RoyalRoad
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Story contains a lot about markets, logistics, development, and the best and worst of human history. Not so much Space Marines nuking aliens.
If you enjoyed the trade negotiations and Senate politics in the Star Wars prequels, and wished that there was an entire standalone story consisting solely of those parts, this might be for you!
In response to all the helpful feedback I've gotten, I am making major revisions to the start of this story, especially focusing on chapters one through three. While this occurs, there may be some inconsistencies.
The names of the brave astronauts aboard the first manned FTL spacecraft will forever be recorded in the annals of human history as a triumph of human ingenuity, determination, and international cooperation.
However, what came immediately after would be far more remembered.
"Hello, people of Earth! Humans! Welcome to the galactic community."
A shocked planet watched on their screens as an utterly alien character that looked like it was lifted out of a bad sci-fi show spoke. The alien mouth movements of what could only be described as a frog creature did not match the very human words that came out of the robotic translator.
The aliens did not pirate TV networks, nor did they hack into important government websites. They simply broadcast this openly on satellite TV for anyone with an antenna to hear. And for anyone who did not, there were CNN and social media.
"First, we would like to congratulate you on your first successful use of the blink drive. That itself is a feat of enlightenment most species we monitor do not achieve. Indeed, the physics of it all is not only extremely complex, it requires the cooperation and sacrifice of many beings, over many generations."
The young people at Mission Control in Johnson Space Center patted each other on the back tepidly as they watched the green headed frog-like alien addressing their hard work on the main screen.
"We come in peace. We are representatives of the Galactic Trader Guild."
Some humans let out a sigh of relief. Others, skeptical, watched intensely on.
"We are not here to take your resources or your people. The thousands of planets and species in the galaxy live in total peace and harmony with each other. Regional conflicts on planets are inevitable, but one thing we as a Guild pride ourselves on is our ability to ensure that none has ever reached the sacred frontiers of space."
That's a little odd, most people thought, and probably at least a little propagandized. After all, war is such a big part of human history and the human condition that it was hard to imagine an entire galactic community of thousands of FTL-capable species that never fought in space.
"Our spaceships represent millions of years of hard work, and these incredible investments must never be put into jeopardy. Therefore, weapons designed for use in space are banned. This ban will be enforced by regular ship inspections from your local Guild representatives, who are exceptions to this rule."
Most of the peace-loving people of Earth thought this was great news. After all, many nations had banned the usage of weapons in space. The only exceptions were, of course, the nations that actually had the capability to make use of space weapons. Government lawyers in the world were already starting their first drafts on their inevitable memos on how these rules obviously wouldn't or shouldn't apply to their country.
"As our name implies, we are a trade organization. We have rules for proper trade conduct that ensure a free and fair exchange of goods. All offworld traders from your planet must abide by them. Any breach of our bylaws and all fraudulent transactions can be reported to your local Guild representative. All our Guild documents will be transmitted to your people, translated to your dominant language."
A quick string of bytes followed on the digital transmission. Amateurs on the Internet quickly decoded the document. The content was a goldmine of information about the galaxy. Coordinates for alien planets on the blink drive, some engineering documents, and standardized units of measurements.
These are the temperatures and pressures at which pure water boils.
This is the standard strength of iron.
This is the distance light can travel in a vacuum while certain atoms decay. And so on.
Indeed, the big frog alien continued, "inside, you will find the specifications for an FTL beacon and the requirements for a standard trading spaceport. Once you have built them, traders around the galaxy will make the journey to make fair exchange with your people. Commonly traded items are food, manufactured goods, and workers. We are certain that your planet has many items of value for trade."
"We hope that you have a good cycle, and we eagerly await the arrival of you and your descendants in our spaceports!"
With that message transmitted, they and their ship disappeared. There were no negotiations. No exchange of handshakes.
As their ship blinked away, humanity pondered the colossal implications.
"Which planet is next on the list?" asked the big green frog as he parched his throat with water after the broadcast.
"That was it, representative. The railgun upgrade betting pool has Planet-3822 and Planet-8901 as the most likely next contenders for enlightenment. Would you like to place a wager?"
Some governments decided to suppress the news. North Korean state television cut to an orchestra playing classical music. Others made laws prohibiting the distribution of the material transmitted by the aliens until further study could be made.
In most of the connected world, the Internet rendered these measures pointless. By the end of the day, everyone had seen the aliens and that's not a genie that you could put back into the bottle. Most governments used this as an opportunity to justify dramatic increases in funding for space programs and defense.
There were very few incidents of the often exaggerated threat of civil unrest. Most people went on with their lives. They went to school, to work, and to ball games.
The arrival of the aliens had profound implications on the future of human philosophy. Most major religions had a dogma-compatible explanation by the end of the hour. Some sects even proclaimed this as evidence that their worldviews were correct.
In the stock market, this news was a massive upheaval in expectations. Thousands of alien worlds. This meant new markets with potentially trillions of customers. It also meant that potential alien technology could put entire industries out of business. Stock prices swung wildly as uncertain traders rapidly changed their positions.
Several development companies immediately announced their intentions to start construction on the spaceports mentioned in the Guild documents. As it turned out, building a place for spaceships to land wasn't that complex. You just needed something hard, durable, and flat that could withstand a bit of heat and wear. Using the formulas provided by the documents, experts agreed that the asphalt concrete normally used for airport tarmac would do just fine.
Normally, environmental reviews would need to be done, the sound pollution would need to be contained. Hundreds of tests needed to be conducted on site, but from what the frogheads said, if you built it, the traders were going to come.
Nobody wanted to be left out of what was going to be the new gold rush. So, money changed hands to grease the gears that ensured these new projects went through. Some lobbyists in Washington DC made a lot of money ensuring that no new regulations on "spaceport construction and operation" were added.
Even in California, the capital of NIMBYs and tree huggers, people could smell an opportunity if it boomed down from orbit and bonked them in the nose with it. Which it did in this case.
Thus, Livermore Spaceport.
What used to be a bunch of warehouses and parking lots just a short five-minute drive from Lawrence Livermore National Labs became a rapidly growing construction site. It was close enough to the San Francisco Bay Area metro that people could commute to it and see the first of the new generation FTL spacecraft take off and land, but far enough that they didn't have to hear about it when they slept.
BREAKING: LIVERMORE SPACEPORT OPERATIONAL
Looking up from her morning coffee, that's what the muted TV screen was trumpeting in big words on the CNN ticker. The mayor was talking, judging by the scrolling captions, something about how this will bring new jobs and money to the city.
Sarah snorted. Everything is always breaking news. She absent-mindedly watched as the TV played stock footage of the construction workers installing the antenna last month and humanity's first interstellar ships took off and landed on the concrete lot as she sipped her coffee.
Sarah Miller would not call herself a hard worker. She graduated from the University of Washington with a degree in Communications, not exactly a field high in demand. When she got offered a job as a "marketing person" at a tech startup in SF, she grabbed it, more like you'd grab a life raft and less like it was an opportunity of a lifetime or anything.
Then, two years later, the startup failed. Funding dried up, and now she was out of a job in a metro with some of the highest cost of living in the world, with not exactly the hottest resume.
So now she was sitting at a breakfast shop just outside her rented apartment in Livermore, checking her emails to see whether she got any replies on her job applications (she had not) and contemplating how long she'd last before she'd have to go home to live with her parents in Seattle.
It was not exactly a fun thought.
"You going to the spaceport opening too, Sarah?" Rudely interrupted from her self-pity, she looked to see the woman across from her. She racked her memory to match the face to a name, but nothing came immediately. Mid to late 20s, Asian American, hipster glasses, t-shirt and jeans.
The writing on the coffee cup in her hand said her name was "Jan". Ah, yes, they met a few times on the BART commute into the city. Was her name Jan or…
"Hey Jen, naw I was just staring at the news. How's it going?"
"Great! What about you? Haven't seen you on the BART for a few. You still working at that place downtown?"
Sarah sighed internally, here it is again. "Not anymore, we just got shut down. So, I'm pretty much just lounging around."
"Aww that's terrible!" Then Jen thought for a second. "Listen, I've got a business idea about the spaceport stuff, but no one to share them with. You should come with me to the opening."
"Oh yeah? Why's that?" Sarah asked, leaning forward. Normally, this would sound like the start of some kind of MLM scam or something, but she'd been unemployed long enough but that the word "business" piqued her interest. She knew that Jen was some kind of fancy engineer who made enough to still have savings despite living in one of the most expensive places in the world, so she probably wasn't asking for money.
Jen almost whispered, "my cousin's one of the construction workers at the spaceport, and he said he could get me in. They have a lot of big companies bidding to get on the ground floor of the alien trade with truckloads of all kinds of goods, but he's got an employee pass that'll get us in on day one."
"Wait, what?" Sarah said, confused. "I thought we were just going to see the opening."
"We are," Jen replied, "but I'm thinking we rent a truck, load it up with food, and see what the aliens will give us!"
"What do you need me for?"
"Well," Jen hesitated, "I have money for the truck and the food, but I don't know much about selling stuff…"
Neither did Sarah. She was in marketing, not a saleswoman. But she wasn't going to mention that.
"Sure, I sell a ton of stuff on Craigslist," she said instead, "but I'm sure nobody has experience selling to aliens!"
Jen looked relieved. Really, she just wanted some kind of backup instead of going alone. "Ok, since I'm putting up the money, and you're going to do the selling, I think we split profits fifty-fifty after I recoup the cost of the U-Haul rental and the food. How's that sound?"
Sarah thought for a while, but not too long. It probably wouldn't make them that much money, she thought. Then again, she wasn't putting anything on the line. And she needed money, if there were any to be earned here. She reached her arm out for a handshake.
"Deal!"
It's not like she had anything else to do on Saturday.
Costco, Livermore
The froghead had said that aliens traded food, and food was relatively cheap, so it was probably a safer bet to stick to than manufactured goods. Who even knew if the aliens could ride a bicycle or were interested in a PlayStation? The part he mentioned about trading workers sounded an awful lot like slavery, so that was an obvious non-starter.
"Do you think the aliens eat meat?" Sarah asked, holding up a massive bag of hamburgers.
Jen considered that for a second. Some vegetarians and vegans would probably postulate that a morally superior species would not partake in the consumption of animal flesh. Then again, she didn't have to guess. She pulled out her phone, and looked up the Guild documents summary someone had helpfully compiled into Wikipedia.
"Hmm it says that many of the other alien species are omnivores because that's how they get a wider variety of calories," Jen said after browsing a while.
They loaded one bag of each of meat onto their carts, and made sure to buy ice boxes to keep them frozen. It took several trips to their rental truck, but they finally loaded it with enough fruits, vegetables, and frozen meats to make a dent in Jen's sizable bank account.
They hoped that these aliens liked apples and pears. Those were on sale.
Livermore Spaceport, Earth
It looked like the entire Bay Area showed up and were lining up to get in. Tourists were bussing in from out of town. They saw several groups of international tourist groups that were corralling their customers around with loudspeakers.
As they drove past the long line towards the vehicle entrance, they waved at the excited crowds and got a few whoops and cheers in return.
The security guards at the gate checked their pass and let them through to the security checkpoint. Several men that looked like they meant business opened up their truck and scanned it carefully with metal detectors and x-ray scanners to ensure that no one got any funny ideas.
There was a short delay while the customs officer tried to figure out whether they needed to fill out an elaborate looking form for the fresh food in the back of their truck. A few calls to his supervisor later, amid angry glares from the truck drivers waiting behind them, he let them go.
Sarah and Jen drove into a parking lot closer to the landing pads. The pads were large concrete surfaces with white and yellow painted targets. Off in the distance, they could see hangars and a tower that looked like an airport traffic control tower. There were also a few buildings under construction, including one that looked like the start of an upscale luxury dining establishment.
From behind, they saw some of the crowd were filing into a waiting area from where they could observe the aliens from afar.
Jen felt lucky. If the food in the back was the price of admission for seeing the visitors from outer space up close and personal, to her, it would have been well worth it. Sarah was checking the battery on her phone to make sure that there would be enough left to take pictures or video, if the opportunity arises.
Most of the other trucks in the parking lot with them had logos of recognizable companies on them. Several tech companies in the Bay Area that sponsored the construction of the spaceport won bids to get in on the action. Others were some local companies that had connections to the spaceport like Jen did.
Sarah saw them first before she heard it.
First one, then several more, spaceships descended from the sky, accompanied by sonic booms as the excited crowd looked up into the sky with hands on their brows shielding from the sun.
The alien spaceships couldn't be mistaken for human rockets, but there was a certain familiarity. Long, pointy, utilitarian hull shapes with rocket flames coming out the bottom. Like modern cars that all look like they're designed in a wind tunnel, it seems like there's one efficient way to build spaceships, and everyone stuck to it.
It's nice to know that at least we were on the right track, Sarah thought to herself as the ships touched down gently on the target landing pads. Human ships can't maneuver as sharply, nor are they anywhere near the same scale and size, but at least we got the shapes right.
