’m good with being able to pay attention to you two, and it’s nice actually seeing the world go by.” He pulled them both closer, which Miv enjoyed, and made Lea squeak in pleasure. Lea had been a real princess about the lack of attention and she loved sharing with Miv, but with her work out in Creantauri, what could you do? He smiled and leaned in, kissing her lightly on the neck. This weekend would be all about making it up to them both.
Speaking of which, they were just about there…
The drive had given him ample time to cuddle up with Miv and Lea, which had been a lot of fun - but also just the distraction he’d needed. He’d tossed a jacket over the seatback showing the map display, but as the autocab turned into their destination, there was nothing for it…
“Miv, what’s this?” Lea was the first to notice, and she stared out the window as the cab turned in. Jets of brightly lit water began fountaining up on either side of the cab as it made its way up the long drive, the highway quickly out of sight.
Miv’eire pulled his coat off the seat to peer at the map and frowned in consternation as she looked at the display, “This is all wrong.”
“Actually, no, it isn't.” Tom grinned, pulling her back. “We’re exactly where we need to be.”
“But Tom, this isn’t our hotel!” Miv stared at him blankly, “Oh, love, you must have put the directions in wrong.”
“I canceled us there. Ladies, remember when you were going to take me on a holiday for a weekend? The one we missed thanks to my unscheduled trip to the hospital?” He grinned, enjoying their confusion. Lea was still looking out the window as the view turned from ‘impressive’ to ‘luxurious’ and was quickly heading for ‘‘opulent’. “When I was in recovery, I asked Prince Adam for three favors. Pushing through Desi’s adoption was one… looking into Olea was another… and a weekend somewhere nice to make it up to you both was number three.”
Tom drew Miv back into the seat beside him and slipped his arm back around Lea as she pressed to the window, the drive opening out on the broad vista and the hotel beyond. “Ladies, welcome to the Imperial Ocean Reserve.”
_ _ _
Following at a covert distance, and it had still been an easy drive. With an hour or two left to go, Sgt. Jel’ke had done the driving, leaving Captain Ce’lani to do the sensible thing and get some sleep. Honestly, it was kind of a relief. The Captain had been keyed up over Warrick, and after finally getting out of the bunker it was nice not to make small talk.
Thank the goddess the woman was sensible, but even so, she still had it bad…
…At least I haven’t had to make small talk along the… waitaminute…
Jel’ke frowned as the autocab turned in off the highway and pulled slowly on to the median. There was no doubt about it, the cab had diverted off the drive and was heading out of sight into…
…Well, fuck me…
Being a Deathshead Commando meant being down in the blood and the mud, deployed to some of the worst situations known to woman… but, every so often, it also put you in the way of protecting the great and the powerful.
Jel’ke knew Big Money when she saw it.
“Captain? You need to wake up.” Jel’ke pulled to a stop on the shoulder of the road, “I think we have a problem.”
_ _ _
It was early afternoon when Aku closed the file on his omni-pad.
The end of his tour had passed. He’d survived… at least on the outside. It wouldn't do to look anything less than your best, after all.
On the inside was another matter. His mistress, the Cliffsinger Tranja, had torn apart his every performance from the time he stepped on stage until the final note. Nothing was right. Nothing was good enough. While she hadn’t said he was an embarrassment as an initiate, she hadn’t needed to. The words had hung in the air - tangible, if unspoken.
This was his life.
Sitting in the dark of the enclave’s library, he thought about the tour. It had been an abject misery. If not for Kas’lin and Ka’mara, he’d probably have lost his mind under the pressure.
…If only things were different. I could be a regular guy. Maybe I could have met them instead, or someone like them! Started a family and lived a normal life…
His eyes crept back to his omni-pad. As miserable as he was at that moment, he knew he was telling himself a lie. Even if it had all been different, there was still the music. It burned inside, begging to be let out, and he yearned to make it happen. Even though his mistress seemed determined to sink his hopes into the Deeps, there was still the music. It could not be denied.
He’d kept away from the other initiates after returning to the enclave. They were his competition. He couldn’t see them as anything else, now… but inside it felt like a losing battle. Only one of them would inherit their mistress’ position and title, and it didn't seem likely that it would be him.
In desperation, he’d turned to the archives.
Cliffsinging was old. It was respected. Revered. Generations upon generations of Singers had practiced their art, handing down their names. Over time, the art had become codified… the Singers had become living treasures… but the original works survived. Every generation had added something of their own.
He’d delved deep into the stacks, diving through the recordings, searching the early works. There were files and archives and even printed records… He’d torn through all of them, not knowing what he was looking for until he’d found it.
The song was old - ancient, even - and written by one of the Singers whose name had not become selected as the final Twelve of Shil. The music was haunting, and it burned with a vibrancy that he didn't see in the more modern works - the kind of thing so often in demand now. There was almost no music - the singer's voice rang out alone, echoing off the cliffs accompanied only by a single steel arecha… but the song spoke to him.
The language was stilted with age, but as he’d translated it into more modern terms, it felt comfortable… it had the yearning that he felt inside, and which almost seemed Human in its power as he transcribed and updated it for his presentation.
It was traditional. It was very traditional. If he was going to reclaim his Mistress’ approval, this was what he needed.
He’d give his performance tonight, in front of his Mistress and the others. Show them he was good enough. Show her that he was better than the rest.
The music called and he had to answer.
Aku sighed again, wondering what the twins were doing at school right now. It had to be better than here.
_ _ _
“You are being such a bitch!” Kas’lin said hotly, scowling over the table at Dihsala. Ka’mara scowled over at the girl before joining in. “She’s right. There’s no call for this kind of behavior!”
“You two brought it on yourselves!” Dihsala crossed her arms defiantly, while Desi slumped the chair, resting her head on one fist, and steadfastly refused to join in.
“What are you talking about!? You’re twisting our arms… and… AND! you’re sucking up to Jax’mi!” Kas’lin was on her feet now, pointing at Dihsala, and Kas’lin rose in defense. There wasn't much more she could add to that.
“I don’t suck up to anyone!” Dihsala snapped coldly, though Jaxmi sat back, preening. It was the first happy look on the Chel’xa girl's face, as she’d been left desperately trying to keep the Japanese out of some city called Mecca. “You two brought it on yourselves, sucking up to England with that marriage proposal. You didn't want to join in, so this is what you get for coming late!”
“There’s nothing to get.” Kas’lin swept a hand up at the map on the screen. “They’ve completely swept everything out of Africa!”
“Well, that’s what you get for joining late. Anything you want to take, you can take out of France,” Dihsala said with finality. “Isn't that right, Lark?”
Khe’lark was looking at her omni-pad unhappily, saying nothing. Dihsala turned to look at her this time. “Lark?”
“It’s fine… Really…” Lark said unhappily.
“What?” Dihsala started to frown, and Desi sat up taking notice. “What’s ‘fine’?”
“Well, I didn't want to tell you this… but I think the Czechs are going to declare independence and revolt…”
Kas’lin closed her eyes and settled back in her chair.
The casualties for everyone along the French front lines had been catastrophic, the Spanish were useless, and now things were going to the Deeps with Austria…
…The things I do for extra credit…
_ _ _
“Well, I think the points we spent working on the Czechs and the Slovenes are paying off handsomely,” Let’zi said confidently, though the look around the table wasn’t encouraging.
“At least something is.” Pris grimaced, gesturing up at the map. “I hate to say it, but I don’t think France can last much longer.”
“She’s right. Rotating units up from the South kept the Germans out of Paris,” Sephir sighed gloomily. “But morale was shot with the units we rotated back South. We hoped they’d recover, but with Spain and Italy attacking? Unless we catch a break, I think our whole army will mutiny soon.”
“They can’t keep it up. They’ve lost all their colonies, now they have to fight in every direction at once.” Let’zi shook her head and tried sounding confident, though it was dimmed. “They can't do it. No one could!”
“She’s right, and England is mobilized now.” Melondi studied the map carefully, “Japan is all over the Ottomans in the South. Russia is… well… holding their own…”
“I’m doing the best I can…” Nestha huffed, crossing her arms. “Though yeah, the Ottomans are turning around and sending troops back South.”
“That’s right,” Melondi said brightly. “Besides, now we have Belda on our side!”
The girls looked over at Belda… who was staring off into space in a world of her own.
“Look, let’s call it a day. Bel has to go get dressed.” Mel grinned as Belda looked up, utterly lost. “She’s got a big evening.”
_ _ _
“Lieutenant, you aren't going to believe this…”
Lt. Peheli Tala looked over from the control board warily to where Sgt Diani was sitting in the right seat at observation. The bunker pods were all jumbled up with Captain Ton’is and Sgt. Jel’ke out on their trip, leaving Tala to fill in. It was a nice change of pace from running checks in the service corridors and updating the gear in the bunker.
Diani had been running the boards while telling long war stories to Sgt Vaeko, who was busily running the odds on that morning’s ‘wargame’ while monitoring the girls’ strategy sessions.
Words like that out of nowhere were not what she’d wanted to hear.
Diani and Vaeko had been keeping up a constant stream of conversation, both talking and only mostly listening to the other. It was enough to make her miss the quiet of the tunnels, and she’d started to tune out the idle chatter. Diani’s words snapped her back to reality in an instant, her heart pounding.
“Report Sgt!” Tala snapped the words out, but she was already pulling up the campus map on the main board, checking frantically for any sitreps from the ground team. No alarms had gone off yet, but it was probably only seconds away.
…Where's the alarm? Why hasn't anyone punched the alarm!? I’ll have to call Agent Duvari, and…
“It’s Captain Ton’is and Jel’ke.” Diani had a cheesy grin plastered over her wide features. “They need us to make some calls and get em a hotel room… You aren’t gonna believe where.”
Tala could feel her heart thudding in her chest. No alarms had gone off. There was no intrusion along the perimeter…
“A… a what?”
_ _ _
The Imperial Ocean Reserve was everything that Tom could have hoped for. It was old by Shil’vati standards, but that didn't mean tired. It meant historic, and walking into the lobby conjured up images only found in history books. The Reserve was a place where parasols graced the lawns in Summer and moonlight walks on the open beach were the norm. On Earth, it was the sort of place you could envision steamer trunks and top hats.
There were three restaurants along the veranda, and a bar, shops, and sumptuous indoor pool that served guests all year long. The hotel was vast. Not in the sense of catering to all comers, but spacious. It occupied its grounds like a crowning jewel.
As for their room?
It had a luxurious bed he could get lost in, more than capable of sleeping six Shil’vati. While he usually wasn’t big on the details, even he noticed the richly embroidered linens, what seemed like down pillows, the plush towels in the marble bathroom, well-stocked bar, and an in-room omni-pad to call for room service and requests.
That the whole suite lay beneath the ocean, with a glass roof and walls looking out from their bedroom at the surrounding coral reef, didn’t hurt either.
It was quite a place, but as the girls got started with the unpacking, he slipped out. It had always been his habit to poke around, and finding the best place for dinner reservations seemed like a good idea. A few minutes scouting out the restaurants would save time later…
At least, that had been the idea. The verandah surrounding the hotel proper had a lovely view directly off the beach, and as anyone would expect, it drew admiring guests… One of which happened to be Lady Vonde, the Duchess of House Jo’lare.
Tom hadn't seen the woman since Pre-term, when she’d attached herself to him in the tour, insistently tried to get him to ‘come for a visit,' and pinched his ass while showing her daughter around the campus. She’d been noteworthy in managing to do it more discreetly than most, but still…
Just at the moment Lady Vonde was in a shouting match against someone named Duchess Pyanfar, who’d swarmed down on him only a minute before Vonde. Pyanfar had started in on him with her retinue, breathlessly cooing about how charmed she was to meet him and wanting to hear all the details about Human marriages, and of course, she’d seen the captivating video on the news. It was just sooo rustic, positively enthralling, going native like that!
But Vonde spotted him and wasn’t having any of it, loudly insisting that he’d agreed to visit, and did Pyanfar know who she was!? Then her retinue started pushing Vonde’s retinue, while a crowd started to gather around the scene…
Tom was the only non-Shil in the room, and being 6’2 and pink, it wasn't easy to make himself invisible. He still did his best, though it was more a testament to the crowd of angry retainers around Vonde and Pyanfar that he got as far as the door of the bar. He kept his eyes behind him on the crowd as he made a break for it, barging first into a glass followed by a massive pair of breasts…
“Oh! Geeze…” Tom stepped back, “I’m terribly sorry Miss…”
A meaty hand clamped down on his arm painfully, and Tom looked up into the ruddy face of Tirola Reshay, Nestha’s kho-mother.
Disheveled and stinking of alcohol,Tirola wasn't in good shape. She’d emerged from the bar with her own crowd of hangers-on, including a Shil’vati guy hanging on her arm, and while she’d somehow managed to hang on to her glass, the collision had drenched her top in Blue Grail. Her eyes widened as she looked down at him and she growled, “You!!!”
…Alright, she isn’t in a good mood, though the last time I saw her she’d been unconscious in a pool of her own vomit…
Tirola made the mistake of clamping down harder, and Tom cried out in pained surprise. “Hey, get your damn hand off me!”
“Oh, you’re coming with me." Tirola tugged him closer…
Tom’s fingers spread and he jabbed. The strike was clumsy and he was off balance, but as eye-pokes went, it did the job.
Tirola let go of him and bellowed, her hand flying to one eye. The skinny guy thrown off her arm shrieked in bantam fury as he was thrown to the ground.
Then things got a little crazy.
_ _ _
Sgt. Jel’ke knew Big Money. She also knew when Big Money was fobbing her off. Thus far, they’d made it to the lobby and the reservation staff.
The ‘request’ had come down through official channels, but the Manager wasn't happy about it. Despite some ever-so-polite words, it seemed another call eventually came through and did the trick. The Manager accepted their story, and started offering over a room key with only a trace of disdain…
Out in the lobby, there was a scream.
It was followed a minute later by the sight of Tom Warrick pelting up the hall at a dead run and ducking into one of the gift shops, pursued by several mobs of women caught up in fighting each other as much as chasing after him.
“Captain, I-”
It was no use. Ce’lani Ton’is had already charged, and was racing across the lobby in hot pursuit. Glancing down at their meager baggage, she had the presence of mind to snatch the key from the Manager’s hand before she could take it back.
Somewhere up the hall Ce’lani bellowed.
Moments later a thunderous crash rumbled from somewhere up the hall. It was followed by the sound of delicate things breaking, considerably more shouting, and a soft cloud of plaster dust that gently wafted around the corner.
Jel’ke turned to the wide-eyed receptionist behind the counter and gave him a rakish smile. “So, what time is dinner?”