The cargo-plane-sized spaceships settled on the concrete landing pads without so much as a crunch. Small hatches opened at the bottom of each, and walkway ramps rolled down.
At some hidden signal, the security guard gestured to the parking lot that they were free to approach, and the dazed merchants sprang into action.
The alien they've just greeted through a translator calls himself "Zarko". He was apparently part of a species of rock planet humanoids called the Zeepil that came from a system about 200 light years from Earth, and his skin had a charred appearance that made him look like a heavily sunburned sloth on two legs.
"Let me guess, what you've brought is your native foods," Zarko's translator said in a monotone Stephen Hawking voice that did not match the movement of what looked like his lips.
"Yes! How did you guess? Can you guys eat the fruits and vegetables that we have?" Sarah asked. She stopped herself from mentioning the steaks and chicken in their ice boxes. She figured there's no knowing whether these aliens thought about carnivores, so she started with the safe stuff first.
"We consume silicon and uranium for sustenance," Zarko made a strange face and then burped, "I am joking. Every newcomer species asks the same question. Most species share the same diet. Some species eat meat from other animals. Sapient meat is of course illegal on most planets."
Relieved that Jen didn't just waste thousands of dollars on the meat, they showed Zarko their wares. And with their permission, he sampled some of each goods they had, including a bit of the raw meat.
"Good, good," Zarko was pleased. "I detect a high amount of sugar and starch in a lot of your wares. I would take it all." The Gaks would be impressed the next time he stopped at their planet.
"Can we see what you have?" Jen asked excitedly. She pushed a funny image of the aliens grabbing all their stuff and just taking off out of her mind. They wouldn't go through all the trouble of coming here just to steal some food… would they?
"Yes, yes," Zarko pulled out a tray of gadgets and started describing his goods to them.
"This is a spaceship rated fire extinguisher," he described several slightly oversized aerosol cans, "good for even reactor fires!"
"First aid kits for basic bandaging and wound cleaning, compatible with human physiology." They were several plastic looking boxes with an alien looking skull marked on all six sides. It looks like the red cross symbol wasn't so universal anymore.
"Civilian hunting rifle," Zarko set it on the table. "Powered by laser. Holds twelve shots."
It was a familiar looking weapon. Jen and Sarah looked nervously around at the security guards, but they didn't seem to notice. This was very illegal in the state of California.
They shook their heads at that one and asked to see something else. Whoever was dumb enough to buy that one would probably get it confiscated on their way out of the spaceport.
"Advanced mathematics calculator, base-24," he said. This one looked like a regular calculator but with more buttons. Interesting, but probably not that useful to humans.
"Stasis box. Keeps food safe to eat for years. Operates on solar power." Ah, a space fridge, basically. Finally, something that would probably cover their expenses.
Zarko also claimed to have tons of raw materials in his ship, including what he called "better concrete" and "better steel". The translator had some problems with these; it seems like they just hadn't been invented on Earth yet. But Zarko had customers for those on other planets already, so he didn't bother to put them out for display.
After a little haggling, Sarah and Jen settled on four of the first aid kits, six of the fire extinguishers, and one of the stasis boxes. Sarah reasoned that the stasis box could probably fetch a much higher price if they resold it as "alien technology" online, and Jen deferred to Sarah's experience in selling her old stuff online.
Zarko printed out instructions for each of the items in English, even if they did all look fairly intuitive to use by themselves. The aliens may look different from them, but by the way the fire extinguisher buttons seem to activate, the way they made their stuff did not seem that different.
The most significant difference they saw between the alien goods and what their human counterparts would be is the amount of care that clearly went into making each item. Each of the first aid kit boxes, Sarah observed, looked just a little different from each other. The adornments and decorations on the side were painted or carved on with details that weren't exactly the same, and one even had a bright gold finish.
She wondered why.
As she got home around midnight, Sarah immediately got onto Craigslist and thought about where to list "alien first aid kits". Technically, it could be under "household items", or "tools", but "collectibles" would probably get them the most-
That's when she found the "alien" section. Of hecking course. For a website that looks like it was made in the 90s, they'd already adjusted to the latest fad with remarkable speed. She found dozens of listings of alien items that she saw that Zarko was parading around, and quite a few that he didn't have.
There were no other first aid kits listed on the market. Which was strange because she definitely saw dozens of those being sold by the other traders. Hm… without a starting price, it was hard to gauge how much she should be selling it for.
She refreshed the page out of habit and watched the new items scroll in.
Her first reaction was: Ah, someone just posted a first aid kit.
Her second reaction was: Wait, for how much?
There was a listing of a first aid kit for $20,000. Which was ridiculous. It's a collectible, but a box of bandages was not worth the price of a brand-new car.
Something nagging at her instinct, Sarah opened one of them up. It was just a bunch of bandages, syringes, and basic medical stuff. Some of it had the wrong shapes, or had a different color than they'd normally be, but there's only so many ways to bandage an open wound, and everything looked familiar-ish.
She read the English manual that Zarko had printed for her. It said:
"Rated for human use. Includes:
Bandage 4 rolls,
Skin adhesive 16 pieces,
Pain relief cream 2 ounces,
Radiation exposure injection 2 doses,
Cold relief medicine 24-"
Wait, what? Radiation exposure injection? Like in case the spaceship hull leaks or something?
Sarah skimmed through the list and looked at usage instructions for:
"Radiation exposure injection: use in case of emergency hull exposure. Rapidly repairs cell and bone marrow damage for patients with acute radiation exposure and kills all cancer cell growth in body. Dose takes effect within 30 seconds. Side effects may include nausea, dehydration, drowsiness…"
Her blood chilled. She read it again.
And again to be certain.
Then she wiped away the sweat around her eyebrows to make sure she wasn't dreaming.
"Kills all cancer cell growth in body."
She looked at her laptop and refreshed the page. The previous first aid kit listing she saw had been taken down, presumably sold for $20,000. If this kit did what it said it would…
Excited, she refreshed the online listing page again. She saw two listings for the alien first aid kit, both up to well over $100,000 now.
Refresh.
A million. Some guy was selling a darn first aid kit for a million dollars.
This was incredible. Some corner of her brain whined something about putting a price on health, but she cast that out of her mind to refresh again and see more listings in the millions of dollars. And she was holding four of them in her lap.
Half an hour later, it seemed that the prices had stabilized around $4 million, the price of a small closet in downtown San Fran.
This was evidently the market price for the life of a cancer patient.
Horrific.
She put up a listing for $15 million for her four boxes.
Instantly, her email inbox started getting notifications, a number of apparently wealthy individuals with sick relatives desperate to buy a miracle cure that hadn't even been tested or proven on humans yet, introducing themselves and sharing their life stories.
There was a guy who owned a large database company but had recently been diagnosed with lung cancer. He knew he should have stopped smoking years ago, but he needed something to manage the stress.
Another, a business executive, who had a heartbreaking story of her dad dying of liver cancer.
Then, a short and simple "Willing to offer twenty million in cash today for all 8 doses of anti-radiation medicine in alien aid kit, J&J VP of Research and Innovation, Alexi G."
She looked him up online.
He was legit, from a big pharma R&D.
She reasoned that maybe selling to someone who could do research on it would help more people. And he was offering more…
She replied.
He wanted to meet at their company office downtown first thing in the morning.
Downtown San Francisco
Alexi had made good on his offer. He hadn’t tried to haggle the price, as she’d know some Craigslist buyers would try to do once you met them in person. It was generally considered a jerk move.
It was Saturday, so the offices were mostly empty, except for one conference room with several employees as well as Alexi. She handed over her duffel bag with the four kits, he opened and checked each to make sure their contents were all there, and handed over a cashier’s check for the agreed amount.
And that was it.
It had taken her bank an hour to process the check, and several additional hours to clear it. The money appeared in her account around midnight, at which point Sarah let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding for a day.
Sarah was rich.
Sarah got out her phone to text Jen the news.
Huh, there was an email notification "Hey Sarah, thank you for your interest in applying to be our marketing assistant. If you can send us your resume and a co-"
Delete.
Twenty million dollars was a lot of money.
Neither Sarah nor Jen had ever seen that much money, but they knew enough to leave something like this to a professional.
An accountant at a Big Four company helped them divide up the assets and ballparked how much they’d eventually need to render unto Uncle Sam the things that were his come April 15th.
Sarah paid all her bills on time, a first in months.
Jen quit her job the next day. After all, what was the point of being a web developer for a measly six-figure salary when there was a gold rush next door?
Figuratively speaking.
They both vaguely knew the history of the gold seekers during the California Gold Rush.
Some of them struck it rich, but some found nothing in the river beds of the Sacramento. The people who had made the most money in 1849 were actually not the flood of gold prospectors who came into the area.
The people who had gotten the richest out of the gold boom were the merchants who sold them the prospecting equipment they used, the services they needed, the food they ate, and the clothes they wore. The masses of pioneers who came for a new life in the American West: they were the real gold rush.
Most people today do not know the name of a single gold seeker.
Most people today have heard of some of the merchants who got rich off the gold seekers’ businesses. Levi Strauss, John Studebaker, Sam Brannan.
And of course, Henry Wells and William Fargo.
This was the fourth time they've been back to the spaceport, Sarah thought, and they'd gotten something new each time. They'd dealt with different traders each time, though they did see Zarko at least one other time as he was leaving with a full hold of fresh fruit.
After the first couple days, the alien traders had noticed that there seemed to be shortage of first aid kits on Earth, and the inevitable flood of anti-cancer syringes put online dramatically lowered its listing price.
Several large pharmaceutical companies had also issued press releases that they were within months of the development of generic anti-cancer medicine. The lawyers were working overdrive over the IP implications of adapted alien technology, but there didn't seem to be any laws preventing companies from doing it…
This brought its price down to the tens or hundreds of thousands. Nothing to sneeze at for most people, of course, but it was a literal cure for cancer and well within range of some other items the aliens were bringing.
Today, Zarko was trying to sell her and Jen on some kind of liquid medical adhesive in industrial quantities. Some hardy tree-like species use it to glue deep wounds together or something, but Sarah saw a few listings for it on Craigslist a couple of days ago that had no takers, even for cheap. Medical companies must have thought it not really worth pursuing as Earth already had similar products.
Unfortunately for Zarko, he'd already filled his cargo hold with tons of the liquid after hearing how well medical supplies were selling on Earth. His reward for his entrepreneurial spirit was an empty paw. It was beginning to look like he'd need to dump his cargo for a few boxes of worthless Vton trinkets on his way home.
Sarah and Jen had driven all the way out here with a U-Haul truck worth of pears, and most of the other traders were ready to leave for the next cycle of traders to come in anyway. They could dump their goods on Zikzik, the trader next door, but all he had left are a bunch of "better steel". Apparently some construction companies were learning to work with it, but from what she heard, it was annoying to sell those because the government was still looking at the regulations around these new building materials.
And they looked soooo heavy to have to carry home.
Sarah had learned to read a little more of the humanoid sloth's facial expressions, and he was clearly not happy about having made a trip for nothing. "Tell you what, Zarko. I'll give you the fruit, and you can bring me my goods the next time you come back," she said.
Zarko's snout perked up as he thought. Fundamentally, Zarko considered himself an honest trader. He didn't cheat or skimp on quality of materials, and he didn't lie about what he sells. Sure, he embellished a little sometimes, as all traders do, but who doesn't?
Zarko had never taken on debt to a customer. He's heard of other traders doing this, but the far more common use of debt across the galaxy was to trap people into a lifetime of hard work in unpleasant conditions.
But Sarah and Jen didn't seem like the kind of people who would be capable of doing that.
For a second, Zarko thought about cheating them. Just take their fruits, and never come back to Earth, but immediately he put the thought out of his mind. That was not the right thing to do.
Zarko agreed. He would just have to remember to bring more first aid kits next time right?
"Did you see the way Zarko reacted to the IOU?" Sarah asked Jen on the way home.
"Yeah, do you think he'll just abscond with the fruit?"
"Nah, apparently the pears are selling out like hotcakes. He can't just leave Earth and never come back. I heard Zikzik say he got a brand-new reactor upgrade just from one trip of pears alone," Sarah sounded confident, and hoped that she was right. Something else was bothering her about the alien traders.
"Good. Maybe he's worried we're naive or something and someone else will take advantage of us," Jen brainstormed.
Naive? For what? Getting cheated out of a truck full of ugly pears Safeway was going to throw out at the end of the day? Then, it dawned on her.
"I think there's something missing," Sarah said slowly, thinking about their past interactions with the alien traders, "they don't think about selling things the way we do."
"You mean they don't have money?" Sarah smiled and rolled her eyes in her head, of course Jen was thinking about money.
"Yeah. Come to think of it, they clearly don't live in some kind of Star Trek galaxy where everything is free," Sarah continues her train of thought, gears turning in her head, "they just barter and haggle for all our stuff."
"They don't have money, they don't have debt, they don't have Craigslist!" Jen blurted, the implication of this was beginning to excite the inner businesswoman in her that she's been discovering the past week.
"Coming to the spaceport is their Craigslist, but without money or debt, they must also not have a lot of the other stuff we take for granted," Sarah was already making a list in her head, "that explains why the small variety of consumer goods they have are all related space travel and cargo storage, and why most of their big trade is in industrial goods. They can't have banks! What about loans and mortgages! What about paying fines! How do they even buy stuff normally?"
"Ah, must be such a simple and happy existence without having to think about money," Jen said wistfully.
"Yup," Sarah grinned, "let's go ruin it!"
RoyalRoad
Next

Teaching Transients Tabletop

Ramtidings, dear friends! Where last we parted ways, I had finished working for a friend in Southern California. Before I left to reunite with my hobo crush, my friend had seen me off with some gifts, most notably, a set of RPG dice. After making a wager against a neckbeard on a Greyhound bus that ended poorly for him, I enjoyed the rest of the ride in the lap of luxury. At long last, I had been reunited with my sweetheart, Janet, for a time. After I left, she decided to chase me down. Reunited for a third time, we hit the road together, now with a third, mutual friend in tow by the name of Queenie, a skirt-wearing snaggletoothed hobo with a very haggard voice. I had promised to teach Queenie the joys of tabletop, and even Janet began to express interest in this nerdy passtime as we loitered on freeway onramps, behind gas stations, and under overpasses. Without further introduction, then, we shall dive headlong into this TAAAAAALE FROM THE TABLETOP, lovingly subtitled Are We The Neckbeards?
The magnificent ReddX has narrated our story thus far, and I highly encourage you to go give that boy a like, a sub, and a share. You can find our story at the following link...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-AiJwQA8Dsw
If you're new here, stories about neckbeards are gross. We're probably going to talk about uncomfortable things. You have been warned.
Night had fallen over a truckstop in rural North Dakota. Queenie, Janet, and I had caught a ride in the bed of a pickup truck, and now with the sun down, all bets of traveling further were off. We went and hung around the side of the building and took a seat, becoming a giant pile of bums, backpacks, instruments, and dogs. We spent what pocket change we had on gas station hot dogs and a couple cans of steel reserve, and got comfy for the evening, when Queenie blurted out the words that began it all...
Queenie: I'm bored.
Ah, the doldrums, an inveitable quandary that is bound to strike someone on the road. You can only talk so much about trains, trash, and trouble before you're just beating the same old dead horse. I sympathized with Queenie. I was kind of bored myself. Then I remembered what I had in my backpack. As I dug through my belongings, I cleared my throat and I struck up my best narrative voice. It had certainly been awhile, but I knew I still had it.
GM: Hey, Queenie.
Queenie: Yo.
GM: You wake up naked in a field with a rock. The sun is high in the sky above you, warming your body on this summer day. The grass stands up to your waist, and you hear all around you the quiet, soothing sounds of nature - the wind rustling the grass, birds chirping, the buzzing of insects. To your west you see a sprawling forest, and behind you stands a tall range of rocky mountains. A road, its pavement long since broken and cracked, runs from north to south, and your vision of it is lost behind the treeline. What do you do?
Queenie: What the fuck are you on about dude?
GM: Just humor me, man. What do you do?
I repeated the scenario while queenie contemplated his options once more. He didn't realize I had suckered him into his first tabletop experience, minus the books or table of course. I did, however, recover my dice from the depths of my backpack, and dumped them out on to the concrete in front of me. Queenie responded to my interrogations with a question of his own before he proceeded on his course of action.
Queenie: What kind of rock do I have?
GM: Well, what kind of rock do you want?
He thought about this long and hard.
Queenie: ...I want a big rock of crack!
He enthusiastically shouted this, and a worker taking out the trash gave us a worried look. He probably thought we were dealing drugs behind the gas station. Jesus Christ, Queenie... alright, your wish is my command. Crack you shall have! I told him that he held a giant powdery rock of crack cocaine in his hand, easily the size of his fist.
Queenie: I boof it.
Boofing is when you stick stuff, specifically drugs, in your butt. I've heard it rumored to be the province of alcoholics that get so sick in the morning that they can't physically stomach booze. I do not know the veracity of this. Now, boofing might mostly be a meme and a funny word, or so I thought, until I saw 14, FOURTEEN, people in a row drink beer with their asses one New Year's eve in the desert with my own eyes, but that is a story for another day that I lovingly call Fetch The Apparatus! Back to the act of boofing itself, you can boof powder drugs, alcohol, and LSD, and allegedly, they get you way higher when you do them this way. Some things, however, like some mushrooms or a nug of weed, probably aren't going to do anything. Also, it was common knowledge that, if you boof it, it's free. However, due to recent economic hardships and an unexpected increase in the bum supply, boofing now only nets you a 50% discount. Life's hard like that.
Queenie was adamant about sticking crack cocaine in his ass.
GM: The whole thing?
Queenie: Duh.
I shook my head, took a sip of my beer, and continued the scene. It was his first tabletop afterall, it was funny as hell to my drunk self, and we're all weirdos out here in our own right. At least he's not trying to make me narrate a sex scene with him. Queenie turned over the massive, fist sized crack rock in his hand, before reaching around to his butt, and began to work it in. I held out the dice to give to him. At first he was confused, and then I told him to roll it and tell me the result. Ahhhhh, he's learning! The dice clattered upon the concrete and we leaned in to see what number came up, and he told me with an inquisitve tone, that he rolled high. Something like an 18. He asked me what it meant. I replied that Queenie's asshole was as wide as the open field in which he stood, and it greedily devoured the fist sized crack rock that he had inserted with minimal pain or discomfort.
With a giant rock of crack cocaine dissolving in his pooper, Queenie decided then that it would be a good time to take a nap in the field until there was enough in his blood system for him to enjoy the effects. He laid down in the grass and closed his eyes. I had him roll again, and he rolled very low this time. He didn't even get to fall asleep before he found himself strung out on crack cocaine, started looking for shiny objects in the dirt, and then suffered fatal cardiac arrest. As he lay on the grass, clutching his chest, wondering why this had to happen to him, the world faded to black and he died. Another valuable lesson had been learned. High roll good, low roll bad.
Queenie: That's it? I just die?
GM: You die. The world fades to black as you take your last breaths. You wake up naked in a field with a rock, with a gasp, as if you've just come up from deep underwater. You feel as if you've just come out of a bad dream from having a crack overdose. You turn over the crack rock in your hand before struggling to your feet and surveying your surroundings once more. They seem very familiar to you.
I described the same scenery as earlier that lay before him.
For those of you that haven't figured out just what we were playing, I invite you to explore the videogame known as Rust, back when it was in testing. The premise of the game is that you, well, wake up naked in a field with a rock, and then have to go about the tasks of surviving, building shelter, feeding yourself, and eventually, protecting yourself from others. It was a grind, and all your progress could be snatched from your claws after one bad firefight or simply being asleep at the wrong time. It was a good time however, and without any rulebooks and just my imgination, it seemed simple and intuitive enough to condense into an impromptu tabletop game - it was a modern day feel that was very, very barebones. Oh... and everything's made out of chicken breast. That pig? You betcha. A deer? Sure! A bear? More chicken breast.
Queenie was absolutely fascinated by this revelation that he could not actually die. After boofing his crack rock and dying several more times, he decided that the novelty and humor of this action had worn off, and instead, decided to do something else. He wandered off into the woods. Janet was enraptured as well... this was something new to both of them. Gamified communal story telling with dice? Do people really? They do.
It was getting late, I was getting drunk, and I was tired of narrating all the different ways in which a man could die from stimulant induced heart attacks. I packed up my dice, stood up, slung my backpack upon my shoulders, and wandered out to an empty field. The others joined me, and we struck camp for the night.
The next day, I woke up naked in a field next to Janet. I got dressed, packed my things, and stood up. We went to the truck stop again, and looked for a ride out. To kill the dull hours, I kept the game going. However, Janet was interested if maybe we could do something different than rocks and naked people in fields. I obliged her, and decided to go for a fantasy bent that I figured would be more appealing to her sensibilities, leaving the initial introductory setting in the dust. We began an impromptu fantasy roleplay with m'lord and m'lady, Queenie and Janet. You can imagine, I'm sure, that people must have thought we had lost our minds as I talked about how they had found themselves now inside, guess what, a tavern and the town gaurd told stories of roving orc warbands attacking the outlying countryside, and my companions played right along, going so far as to even talk in exaggerated character voices as we sat under the awning of a Pilot travel stop.
Tabletop is not a spectator sport. Still doing it.
Queenie was gung ho to slay some orcs. Janet, however, wanted to procure some new, gleaming steel before her journey. She sought out the local blacksmith, much to Queenie's dismay, as he insisted that they could just loot bodies for new goodies. That wasn't good enough - she wanted something special, and so she followed the sound of a banging hammer through the town market until she found the blacksmith, a massive giant of a man, beating away on a hot piece of iron atop an anvil. As she approached, he addressed her with a grunt.
Janet: Hi there, I'd like to purchase some weapons.
Blacksmith: K.
He dismissively waved his hand to the back of the shop where racks of glistening steel glimmered by the firelight of the forge, and then returned to mercilessly beating upon the hot iron on the anvil. Janet looked over the wares, somewhat disinterested, and then spoke up again.
Janet: I mean, that's really nice and all, but doesn't a big boy like you have anything more appropriate for a dainty girl like me? Teehee.
I'm denser than a 10 IQ blacksmith savant sometimes.
Blacksmith: Dagger. 10 gold.
Janet: Oh, I see... it just slides in the sheathe like that... can you, uh, show me how to polish this thing?
Damnit, Janet.
Queenie was picking up what she was putting down, and without missing a beat, he told us to go get a fucking bush. He sounded a little spiteful when he said it. He was probably still hurting from his breakup with Sarah, and I wasn't trying to rub his nose in the current euphoric nature of my existence, so I motioned to Janet to follow me and give him some space. I felt bad about it for a bit, but Janet wasn't about to let it dampen her mood. We went off somewhere alone and left him to his thoughts, hopped on the good foot and did the nasty, and laid there for an hour or two, letting the time pass. Eventually, we got dressed, packed up, and returned to the travel plaza. Queenie still sat there by the awning. I asked him how he was holding up.
Queenie: I dunno, man... I just miss Sarah a lot. And I know I've been running with you guys for a few days now, but I don't think I can keep hanging around like a third wheel, especially since you guys are all fucking cute with each other and all that shit. I think I'm gonna turn around, and see if she won't take me back.
No hard feelings here, my brother. Go get your woman. We divided up the bank we had and gave him his share, and I bought him a beer for the road from my own portion. (Somebody usually plays bank and manages all the funds for the group. It's a common courtesy that if friends are to part ways, the bank is divided. This is not always observed, depending upon 1 - who is banking, and 2 - how they feel about the other person. I however, thought, and still think highly of Queenie.) He stood up, grabbed his things, and walked away from the truck stop to the onramp going back east. Janet and I would continue along on our own due west.
The day was getting late, so we decided to hit it again in the morning, and retired to the bush. When the sun rose the next day, we wasted no time, getting to the highway ramp, and caught a lift all the way through from someone going on a long haul to Montana. Somewhere in Billings, we posted up for a bit while we calculated our next move. We were just flying blind at this point, for no reason due west. I figured I would reach out to my boy back in California and see if, well, maybe he had some more work for me. I knew it was way early, and there probably wasn't much going on, but he had a good amount of property, trusted my judgement, and if he had something to do, we could make money. Regrettably, there was nothing going on out there, so we just kind of shrugged our shoulders and sat in place. WIthout Queenie, I didn't really bust out the dice, either, because, well, trying to play an RPG with 2 people just isn't that fun. Janet didn't seem to mind too much. I think she was just using it as leverage to ERP. which, coming from her, didn't bother me at all and I was totally willing to oblige, but, well, I'm not going to whip out dice for that. Instead we spent our time hustling bucks on the street. She played a fiddle, I had a guitar, and we could turn a healthy few bucks between us because we were both competent. Seemingly stuck, with the wind taken out of our sails, we sat tight and made money.
I've never liked reversing my direction. I refuse to do it. I don't know why. Maybe it's a superstition, but after I've started going one way, I won't just turn around. If I'm going East, I'm not going to turn around and start going West. I may turn North or South, but I won't just say, you know what, let's do a 180. It was almost 5 days of living in Billings before the winds of travel decided to blow at our back again. Sick of the town, we said fuck this, climbed aboard the back of a freighter, and got pulled off by a cop maybe 20 miles later at some little town in the middle of nowhere. At first we cursed our luck, but it seemed it was a blessing in disguise. We trudged to the freeway and sat down, and within minutes, a bright yellow cargo van pulled over. Behind it came a battered and busted RV. Could it be?
Hippies. A whole fucking caravan of hippies heading the direction we were trying to go.
I'm not very fond of hippies at all. Rainbow family, grateful dead family, non-affiliated... Doesn't matter. I hate patchouli and if somebody unironically calls me brother bear I get a tension headache and hearing the Grateful Dead gives me an aneurysm. Drum circles always play the same shitty song, crystals won't heal you, and windchimes cause cancer. Conflict and struggle is the truth of the world and peace is a pipe dream. Natural selection, baby. Nevermind that I've had things stolen from me by hippies. Nevermind that somebody who tells you that they love you like you're their family within moments of meeting you is probably trying to extort you for something. Nevermind that every crusty worth his weight in ramen packets knows that a traveling caravan of hippies makes the locals overwhelmingly hostile to the next vagabond that comes through. I could go on. I generally despise hippies.
Are some hippies alright? Some, yes. Was I willing to chance it with these people? We were in smalltown bumfuck Montana and the sheriff already hated our faces just for existing there. I swallowed my pride, and scanned the crowd for familiar faces, of which I saw none. Still, they were willing to give us a ride. They were headed all the way to Oregon. Apparently, there was a gathering going on.
What's a gathering? Exactly what it sounds like. It's a gathering of hippies. I had found myself at one a few years before this. It was known as Black Sheep. It was basically hobo christmas in the middle of the desert for everyone who had nowhere to go, and it was a very small, intimate experience. It was kind of cool because it was tiny in its scope, and I met some genuinely cool people there. Black Sheep is not "officially recognized" by the greater hippie community that does these gatherings, however, for who knows what reason. Maybe it's because people drink there and nobody gives them grief for it, while at any other gathering, you can smoke all the pot and eat fucktons of acid, but god forbid you open a beer. They get pissy about alcohol. It's weird, I know.
Well, like I said, these hippies were on their way to a gathering known as Nationals. This is the big one. This is ground zero for hippies. You can't throw a stone in the woods without hitting some drug addled free spirit shaman with hella heady tradeables who recognizes your spirit and is loving you, sister squirrel. They asked us if maybe we wanted to come with them.
We definitely wanted the ride. The sheriff made it entirely apparent we'd be going to jail if he caught us around the next day, and Janet had a dog with her. We needed to leave. We took that ride, and got a spot in the RV with the rest of the crew. These hippies, thankfully, were not the most insufferable ones that I have met. They were comparatively normal, to our good fortune, and we actually got along rather swimmingly with them. Then they asked the same question an hour or two in to the ride: do you guys want to come to Nationals?
Janet and I looked at each other, and contemplated what the Hell we ought to do. We had nothing going on anywhere else in the world, these people weren't the most awful people in the world - we would probably camp with them, and who doesn't like a week or two in the national forest? Why the fuck not? It's not like either of us would come to regret this decision, right? Let's fucking go to nationals I guess.
We enjoyed the ride, helping them to get gas and food and all that good stuff, and as the ride dragged on, I once again, busted out the RPG dice. I turned to the nearest hippie, and with a smile, told him, you wake up naked in a field with a rock. What do you do?
I would like to thank my wonderful patrons for their support as I not only compile these tales for you, but write my RPG, Blood & Thunder. Special thanks to TatoFerret and Sillibits, and all due respect to the man himself, ReddX, for reading these stories. Thank you for helping me to live the dream.
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The Real Rules of Golf *