2023.03.24 12:32 -Bonjour-- Discovering the Southwest of Australia
From my travel report (2005/2006):
During our 1st Australia trip we already spent some time in PERTH and therefore knew the city and surroundings quite well. Towards the north we had already visited the Pinnacles and Monkey Mia with the dolphins in Shark Bay.
Therefore, we now wanted to look at the rather unknown southwest.And it was worth it!
From Perth we first drove south through the so-called Wheat Belt to get to HYDEN. This is a place where you really only go to see the WAVE ROCK. After we checked into our room at the Hyden Motel, we visited the Magic Lake about 1 km away - the water there is poison green.
Because of the heat we walked to Wave Rock and Hippo's Yawn in the late afternoon. Unfortunately we couldn't stay there too long, because even in December there were many flies. Hippo's Yawn was formed by erosion and actually looks like a hippo's mouth.Wave Rock, 15 meters high and 110 meters long, is an amazing rock formation, created by chemical erosion over thousands of years. Rainwater created pink and gray streaks on the huge granite wave.
To get to Kalgoorlie - our next destination - one normally drives via Mount Walker, Narrembin, Merredin and South Cross. But our landlord recommended us to drive the unpaved road - actually not allowed with rental cars - from Hyden to the Great Eastern Highway - because this route is much shorter. And since the road was completely dry, we did it that way. We drove through the beautiful bush landscape with many flowers to the Great Eastern Highway, and on the approx. 2 hours long drive we encountered "believe it or not" only 8 cars.
KALGOORLIE is an interesting old gold mining town. We spent the night at the Quality Inn Railway. It was so hot there that we didn't explore the town until late afternoon. There are many historic buildings, especially on Hannan Street.
We drove to the Mont Charlotte Lookout with a nice view of the city and the surrounding area. Mount Charlotte is the site of the O'Connor Water Reservoir. The pipeline brings water from about 560 km away near Perth to Kalgoorlie.
The heritage of the mining pioneers is still alive in the city, although nowadays, of course, only modern mining technology is used.
Australia's wealth depends on its mines. After mining, however, it unfortunately looks like a lunar landscape.... But it is interesting all the same!
The next morning we drove to the Super Pit Lookout to have a look into the depth, where giant machines look like toy cars. The Super Pit is 320 m deep, 3.2 km long and 1.3 km wide. In 1893 gold was found for the first time and until today there is the largest open pit mine in the world, where gold is mined and since the 1960s also nickel, uranium and lead. We also visited the Mining Hall of Fame, where extensive memorabilia from the old mining days was displayed in a large open-air area.
We also drove to BOULDER. This town was merged with Kalgoorlie in 1989. In Boulder only the railroad station is of interest, because the Indian Pacific stops here.
From Kalgoorlie we went on to ESPERANCE. We stayed overnight at the Best Western Hospitality Inn, located directly on the beautiful bay. Esperance took its development around 1895 because many people set out from there for the Gold Spring. Esperance has a mild climate and very beautiful surroundings with many small islands, great beaches and huge nature parks.
The next morning we first explored the Great Ocean Drive near Esperance with some very nice beaches. We made stops at Rotary Lookout with a view of Esperance, the bay and islands, at Twilight Beach and Blue Haven Beach and at Pink Lake.
Another excursion we made was of course to CAPE-LE-GRAND National Park. The national park is located about 50 km from Esperance in southern direction. It is one of the most spectacular parks of Australia with the wild coast, the heath landscape, the granite peaks and the rocks formed by erosion. The first stop we made was at Rossiter Bay.
Lucky Bay has been awarded several times as one of the top 10 beaches in the world. The beach is simply gorgeous, but unfortunately the crystal clear water is so cold that you can probably only swim there with a wetsuit. Each bay is uniquely enclosed with striking granite rocks - simply picturesque postcard motifs!
The imposing Whistling Rock can be seen from far away. It got its name because it seems to whisper depending on the strength of the wind. The sound is created when the wind whistles through the cracks and holes in the rock.
Hellfire Beach - my favorite beach - is located in a sheltered bay and framed by flat rocks. The whole area with the beautiful beaches was completely deserted. After all, we were there for a few hours and didn't see a single person there. The Grand Beach is really - as its name says - huge, also with almost white sand. Unfortunately it was so windy there that we didn't stay there for long.
We went on to ALBANY. Before the harbor in Fremantle was built, Albany was the most important harbor for the British Crown in Australia at that time. Albany has about 16,000 inhabitants and has an extensive natural harbor in the bay "King George Sound". It is the oldest settlement in Western Australia. We were able to rent a nice little house in Albany for a few days. During a walk through the town we saw some nice historic houses. The former whale station is a museum. From Albany you can still watch whales very well. St. John's Church from 1848 is the first Anglican church in Western Australia and reminds of an English country church. From Mount Clarence you have a nice view of the bay and the city.From there we drove to Emu Point beach, but unfortunately there were many annoying flies, so we did not stay long.
The next day we drove over the French Bay Road to the TORNDIRRUP National Park with the Natural Bridge and the Gap. Here you can see fantastic rock formations, formed 47 million years ago when Australia and Antarctica broke apart. Unfortunately the "Blow Holes" did not "blow", but instead there were many annoying flies. The park is 3900 ha large and offers cliffs, crevices and spout holes as well as beaches and lush vegetation between the headlands. A point of interest is the Natural Bridge made of granite. From the "Gap" you can look into a 30 m deep rock cut.
We also made a "side trip" to the 1913 founded STIRLING RANGES National Park. Of the 298 km there we drove 42 km on natural roads. The mountains in the national park are famous for their magnificent play of colors and are partly over 1000 m high and altogether more than 65 km long. There are well signposted but steep hiking trails and many picnic areas. Outside the park is a replica of a 16th century windmill that was still in full operation. A Dutch couple runs a small restaurant in the original 1924 railroad building next door. The highest peak is Bluff Knoll at 1063 meters. After a picnic at Bluff Knoll Lookout we drove the almost 300 km back to Albany.
We continued our trip on Beach Road via Denmark with good surfing possibilities to WALPOLE-NORNALUP National Park. This national park is about 18.000 ha big with rivers, over 400 years old up to 70m high Karri trees with a circumference up to 20 m, waterfalls and many wild flowers in spring. An attraction is the 600 m long Tree Top Walk up to 40 m above the ground, where you get a good impression of the huge trees. Maybe this walk is one of the reasons that the Valley of Giants is one of the most popular tourist attractions in Western Australia
We stayed overnight at the Best Western in Pemperton. From there we made a trip to GLOUCESTER National Park. This park is best known for the huge 62 m high Karri tree. Since 1947 there is one of the highest fire lookouts in the world on this tree. From up there you have of course a fantastic view, if you dare to go up there. My husband was brave enough and climbed up to the "Fire lookout".
AUGUSTA was founded in 1830 and is the third oldest town in Western Australia. We stayed there at the "Holiday Unit Cove". A beautiful beach near Augusta is located in Flinders Bay, and again many annoying flies. This bay is especially popular with surfers. We still ventured - despite heavy rain - to CAPRE LEEWIN, 9 km away. Unfortunately we couldn't get out of the car, it was too stormy to open the car doors. In addition, the rain then became a real downpour. The next day we got out of the car at the lighthouse, which was built more than 100 years ago. Cape Leeuwin is the geographical point where the Indian and the Southern Ocean meet and is also the most southwestern corner of Australia. We still admired the "Water Wheel" that the workers used to get fresh water when building the lighthouse.
MARGARET RIVER was settled by Europeans in 1850 and became a center for agriculture and logging. Now, however, it is dominated by vineyards, as the climate is ideal for growing grapes. The town is located about 10 km from the sea, on the coast there are beautiful beaches and also ideal surfing. It was Christmas Day and we spent the afternoon at Gnarup Beach. We had tried in vain to enjoy a nice Christmas dinner, but unfortunately most restaurants were closed. And those that were open were, of course, fully booked. Fortunately, we had an emergency supply with us, which we then more or less "enjoyed" on the terrace of our room at "Comfort Inn The Grange".... The 2nd Christmas Day then went better: we made a wine tour at various wineries with a gourmet lunch in the program. It went to the wineries "Windance" - had for me the best wines, but they were quite expensive- "Flying Fish" and "Knotting Hill Winery". And finally we visited the Colonial Brewery, a real "hangout" for the Australians.
We continued via Dunsbury at the beautiful Geographic Bay to BUSSELTON. In this area there are about 30 km of beaches to Cape Naturaliste, ideal for all water sports. On the road between Dunsbury and Busselton two kangaroos ran across the road in front of us, which is rarely seen. Because mostly they lie dead on the roadside. Well, these two had survived at least for the moment.
The 2 km long 140 year old "Jetty" in Busselton is a wooden construction, one of the longest jetties in Australia and reminds of the beginnings of the town as a timber handling port. The jetty is only secured on one side, so you have to be careful not to take an involuntary dip. There wasn't too much choice of recommendable accommodation in Busselton, so we only stayed for one night.
BUNBURY is the second largest city in Western Australia and is located on a peninsula. Since the 19th century, the city developed into a busy port and regional industrial center. We had no trouble finding accommodation here, at the "Lighthouse Beach Resort". Bunbury is a good place to watch dolphins. In a large supermarket in Bunbury we bought supplies, because we had rented a small townhouse (Ocean Villas) for a few weeks at our next destination - Scarborough.
SCARBOROUGH or SCARBORO is a small town with about 12,000 inhabitants, 15 minutes by car from Perth. Directly on the beach is the only higher house - a luxury hotel. Otherwise there are luxury villas as well as simple smaller houses - often for rent. At the esplanade you can find restaurants, cafes and small stores. There is a supermarket and of course the "bottle store", which is almost obligatory in Australia, selling alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. A few minutes by car further north you will find a bigger supermarket, and fruit and vegetables can be bought cheaper in Wannerou Market a bit east of Scarboro. There is a bus connection to Perth if you don't want to drive.
Scarboro is known for its beautiful white sand beaches, but the surf is usually very strong. At the beach of Scarboro is actually always "something going on". The kite surfers or bodysurfers can be found on the beach every day in the conditions. On the weekends there are mostly events on the beach, e.g. competitions of the Baywatch teams from different places.
To Trigg Beach, 1.4 km away, you can walk along the promenade and don't have to trudge through the deep sand. South of Scarboro there is Cottesloe Beach or closer to Perth City Beach and further north Sorrento Beach at Hillarys - so you are spoiled for choice with the beaches. It was of course very hot at this time of year, and sporting activities - except water sports - are best postponed to early morning or sometimes late afternoon. Because in the afternoon occasionally came the "Fremantle Doctor" - that is a refreshing wind that blows in the hot summer from Fremantle towards Perth.
On New Year's Eve, we ordered a table in time in a restaurant with first-class seafood, because we didn't want to experience the same disappointment as at Christmas in Margaret River. It was relatively quiet in Scarboro that evening. We drank the chilled champagne in "our" house, since drinking alcohol on the street or on the beach is prohibited. This was also controlled by the police - well, maybe one has made bad experiences.
From Scarboro we also made a trip to JOODALUP LAKE to see the black swans, which to my knowledge only exist in Western Australia.
PERTH with about 1.4 million inhabitants is the third largest city in Australia. It is very remote, because the next bigger city - Adelaide - is about 2700 km away. Perth was founded in 1929 and is today a modern metropolis with high-rise towers, pedestrian zones in the center, shopping centers, many parks and a lively cultural and art scene. In the Australian summer it is very hot and dry, so the already mentioned "Freemantle Doctor" is always welcome. In winter, however, the average temperature is "only" about 17°. Perth is one of the most beautiful cities in Australia and is located at the Swan River and not at the sea as some might assume. The center is easy to explore on foot. Otherwise there are free cat buses with three different routes where you can get a good overview of the city. Worth seeing is the bell tower at Barrack Square and the shopping street "London Court". Directly at Barrack Square there is a much frequented "Hangout". The district of Northbridge is known for many restaurants and entertainment in the evening. Interesting for shopping is the "Outlet Mall Harbour Town". In Perth, despite many modern buildings, there are still historic buildings: e.g. Government House from 1864, Town Hall from 1867 and His Majesty's Theatre from 1904.
The approx. 400 ha large Kings Park was founded at the end of the 19th century and is located above the city center. In former times it was a holy place for the Aborigines. Today the park is still mostly original bush land. It is worth coming here for the beautiful view of the Perth skyline and the Swan River alone. Of course you can also hike and picnic in this large park. The Perth Zoo is located on the south bank of the Swan River and is worth a visit. If you haven't seen kangaroos in the wild, at least you have that opportunity here.
A special for us unforgettable experience in Perth was Australia Day. We exceptionally went by bus from Scarboro to Perth, because on this day parking places in the city are scarce. This day is celebrated like a big folk festival, especially on the banks of the Swan River, which forms a lake here. The Australians organize a huge picnic with the whole family. There is music everywhere and countless events and displays on the water with boats and in the air with helicopters and aerobatic squadrons. As it got dark, 2 helis flew over the water. One with a huge Australian flag, the other illuminated this flag with a spotlight. In addition, the Australian national anthem sounded, which was eagerly sung along. A "goose bumps" experience that we will certainly never forget. Finally, there was a huge fireworks display.
The SWAN VALLEY is mainly known for wine growing. The main town is Guildford. Of course we did not miss the opportunity to visit some wineries, to taste and buy wine. In the Swan Valley you can drive along the Swan Valley Drive. There you will pass the oldest church in Western Australia "All Saints Church". At "Oggies Ice Creamery" you can eat delicious ice cream. And in the German beer garden "Duckstein Brewery" you can drink beer.
We also took a trip from Scarboro to AVON VALLEY. NORTHAM on the Avon with many historic buildings is the largest town in the interior of Western Australia and is located in the heart of the Avon Valley and originated as an agricultural center at the beginning of the colonial period. Around 1890 the town was also one of the gateways to the goldfields of Kalgoorlie. TOODYAY is also home to 19th century architecture. YORK originated in 1831 with many historic 19th century houses is the oldest town in the Avon Valley. In all three villages there are suspension bridges for pedestrians over the river, the longest is in Northam.
The 18 square kilometers large WALYNUGA National Park is located in the Avon Valley. Here was one of the largest Aboriginal settlements in the Perth region. In summer the Avon River has calm, water-filled pools for swimming, but in winter it becomes a raging river with numerous rapids.
YANCHEP National Park is located about an hour's drive north of Perth. The park, about 28 square kilometers in size, was established in 1957 and is rich in fauna and flora. Most people come here to admire koalas. We wanted to hike on the Wetland walk trail - passing Wagurdu Lake and Loch McNess. But unfortunately we had to turn back after 2/3 of the way. A bush fire had destroyed two bridges further ahead - was not indicated at the beginning of the trail...