The Dragon

[Next]
Andelia was proud of herself. In the past 200 years of acquiring contestants and beasts for the Galactic Arena, she had never come across so fine and rare a specimen. The planet she had found him on was in an out of the way “undiscovered” system that she had paid good money for the information on. The initial scan of the species revealed that they had only just left the surface of their planet recently (an honestly impressive feat given their level of technology and punishing amount of gravity). They had been discovered through a scan of background radio waves on a nearby potential colony. Some sensor tech had smudged the results of the scan and sold the original to pay off some debts to some friends in high places. Friends that Andelia happened to share.
So, there she was using those same radio wave transmissions to find herself a good candidate. The problem was they were all so short, high gravity and all that, and she needed some “wow factor,” something that would really pull in the big crowds and give some decent returns on this rather expensive excursion. Lucky for her these little monkeys (calling themselves humans) had many contests of strength and ability, and they LOVED entertainment.
The list of potential contestants kept growing and growing.
She would definitely have to come back if the first one went well.
That was when she found him.
The perfect choice.
He was young but nearing his middle age. He was well known for his prowess but, would not cause an uproar if he mysteriously vanished or died. There was also plenty of footage from his native media which would make for great advertising on his skills and abilities, he even had a stage name!
Andelia specialized in low-impact capture, meaning she could remove a specimen form its environment without drawing suspicion that “aliens come from the sky and steal people!” She used one of the oldest tactics in the book. Faking the specimen’s death. For this particular creature that would be a more difficult, however, not impossible task, as the native species had a large collection of information of their anatomy and medicine from which to construct the necessary toxin.
And so, she killed him…not literally but you get the point.
The Games Master was surprised when Andelia wanted the monkey thrown into the main brackets without testing him first. It was a poor investment to place a rookie with the professionals unless they were fodder for the early rounds. Seeing as though the monkey was laughably small he acquiesced her request and offered her a 15% cut of earning for the match since she was undoubtedly going to lose money on her find and he felt bad for the old reptilian huntress.
The next day they brought the human out of his medically induced coma. They put him in a cell below the arena away from the other contestants at the request of Andelia. She didn’t want any of the veteran fighters selling out her secret to their sponsors. She made sure to bring enough equipment and decoration from the human’s home world, including food, so as not to make him suspect of his current situation. The gravity was only slightly less than his home planet inside the arena, and there was little she could do to change that. She had built translation software based on the media he had been a part of and spoke to him shortly after he awoke.
“Everyone you know believes you are dead,” Andelia said, “you have been brought to this place to fight, to entertain. There is no escape besides victory or death. Prove yourself a champion and freedom may be yours.”
He didn’t move. He didn’t say a word. He simply got out of his cot, sat on the ground with his legs crossed beneath him and started breathing, slowly and rhythmically.
Andelia had watched enough footage of him to know that he was preparing himself. She was gratified beyond words. There wouldn’t have to be beatings to make him fight. No starvation or other torture. She had chosen well.
Pleased with this development, she returned to the Games Master to see who he would be fighting. She knew his prospects weren’t bright given her cut of the profits, and she also knew that this cycle had some big names that had returned to the Arena. When she reached his office all of her earlier gratification had turned to nervousness. She knocked on the real wood door.
“Come in!” he sounded in a bad mood. “Andelia I was hoping you would stop by soon, please take a seat.”
As usual, the proud huntress, despite her age, chose to remain standing.
“Very well,” he continued, “I have good news and bad news. The good news is you will probably make your money back on the first round. The bad news is your little monkey is going up against Champion Al’Xerd.”
Silence hung in the air between them.
She had wasted her time. No one had beaten Al’Xerd in 30 years. The 4-meter-tall champion was a legend having won his freedom twice over, she didn’t know that he had returned again.
“Your right. At least I’ll make my money back.” She left before he could say anything.
Andelia walked solemnly back to the human’s cell, at least he deserved some parting words before the match. When she arrived and looked through the viewing port, the little creature’s peace was obvious. He hadn’t moved. She watched him for a few minutes before keying the speaker to the cell, “Die well little one.” Andelia unkeyed the intercom and turned to leave when she heard him speak for the first time, “As you think, so you shall become.” The human’s cryptic wisdom would not save him from slaughter, she thought as she walked away.
The viewing booth was nice, but not too nice. There were several other hunters and huntresses who all acknowledged Andelia due to her age and experience in the trade. She pulled a seat near the front left corner of the viewing booth, where she could get a good view without being disturbed. Meanwhile the other hunters were talking about how the season would unfold and were placing steep bets on their captures, as was typical.
The Announcer descended from the central viewing booth, reserved for VIPs, into the center of the arena. His voice echoed out across the stone and sand, “WELCOME ONE AND ALL TO THE GRAND GALACTIC ARENA! THIS YEAR BRINGS PROMISE AND SURPIRSE LIKE NEVER BEFORE WITH THE RETURN OF ONE OF YOUR FAVORITES FOR THE FIRST ROUND: CHAMPION AL’XERD!”
The Arena shook with excitement and thunderous cheering as the champion exited from the side of the arena opposite to Andelia. He was a Tar’Meer from their outer worlds, born and bred to fight for the glory of the Arena. Tar’Meer were bipedal, and easily one of the largest species in the galaxy. With a large set of horns upon his mighty head, and tusks that protruded a half meter from his mouth, he was terrifying to behold. His thick skin protected his enormous muscles, which rested upon his massive frame. He was adorned in precious metals and wielded no weapons, at least none that weren’t natural. He had four arms with four fingers on each hand, each finger was capped with a long razor-sharp claw. His tail nearly hung down to his split hooves, which had ended the lives of many contestants. He wore no armor, as his speed was unmatched. The odds were strongly in his favor no matter who fought him.
“May as well go for broke,” Andelia whispered to herself as she wagered all 15% of her earnings on her little human winning, it was good luck anyway.
The human definitely brought a wow factor when he entered…since everyone thought it was a joke. And a funny one at that too. Even the Champion joined in on the taunting and laughing as the little human strode across the floor towards him.
“I GUESS ALL THAT IS LEFT IS COWARDS AND CHILDREN TO FIGHT ME!” Al’Xerd yelled to the crowd, turning his back on the little biped that barely reached the top of his leg. “LET ME GUESS,” he turned around and squatted down to the little human’s height, resting on his massive haunches, “YOU GOT LOST LOOKING FOR YOUR…”
Before the champion could finish, the little human moved faster than the cameras could track and pushed his hand through the Champions throat and pulled his vocal cords out along with his windpipe.
“Showing off is the fool’s idea of glory.” He dropped the champions throat on the ground and with a kick almost as fast as the strike before, sent the champion flying back several meters onto his back where he writhed on the ground choking on his own blood. The Arena fell silent as the little human turned to make his way back to his cell without pause.
The Arena would soon understand the way of the Dragon.