On the 240 m long Koala Boardwalk you can observe the animals in a natural environment. They are busy either eating or lounging. The area for the koalas is a separate fenced part of the national park - so not quite "free range". But theoretically the animals could leave the area. The big gray kangaroos, which should also be in the park, we have unfortunately not seen - perhaps the wrong time of day.
In FREMANTLE directly at the sea south of Perth - which we already got to know well on a previous trip - there are free cat buses as well. A much visited "hangout" in this town is "Little Creative Brewery" with good pub food. You can also sit outside right on the water.
submitted by -Bonjour-- to ThornTree [link] [comments]
During our 1st Australia trip we already spent some time in PERTH and therefore knew the city and surroundings quite well. Towards the north we had already visited the Pinnacles and Monkey Mia with the dolphins in Shark Bay.
Therefore, we now wanted to look at the rather unknown southwest.And it was worth it!
From Perth we first drove south through the so-called Wheat Belt to get to HYDEN. This is a place where you really only go to see the WAVE ROCK. After we checked into our room at the Hyden Motel, we visited the Magic Lake about 1 km away - the water there is poison green.
Because of the heat we walked to Wave Rock and Hippo's Yawn in the late afternoon. Unfortunately we couldn't stay there too long, because even in December there were many flies. Hippo's Yawn was formed by erosion and actually looks like a hippo's mouth.Wave Rock, 15 meters high and 110 meters long, is an amazing rock formation, created by chemical erosion over thousands of years. Rainwater created pink and gray streaks on the huge granite wave.
To get to Kalgoorlie - our next destination - one normally drives via Mount Walker, Narrembin, Merredin and South Cross. But our landlord recommended us to drive the unpaved road - actually not allowed with rental cars - from Hyden to the Great Eastern Highway - because this route is much shorter. And since the road was completely dry, we did it that way. We drove through the beautiful bush landscape with many flowers to the Great Eastern Highway, and on the approx. 2 hours long drive we encountered "believe it or not" only 8 cars.
KALGOORLIE is an interesting old gold mining town. We spent the night at the Quality Inn Railway. It was so hot there that we didn't explore the town until late afternoon. There are many historic buildings, especially on Hannan Street.
We drove to the Mont Charlotte Lookout with a nice view of the city and the surrounding area. Mount Charlotte is the site of the O'Connor Water Reservoir. The pipeline brings water from about 560 km away near Perth to Kalgoorlie.
The heritage of the mining pioneers is still alive in the city, although nowadays, of course, only modern mining technology is used.
Australia's wealth depends on its mines. After mining, however, it unfortunately looks like a lunar landscape.... But it is interesting all the same!
The next morning we drove to the Super Pit Lookout to have a look into the depth, where giant machines look like toy cars. The Super Pit is 320 m deep, 3.2 km long and 1.3 km wide. In 1893 gold was found for the first time and until today there is the largest open pit mine in the world, where gold is mined and since the 1960s also nickel, uranium and lead. We also visited the Mining Hall of Fame, where extensive memorabilia from the old mining days was displayed in a large open-air area.
We also drove to BOULDER. This town was merged with Kalgoorlie in 1989. In Boulder only the railroad station is of interest, because the Indian Pacific stops here.
From Kalgoorlie we went on to ESPERANCE. We stayed overnight at the Best Western Hospitality Inn, located directly on the beautiful bay. Esperance took its development around 1895 because many people set out from there for the Gold Spring. Esperance has a mild climate and very beautiful surroundings with many small islands, great beaches and huge nature parks.
The next morning we first explored the Great Ocean Drive near Esperance with some very nice beaches. We made stops at Rotary Lookout with a view of Esperance, the bay and islands, at Twilight Beach and Blue Haven Beach and at Pink Lake.
Another excursion we made was of course to CAPE-LE-GRAND National Park. The national park is located about 50 km from Esperance in southern direction. It is one of the most spectacular parks of Australia with the wild coast, the heath landscape, the granite peaks and the rocks formed by erosion. The first stop we made was at Rossiter Bay.
Lucky Bay has been awarded several times as one of the top 10 beaches in the world. The beach is simply gorgeous, but unfortunately the crystal clear water is so cold that you can probably only swim there with a wetsuit. Each bay is uniquely enclosed with striking granite rocks - simply picturesque postcard motifs!
The imposing Whistling Rock can be seen from far away. It got its name because it seems to whisper depending on the strength of the wind. The sound is created when the wind whistles through the cracks and holes in the rock.
Hellfire Beach - my favorite beach - is located in a sheltered bay and framed by flat rocks. The whole area with the beautiful beaches was completely deserted. After all, we were there for a few hours and didn't see a single person there. The Grand Beach is really - as its name says - huge, also with almost white sand. Unfortunately it was so windy there that we didn't stay there for long.
We went on to ALBANY. Before the harbor in Fremantle was built, Albany was the most important harbor for the British Crown in Australia at that time. Albany has about 16,000 inhabitants and has an extensive natural harbor in the bay "King George Sound". It is the oldest settlement in Western Australia. We were able to rent a nice little house in Albany for a few days. During a walk through the town we saw some nice historic houses. The former whale station is a museum. From Albany you can still watch whales very well. St. John's Church from 1848 is the first Anglican church in Western Australia and reminds of an English country church. From Mount Clarence you have a nice view of the bay and the city.From there we drove to Emu Point beach, but unfortunately there were many annoying flies, so we did not stay long.
The next day we drove over the French Bay Road to the TORNDIRRUP National Park with the Natural Bridge and the Gap. Here you can see fantastic rock formations, formed 47 million years ago when Australia and Antarctica broke apart. Unfortunately the "Blow Holes" did not "blow", but instead there were many annoying flies. The park is 3900 ha large and offers cliffs, crevices and spout holes as well as beaches and lush vegetation between the headlands. A point of interest is the Natural Bridge made of granite. From the "Gap" you can look into a 30 m deep rock cut.
We also made a "side trip" to the 1913 founded STIRLING RANGES National Park. Of the 298 km there we drove 42 km on natural roads. The mountains in the national park are famous for their magnificent play of colors and are partly over 1000 m high and altogether more than 65 km long. There are well signposted but steep hiking trails and many picnic areas. Outside the park is a replica of a 16th century windmill that was still in full operation. A Dutch couple runs a small restaurant in the original 1924 railroad building next door. The highest peak is Bluff Knoll at 1063 meters. After a picnic at Bluff Knoll Lookout we drove the almost 300 km back to Albany.
We continued our trip on Beach Road via Denmark with good surfing possibilities to WALPOLE-NORNALUP National Park. This national park is about 18.000 ha big with rivers, over 400 years old up to 70m high Karri trees with a circumference up to 20 m, waterfalls and many wild flowers in spring. An attraction is the 600 m long Tree Top Walk up to 40 m above the ground, where you get a good impression of the huge trees. Maybe this walk is one of the reasons that the Valley of Giants is one of the most popular tourist attractions in Western Australia
We stayed overnight at the Best Western in Pemperton. From there we made a trip to GLOUCESTER National Park. This park is best known for the huge 62 m high Karri tree. Since 1947 there is one of the highest fire lookouts in the world on this tree. From up there you have of course a fantastic view, if you dare to go up there. My husband was brave enough and climbed up to the "Fire lookout".
AUGUSTA was founded in 1830 and is the third oldest town in Western Australia. We stayed there at the "Holiday Unit Cove". A beautiful beach near Augusta is located in Flinders Bay, and again many annoying flies. This bay is especially popular with surfers. We still ventured - despite heavy rain - to CAPRE LEEWIN, 9 km away. Unfortunately we couldn't get out of the car, it was too stormy to open the car doors. In addition, the rain then became a real downpour. The next day we got out of the car at the lighthouse, which was built more than 100 years ago. Cape Leeuwin is the geographical point where the Indian and the Southern Ocean meet and is also the most southwestern corner of Australia. We still admired the "Water Wheel" that the workers used to get fresh water when building the lighthouse.
MARGARET RIVER was settled by Europeans in 1850 and became a center for agriculture and logging. Now, however, it is dominated by vineyards, as the climate is ideal for growing grapes. The town is located about 10 km from the sea, on the coast there are beautiful beaches and also ideal surfing. It was Christmas Day and we spent the afternoon at Gnarup Beach. We had tried in vain to enjoy a nice Christmas dinner, but unfortunately most restaurants were closed. And those that were open were, of course, fully booked. Fortunately, we had an emergency supply with us, which we then more or less "enjoyed" on the terrace of our room at "Comfort Inn The Grange".... The 2nd Christmas Day then went better: we made a wine tour at various wineries with a gourmet lunch in the program. It went to the wineries "Windance" - had for me the best wines, but they were quite expensive- "Flying Fish" and "Knotting Hill Winery". And finally we visited the Colonial Brewery, a real "hangout" for the Australians.
We continued via Dunsbury at the beautiful Geographic Bay to BUSSELTON. In this area there are about 30 km of beaches to Cape Naturaliste, ideal for all water sports. On the road between Dunsbury and Busselton two kangaroos ran across the road in front of us, which is rarely seen. Because mostly they lie dead on the roadside. Well, these two had survived at least for the moment.
The 2 km long 140 year old "Jetty" in Busselton is a wooden construction, one of the longest jetties in Australia and reminds of the beginnings of the town as a timber handling port. The jetty is only secured on one side, so you have to be careful not to take an involuntary dip. There wasn't too much choice of recommendable accommodation in Busselton, so we only stayed for one night.
BUNBURY is the second largest city in Western Australia and is located on a peninsula. Since the 19th century, the city developed into a busy port and regional industrial center. We had no trouble finding accommodation here, at the "Lighthouse Beach Resort". Bunbury is a good place to watch dolphins. In a large supermarket in Bunbury we bought supplies, because we had rented a small townhouse (Ocean Villas) for a few weeks at our next destination - Scarborough.
SCARBOROUGH or SCARBORO is a small town with about 12,000 inhabitants, 15 minutes by car from Perth. Directly on the beach is the only higher house - a luxury hotel. Otherwise there are luxury villas as well as simple smaller houses - often for rent. At the esplanade you can find restaurants, cafes and small stores. There is a supermarket and of course the "bottle store", which is almost obligatory in Australia, selling alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. A few minutes by car further north you will find a bigger supermarket, and fruit and vegetables can be bought cheaper in Wannerou Market a bit east of Scarboro. There is a bus connection to Perth if you don't want to drive.
Scarboro is known for its beautiful white sand beaches, but the surf is usually very strong. At the beach of Scarboro is actually always "something going on". The kite surfers or bodysurfers can be found on the beach every day in the conditions. On the weekends there are mostly events on the beach, e.g. competitions of the Baywatch teams from different places.
To Trigg Beach, 1.4 km away, you can walk along the promenade and don't have to trudge through the deep sand. South of Scarboro there is Cottesloe Beach or closer to Perth City Beach and further north Sorrento Beach at Hillarys - so you are spoiled for choice with the beaches. It was of course very hot at this time of year, and sporting activities - except water sports - are best postponed to early morning or sometimes late afternoon. Because in the afternoon occasionally came the "Fremantle Doctor" - that is a refreshing wind that blows in the hot summer from Fremantle towards Perth.
On New Year's Eve, we ordered a table in time in a restaurant with first-class seafood, because we didn't want to experience the same disappointment as at Christmas in Margaret River. It was relatively quiet in Scarboro that evening. We drank the chilled champagne in "our" house, since drinking alcohol on the street or on the beach is prohibited. This was also controlled by the police - well, maybe one has made bad experiences.
From Scarboro we also made a trip to JOODALUP LAKE to see the black swans, which to my knowledge only exist in Western Australia.
PERTH with about 1.4 million inhabitants is the third largest city in Australia. It is very remote, because the next bigger city - Adelaide - is about 2700 km away. Perth was founded in 1929 and is today a modern metropolis with high-rise towers, pedestrian zones in the center, shopping centers, many parks and a lively cultural and art scene. In the Australian summer it is very hot and dry, so the already mentioned "Freemantle Doctor" is always welcome. In winter, however, the average temperature is "only" about 17°. Perth is one of the most beautiful cities in Australia and is located at the Swan River and not at the sea as some might assume. The center is easy to explore on foot. Otherwise there are free cat buses with three different routes where you can get a good overview of the city. Worth seeing is the bell tower at Barrack Square and the shopping street "London Court". Directly at Barrack Square there is a much frequented "Hangout". The district of Northbridge is known for many restaurants and entertainment in the evening. Interesting for shopping is the "Outlet Mall Harbour Town". In Perth, despite many modern buildings, there are still historic buildings: e.g. Government House from 1864, Town Hall from 1867 and His Majesty's Theatre from 1904.
The approx. 400 ha large Kings Park was founded at the end of the 19th century and is located above the city center. In former times it was a holy place for the Aborigines. Today the park is still mostly original bush land. It is worth coming here for the beautiful view of the Perth skyline and the Swan River alone. Of course you can also hike and picnic in this large park. The Perth Zoo is located on the south bank of the Swan River and is worth a visit. If you haven't seen kangaroos in the wild, at least you have that opportunity here.
A special for us unforgettable experience in Perth was Australia Day. We exceptionally went by bus from Scarboro to Perth, because on this day parking places in the city are scarce. This day is celebrated like a big folk festival, especially on the banks of the Swan River, which forms a lake here. The Australians organize a huge picnic with the whole family. There is music everywhere and countless events and displays on the water with boats and in the air with helicopters and aerobatic squadrons. As it got dark, 2 helis flew over the water. One with a huge Australian flag, the other illuminated this flag with a spotlight. In addition, the Australian national anthem sounded, which was eagerly sung along. A "goose bumps" experience that we will certainly never forget. Finally, there was a huge fireworks display.
The SWAN VALLEY is mainly known for wine growing. The main town is Guildford. Of course we did not miss the opportunity to visit some wineries, to taste and buy wine. In the Swan Valley you can drive along the Swan Valley Drive. There you will pass the oldest church in Western Australia "All Saints Church". At "Oggies Ice Creamery" you can eat delicious ice cream. And in the German beer garden "Duckstein Brewery" you can drink beer.
We also took a trip from Scarboro to AVON VALLEY. NORTHAM on the Avon with many historic buildings is the largest town in the interior of Western Australia and is located in the heart of the Avon Valley and originated as an agricultural center at the beginning of the colonial period. Around 1890 the town was also one of the gateways to the goldfields of Kalgoorlie. TOODYAY is also home to 19th century architecture. YORK originated in 1831 with many historic 19th century houses is the oldest town in the Avon Valley. In all three villages there are suspension bridges for pedestrians over the river, the longest is in Northam.
The 18 square kilometers large WALYNUGA National Park is located in the Avon Valley. Here was one of the largest Aboriginal settlements in the Perth region. In summer the Avon River has calm, water-filled pools for swimming, but in winter it becomes a raging river with numerous rapids.