Day 1

Keeper of the necronomicon part 5

Under the sea
We travelled for hours under water covering a great distance, in the Nautilus the legendary submarine who had once been piloted by Captain Nemo on his undersea adventures.
The genius Sasquatch had of course made some improvements to the submarine, making it more fit for under water warfare.
These upgrades would come on handy soon…
In the submarine was me the keeper of the Necronomicon
The book of the dead made out of human flesh and written in human blood, the book I had lost and the book we must now recover, Lubna my love the Arabic woman with telekinetic powers, Poseidon king of the sunken city of Atlantis, Sanna the vampiric angel wearing sir Lancelot’s armor, and of course the bigfoot was piloting the submarine.
-You know what bigfoot, we never got your name, what is it? I a sked my hairy apelike friend with feet the size of newborn babies.
-We sasquatches, are not much for names, you can call me Chewie like my favorite Star Wars character.
-Well then, Chewie it is! Me and Lubna said at the same time.
We both joined each other in laughter.
-I was thinking maybe you should let the vampire girl suck some of your blood, you have the mad Arabs blood in you so you can grab the Necronomicon but only you, it would be most useful if Sanna would also gain the ability.
-Excellent idea! King Poseidon liked the idea.
-I concur, as long as the vamp/angel girl don’t mind? Chewie asked.
-Oh, I don’t mind at all, Sanna removed her helmet and began to suck blood from my arm, it felt strange and funny as she drained me, but I was alright. My blood was joined with the blood of Christ that she had already sucked from Jens, the man had aided us in our quest but met with an most unfortunately end at the end of the sharp tip of the spear of destiny, the very same spear that had penetrated his ancestor Jesus Christ.
It was something poetic about it.
-But wait, I wont turn into a vampire now, and wait again maybe you SHOULD turn me into a vampire, maybe the whole team? Having the whole team gaining the skills of vampires could prove useful. I told the girl.
-I honestly don’t know… But I think not, not every vampire can in fact make other vampires, if we could the world would have been overrun with vampires long ago, only vampire overlords… Nosferatu like Van Hellsing was before he died, can in fact make other vampires….
-Oh, the irony the greatest vampire hunter turned into a vampire himself, I wonder how that happened? Poseidon the Atlantean king asked.
-That is one of many things I wish to discuss with that bearded bastard and old fool, Merlin! I proclaimed in anger.
-You and me both buddy, but now its time for action enemy approaching, great white sharks, BIG ones, a snaketopus, and a small army of squid men up ahead.
-What the fuck is a “snaketopus”? I asked bewildered
-Just as it sounds, a giant octopus, with snake arms instead of tentacles and a giant mouth with sharp teeth, it has been terrorizing the deeps and eating many of my people alive.
LET’S KILL THIS FUCKER!
Time for some action
Chewie was piloting the sub and I of course was the shooter,
Rest of the team helped with launching the torpedoes.
First two torpedoes hit the head of two of the ugly snake arms, killing them both, exploding and turning the water red with the blood from the heads and blown of tentacles filling the water… the sharks were hungry and could sense the blood from miles away.
There were hammer headed sharks, saw sharks, tiger striped sharks, grey sharks, but worst of all the great white shark.
They, were all fighting for the blown of tentacle bits, and biting at the snake-topus leftover tentacles still attached
To its hideous body. Some of the sharks fought each other for the leftovers. The great white decided to end the fighting and bit a smaller shark in half.
I aimed at the snaketopuses hideous body/mouth in the middle between its arms, I hit it right in its open ugly mouth and it exploded from the inside out, filling the sea water with its bloods and guts, hideous intestines.
-Great work kid, that shot was one in a million! Chewie, the sasquatch praised my skill full shot.
Wow, that bigfoot REALLY loved star wars , who would have knew?
-But, chewie please tell me you don’t love the Disney movies? I asked him.
-Fuck, Disney, fuck Kathleen Kennedy and fuck marREYsue,
The force was ALWAYS partly female, Princess Leia was a powerful a strong woman way before rey and rose tico.
My man. This Bigfoot was a man of culture. Princess Leia in that golden bikini in jabbas palace was when I learned a woman, can be more interesting than a Nintendo game.
Just a boy becoming a man. But I was not going to ask a fucking big foot about his fapping habits, if bigfoots even did those things, I was not going to find out in the middle of an epic under water battle anyway. I guess some things are better left alone anyway.
-I am summoning my comrades in arms, the great whales.
Poseidon the king of Atlantis. Could of course command sea life with his mind, and I know people give Aqua man a rough time, but there is much more then fish living in the deep.
- The fucking sharks don’t listen to my command! They are all deemed traitors from now on by me, Poseidon king atlantis the sunken city, ruler of the seven seas.
The great whales came, orcas the black and white killer whale you might have seen at sea world, the big blue whales, gray whales with their humps on their backs, narwhal with their long spear like tusks, but most of all the MVP, the big kahuna, the blue whale biggest animal on planet earth.
Its heart is the size of Volkswagen beetle, it must eat four tons of krill each day to live, there were four of them, all hungry with open giant mouths opened and swallowing the army of squid men who opposed us in our quest to R`lyeh the stone prison of great CLUTHULU.
A yellow submarine appeared, it torpedoed one of the blue whales, sharks were fighting and biting each other just to get a taste of the whales sweet, sweet blown of flesh.
Mermaids were cutting sharks and poking their eyes with knives, some of them had underwater spear guns and shoot the sharks straight in the face, killing a few.
Atlanteans riding great sea horses cut the head of hammerhead sharks, and cut some of the smaller sharks in halves, but the great whites proved to big a challenge and some of them bit our men in two, and some were swallowed whole.
Chewie kept our sub out of harms way, and I kept shooting torpedoes, killing many great whites, the rest seemed scared and retreated, it appeared we had the upper hand,
But the yellow submarine was still out there.
Another blue whale was killed in action leaving us with two down and two alive, its giant body was floating dead in the water, massive amount of blood from the dead whale filled the water sending the sharks into a kill frenzy.
Poseidon summoned a powerful underwater current; the flow of water pulled the remaining squid men into the sharks kill zone.
Arms, legs and heads were all bitten of leaving torsos with missing body parts floating about.
One of the remaining blue whales opened its giant mouth and swallowed the leftovers of the dead squid men and the alive ones, they tried their hardest to keep swimming away from its giant mouth, but they were unsuccessful.
The mermaids summoned a pack of dolphins, and a group of dolphins can actually kill hammer sharks or tiger sharks by working together. Most of the smaller sharks were killed and the rest fled, leaving only the great whites and the yellow submarine as our opposing forces.
The squid men were all dead. Three great whites remained the were all attacking one great blue whale, the smaller whales had all left, the big blue whale swallowed half of a great white, the other two however ripped it apart…
And that’s when I saw it!
I took a chance shot, the torpedo went flying through the water for a great distance… and it HIT.
I sunk the enemies, damned sub marine. I wondered who was inside for a second, but there was no time to find out.
I blew the face of one of the great whites, only one remained and it proved no match for the great blue whale.
The whale sent the shark running… or eeerrrr…. Swimming.
Either way it fucked right of.
We were finally approaching our final destination….
R`lyeh home of great CLUTHULU the eldritch god forever sleeping there, waking him would end the world.
We must stop the bad guys and the cursed book The Necronomicon, The book of the dead back into safe hands again.
CALL OF CLUTHULU
Now we finally arrived at R`lyeh the stone prison/grave where dead CLUTHULU was dormant… dreaming for aeons.
Only a certain page in the Necronomicon hade the instructions of how to wake this Eldritch God, powerful enough to end the entire human race once and for all.
The sound of drums, flutes and banjos being played told me the ritual had begun. The air was filled with smoke, and what smelled like burned flesh, sacrifices of beautiful virgins’ girls of different ethnicities no doubt, one white skin like milk and hair like honey… Scandinavian.
One with luscious red lips and ebony skin.
One Asian with perfect bone structure and hair dark like the night.
And more, Bosnian, Romanian, European, Australian and so on…
All of them perfect beauties, to young to die with smooth skin no man or woman would ever have the pleasure of knowing.
The sight and smell sickened me!
The mysterious Cult of Cthulhu had been busy.
Damned bastards! Delusional mad men all of them.
Thinking they were in touch with god…
But great Cthulhu was no god, and even I could hear his call inside of my head now…
I almost went insane from the sensation of his tentacles reaching into my brain… oh the horror!
But I must resist, Lubna my love was still with me, we had to get her soon back. Had to… must. Get Abdi back.
Get the Necronomicon back. Let Cthulhu sleep, never to wake again. Sanna the vampire/angel was here to with her armor and the Excalibur sword. Chewie was with me holding a teleportation pad and what looked like a light sabre.
King Poseidon was with us too, but he was the only land walker of Atlantis being a half breed, his army was swimming in the waters fighting the deep ones, aided in their battle by great Moby the last of the blue whales.
King Poseidon’s greatest familiar, an animal with a spiritual connection to him, aiding him in his use of magic.
The ritual was more then just blood sacrifice the were also a perverse and filthy orgy going on…
I will spare you the nastiest descriptions dear reader.
But the participants were beautiful women of all races and ethnicities, men wearing dark red robes with face masks made of the bones from dead animals, squids, goats head, giant lizards and snakes. Trolls and giants even a cyclops with red skin and one big eye watching the action.
In the middle of all this was one of those demons with a living beard made out of snakes, he was holding hands with the reptilian woman who hade stolen the book of the dead from me. And she in turn held a knife to the throat of Abdi,
The young had the blood of the mad Arab Abdul Al-alhazared in him, same as myself and therefore could hold the book without it biting him.
Chewie the super intelligent sasquatch was working on the teleportation device, it would create a portal that would let an army of sasquatches come to our aid….
But fuck it was loud…
It made beeping sounds….
Beep…beep…beep…
And the cyclops turned its giant eyes to us, the eye turned bright red with hatred.
We had been spotted!
It was time for war.
Time to end this once and for all.
THE BIG FAT KILL
I dual wielded two p90s emptying out two 50 round clips of
Bullets into the enemy horde, shooting of their dicks, faces, hitting chests and tits spreading death all around me.
Then Lubna threw the grenades bodies exploded, arms, legs, heads and blown of torsos all came flying through the air.
Poseidon summoned a giant wave and it came crashing down sweeping the enemy troops away. First wave wipe out. But more was coming.
Sanna wielded the Excalibur in a two hand grip, holding it over her head, making it charge up with sun light and then swung it down creating a great wave of energy splitting the enemis bodies into two halves like when Darth Maul feel to his death, leaving only the groin and legs left standing.