YANCHEP National Park is located about an hour's drive north of Perth. The park, about 28 square kilometers in size, was established in 1957 and is rich in fauna and flora. Most people come here to admire koalas. We wanted to hike on the Wetland walk trail - passing Wagurdu Lake and Loch McNess. But unfortunately we had to turn back after 2/3 of the way. A bush fire had destroyed two bridges further ahead - was not indicated at the beginning of the trail...
On the 240 m long Koala Boardwalk you can observe the animals in a natural environment. They are busy either eating or lounging. The area for the koalas is a separate fenced part of the national park - so not quite "free range". But theoretically the animals could leave the area. The big gray kangaroos, which should also be in the park, we have unfortunately not seen - perhaps the wrong time of day.
In FREMANTLE directly at the sea south of Perth - which we already got to know well on a previous trip - there are free cat buses as well. A much visited "hangout" in this town is "Little Creative Brewery" with good pub food. You can also sit outside right on the water.
2023.03.24 12:18 RTB_RIPS Last time trying with these before heading to eBay. Send me some offers, worst thing I can do is say no.
 | submitted by RTB_RIPS to footballcards [link] [comments] |
2023.03.24 12:05 reagan92 Countdown to Kickoff 2023: Chicago Red Stars
2023 Kickoff Countdown – Chicago Red Stars
BACKGROUND INFORMATION
Head Coach: Chirs Petrucelli (2nd year)
Hired midway through preseason, he coached fairly conservatively…maintaining tactics through the season no matter the opponent or player availability. He’s shouty from the sidelines, but more in a positive soccer dork way than a “I will ruin your life” way like with Dames.
General Manager: Michelle Lomnicki (1st year)
Captain: Alyssa Naeher
NO TOUCHING.
Stadium: SeatGeek Stadium, Bridgetown, IL
Capacity of 20,000. Though sits roughly 12 miles from downtown Chicago, it might as well be 40 million miles away. In an odd piece of trivia, SeatGeek Stadium does not use SeatGeek as it’s ticket provider.
Ownership: Arnim Whistler
Despite being probably the single most important figure keeping domestic women’s soccer alive through the late WPS/early NWSL era, the league is desperately looking for a window to shove him out of. You might remember him from such reports as the Yates Report, and the Joint NWSL/NWSLPA Investigation.
Mascot: Supernova
The original bassist for Soundgarden, Supernova was introduced as the Red Stars mascot in 2014. According to Instagram, Supernova and Chicago Fire mascot Sparky are best friends.
Kits:
Primary Kit: Foundation
Secondary Kit: Skyscraper
Supporters Groups: Chicago Local 134
Subreddit: https://www.reddit.com/redstars/
News and Commentary: Chicago Sun Times
Red Stars Report
Key Twitter Follows for Team Insights:
Annie Costabile https://twitter.com/AnnieCostabile
Sandra Herrera https://twitter.com/SandHerrera_
Claire Watkins https://twitter.com/ScoutRiply
SCHEDULE
2023 Season Opener: Saturday, March 25 vs. San Diego – 10:00PM ET
2023 Home Opener: Sunday, April 1 vs. Houston – 2:00PM ET
HISTORY
Last year, they had a mini-exodus with 6 players moving westward, including ironwomen and defender of the year candidate Sarah Gorden. Picked somewhere in the middle of the pack of the league, they stayed in the middle of pack of the league all year, only spending 2 weeks out of a playoff spot, but never really threatening the iron of the NWSL. They lost Tierna Davidson and Kayla Sharples early to ACL tears, and Casey Krueger, Kealia Watt, and Sarah Woldmoe to pregnancies.
Chicago started the season quickly, not being defeated a 2nd time until mid-July, including a win over the eventual Shield winning Reign. Once that second loss locked in though, they went 4-1-6 down the stretch outlasting the Courage for that last playoff spot before bowing out in extra time to the Wave.
As stated by pretty much everyone, the driving force behind the successes of the team was Mallory Swanson. She scored 11 goals, assisted on 6 more, and was generally brilliant in what was essentially her come-back year into international prominence. But the midfield engine was driven in the middle by the now-departed pairing of Vanessa Dibernardo and Danielle Colaprico. In 2021, they both struggled with injury and staying on the field…something that wasn’t a problem in 2022. Dibernardo especially was impressive, as she went from a more attacking role to dropping back to help shield the backline with Colaprico, who is a more traditional defensive mid.
The outside backs kind of rotated a bit, with normal started Arin Wright trying to stay healthy. Rachel Hill dropped from the front line to cover on the left, and Bianca St George started on the right in a role that was as much attacking as defending. St George continued her affinity for drawing red cards with a frankly derivative performance of double birds, that was the game week after Amber Brooks performance.
Zoe Morse played well in a central defensive role before leaving for England this offseason. Milazzo came out of no where to become one of the most technically sound defenders in the league. I don’t know. I don’t like this team very much, and they can on occasion play attractive football. I guess. Who cares. They finished 6th.
Player Movement
ROSTER
Predicted Preferred Gameday XI – With the personnel Chicago have, I can’t imagine they are going to deviate much from the 3-4-3 they used last year.
Formation: 3-4-3
If you squint, you can see a 5-2-1-2. Or a 3-4-1-2. Or anything you want. Formations are fake. But last year before the injury bug tore through the ACLs of seemingly the entirety of Woso, Petrucelli’s stated plan was to put Tierna Davidson in the middle, with Milazzo on the left and Sharples on the left. Sharples is still on the SEI list, but Davidson is probably ready. Milazzo is coming off an all-2nd XI in the league in her 2nd year. Krueger comes back from pregnancy to fill out the backline, simply because she’s a way better defender than going forward, especially compared to St Georges.
When Sarah Woldmoe announced her retirement, Sammi Fisher and Jill Aguilera were the only two midfielders under contract…they’ve played a combined 939 minutes in their careers (for comparison’s sake, that’s less than fellow rookie Ava Cook played on her own by 4 minutes). To cover that, they made two defend-and-distribute moves, acquiring Julia Bianchi from Palmeiras, and picking up Sophie Jones in the draft. Those two should be able to hold it down while Roccaro plays in a freer role in the middle like she did last year for Angel City. The other mids on the roster can mix and match based on skills…you don’t want Addie McCain trying to lock down the middle, but she could replace Roccaro for a spell and not be hurt.
Chicago’s success this season is going to depend on the forwards, and even to that end, on Mallory Swanson. Though her impact on Red Stars last year was overblown (inasmuch as she didn’t bring a terrible roster kicking and screaming to the playoffs…she was a legit MVP candidate that had a lot of help from very good performances, especially from the backline and Dibernardo/Colaprico), she is their most important player, and one of the best players in the league. Even with the world cup year, she should already be penciled in as a top-5 MVP candidate. Yuki Nagasato can provide the service Swanson needs…since she can’t pass to herself, though last year she lost effectiveness as the year went on. Ella Stevens is the likely starter until Hocking is ready, providing the awkward finishing that teams of this calibre need to be successful. Last year during the Challenge Cup, Stevens tried to take a shot on goal, slipped, fell and twisted a bit, swinging her hand up striking the ball into the goal. Called off, but an impressive level of “baby dear learning how to walk” for a pro.
Likely Top Bench/Subs:
This is a thin roster. Very very thin.
Something to Prove
Cari Roccaro – Last year was her 7th year in the league, and she scored her first goal…and then 3 more. She just has to show that given some playing time and freedom, she is going to be able to help Chicago all year.
Julia Bianchi – This project in Chicago isn’t going to work if they don’t have a ball winner in the middle of the pitch, so she has to step in immediately and make an impact.
Ella Stevens – She’s one of those classic “could be out of the league just as easily as being a regular starter” players at this point. Though she seems effective when she plays, she doesn’t get as much playing time as expected.
Out for the season
Sharples is on the SEI list, but about 10 months out from her ACL tear, so she will likely be back.
2023 PREVIEW
Realistic Best Case Scenario – 5th-6th place
Pretty much everything has to go right. The ACL’s heal, the pregnancies bounce back, players that are healthy stay healthy…as well as the ones that are injury prone. The rookies integrate well. The Milazzo continues to develop, Yuki pushes back against father time a little bit. Love wins.
Realistic Worst Case Scenario – 12th
This is roster on the edge. However, Chicago currently has the longest playoff streak in the league, and in some years, that’s been confounding.
Realistic Most Probable Scenario – 9th-11th.
I just don’t have much confidence in a roster that is basically built as Mall Swanson, defense, and pray. I have a feeling I might be discounting Chicago prematurely, but I just don’t see how they can compete with this roster against teams that have more concentrated talent on it.
submitted by reagan92 to NWSL [link] [comments]
BACKGROUND INFORMATION
Head Coach: Chirs Petrucelli (2nd year)
Hired midway through preseason, he coached fairly conservatively…maintaining tactics through the season no matter the opponent or player availability. He’s shouty from the sidelines, but more in a positive soccer dork way than a “I will ruin your life” way like with Dames.
General Manager: Michelle Lomnicki (1st year)
Captain: Alyssa Naeher
NO TOUCHING.
Stadium: SeatGeek Stadium, Bridgetown, IL
Capacity of 20,000. Though sits roughly 12 miles from downtown Chicago, it might as well be 40 million miles away. In an odd piece of trivia, SeatGeek Stadium does not use SeatGeek as it’s ticket provider.
Ownership: Arnim Whistler
Despite being probably the single most important figure keeping domestic women’s soccer alive through the late WPS/early NWSL era, the league is desperately looking for a window to shove him out of. You might remember him from such reports as the Yates Report, and the Joint NWSL/NWSLPA Investigation.
Mascot: Supernova
The original bassist for Soundgarden, Supernova was introduced as the Red Stars mascot in 2014. According to Instagram, Supernova and Chicago Fire mascot Sparky are best friends.
Kits:
Primary Kit: Foundation
Secondary Kit: Skyscraper
Supporters Groups: Chicago Local 134
Subreddit: https://www.reddit.com/redstars/
News and Commentary: Chicago Sun Times
Red Stars Report
Key Twitter Follows for Team Insights:
Annie Costabile https://twitter.com/AnnieCostabile
Sandra Herrera https://twitter.com/SandHerrera_
Claire Watkins https://twitter.com/ScoutRiply
SCHEDULE
2023 Season Opener: Saturday, March 25 vs. San Diego – 10:00PM ET
2023 Home Opener: Sunday, April 1 vs. Houston – 2:00PM ET
HISTORY
- NWSL Championship: 0 (Runners up: 2019, 2021)
- NWSL Shield: Supporters’ Shield: 0 (Runners up: 2015, 2019)
- NWSL Challenge Cup: 0 (Runner up: 2020)
Last year, they had a mini-exodus with 6 players moving westward, including ironwomen and defender of the year candidate Sarah Gorden. Picked somewhere in the middle of the pack of the league, they stayed in the middle of pack of the league all year, only spending 2 weeks out of a playoff spot, but never really threatening the iron of the NWSL. They lost Tierna Davidson and Kayla Sharples early to ACL tears, and Casey Krueger, Kealia Watt, and Sarah Woldmoe to pregnancies.
Chicago started the season quickly, not being defeated a 2nd time until mid-July, including a win over the eventual Shield winning Reign. Once that second loss locked in though, they went 4-1-6 down the stretch outlasting the Courage for that last playoff spot before bowing out in extra time to the Wave.
As stated by pretty much everyone, the driving force behind the successes of the team was Mallory Swanson. She scored 11 goals, assisted on 6 more, and was generally brilliant in what was essentially her come-back year into international prominence. But the midfield engine was driven in the middle by the now-departed pairing of Vanessa Dibernardo and Danielle Colaprico. In 2021, they both struggled with injury and staying on the field…something that wasn’t a problem in 2022. Dibernardo especially was impressive, as she went from a more attacking role to dropping back to help shield the backline with Colaprico, who is a more traditional defensive mid.
The outside backs kind of rotated a bit, with normal started Arin Wright trying to stay healthy. Rachel Hill dropped from the front line to cover on the left, and Bianca St George started on the right in a role that was as much attacking as defending. St George continued her affinity for drawing red cards with a frankly derivative performance of double birds, that was the game week after Amber Brooks performance.
Zoe Morse played well in a central defensive role before leaving for England this offseason. Milazzo came out of no where to become one of the most technically sound defenders in the league. I don’t know. I don’t like this team very much, and they can on occasion play attractive football. I guess. Who cares. They finished 6th.
Player Movement
| Date | Player Out | Pos | New Club | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| October 31, 2022 | Chelsea Dawber | F | Adelaide United | Loan |
| November 15, 2022 | Channing Foster | M | SK Slavia Praha | Option declined |
| November 15, 2022 | Mikenna McManus | D | Throttur | Option declined |
| November 15, 2022 | Danielle Colaprico | M | San Diego Wave | Out of contract |
| November 15, 2022 | Vanessa DiBernardo | M | Kansas City Current | Out of contract |
| November 15, 2022 | Morgan Gautrat | M | Kansas City Current | Out of contract |
| November 15, 2022 | Rachel Hill | F | San Diego Wave | Out of contract |
| November 15, 2022 | Kealia Watt | F | Unattached | Out of contract |
| December 6, 2022 | Sarah Woldmoe | M | Unattached | Retired |
| December 14, 2022 | Sarah Luebbert | M | Club America | Transfer |
| January 8, 2023 | Zoe Morse | D | Brighton Hove & Albion | Out of contract |
| March 2, 2023 | Chelsea Dauber | F | IFK Norrköping | Recalled, and Loaned |
| Date | Player In | Pos | Previous Club | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| January 9, 2023 | Addie McCain | M | Kansas City Current | Free agent |
| January 9, 2023 | Jenna Bike | F | NJ/NY Gotham FC | Free agent |
| January 12, 2023 | Penelope Hocking | F | Penn St Nittany Lions | Draft |
| January 12, 2023 | Ally Schlegel | F | Penn St Nittany Lions | Draft |
| January 12, 2023 | Sophie Jones | M | Duke Blue Devils | Draft |
| January 25, 2023 | Julia Bianchi | M | Palmeiras | Transfer |
| January 12, 2023 | Cari Roccaro | M | Angel City | Trade |
| March 20, 2023 | Taylor Malham | M | Racing Louisville | Waivers |
| Number | First | Last | POS | Contract status |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 21 | Emily | Boyd | GK | Option exercised |
| 1 | Alyssa | Naeher | GK | Signed through 2023+ |
| 12 | Tierna | Davidson | D | Signed through 2023 |
| 31 | Amanda | Kowalski | D | Signed through 2024+ |
| 6 | Casey | Krueger | D | Signed through 2023 |
| 23 | Tatumn | Milazzo | D | Signed through 2024+ |
| 28 | Kayla | Sharples | D | Option exercised |
| 22 | Bianca | St. Georges | D | Option exercised |
| 3 | Arin | Wright | D | Signed through 2024 |
| 14 | Jill | Aquilera | M | Signed through 2023 |
| 5 | Julia | Bianchi | M | Signed through 2024 |
| 29 | Sami | Feller | M | NRI |
| 2 | Sammi | Fisher | M | Signed through 2023 |
| 16 | Sophie | Jones | M | Signed through 2024 |
| 32 | Taylor | Malham | M | Signed through 2023 |
| 13 | Addie | McCain | M | Signed through 2024+ |
| 4 | Cari | Roccaro | M | Signed through 2023 |
| 24 | Jenna | Bike | F | Signed through 2024+ |
| 25 | Ava | Cook | F | Signed through 2023 |
| 27 | Chelsie | Dawber | F | Signed through 2023+ |
| 15 | Sarah | Griffith | F | Signed through 2023 |
| 55 | Penelope | Hocking | F | Signed through 2025+ |
| 26 | Brenna | Lovera | F | NRI |
| 20 | Cheyna | Matthews | F | NRI |
| 7 | Yuki | Nagasato | F | Signed through 2023+ |
| 34 | Ally | Schlegal | F | Signed through 2025+ |
| 8 | Ella | Stevens | F | Option exercised |
| 9 | Mallory | Swanson | F | Signed through 2023 |
Formation: 3-4-3
If you squint, you can see a 5-2-1-2. Or a 3-4-1-2. Or anything you want. Formations are fake. But last year before the injury bug tore through the ACLs of seemingly the entirety of Woso, Petrucelli’s stated plan was to put Tierna Davidson in the middle, with Milazzo on the left and Sharples on the left. Sharples is still on the SEI list, but Davidson is probably ready. Milazzo is coming off an all-2nd XI in the league in her 2nd year. Krueger comes back from pregnancy to fill out the backline, simply because she’s a way better defender than going forward, especially compared to St Georges.
When Sarah Woldmoe announced her retirement, Sammi Fisher and Jill Aguilera were the only two midfielders under contract…they’ve played a combined 939 minutes in their careers (for comparison’s sake, that’s less than fellow rookie Ava Cook played on her own by 4 minutes). To cover that, they made two defend-and-distribute moves, acquiring Julia Bianchi from Palmeiras, and picking up Sophie Jones in the draft. Those two should be able to hold it down while Roccaro plays in a freer role in the middle like she did last year for Angel City. The other mids on the roster can mix and match based on skills…you don’t want Addie McCain trying to lock down the middle, but she could replace Roccaro for a spell and not be hurt.
Chicago’s success this season is going to depend on the forwards, and even to that end, on Mallory Swanson. Though her impact on Red Stars last year was overblown (inasmuch as she didn’t bring a terrible roster kicking and screaming to the playoffs…she was a legit MVP candidate that had a lot of help from very good performances, especially from the backline and Dibernardo/Colaprico), she is their most important player, and one of the best players in the league. Even with the world cup year, she should already be penciled in as a top-5 MVP candidate. Yuki Nagasato can provide the service Swanson needs…since she can’t pass to herself, though last year she lost effectiveness as the year went on. Ella Stevens is the likely starter until Hocking is ready, providing the awkward finishing that teams of this calibre need to be successful. Last year during the Challenge Cup, Stevens tried to take a shot on goal, slipped, fell and twisted a bit, swinging her hand up striking the ball into the goal. Called off, but an impressive level of “baby dear learning how to walk” for a pro.
Likely Top Bench/Subs:
| First | Last | Pos |
|---|---|---|
| Amanda | Kowalski | D |
| Sophie | Jones | M |
| Addie | McCain | M |
| Jenna | Bike | F |
| Penelope | Hocking | F |
| Ava | Cook | F |
Something to Prove
Cari Roccaro – Last year was her 7th year in the league, and she scored her first goal…and then 3 more. She just has to show that given some playing time and freedom, she is going to be able to help Chicago all year.
Julia Bianchi – This project in Chicago isn’t going to work if they don’t have a ball winner in the middle of the pitch, so she has to step in immediately and make an impact.
Ella Stevens – She’s one of those classic “could be out of the league just as easily as being a regular starter” players at this point. Though she seems effective when she plays, she doesn’t get as much playing time as expected.
Out for the season
Sharples is on the SEI list, but about 10 months out from her ACL tear, so she will likely be back.
2023 PREVIEW
Realistic Best Case Scenario – 5th-6th place
Pretty much everything has to go right. The ACL’s heal, the pregnancies bounce back, players that are healthy stay healthy…as well as the ones that are injury prone. The rookies integrate well. The Milazzo continues to develop, Yuki pushes back against father time a little bit. Love wins.
Realistic Worst Case Scenario – 12th
This is roster on the edge. However, Chicago currently has the longest playoff streak in the league, and in some years, that’s been confounding.
Realistic Most Probable Scenario – 9th-11th.
I just don’t have much confidence in a roster that is basically built as Mall Swanson, defense, and pray. I have a feeling I might be discounting Chicago prematurely, but I just don’t see how they can compete with this roster against teams that have more concentrated talent on it.
2023.03.24 11:46 ArtIntoArtemis My boyfriend went missing in Glacier National Park. I think I know what happened to him.
Stan and I met shortly after I moved to Seattle. We used to joke that we should make up some sort of meet-cute to explain the origins of our relationship because the truth was far less romantic and far more mundane. That is, we met on Tinder, as everyone seems to these days. To say we hit it off would be an understatement. He seemed like the perfect man for me. He loved dogs, just like I did. And music, and art. Of course, there were some things we didn’t agree on. He liked horror movies way more than me, for instance. And snakes. He tried to convince multiple times that we should get a snake - that was one I knew from the beginning I was never budging on. They just give me the creeps, you know?
Things like that felt like they just added depth to our relationship, though. We moved quickly - not overwhelmingly fast, but a bit quicker than I normally moved in relationships. It just really felt like he got me. I found myself spilling far more details about my ex than I had intended on ever sharing on our third date. I was half expecting him to run for the hills then. My ex wasn’t a very kind guy, if you get my drift. And crying on a third date is never sexy. He just reached out, took my hand, and told me we all go through dark stuff. I felt heard.
“And who hasn’t had a fucked up ex?” He asked, offering me a wry smile.
A few months later, we were moving in together. Things were perfect. At first, anyways. Even then, it was just small things, really. It wasn’t long before Stan sat me down to talk to me about how I kept forgetting to do my dishes, for example. I couldn’t help but feel a little defensive - that particular week, I’d worked double shifts two days in a row. I’d barely even had time to sleep, much less address the dishes. Still, I conceded. He wasn’t wrong, after all.
After that, I realized that my clothes were a bit too revealing, following Stan pointing it out. I still felt a little defensive, but he assured me he was just trying to look out for me. Since this was my first time out on my own. He had several years of experience on me on that matter, so I pushed down my pride and agreed. He was just trying to help, you know? Just like he was when he pointed out that my friends weren’t that great of an influence, and that going out on the weekends wasn’t really fair to him.
Besides things like that, our relationship was great, really. We had countless happy photos together - he was never shy about posting me. The long, romantic captions he’d post alone quelled any doubts I had about how much he cared about me. Silly, I know, but it felt nice that someone was proud to show me off.
For our one-year anniversary, Stan suggested we go on a trip. He said I could pick, so I suggested a national park I’d always wanted to see. Joshua Tree, to be specific. We both enjoyed camping, and the outdoors, so it seemed like a safe choice. When I suggested it, though, I saw his gaze darken.
“That was Emma’s favorite park,” he said. Emma was his ex. The fucked up one he’d alluded to on our third date. He didn’t talk about her much - I always got the impression that he didn’t want to think about that part of his life much. So, I didn’t ask. As such, I didn’t know much beyond how she was some sort of biologist, and apparently 50 shades of insane. They’d dated for a few years right after she’d graduated college, and then she’d went entirely off the rails.
“Nevermind,” I amended quickly. “What about Glacier National Park then? It’s supposed to be really pretty too, and it’s closer.”
His face relaxed, and he smiled. “That’s much better,” he agreed. “Glacier it is.”
I was really excited about our trip. I was taking a whole week off work, I poured god knows how many hours into planning. I wanted it to be perfect - to really show Stan how grateful I was that he’d managed to put up with me for a year. The trip grew steadily closer, and before I knew it, we were climbing into his car, the trunk full of camping gear and his dog, Penelope, panting happily. We lived about ten hours away from Glacier. Not horribly far, but definitely far enough to warrant the planning I’d put in. The road trip there was nice, for the most part, aside from how I forgot to remind Stan to fill up the gas tank.
That was a close call.
We left early in the morning - early enough that I thought it counted more as late at night, to be honest. By the time we were arriving at Glacier, the shadows were growing long, surrounded by gold. We’d have just enough time to set up our camp, I thought. We went to check in at the ranger station.
Stan did the talking, while I pet Penelope behind him. I listened in on the conversation. It was mostly park guidelines, typical stuff like that. Stan, of course, was also chatting with the ranger like they were old friends. He was always charismatic like that.
“We figured we’d head out here to celebrate, isn’t that right, dear?” Stan asked, turning to me. I nodded quickly.
“Yep! Can’t believe it’s been a year already,” I said. The ranger, a youngish man with dark blond hair tied back in a ponytail, looked past Stan to meet my gaze.
“That’s wonderful! Congratulations,” he said.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any recommendations for things to do, would you?” Stan asked, shifting his weight so he stood in front of me. I almost opened my mouth to say I already had things we could do planned out - I had for nearly two months. I decided against it. Stan had told me recently that I tended to come across as bossy and condescending, and I was trying to work on that. Instead, I turned my attention back to Penelope as the ranger went over some trails and interpretive programs.
Eventually, Stan shook his hand, and we headed to our campsite. “I was reading about some trails we could try,” I offered as we set up.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Stan said. “I’m sure he just gave us more in depth info than whatever research you read.”
“Right,” I mumbled. The first night there was peaceful. We built a campfire. At one point, Stan dropped Penelope’s leash. She ran over to the nearest campsite. Luckily, the couple there thought she was just as adorable as we did. Stan invited them over to join us around the campfire. I was a little disappointed - I had pictured getting up early to head out on the hikes he’d suggested I plan a few months ago, and it had already been a long day of travel. Still, plans change. The couple was incredibly friendly, on the bright side. The girl was named Marie, and the guy Michael. They had been traveling in their van for the past six months. “You know, I always thought van life sounded like it would be amazing. Of course, we have her holding us down,” Stan said, laughing towards me.
“It was hard enough to get away from work this week,” I agreed, playing along.
“Well, a week out here is better than nothing,” Marie offered. The next day, we headed out on one of the hikes Stan had chosen, getting up a bit later as I had guessed would happen. It was pretty, I’ll admit, and I was beginning to feel silly for being so controlling over what we did. When we returned to camp that night, we had dinner at the nearby restaurant, and things felt like they were going nicely. This was the longest we’d gone in weeks without some sort of argument or me messing something up. After dinner, we stopped by the visitor center to buy some more firewood. When we returned, Marie and Michael came over again. Not to chat, though. This time, they had a question for us. Or more, for Stan. Michael tried to keep his voice down as he asked Stan if he’d heard anything strange last night, as Marie had been spooked by something. I surmised they were trying to not scare me as well, though I thought that was rather silly. We were in the woods, after all. It seemed like weird noises were to be expected.
Stan and I climbed into our tent that night, and sleep took us both quickly. It didn’t keep its grasp, though, at least not on me. I was awoken at some point in the night by something outside our tent. My first thought was that it was another camper, on the way to the bathroom and wandering off the path in the darkness. As I continued to listen, though, slow, steady noise suggested otherwise. It almost sounded like whoever - or whatever - was out there was circling the tent. I say whatever because it didn’t fully sound like footsteps. Instead, it almost sounded like something sliding. Scraping along the forest floor. I felt a chill run down my spine. I looked over to Stan. He was still fast asleep. I swallowed. The last thing I wanted to do was wake him up, especially if it turned out to be something as silly as a deer. Trying to steady my racing breath, I decided to instead turn my attention back to the noise outside. I attempted to reason with myself as I strained to listen.
We were in a well-populated, official campground - surely whatever was out there couldn't be that dangerous. Animals came into the campgrounds, I knew that, but it seemed like the odds of being attacked by some wild animal less than fifty feet from a ranger station had to be close to zero. Whatever was out there continued to circle the tent - I was sure that was what it was doing, now. I heard Penelope begin to whine - she’d evidently been awoken as well. I looked over at her, trying to make out her small shape in the darkness. I wanted to call her over to me, away from the entrance of the tent. I knew that if whatever was out there was dangerous, a few extra feet between her and it wouldn’t do much good. I didn’t dare call out anyways, too scared of alerting whatever was out there to our presence.
As I continued to listen, I heard the strange sliding noise stop. It sounded like it was right behind the tent. Right above Stan and I. I almost screamed as a low hiss reached my ears. That was enough for Penelope, evidently, as she collapsed into a fit of panicked barks. It seemed like a spell had been broken with her first bark. Stan shot up, and immediately demanded to know what was going on, as Penelope tried to claw her way out of the tent. There was a loud crash outside, then silence.
“What the fuck is going on?” Stan demanded, anger overriding any remaining sleepiness. I tried to recount what had just happened to him. The scraping noise, the circling, the hiss. I was barely halfway through explaining when he rolled his eyes.
“It was probably just a deer,” he said.
“A deer? It hissed!” I said, forgetting myself in fear of whatever had been out there.
“Deer make weird noises! God, I get the dog freaking out, but you?” Stan asked.
“I’m not freaking out,” I said. “There was something out there. Michael said Marie heard something too-“
“Marie probably also heard a deer. Jesus Christ, I didn’t know I was going on a camping trip with a twelve year old.” Stan said. I felt tears pricking my eyes. Things had just been going so well. Finally.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I just got freaked out, you’re right. It was silly.”
submitted by ArtIntoArtemis to nosleep [link] [comments]
Things like that felt like they just added depth to our relationship, though. We moved quickly - not overwhelmingly fast, but a bit quicker than I normally moved in relationships. It just really felt like he got me. I found myself spilling far more details about my ex than I had intended on ever sharing on our third date. I was half expecting him to run for the hills then. My ex wasn’t a very kind guy, if you get my drift. And crying on a third date is never sexy. He just reached out, took my hand, and told me we all go through dark stuff. I felt heard.
“And who hasn’t had a fucked up ex?” He asked, offering me a wry smile.
A few months later, we were moving in together. Things were perfect. At first, anyways. Even then, it was just small things, really. It wasn’t long before Stan sat me down to talk to me about how I kept forgetting to do my dishes, for example. I couldn’t help but feel a little defensive - that particular week, I’d worked double shifts two days in a row. I’d barely even had time to sleep, much less address the dishes. Still, I conceded. He wasn’t wrong, after all.