Second wave defeated.
But the third one was upon us. Poseidon struck a troll in its ugly face with his mighty golden trident, the troll’s skull and eyes were penetrated, killing it in an instant. But now he struggled to get it loose, it was stuck in the enemy’s dead flesh. He quickly grabbed a knife trying to hack the head of the troll’s neck. He was not fast enough another troll gave him a punch to his ribs and crushed a few of them, he with great agility penetrated the trolls heart with his knife.
But one arrow from a crossbow wielding cult member hit his right shoulder, making him bleed blue blood onto the stone ground.
At least we knew he was not a reptilian shape shifter.
Lubna blew the face of one troll with her doublebarreled shotgun she was now wielding, and then quickly shot the fourth and last troll, ending its disgusting and foul stinking life. There were no more trolls. But plenty of humans led by a cyclops.
One single well aimed shot from my 357.MAGNUM revolver blinded the cyclops making it stampede its own troops to death. A killed the next five men with straight head and throat shots but now I was out of ammo. And the enemy kept coming! Sanna the angel had no time to recharge her magic sword she was in the middle of the enemy horde slicing down opponents left and right. One of the cult member lit her left wing on fire with a torch.
A lone crossbow arrow landed between king Poseidon’s eyes ending his life once and for all.
I pistol whipped one cult member, a naked female covered in blood, straight in her pretty face, knocking her teeth out.
Lubna levitated a rock in her smash and then kept smashing it into the naked woman’s face until there was not much left of it, just a red colored mess.
And then! Chewie lit his laser sword and began cutting heads of , reinforcements of sasquatch-es coming through the portal.
Chewie the bigfoot, led the charge.
-Forward my hairy friends, forward, kill the snake bearded man or demon, whatever he is we must get to book back.
CLUTHULU WAKES
-Come on you apes; you want to live forever? The silver backed sasquatch commanded his troops. He was the biggest one almost twice the size of a regular sasquatch, who were all just a bit taller than a big man. This thing was MASSIVE and had dark fur, contrasting with the rest of the packs brown fur. His one eye was bright red and the other one had been blinded by a cut, and he gritted his sharp teeth. He was ready for the slaughter. He commanded a pack of twenty sasquatches including himself and chewie,
They absolutely annihilated the enemy troops. Arms, and legs were ripped off, bones cracked, heads smashed, hearts ripped out and eaten while they were still beating. The sasquatches were fierce and relentless in their assault.
It was over very quickly, leaving a battlefield full of blood and enemy corpses scattered everywhere along with their body parts and smashed out brains and ripped out guts.
We only lost five sasquatches in the assault with fifteen still standing, including Chewie and the leader of the pack Scarface they called him. He had a big scar across his face,
and his right eye, he only needed one eye to be a murder machine though.
Now we only had the reptilian shape shifter and the snake bearded demon left the were standing in between two caves, I quickly ended the life of the reptilian with a magazine of straight head shots from my automatic pistol, leaving nothing left of it but exploded brains. Abdi the young Arab boy/demon made his move, now free from the demons grasp he threw the Necronomicon into the burning fires where a young virgin had been sacrificed. The book screamed in pain.
But the snake beard triumphant hold up a page from the book it had previously ripped out. He did not need to tell me it was the only paged he needed. He began chanting in a language unknown to man. Out from the caves came two monsters, from the left was the snake like head and body of a basilisk and from the other on the right side, appeared a monster that belonged in the secretive caves of Mexico.
It was huge and long, formed like a centipede, and its giant mouth was the size of a cave opening, these cave dwellers usually was laying waiting for its prey inside of caves luring their unknowing victims into its foul mouth, pretending its ginormous, foul mouth was a cave opening, compulsion would cause it victims to move inside and come back, the simply could not stay away from its call.
The eyes of the basilisk made five sasquatches into stone statues with its monstrous gaze. It moved its disgusting yellow eyes towards Lubna …
But the woman was quick in thought and movement both,
She had a make up mirror and showed the basilisk its monstrous face in the mirror, it turned to stone when it saw its own ugly face.
The rest of the big hairy apes walked straight into the mouth of the other monstrous creature; it was just like in that story told by that mad man… Night nator!
The sasquatches knew they were marching to their own doom, but they simply could not stay away. The compulsion was too strong. Only chewie and Scarface remained alive now. Chewie was striking at the monster’s tail, but his laser sword got overheated and exploded in his hand. His right hand was blown of, and now he was punching the monster with his remaining, furry left paw made into a fist.
Sanna cut the monster in half with legendary sword Excalibur, out of it cut of body dead sasquatches came spilling out, some was skeletal some were half digested, it was a disgusting sight and it made me puke. Now Scarface was walking into its mouth, I could see into its open mouth and saw that it had many hideous eyes inside… Scarface heard the call and his compulsion appeared to be driving him inside the monster’s mouth. It swallowed him…
And after a few seconds its exploded from the inside.
Scarface most have sacrificed himself and exploded a grenade. Only a disgusting mess was left of the monster now.
Abdi had transformed into his demon form and attacked the Snake bearded creature, what the fuck was this thing!?
Abdi had picked up a dagger from the ground and cut one of the snakes out of the snake demons face, trimming his beard a little.
Disgusting dark black blood spurted out from the cut of snake on the mans face straight onto Abdi`s body, the boy screamed in pain!
It appeared that the blood was like acid, it melted holes in the boy’s skin. He stomped the cut of snake head on the ground to death, it spurted into an explosion of blood, melting the boys foot.
The rest of us was in a trance like state… hearing the Call of Cthulhu and could not intervene. Abdi head butted the snake bearded demon putting his demon horn straight into the right eye socket of the snake demon, it had yellow insectoid eyes meaning each of its eyes consisted of thousand of smaller eyes like an insect. Now one of those eyes were blinded. The dark black blood melted Abdi’s horn and the snakes in the beard all bit the boys face filling him with venom, the boy went for the throated and cut it, acid blood spurted into the boy’s face starting to melt it of showing the boys skull under his flesh. The snake bearded demon laughed, rubbing a finger with his blood on the page of the Necronomicon it died with a smile on its face, and the boy Abdi died screaming in pain and then…
great Cthulhu woke up from his eternal dead slumber.
ENDGAME
Great Cthulhu awakens from his eternal slumber, he was the most enormous being I had ever seen, standing taller than a tower like empire state, its monstrous belly the size of a mountain its tentacled beard had tentacles even longer than the great kraken, longer than the anaconda snakes living in Africa`s jungle.
It was clear to me as soon as this being woke his sleeping brothers, they would lay waste to humanity in no time.
Cthulhu grabbed the great blue whale Moby in its right hand and formed a fist smashing the great whale to pieces. Another terror from the deep rose.
KAIJU! The great lizard monsters. This monster was the Reptilians back up plan, they thought this Godzilla-like being could stand a chance against great Cthulhu. It was a head shorter than the squid bearded monster and it bit Cthulhu straight in its neck. Cthulhu began to drip dark red blood from its wound filling the ocean underneath it.
Maybe the Illuminati was on to something, when the nuke plan had backfired on them, maybe this giant reptilian would be able to stand toe to toe against great CTULHU.
But I had a very bad feeling about this. If I had to place a bet on this clash of the titans I would wager on the squid-god.
Cthulhu placed its hands on the great reptilian’s face and stuck its hideous thumbs straight into the yellow eyes of the oversized lizard monster. The great KAIJU roared in pain.
Cthulhu began to strangle to kaiju monster by wrapping its eldritch tentacled beard against the reptile’s windpipe trying to suffocate the monster. The reptile hit the eldritch god with a haymaker into its great belly and Cthulhu retaliated with an uppercut to the reptile’s jaw, making the lizard bite its own tongue of.
The clash of the giant monsters began to split R`lyeh into two pieces, their blows were so powerful that they caused a great cataclysm.
A giant snake from Yig was summoned by the Kaiju it appeard to be its familiar. A monster bound to it that gave it spiritual strength, now it came to aid great kaiju in this battle for life or death for all humans living on this planet.
The snake wrapped itself around Cthulhu’s throat and began to suffocate the monster like a boa constrictor.
Maybe we could win this after all.
Out from the dead carcass of the cave monster a hideous cocoon was birthed and out of that cocoon an even more hideous sight was spawned… Nyarlohotep the tentacled god we had defeat in the battle for Excalibur what seemed like a very long time ago when so many of our friends where still alive, we lost so many lives among the way. And now this abomination was back.
-I come in peace humans! I am on your side. If Cthulhu destroys all humans, there will be no one left for me to torture! I am a malignant god, like a bad kid with a magnifying glass, burning ants. And all of humanity are like ants to me. And you did surely not think you could defeat me so easily?
What the tentacled headed monster said rang true to my ears. He was on our side after all. And yes, defeating him HAD seemed too easy.
Cthulhu grabbed the snake of Yig and ripped it into two halves, it died in an instant. And then he grabbed the bottom and top jaws of the reptile’s face and began to rip it apart… after some struggling, he was victorious. The great kaiju died a most painful death.
-Human grab the book of the dead, you know what you MUST do if I am not successful in calming great Cthulhu.
The eldritch abomination Nyarlohotep spoke before trying to communicate with the world ending squid god.
I grabbed the book from the flames. I could only pray Nyarlohotep to be successful or I would have to pay the ultimate price…
Great Cthulhu swatted Nyarlohotep like a fly.
-Do it! No mother should live longer than their child anyway! Lubna commanded me.
I grabbed the Necronomicon and a dagger and stabbed my beloved straight in her heart.
Blood magic, I had to pay in blood to the demon to grant my wish. The goat headed demon Baphomet appeared in front of me.
-Your wish will be granted human! For the cost of her soul and yours both, two lovers burning in hell eternally tormented together.
-At least we will be together. I spoke.
-As you wish! The demon grabbed Lubnas dead body and ripped it apart, blood spraying everywhere and he sucked the soul out of her. Then he began binding Cthulhu to his will… after some struggling the eldritch god began to go to sleep, like a hideous, monstrous baby.
Me, Sanna the angel and chewie the big foot all went to the submarine Nautilus and went back to the sunken city of Atlantis. When we where there I said goodbye to my friends and alone walked into the portal to the house that does not exist. I remain here into the end of my days, no evil can enter this house.
I am the keeper of the Necronomicon and I will keep the book of the dead out of evil hands forever.
THE END.