After that, I realized that my clothes were a bit too revealing, following Stan pointing it out. I still felt a little defensive, but he assured me he was just trying to look out for me. Since this was my first time out on my own. He had several years of experience on me on that matter, so I pushed down my pride and agreed. He was just trying to help, you know? Just like he was when he pointed out that my friends weren’t that great of an influence, and that going out on the weekends wasn’t really fair to him.
Besides things like that, our relationship was great, really. We had countless happy photos together - he was never shy about posting me. The long, romantic captions he’d post alone quelled any doubts I had about how much he cared about me. Silly, I know, but it felt nice that someone was proud to show me off.
For our one-year anniversary, Stan suggested we go on a trip. He said I could pick, so I suggested a national park I’d always wanted to see. Joshua Tree, to be specific. We both enjoyed camping, and the outdoors, so it seemed like a safe choice. When I suggested it, though, I saw his gaze darken.
“That was Emma’s favorite park,” he said. Emma was his ex. The fucked up one he’d alluded to on our third date. He didn’t talk about her much - I always got the impression that he didn’t want to think about that part of his life much. So, I didn’t ask. As such, I didn’t know much beyond how she was some sort of biologist, and apparently 50 shades of insane. They’d dated for a few years right after she’d graduated college, and then she’d went entirely off the rails.
“Nevermind,” I amended quickly. “What about Glacier National Park then? It’s supposed to be really pretty too, and it’s closer.”
His face relaxed, and he smiled. “That’s much better,” he agreed. “Glacier it is.”
I was really excited about our trip. I was taking a whole week off work, I poured god knows how many hours into planning. I wanted it to be perfect - to really show Stan how grateful I was that he’d managed to put up with me for a year. The trip grew steadily closer, and before I knew it, we were climbing into his car, the trunk full of camping gear and his dog, Penelope, panting happily. We lived about ten hours away from Glacier. Not horribly far, but definitely far enough to warrant the planning I’d put in. The road trip there was nice, for the most part, aside from how I forgot to remind Stan to fill up the gas tank.
That was a close call.
We left early in the morning - early enough that I thought it counted more as late at night, to be honest. By the time we were arriving at Glacier, the shadows were growing long, surrounded by gold. We’d have just enough time to set up our camp, I thought. We went to check in at the ranger station.
Stan did the talking, while I pet Penelope behind him. I listened in on the conversation. It was mostly park guidelines, typical stuff like that. Stan, of course, was also chatting with the ranger like they were old friends. He was always charismatic like that.
“We figured we’d head out here to celebrate, isn’t that right, dear?” Stan asked, turning to me. I nodded quickly.
“Yep! Can’t believe it’s been a year already,” I said. The ranger, a youngish man with dark blond hair tied back in a ponytail, looked past Stan to meet my gaze.
“That’s wonderful! Congratulations,” he said.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any recommendations for things to do, would you?” Stan asked, shifting his weight so he stood in front of me. I almost opened my mouth to say I already had things we could do planned out - I had for nearly two months. I decided against it. Stan had told me recently that I tended to come across as bossy and condescending, and I was trying to work on that. Instead, I turned my attention back to Penelope as the ranger went over some trails and interpretive programs.
Eventually, Stan shook his hand, and we headed to our campsite. “I was reading about some trails we could try,” I offered as we set up.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Stan said. “I’m sure he just gave us more in depth info than whatever research you read.”
“Right,” I mumbled. The first night there was peaceful. We built a campfire. At one point, Stan dropped Penelope’s leash. She ran over to the nearest campsite. Luckily, the couple there thought she was just as adorable as we did. Stan invited them over to join us around the campfire. I was a little disappointed - I had pictured getting up early to head out on the hikes he’d suggested I plan a few months ago, and it had already been a long day of travel. Still, plans change. The couple was incredibly friendly, on the bright side. The girl was named Marie, and the guy Michael. They had been traveling in their van for the past six months. “You know, I always thought van life sounded like it would be amazing. Of course, we have her holding us down,” Stan said, laughing towards me.
“It was hard enough to get away from work this week,” I agreed, playing along.
“Well, a week out here is better than nothing,” Marie offered. The next day, we headed out on one of the hikes Stan had chosen, getting up a bit later as I had guessed would happen. It was pretty, I’ll admit, and I was beginning to feel silly for being so controlling over what we did. When we returned to camp that night, we had dinner at the nearby restaurant, and things felt like they were going nicely. This was the longest we’d gone in weeks without some sort of argument or me messing something up. After dinner, we stopped by the visitor center to buy some more firewood. When we returned, Marie and Michael came over again. Not to chat, though. This time, they had a question for us. Or more, for Stan. Michael tried to keep his voice down as he asked Stan if he’d heard anything strange last night, as Marie had been spooked by something. I surmised they were trying to not scare me as well, though I thought that was rather silly. We were in the woods, after all. It seemed like weird noises were to be expected.
Stan and I climbed into our tent that night, and sleep took us both quickly. It didn’t keep its grasp, though, at least not on me. I was awoken at some point in the night by something outside our tent. My first thought was that it was another camper, on the way to the bathroom and wandering off the path in the darkness. As I continued to listen, though, slow, steady noise suggested otherwise. It almost sounded like whoever - or whatever - was out there was circling the tent. I say whatever because it didn’t fully sound like footsteps. Instead, it almost sounded like something sliding. Scraping along the forest floor. I felt a chill run down my spine. I looked over to Stan. He was still fast asleep. I swallowed. The last thing I wanted to do was wake him up, especially if it turned out to be something as silly as a deer. Trying to steady my racing breath, I decided to instead turn my attention back to the noise outside. I attempted to reason with myself as I strained to listen.
We were in a well-populated, official campground - surely whatever was out there couldn't be that dangerous. Animals came into the campgrounds, I knew that, but it seemed like the odds of being attacked by some wild animal less than fifty feet from a ranger station had to be close to zero. Whatever was out there continued to circle the tent - I was sure that was what it was doing, now. I heard Penelope begin to whine - she’d evidently been awoken as well. I looked over at her, trying to make out her small shape in the darkness. I wanted to call her over to me, away from the entrance of the tent. I knew that if whatever was out there was dangerous, a few extra feet between her and it wouldn’t do much good. I didn’t dare call out anyways, too scared of alerting whatever was out there to our presence.
As I continued to listen, I heard the strange sliding noise stop. It sounded like it was right behind the tent. Right above Stan and I. I almost screamed as a low hiss reached my ears. That was enough for Penelope, evidently, as she collapsed into a fit of panicked barks. It seemed like a spell had been broken with her first bark. Stan shot up, and immediately demanded to know what was going on, as Penelope tried to claw her way out of the tent. There was a loud crash outside, then silence.
“What the fuck is going on?” Stan demanded, anger overriding any remaining sleepiness. I tried to recount what had just happened to him. The scraping noise, the circling, the hiss. I was barely halfway through explaining when he rolled his eyes.
“It was probably just a deer,” he said.
“A deer? It hissed!” I said, forgetting myself in fear of whatever had been out there.
“Deer make weird noises! God, I get the dog freaking out, but you?” Stan asked.
“I’m not freaking out,” I said. “There was something out there. Michael said Marie heard something too-“
“Marie probably also heard a deer. Jesus Christ, I didn’t know I was going on a camping trip with a twelve year old.” Stan said. I felt tears pricking my eyes. Things had just been going so well. Finally.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I just got freaked out, you’re right. It was silly.”
2023.03.24 11:32 thecheeseking9 Blackrock Drive Yards 0.9.1a Cruiser ship tier list, by thecheeseking9
This tier list is made to attempt to rank the cruiser ships included in the Blackrock Drive Yards mod by Cycerin. It is heavily based on and inspired by the many great tier list of the base game made by user Grevious69, who was inspired by the tier lists made by user PureLSD. This list will follow largely follow the format of the tier lists by Grevious69 where I will include 2 ranks (first rank being in AI control, second rank in the player’s control) if there is a significant performance difference in rank between an AI piloted VS a player piloted. If either person of the tier list feel that this list should be removed or changes made, please inform me to do so.
Antaeus: B+
One of the few fleet anchors and tanks of Blackrock, the Antaeus is quite similar with the Dominator, though is much more focused on defense and being a fleet anchor instead of dealing damage., It has a large amount of built in PD weapons, the Pinlight Defense Laser, letting it perform as a fleet anchor better. Further emphasizing its defensive nature, the Antaeus has the GAIA Weapon Integration System hullmod built in, which increases weapon durability by 80%, increase accuracy and tracking speed of turrets by 25% letting them track down missiles and fighters better, and increase range of all non-beam weapons by 100. It also increases the OP cost of beam weapons by 1 so you probably want to use weapons such as ballistics instead. The Antaeus is still capable of functioning similarly as a Dominator with its respectable weapons and Charged Burst jet’s ability, which propels the ship forward after a short charge up, letting it chase down targets and spearhead a charge for the fleet. Overall, the Antaeus is a good fleet anchor and Blackrock is quite lacking in them though if higher firepower and durability is what you’re looking for, you might prefer the Dominator.
Asura: B- / A
A fast cruiser, its very similar to an Aurora. Unlike the Aurora, the Asura is capable of equipping some efficient small ballistics as well which helps it a little. Most importantly, it has a built-in weapon, the Vajra Cannon, which is essentially a rapid-fire Heavy Blaster. This sounds amazing and horrible at the same time since the Heavy Blaster is notorious for demolishing both armour and shields as well as demolishing the firing ship’s flux but the Asura has a special trick to not kill itself while firing, its Reactor Overtime ability. When activated, for a short duration it reduces the flux costs and increases fire rate of energy weapons as well as increase the Asura’s speed and mobility. At the end of the ability’s duration, the Asura gains a large amount of flux dissipation for a short duration, helping it not overload after doing its burst damage. Overall, compared to the Aurora, the Asura relies less on missiles and instead is capable of some efficient ballistics and uses the Vajra Cannon to do monstrous damage in the short time frame of its ability. Unfortunately, the Asura still suffers a lot from the same issues as the Aurora, its somewhat costly to maintain, costs 30 DP to deploy, 25% CR is consumed and the AI is a turnip head in using it, often overfluxing itself and dying. I really want to kick the Asura down to C alongside the Aurora for AI usage since it costs so much and the AI is incapable of using it, but I can’t ignore the sheer firepower of it I suppose. If you’re not going to personally pilot this monster, look elsewhere.
Convergence: C+
On the surface for the price of 22 DP, the Convergence isn’t too bad. 3 flight bays, 1 medium missile, 1 medium universal letting it be quite a good dedicated carrier with missile support or protect itself. The Convergence has the Bulwark Drone ability which deploys a single fighter that stays near the Convergence. The drone is equipped with some PD weapons though it’s not that effective at PD on its own. It’s also equipped with a Particle Lance which can help scare away some frigates. Logistically, it has some alright cargo space and fuel capacity letting it double as a freighter and tanker. On the downsides, it’s a little slow and doesn’t have the speed of the Heron or the durability of the Mora. Overall think the Heron is still better with its Targeting Feed but an additional medium universal at 2 more DP isn’t absolutely horrible. So, what’s the problem with the Convergence? Burn level 7 on a cruiser is the problem. Thankfully, it’s not hard to fix as long as you equip the Blackrock exclusive hullmod BRDY Driver Conversion or even Augmented Drive Field if you want to use it in cruiser burn level fleets though this does cost quite a bit of OP. If the hullmod didn’t exist or you don’t have access to it or Augmented Drive Field, I would kick this thing down to D unless you were using it in slow, capital fleets.
Hawkmoth: B-
The Hawkmoth is a combat tanker that is decently durable and armed though it’s no warship but it’s alright against most destroyers. Has the Arc Jet Burner ability which functions similarly as Burn Drive though you can slightly turn the ship though unlike Burn Drive it cannot be cancelled so you better hope the Hawkmoth survives the journey though the Hawkmoth should have enough PD to do so usually. It also has a burn level of 9 so it can function as a poor man’s fleet anchor for destroyer level fleets which is probably the best use of it and is mainly the reason it gets the rank it does, otherwise for any other fleets it’s a C+ at best.
Knight: B+ / A-
A combat carrier with 2 flight bays, the Knight is a decent combatant that has a large amount of small hybrid mounts as well as missiles. Its speed is nothing exceptional though can gain a large burst of temporary speed and manuverability through its ability, Heavy Manuvering Jet. This lets it function as somewhat of a combination of a more aggressive Heron and a Falcon (P) with its many weapon and missile mounts. Not as efficient for fighters as a Heron or fast as a Falcon (P) though the Knight’s modest flight bays and decent combat capabilities alongside good missile firepower is pretty nice to have.
Nevermore: B- / A-
The designers must have thought what if we combined an Asura/Aurora with a line ship like an Eagle when they were making the Nevermore. Like the Asura, the Nevermore is quite fast and can further increase its speed and manuverability with the Burst Jets ability, letting it charge in or retreat and has the Resistance Flux Conduits hullmod built in, helping it quickly vent and get back into the fight. It also has a built-in weapon, Antimatter Lance. The Antimatter Lance is an energy weapon that has low fire rate and but excellent damage and good efficiency, think energy Hellbore Cannon. This gives the Nevermore a pretty damn strong weapon capable of annihilating armour with good timing or overload shields. The Nevermore also has decent weapon mounts including several medium hybrid turrets, letting it equip efficient ballistics to brawl. Sounds alright so far, an Asura that can function as a competent line ship, so what’s my problem with it? It costs 35 fucking DP to deploy, almost as much as a capital ship. It also consumes 25% CR for each deployment and has a built in hullmod that doubles its sensor profile. It can be argued that the Nevermore is really a capital in cruiser form but its no where near as durable or strong as most capitals and if you wanted a fast cruiser with high burst damage, the Asura and Aurora are cheaper to deploy. The DP costs alone makes me want to kick it down in ranks for both AI and player but again I can’t just ignore the firepower. Just stick to cheaper ships if you need a line ship especially for AI, if you pilot fast and aggressive ships the Nevermore is there I suppose but personally would rather use an Aurora or Asura.
Nevermore 0-Series: B- / A-
The 0-Series Nevermore leans in more to the line ship aspect of the original. It has 2 more medium ballistic turrets up front and replaces the Antimatter Lance with the Raze Cannon. The Raze does HE damage, has slightly negative effeciency and far less damage so it’s mainly an anti-armour weapon. It also does good EMP damage and fires much faster, making it easier to actually hit armour. The 0-Series Nevermore also costs only uses up 15% CR for each deployment and doesn’t alert half the sector as it does not have the same hullmod that doubles its sensor profile unlike the standard variant though it does lose the built in Resistant Flux Conduits hullmod. It’s still overpriced for what it is but AI is better with it than the original variant I suppose though the player may prefer the Antimatter Lance of the original variant as they can time it better.