I shook on a $5K bet that I would change my mind, sucks to be him.

Yukino and 8man Part 2 - their relationship

This one is for all the Yukinofags lol. Allow me to explain why Yukino and 8man are so infatuated with each other. Unlike with any other pairing in the story, if you were to ask Yukino and 8man why they love each other so much, they’d probably each write you multiple volumes. For 8man that’d probably fill several bookshelves. What if you asked Yui why she likes 8man? Who knows? He’s her hero, I suppose? She doesn’t get half the things he says. I've linked prior posts at the end.

How does 8man perceive Yukino?

The first thing 8man notices about her is obviously her physical appearance, which he was immediately captivated by. While for the other girls, he’s only remarked on their conventional sex appeal from breasts to panties, for Yukino, he frequently eulogizes every part of her body, from her calves to her fingers to her hair. It’s pretty obvious that she’s the one that he’s most physically attracted to, but considering Yukino is canonically the most beautiful girl in the school, that’s hardly surprising.
First impression
Although his initial impression of Yukino was quite negative (her beauty notwithstanding), he immediately recognized the fact that she’s different from everyone else that he’s encountered thus far – she doesn’t mince her words. Whereas while the other students, especially those from 8man’s middle school, also disliked him, they would hide that disdain behind a veil of shallow amity. At the very least, he respected Yukino for her candor and sincerity; she would never feed him sweet lies out of expediency or aversion to conflict. For that reason alone, he wanted to become her friend. Sincere animosity is infinitely preferable to insincere cordiality (*ahem* Japanese social norms *ahem*).

Consequently, 8man made Yukino one of the sole exceptions to his “pathological” cynicism. He was willing to take Yukino at her every word, which was why he started thinking that Yukino was a girl who never lied and was never insincere. After all, if that were true, he has 0 reason to activate his defense mechanism against her.
This is precisely why he felt so comfortable around her. Recall during the “date” when they were looking for presents for Yui’s birthday; when Yukino said that she would allow him to pretend to be her boyfriend, 8man immediately accepts her at her word. To him, she fully means every word she says.
He also loves to banter with her. I have a strong suspicion that he goes out of his way to say stupid shit just to make her pay attention to him and throw him a playful insult. Insincere animosity is also preferable to insincere cordiality. She always has the upper hand in these trashtalking matches, however, and I believe he enjoys losing, so long as it makes her happy. Meanwhile, other people generally respond to his idiotic comments with awkwardness laughter (Yui, for example).
- He obviously knows that none of her insults are sincere – they’re just bantering. But it is important to note that he does not need to engage his “pathological” cynicism against Yukino ever, which is why he feels at ease around her. He can relax his guard.
- “Maybe that’s why, whenever we exchange words like this, it always feels refreshing and pleasant.”

Exemption from "pathological" cynicism
Interestingly enough, 8man exempted Yukino so hard, he actually treated her to the reverse of “pathological” cynicism, which would be false idolatry. He held her up to be the pinnacle of the loner ideal, something he has not achieved himself. He obviously notices her excellence and virtue in everything she does, and he admires her for it – how could he not? She could do things much better than any normie with their superficial friends. If she is so great, then that validates his own loner pride! For him, she became the living proof that being a loner is NOT a detriment! That was precisely why he could not let Yukino so easily yield to peer pressure to accept help and “work together” when she was being overwhelmed during the cultural festival planning committee.

Yukino assures him during the tennis match, “you know, right…? I might dish out insults and abuse, but I will never dish out falsehoods.”
8man monologues, “yeah, I know… The only liars here were myself and them (the normies).”