Steno: B-
An exploration vessel most similar to the Apogee. Instead of a large energy mount, it has a large hybrid turret letting it equip large ballistics as well. It also exchanges both small energy hardpoints with universal hardpoints, letting it have front facing missiles or efficient ballistics. It does lose a large missile and small missile in exchange for a front facing medium universal mount. This generally means the Steno is capable of using the more efficient ballistics and dumb-fire missiles though the loss of the large guided missile hurts a lot. It also has 1 flight bay with a built-in fighter, the Neutrocyte AEX Drone. The Neutrocyte function similarly as Broadswords though instead of Kinetic damage, they are capable of doing decent damage to armor and hull. All of this comes at a cost of 25 DP to deploy compared to the Apogee’s 18 DP. It should function well enough against weaker enemies such as Pirates when doing deep space exploration but against tougher opponents, it’s probably more efficient to spend that DP on dedicated warships.
submitted by thecheeseking9 to starsector [link] [comments]
Antaeus: B+
One of the few fleet anchors and tanks of Blackrock, the Antaeus is quite similar with the Dominator, though is much more focused on defense and being a fleet anchor instead of dealing damage., It has a large amount of built in PD weapons, the Pinlight Defense Laser, letting it perform as a fleet anchor better. Further emphasizing its defensive nature, the Antaeus has the GAIA Weapon Integration System hullmod built in, which increases weapon durability by 80%, increase accuracy and tracking speed of turrets by 25% letting them track down missiles and fighters better, and increase range of all non-beam weapons by 100. It also increases the OP cost of beam weapons by 1 so you probably want to use weapons such as ballistics instead. The Antaeus is still capable of functioning similarly as a Dominator with its respectable weapons and Charged Burst jet’s ability, which propels the ship forward after a short charge up, letting it chase down targets and spearhead a charge for the fleet. Overall, the Antaeus is a good fleet anchor and Blackrock is quite lacking in them though if higher firepower and durability is what you’re looking for, you might prefer the Dominator.
Asura: B- / A
A fast cruiser, its very similar to an Aurora. Unlike the Aurora, the Asura is capable of equipping some efficient small ballistics as well which helps it a little. Most importantly, it has a built-in weapon, the Vajra Cannon, which is essentially a rapid-fire Heavy Blaster. This sounds amazing and horrible at the same time since the Heavy Blaster is notorious for demolishing both armour and shields as well as demolishing the firing ship’s flux but the Asura has a special trick to not kill itself while firing, its Reactor Overtime ability. When activated, for a short duration it reduces the flux costs and increases fire rate of energy weapons as well as increase the Asura’s speed and mobility. At the end of the ability’s duration, the Asura gains a large amount of flux dissipation for a short duration, helping it not overload after doing its burst damage. Overall, compared to the Aurora, the Asura relies less on missiles and instead is capable of some efficient ballistics and uses the Vajra Cannon to do monstrous damage in the short time frame of its ability. Unfortunately, the Asura still suffers a lot from the same issues as the Aurora, its somewhat costly to maintain, costs 30 DP to deploy, 25% CR is consumed and the AI is a turnip head in using it, often overfluxing itself and dying. I really want to kick the Asura down to C alongside the Aurora for AI usage since it costs so much and the AI is incapable of using it, but I can’t ignore the sheer firepower of it I suppose. If you’re not going to personally pilot this monster, look elsewhere.
Convergence: C+
On the surface for the price of 22 DP, the Convergence isn’t too bad. 3 flight bays, 1 medium missile, 1 medium universal letting it be quite a good dedicated carrier with missile support or protect itself. The Convergence has the Bulwark Drone ability which deploys a single fighter that stays near the Convergence. The drone is equipped with some PD weapons though it’s not that effective at PD on its own. It’s also equipped with a Particle Lance which can help scare away some frigates. Logistically, it has some alright cargo space and fuel capacity letting it double as a freighter and tanker. On the downsides, it’s a little slow and doesn’t have the speed of the Heron or the durability of the Mora. Overall think the Heron is still better with its Targeting Feed but an additional medium universal at 2 more DP isn’t absolutely horrible. So, what’s the problem with the Convergence? Burn level 7 on a cruiser is the problem. Thankfully, it’s not hard to fix as long as you equip the Blackrock exclusive hullmod BRDY Driver Conversion or even Augmented Drive Field if you want to use it in cruiser burn level fleets though this does cost quite a bit of OP. If the hullmod didn’t exist or you don’t have access to it or Augmented Drive Field, I would kick this thing down to D unless you were using it in slow, capital fleets.
Hawkmoth: B-
The Hawkmoth is a combat tanker that is decently durable and armed though it’s no warship but it’s alright against most destroyers. Has the Arc Jet Burner ability which functions similarly as Burn Drive though you can slightly turn the ship though unlike Burn Drive it cannot be cancelled so you better hope the Hawkmoth survives the journey though the Hawkmoth should have enough PD to do so usually. It also has a burn level of 9 so it can function as a poor man’s fleet anchor for destroyer level fleets which is probably the best use of it and is mainly the reason it gets the rank it does, otherwise for any other fleets it’s a C+ at best.
Knight: B+ / A-
A combat carrier with 2 flight bays, the Knight is a decent combatant that has a large amount of small hybrid mounts as well as missiles. Its speed is nothing exceptional though can gain a large burst of temporary speed and manuverability through its ability, Heavy Manuvering Jet. This lets it function as somewhat of a combination of a more aggressive Heron and a Falcon (P) with its many weapon and missile mounts. Not as efficient for fighters as a Heron or fast as a Falcon (P) though the Knight’s modest flight bays and decent combat capabilities alongside good missile firepower is pretty nice to have.
Nevermore: B- / A-
The designers must have thought what if we combined an Asura/Aurora with a line ship like an Eagle when they were making the Nevermore. Like the Asura, the Nevermore is quite fast and can further increase its speed and manuverability with the Burst Jets ability, letting it charge in or retreat and has the Resistance Flux Conduits hullmod built in, helping it quickly vent and get back into the fight. It also has a built-in weapon, Antimatter Lance. The Antimatter Lance is an energy weapon that has low fire rate and but excellent damage and good efficiency, think energy Hellbore Cannon. This gives the Nevermore a pretty damn strong weapon capable of annihilating armour with good timing or overload shields. The Nevermore also has decent weapon mounts including several medium hybrid turrets, letting it equip efficient ballistics to brawl. Sounds alright so far, an Asura that can function as a competent line ship, so what’s my problem with it? It costs 35 fucking DP to deploy, almost as much as a capital ship. It also consumes 25% CR for each deployment and has a built in hullmod that doubles its sensor profile. It can be argued that the Nevermore is really a capital in cruiser form but its no where near as durable or strong as most capitals and if you wanted a fast cruiser with high burst damage, the Asura and Aurora are cheaper to deploy. The DP costs alone makes me want to kick it down in ranks for both AI and player but again I can’t just ignore the firepower. Just stick to cheaper ships if you need a line ship especially for AI, if you pilot fast and aggressive ships the Nevermore is there I suppose but personally would rather use an Aurora or Asura.
Nevermore 0-Series: B- / A-
The 0-Series Nevermore leans in more to the line ship aspect of the original. It has 2 more medium ballistic turrets up front and replaces the Antimatter Lance with the Raze Cannon. The Raze does HE damage, has slightly negative effeciency and far less damage so it’s mainly an anti-armour weapon. It also does good EMP damage and fires much faster, making it easier to actually hit armour. The 0-Series Nevermore also costs only uses up 15% CR for each deployment and doesn’t alert half the sector as it does not have the same hullmod that doubles its sensor profile unlike the standard variant though it does lose the built in Resistant Flux Conduits hullmod. It’s still overpriced for what it is but AI is better with it than the original variant I suppose though the player may prefer the Antimatter Lance of the original variant as they can time it better.
Steno: B-
An exploration vessel most similar to the Apogee. Instead of a large energy mount, it has a large hybrid turret letting it equip large ballistics as well. It also exchanges both small energy hardpoints with universal hardpoints, letting it have front facing missiles or efficient ballistics. It does lose a large missile and small missile in exchange for a front facing medium universal mount. This generally means the Steno is capable of using the more efficient ballistics and dumb-fire missiles though the loss of the large guided missile hurts a lot. It also has 1 flight bay with a built-in fighter, the Neutrocyte AEX Drone. The Neutrocyte function similarly as Broadswords though instead of Kinetic damage, they are capable of doing decent damage to armor and hull. All of this comes at a cost of 25 DP to deploy compared to the Apogee’s 18 DP. It should function well enough against weaker enemies such as Pirates when doing deep space exploration but against tougher opponents, it’s probably more efficient to spend that DP on dedicated warships.
- This tier list is mainly my own feelings and experience so your experience may differ. Feel free to critique and share your thoughts on the tier list.
2023.03.24 11:24 House_of_Suns /r/QOTSA Official Band of the Week 12: LED ZEPPELIN
Ah, the late 60s. Music was on Vinyl. Wild packs of hippies roamed the countryside. The smells of pot and sweat pervaded the air at every gathering. People were in physical confrontations with an oppressive and out of touch government led by a divisive and criminally implicated right-wing President. Racial tensions ran high. Students were shot. Police were accused of fascism and brutality. Protests rocked the land. Cultural upheaval was affecting virtually every aspect of daily life, challenging norms and conventions that had been in place for decades.
Sounds kinda familiar, doesn’t it?
We know that turbulent times in society produce amazing music.
This truly was a time when Titans walked the Earth. Primordial rock and roll artists were overthrown and consumed in this band’s wake. Led Zeppelin did not merely arise in a fertile and creative era; they quite literally defined music for generations. They gave birth to hard rock and heavy metal. Fully 50 years of rock musicians follow the paths that this band hacked out of the wilderness. True trailblazers. Legends. Few, if any, are on their level. Their cultural impact cannot be overstated.
Let us take some time to recognize them before Zeus overthrows their rule, and before Ragnarok raptures them all up into the final Battle with Buddha, Odin, Mohammed and Vishnu to climb Yggdrasil and rule forever in Valhalla. Also, just so I’ve offended everyone equally, Shinto Agnostic Atheist Jewish Jesus the Shaman and his buddy and Sikh Spiritualist Jainist Falun-Gong Zarathushtra will also be there, along with all of their Mormon followers. They, alongside our musical heroes, will beat the crap out of Tom Cruise and his Scientologist nutjob friends.
That’s right: this week’s featured Band is LED ZEPPELIN.
About Them
What can anyone say about Loop Zoop?
Every single member of the band rolled a natural 20 for musical talent. Robert Plant oozed sheer charisma and sex appeal. John Bonham maxed out the strength stat and literally invented what it meant to be a rock/metal drummer. John Paul Jones is the embodiment of wisdom, as he defined the rock bass groove. And literally generations of kids that get guitars at Christmas try to play Stairway to Heaven with the same dexterity and agility that came naturally to Jimmy Page. And as with every story of heroes, their origins are shrouded in mystery. Reputedly, they were seduced and recruited from the suburbs by a sketchy traveling fireworks artist so that they could engage in the illegal cross border smuggling of stolen goods. Before being imprisoned himself, this bearded grey-clad vagabond forced our heroes to hang out with an incredibly violent and aggressive midget. This midget was b-f-fs with an emo dude with body mods, an obscure and nebulous vigilante, and a guy with more daddy issues than your average prostitute. When the midget, the emo, the vigilante and Fortunate Son got into a brawl, the band got the hell out of dodge. Two of them went to hang out with an escaped murderer and the other two did some aggressive gardening. Birds were also involved or something, IDK.
Wait. Shit. I think that’s Lord of the Rings. At least, that's not the right story, but it does have a familiar ring to it.
Where was I? Oh right. Led Zeppelin truly did have humble beginnings.
In 1966, session guitarist Jimmy Page was asked to join a band named the Yardbirds (and on bass of all things). Seeing as bass is just guitar on easy mode, he soon graduated to the position of lead guitarist.
However, he was on a sinkingblimp ship. The Yardbirds were tired from touring and recording, and after the departure of their other lead guitarist (clearly in despair), Page’s mind turned towards new horizons. He originally wanted to form a supergroup consisting of himself, Keith Moon, John Entwistle (both from another “little known” band called The Who), and former Yardbirds guitarist Jeff Beck. Instead, with the help of Yardbird’s bassist Chris Dreja, Page ended up assembling the Avengers of rock and roll.
Page’s first choice for singer was actually session musician Terry Reid. Reid, however, ended up being busy with some no-name bands called “Rolling Rock” or “Gather no Moss” or “The Rolling Stones” or something (IDK, I’m not a Midnight Rambler) and also “Cream” or “low fat dairy creamer” or “alternative, lactose-free cream substitute” or whatever, some milk product. With apologies, Reid suggested Band of Joy singer Robert Plant should take his place.
This turned out to be a pretty good choice, and it came with a hidden benefit. Plant brought along a plus one - Mr. John Bonham, who had been drumming for the Band of Joy at the time. Oh yeah, it's all coming together now. The final member of our all star squad came when Chris Dreja decided to jump ship and become a photographer (he just couldn't picture himself staying in the band!). This was clearly a good move, as it’s not like these guys were going anywhere. Anyway, with his departure, an interested musician by the name of John Paul Jones asked if he could fill in. Page knew Jones as a session musician and Yardbirds performer, and was happy to let him join the band.
The “New Yardbirds” were complete. The Infinity Gauntlet of rock and roll was assembled. And after a stint of concerts through Scandinavia, they earned their first major accolade: a cease and desist letter.
That’s right. World renowned photographer Chris Dreja was back, and not so happy about Page's use of the word “Yardbirds” in this new band’s name. And so, they were forced to swap.
One story accounts that, when asked about the possibility of a supergroup, Keith Moon and John Entwistle said that they’d go down like a “lead balloon.”
It was perfect. Everyone today knows the many popular songs by “Lead Balloon”, like “Emigrant Tune”, “Decent days, Shite days”, and “In the Afternoon”. Okay, okay you get it -- the name was almost there, but not quite.
They dropped the “a” in “lead” to make sure it could never be mispronounced as “leed”. And of course, they swapped the all-too-cool “balloon” for “Zeppelin”. The band was born, and ready for the world.
You already know their music; it's iconic, it’s groundbreaking, it’s timeless. From the start, they made themselves known as talented musicians, here to cut their own path and break the mold. They drew from all kinds of sources, happy to flaunt their influences and combine them into a new form of music. These guys meant business, and hit the ground running.
Their sound was absolutely unlike anything else. From the first powerful chords of Good Times, Bad Times through the asymmetrical and psychedelic sounds of Dazed and Confused, to the frantic electricity of Communication Breakdown, Led Zeppelin’s debut album kicked out the jams, blew the dust off the speakers, and erupted like the world’s greatest seventh-grade science fair volcano. There was literally nothing to compare it to. In a time when Otis Redding was Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay and Jim Morrison and the Doors were proclaiming Hello, I Love You, Bonham, Jones, Page, and Plant were in the back alley seducing your girlfriend and forcing you to buy new stereo equipment from the back of their van.
Their eponymous debut kicked off a string of four self-titled albums, all released in an incredibly short 3-year window. Every single one of these albums went platinum, but are well known today as SOLID FUCKING GOLD. They were an absolutely unprecedented explosion of genre-defining music. The production, musicality, and technical expertise on these albums was unmatched by anything available at the time. Many people had played with stereo separation and effects before Led Zeppelin, but no one had turned their use into an absolute art form.
Debates rage amongst fans over which of these albums is the greatest. LZI is, without a doubt, the greatest debut album of all time.. LZII kicks off with Whole Lotta Love and does not let up. LZIII‘s Immigrant Song is one of the most popular songs in modern history, and clocks in at under two and half minutes. And LZIV has what is arguably the second most recognizable song in the world after Happy Birthday - just over eight minutes of high-school-dance-ending bliss, in Stairway to Heaven.
The second four albums from the band were released in the six years between 1973 and 1979. Houses of the Holy graced our presence in 1973, and I defy you to not bang your head to the opening riff of The Ocean. Physical Graffiti was a massive double album that was released in 1975. It took the band and the listeners on new weaving and winding journeys, most notably on the track Kashmir. Confusingly, it also had the song “Houses of the Holy* on it. Presence, their seventh and least-appreciated album (which still went platinum) followed up in 1976. Achilles Last Stand taught Greek mythology to generations of teenagers who bought it. Their final studio album, In Through the Out Door, came out in 1979. More reflective and mellow, the crowning jewel on the album is clearlyHot Dog the melancholic All My Love. Lest we forget, Led Zeppelin also released a genre-defining live album and concert in The Song Remains the Same. Go watch it and then go watch Over the Years and Through the Woods and you can’t deny the influence.
While many songs of theirs dealt with sex (Hint: Squeeze my lemon ‘till the juice runs down my leg is not a lyric about making lemonade; and Custard Pie isn’t really about dessert) the band explored different themes and directions in their music. They were influenced by genres ranging from Norse mythology to the works of Tolkien to the occult to the hero’s journey. Not only did their musicianship define Rock and Roll, their lyrical odysseys gave everyone that followed them permission to explore new and diverse areas for inspiration.
The darker side of their legacy has been one rife with lawsuits and accusations of plagiarism. While no one in the band denies that they had all kinds of inspiration from Blues giants Willie Dixon, Muddy Waters and Robert Johnson, the accusations of outright theft and profiteering have (black?) dogged them for decades. In fact, it actually wasn’t until March of 2020 that they finally won a copyright case over their biggest hit, Stairway to Heaven.
The world was then plunged into a global pandemic.
Coincidence??!?!?
Fuck, where did I put my tinfoil hat...
Fans of the band argue that these copyright lawsuits are just profiteering by selfish and inferior artists. But few can deny that the boundaries between influence and direct theft can appear blurred indeed. Even if the accusations of theft are true, the performance ability of the band - the sheer musicianship - has never been in dispute. The ultimate irony here is that Led Zeppelin’s songs have now been covered more often than the mattresses at Holiday Inn.
We know the end of this story all too well. John Bonham’s tragic and accidental death from asphyxiation. The subsequent break-up of the band. The releases and re-releases of music, including live versions, remastered versions and multiple box sets. The yearning for a reunion, and the amazing one-off concert in 2007 featuring Jason Bonham, John’s son, on drums. We know that there will never be another Led Zeppelin.
...or will there? Tune in next week to find out for sure.
Links to QOTSA
As we learned last week, John Paul Jones joined our hero and ginger father figure in the band Them Crooked Vultures where, alongside Alain Johannes and Dave Grohl, they spent a magical year touring in support of their amazing self-titled album. Dave, as an on again/off again QOTSA member, was on stage with his little-known other band in 2012 at the Kennedy Centre honors show that recognized Led Zeppelin’s abiding influence in music.
That’s right - just in case you missed it, Led Zeppelin were kinda influential in music. Josh himself showed homage to the band on the self-titled album with You Can’t Quit Me Baby.
Even today, a kid somewhere is listening to them for the first time in sheer amazement.
And if they are not, go put on some Zeppelin for them. They will thank you later.
Their Music
Good Times, Bad Times -- Live
Dazed and Confused -- ONE SONG, almost half and hour long, LIVE
Communication Breakdown
I Can’t Quit You Baby
Whole Lotta Love
When the Levee Breaks
Thank You
Immigrant Song
Black Dog
Stairway to Heaven -- Live
The Ocean
Kashmir -- Live
Achilles Last Stand
All My Love
Show Them Some Love
/ledzeppelin
Previous Posts
Tool
Alice in Chains
King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard
Rage Against The Machine
Soundgarden
Run the Jewels
Royal Blood
Arctic Monkeys
Ty Segall
Eagles of Death Metal
Them Crooked Vultures
submitted by House_of_Suns to qotsa [link] [comments]
Sounds kinda familiar, doesn’t it?
We know that turbulent times in society produce amazing music.
This truly was a time when Titans walked the Earth. Primordial rock and roll artists were overthrown and consumed in this band’s wake. Led Zeppelin did not merely arise in a fertile and creative era; they quite literally defined music for generations. They gave birth to hard rock and heavy metal. Fully 50 years of rock musicians follow the paths that this band hacked out of the wilderness. True trailblazers. Legends. Few, if any, are on their level. Their cultural impact cannot be overstated.
Let us take some time to recognize them before Zeus overthrows their rule, and before Ragnarok raptures them all up into the final Battle with Buddha, Odin, Mohammed and Vishnu to climb Yggdrasil and rule forever in Valhalla. Also, just so I’ve offended everyone equally, Shinto Agnostic Atheist Jewish Jesus the Shaman and his buddy and Sikh Spiritualist Jainist Falun-Gong Zarathushtra will also be there, along with all of their Mormon followers. They, alongside our musical heroes, will beat the crap out of Tom Cruise and his Scientologist nutjob friends.
That’s right: this week’s featured Band is LED ZEPPELIN.
About Them
What can anyone say about Loop Zoop?
Every single member of the band rolled a natural 20 for musical talent. Robert Plant oozed sheer charisma and sex appeal. John Bonham maxed out the strength stat and literally invented what it meant to be a rock/metal drummer. John Paul Jones is the embodiment of wisdom, as he defined the rock bass groove. And literally generations of kids that get guitars at Christmas try to play Stairway to Heaven with the same dexterity and agility that came naturally to Jimmy Page. And as with every story of heroes, their origins are shrouded in mystery. Reputedly, they were seduced and recruited from the suburbs by a sketchy traveling fireworks artist so that they could engage in the illegal cross border smuggling of stolen goods. Before being imprisoned himself, this bearded grey-clad vagabond forced our heroes to hang out with an incredibly violent and aggressive midget. This midget was b-f-fs with an emo dude with body mods, an obscure and nebulous vigilante, and a guy with more daddy issues than your average prostitute. When the midget, the emo, the vigilante and Fortunate Son got into a brawl, the band got the hell out of dodge. Two of them went to hang out with an escaped murderer and the other two did some aggressive gardening. Birds were also involved or something, IDK.
Wait. Shit. I think that’s Lord of the Rings. At least, that's not the right story, but it does have a familiar ring to it.
Where was I? Oh right. Led Zeppelin truly did have humble beginnings.
In 1966, session guitarist Jimmy Page was asked to join a band named the Yardbirds (and on bass of all things). Seeing as bass is just guitar on easy mode, he soon graduated to the position of lead guitarist.
However, he was on a sinking
Page’s first choice for singer was actually session musician Terry Reid. Reid, however, ended up being busy with some no-name bands called “Rolling Rock” or “Gather no Moss” or “The Rolling Stones” or something (IDK, I’m not a Midnight Rambler) and also “Cream” or “low fat dairy creamer” or “alternative, lactose-free cream substitute” or whatever, some milk product. With apologies, Reid suggested Band of Joy singer Robert Plant should take his place.
This turned out to be a pretty good choice, and it came with a hidden benefit. Plant brought along a plus one - Mr. John Bonham, who had been drumming for the Band of Joy at the time. Oh yeah, it's all coming together now. The final member of our all star squad came when Chris Dreja decided to jump ship and become a photographer (he just couldn't picture himself staying in the band!). This was clearly a good move, as it’s not like these guys were going anywhere. Anyway, with his departure, an interested musician by the name of John Paul Jones asked if he could fill in. Page knew Jones as a session musician and Yardbirds performer, and was happy to let him join the band.
The “New Yardbirds” were complete. The Infinity Gauntlet of rock and roll was assembled. And after a stint of concerts through Scandinavia, they earned their first major accolade: a cease and desist letter.
That’s right. World renowned photographer Chris Dreja was back, and not so happy about Page's use of the word “Yardbirds” in this new band’s name. And so, they were forced to swap.
One story accounts that, when asked about the possibility of a supergroup, Keith Moon and John Entwistle said that they’d go down like a “lead balloon.”
It was perfect. Everyone today knows the many popular songs by “Lead Balloon”, like “Emigrant Tune”, “Decent days, Shite days”, and “In the Afternoon”. Okay, okay you get it -- the name was almost there, but not quite.
They dropped the “a” in “lead” to make sure it could never be mispronounced as “leed”. And of course, they swapped the all-too-cool “balloon” for “Zeppelin”. The band was born, and ready for the world.
You already know their music; it's iconic, it’s groundbreaking, it’s timeless. From the start, they made themselves known as talented musicians, here to cut their own path and break the mold. They drew from all kinds of sources, happy to flaunt their influences and combine them into a new form of music. These guys meant business, and hit the ground running.
Their sound was absolutely unlike anything else. From the first powerful chords of Good Times, Bad Times through the asymmetrical and psychedelic sounds of Dazed and Confused, to the frantic electricity of Communication Breakdown, Led Zeppelin’s debut album kicked out the jams, blew the dust off the speakers, and erupted like the world’s greatest seventh-grade science fair volcano. There was literally nothing to compare it to. In a time when Otis Redding was Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay and Jim Morrison and the Doors were proclaiming Hello, I Love You, Bonham, Jones, Page, and Plant were in the back alley seducing your girlfriend and forcing you to buy new stereo equipment from the back of their van.
Their eponymous debut kicked off a string of four self-titled albums, all released in an incredibly short 3-year window. Every single one of these albums went platinum, but are well known today as SOLID FUCKING GOLD. They were an absolutely unprecedented explosion of genre-defining music. The production, musicality, and technical expertise on these albums was unmatched by anything available at the time. Many people had played with stereo separation and effects before Led Zeppelin, but no one had turned their use into an absolute art form.
Debates rage amongst fans over which of these albums is the greatest. LZI is, without a doubt, the greatest debut album of all time.. LZII kicks off with Whole Lotta Love and does not let up. LZIII‘s Immigrant Song is one of the most popular songs in modern history, and clocks in at under two and half minutes. And LZIV has what is arguably the second most recognizable song in the world after Happy Birthday - just over eight minutes of high-school-dance-ending bliss, in Stairway to Heaven.
The second four albums from the band were released in the six years between 1973 and 1979. Houses of the Holy graced our presence in 1973, and I defy you to not bang your head to the opening riff of The Ocean. Physical Graffiti was a massive double album that was released in 1975. It took the band and the listeners on new weaving and winding journeys, most notably on the track Kashmir. Confusingly, it also had the song “Houses of the Holy* on it. Presence, their seventh and least-appreciated album (which still went platinum) followed up in 1976. Achilles Last Stand taught Greek mythology to generations of teenagers who bought it. Their final studio album, In Through the Out Door, came out in 1979. More reflective and mellow, the crowning jewel on the album is clearly
While many songs of theirs dealt with sex (Hint: Squeeze my lemon ‘till the juice runs down my leg is not a lyric about making lemonade; and Custard Pie isn’t really about dessert) the band explored different themes and directions in their music. They were influenced by genres ranging from Norse mythology to the works of Tolkien to the occult to the hero’s journey. Not only did their musicianship define Rock and Roll, their lyrical odysseys gave everyone that followed them permission to explore new and diverse areas for inspiration.
The darker side of their legacy has been one rife with lawsuits and accusations of plagiarism. While no one in the band denies that they had all kinds of inspiration from Blues giants Willie Dixon, Muddy Waters and Robert Johnson, the accusations of outright theft and profiteering have (black?) dogged them for decades. In fact, it actually wasn’t until March of 2020 that they finally won a copyright case over their biggest hit, Stairway to Heaven.
The world was then plunged into a global pandemic.
Coincidence??!?!?
Fuck, where did I put my tinfoil hat...
Fans of the band argue that these copyright lawsuits are just profiteering by selfish and inferior artists. But few can deny that the boundaries between influence and direct theft can appear blurred indeed. Even if the accusations of theft are true, the performance ability of the band - the sheer musicianship - has never been in dispute. The ultimate irony here is that Led Zeppelin’s songs have now been covered more often than the mattresses at Holiday Inn.
We know the end of this story all too well. John Bonham’s tragic and accidental death from asphyxiation. The subsequent break-up of the band. The releases and re-releases of music, including live versions, remastered versions and multiple box sets. The yearning for a reunion, and the amazing one-off concert in 2007 featuring Jason Bonham, John’s son, on drums. We know that there will never be another Led Zeppelin.
...or will there? Tune in next week to find out for sure.
Links to QOTSA
As we learned last week, John Paul Jones joined our hero and ginger father figure in the band Them Crooked Vultures where, alongside Alain Johannes and Dave Grohl, they spent a magical year touring in support of their amazing self-titled album. Dave, as an on again/off again QOTSA member, was on stage with his little-known other band in 2012 at the Kennedy Centre honors show that recognized Led Zeppelin’s abiding influence in music.
That’s right - just in case you missed it, Led Zeppelin were kinda influential in music. Josh himself showed homage to the band on the self-titled album with You Can’t Quit Me Baby.
Even today, a kid somewhere is listening to them for the first time in sheer amazement.
And if they are not, go put on some Zeppelin for them. They will thank you later.
Their Music
Good Times, Bad Times -- Live
Dazed and Confused -- ONE SONG, almost half and hour long, LIVE
Communication Breakdown
I Can’t Quit You Baby
Whole Lotta Love
When the Levee Breaks
Thank You
Immigrant Song
Black Dog
Stairway to Heaven -- Live
The Ocean
Kashmir -- Live
Achilles Last Stand
All My Love
Show Them Some Love
/ledzeppelin
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