Of course, this whole illusion was dispelled when 8man found out that Yukino had withheld the fact that she knew him from the car accident. He felt betrayed, but ultimately, he was disappointed in himself – he sworn that he would always activate his defense mechanism (“pathological” cynicism) against everyone, and the fact that he exempted her and was disappointed in her (and by extension, himself for exempting her) was a failure on his part. He knows that he’s being a hypocrite for holding her to such an impossibly high standard when he himself is a prolific liar!
How 8man sees Yukino's imperfections
Over time, his feelings for her would only strengthen, even as he learned more about Yukino, that her “unshakable” resolve has always been an aspirational façade. Yukino is human, after all, with her fair share of flaws, weaknesses, and insecurities. What made her truly unique in his eyes is that she always strives for excellence in the proper and righteous manner – again, she’s the Harvey Dent to his Dark Knight. While 8man had to resort to underhanded tactics and deceit, Yukino always took the high road, even if it came at a cost. She represented all that is good in the world, since she was one of the few people in his life that possessed the universal virtues, i.e. diligence, honesty, sincerity, resolve, perseverance, temperance, benevolence, magnanimousness, righteousness, selflessness, wittiness, etc. In fact, I’d wager that her flaws only made her seem more human and attainable for 8man. Perhaps she couldn’t always live up to her high-minded ideals, but the fact that she always strives so earnestly towards them is more than enough to move his heart.
The lengths this mad lad would go...
8man has pretty much always been in love with Yukino, and his actions show it. If he’s not off doing something stupid to protect/reinforce his loner pride, he’s out there moving mountains to save/help Yukino. I’ll save the co/dependency discussion for another post.

“Did Yukino just express her absolute confidence in me during this tennis match? Oh yeah, it’s on. I’m pulling out all the stops here.”
“Gamer club playing strip poker? I’ll strip down to my underwear before Yukino has to take off more than her blazer.”
“Some group of girls is bullying a girl that reminds me of Yukino? Have fun feeling the pain of betrayal from your own supposed friends lol. No, I don’t care if you’re elementary school kids.”
“Some sweaty judo club member is going to have a match against Yukino? I’ll abandon my entire carefully thought out plan to make sure they don’t lay a single grubby finger on her.”
“Sagami screwed over Yukino during the cultural festival preparation? Prepare to feel my vindictive wrath as I demolish her self-confidence.”
“Yukino bet everything on the line that I would succeed in finding that loser Sagami? There is no way in hell I can afford to fail now – there’s nothing I won’t do to succeed.”
“I can’t let Yukino become student council president. What if I lose my only excuse to be at her side? What if she overworks again and neglects her health?”
“I robbed Yukino of an opportunity she might have genuinely desired. I can’t bear to make her confront what could have easily been hers had it not been for my unscrupulous meddling.”
“I will absolutely not allow anyone to deny Yukino her agency, and that includes you, Yui, who’s always been so quick to pull emotional appeals on her.” This was at the end of S2 at the aquarium – 8man did that exact thing during the first prom, however. That was his emotions leading him astray, in my opinion.

Yukino's request
When it was Yukino’s turn to make her own request to the service club at the end of S2/start of S3, 8man strongly supports her resolve to finally assert her own dream of succeeding her father, or at least make an honest, transparent attempt instead of secretly brooding her own indecisiveness when it comes to her own destiny. However, when she decided that she wants to do shut down the service club and also plan the first prom without his prom, his conviction wavered. He was torn between his love for her and doing the right thing – he was insecure about his and her ability to stay together after the prom, so, in a momentary lapse of reason, he tried to convince himself with mental gymnastics to help her by going against her. In the end, nobody was fooled – not him, not Yukino, not Haruno. At that point, he was willing to let her go, if she thinks that it was for the best – it was her decision, after all, and he’s already sworn to respect her agency, as much as it rent his heart asunder. You know what they say about loving someone is to be willing to let them go?
We all know how the final two episodes went. 8man realizes that Yukino’s decision wasn’t genuine. He respects her decision, but that doesn’t mean he has to agree – this is where he pulls the second prom to decisively refuting codependency (will be discussed in a future post) and also leave himself no excuses other than to finally reveal to her his true feelings for her. Something supposedly so intense that the word “love” cannot hope to begin to capture it, or so he says lol. Considering how far this guy is willing to go, I wouldn’t bet against it.

How does Yukino perceive 8man?

We’ll never know how Yukino sees 8man physically, but at least we know that she didn’t deny his claim that he has a nice face, lol. That’s all I can say on that matter. You can also argue that she is, in fact, attracted to his weird eyes, considering her strong affinity for another “character” with weird eyes…
First impression
Initially, I’d say her impression of him is indeed quite negative. His philosophy directly clashes against her ideals of virtue and excellence. Whereas Yukino strives for excellence in all things, 8man immediately denies that his perceived weaknesses are weaknesses at all (see: loner pride). In complete contrast to the girls who hide their own incompetence by bullying Yukino in the past due to their jealousy of her excellence, 8man recognizes his own weaknesses, even if he does so by reframing them as strengths. There’s something admirable about his stubbornness, even if it is a bit misplaced. “I don’t particularly hate that part of you that affirms weakness like that.” He responds, “Yeah, I don’t hate it either. In fact, I just love that part of myself.”
Funny enough, a bit early for her character development, the first time Yukino relied on someone in the story was during the tennis match. As I’ve discussed in the post on Yukino, she doesn’t fully start relying on those close to her until during the cultural festival. Although during the tennis match she had no other choice than to rely on him (since she ran out of stamina), it seems implausible to me that she would feed him a bold faced lie just to get him motivated, “this man here will finish the match, so please lose gracefully.” She at the very least respected his competence – when he wills something, he usually makes it happen, for better or worse.
First spark of rapport
The first time when Yukino started to warm up to 8man was the pivotal moment during the “date” to buy Yui a present. No, I’m not referring to when he complimented her wearing the apron. When they encountered Haruno, due to his powerful “pathological” cynicism, 8man was able to immediately realize that she was wearing a façade and wasn’t taken in by her superficial charms, whereas a lesser man would have been. This fact made a huge positive impression on Yukino – here was a guy who shared her desire to be true to oneself and despised superficiality as much as she does. Not only that, he is the first guy to implicitly PREFER her over her sister and recognize her value!

Yukino responds to 8man commenting on the uniqueness of Haruno, “Mm. An attractive face and figure, a top student, accomplished in both literary and martial arts, a woman of many talents – not to mention a kind and gentle personality… I doubt any human being could match her perfection. Everyone showers her with praise…”
8man replies, “Huh? That doesn’t lessen your own achievements. What’s with the faux modesty? […] When I said she was something, I was talking about – how do you say it? That reinforced exoskeleton of a façade. From the way she acts, your sister’s like a nerd’s wet dream. She can brighten up the mood when she talks, she’s got good manners, she’s always got a big smile, she can even talk to me like a normal person. […] Ideals are ideals. They’re not reality. That’s why something about her seems phony.”

Developing romantic feelings
In the early parts of the story, Yukino tries to keep 8man and Yui at a distance due to her loner ideal. Over time, she starts warming up to them and realizes that they can be relied on for aid and vice versa. When she had that initial falling out with 8man over her lie by omission about how she said she didn’t “know” him when they first met, she thought her relationship with him once again reset to mere acquaintances. However, she was once again pleasantly surprised when he stood up for her during the cultural festival. His comment simultaneously humiliated Sagami and “convinced” the other committee members to return to work by sacrificing his own image, but in exchange, he lightened Yukino’s burden. I believe this was the moment when her feelings for him were kindled. Here was a guy who, despite having had a falling out with her, came right back to support her in her time of need, even at the expense of himself.

During the actual cultural festival itself, Yukino commented on her sister’s skills when they watched her performance, “It may not look like it, but I hold my sister in high regard, you know. I thought I wanted to be like that too.”
8man once again pulls an inadvertently smooth line on Yukino, “…You don’t have to be like that. Just stay the way you are.” It was a validation of who Yukino is as a person, and it was super effective!
And when they were missing Sagami for the announcement of winners, Yukino once again shows her absolute faith in 8man by betting it all on his success.
Yukino was also impressed by the fact that 8man’s methods at the roof of the school actually spared Sagami from the shame of her shirking her duties. At this point, she isn’t quite aware how self-destructive his self-sacrificial tendencies are.
Yukino starts realizing that 8man’s methods often have merit as well, even though she was so dismissive of them earlier in the plot. Yukino’s always been a bit too naïve for her own good, which makes her vulnerable to malicious actors – 8man’s “pathological” cynicism is a perfect and natural complement to her, especially against people like Sagami.

Returning the favor
After the cultural festival, 8man was plagued by malicious gossiping following his nuclear strike on Sagami’s ego on the roof of the school. This greatly troubled Yukino for obvious reasons (cut from the anime). Thus, she resolved to nominate Sagami once more to lead the athletics festival to help her regain her confidence and thereby stopping the gossiping. She goes pretty far in this endeavor, even willing to backstop Sagami if she ends up dropping from her duties again, all for 8man’s sake in my opinion.
Putting his best interest first
Tobe’s confession request was when she truly started grasping how self-destructive 8man’s self-sacrificial tendencies were. Since she was already in love with him, she naturally could not bear to see him hurting himself, despite his claims to the contrary. She is also willing to risk him hating her when she emphatically repudiated his methods (whereas Yui was not able to do the same and instead enables his shitty behavior) – in other words, she was willing to put his best interest above her love for him, which is inherently a selfish longing. That’s pretty damn genuine, if I do say so myself.
When 8man tried to pull the same self-sacrificing shit during the Iroha election arc, Yukino again clashed with him in his best interest. Later on, she decided to run for student council president herself, and one major reason is obviously so that she can save him from himself.

Once more, she risks their relationship in his best interest by giving him that ultimatum after meeting him by chance when he was helping Iroha with the Christmas event. In essence, she absolves him of the responsibility to be considerate of her, almost tempting him to continue his shitty behavior, so long as he’s fully willing to relinquish their shared hatred of the superficial (and by extension, love of the genuine), which he’s obviously not willing to do.

The genuine
Then comes the genuine speech that moved Yukino to tears. This here is the guy whom she released from his “responsibility,” coming back to her all the same, asking for an even deeper relationship. In her eyes, he has reaffirmed the intensity of their shared belief of the genuine and that it is something worth struggling, fighting, and reaching for.
Yukino has always been considerate of Yui’s feelings for 8man as well, which only compounds on her hesitation to reveal her own feelings, since she’s never fallen in love with anyone else before. That’s why she struggled to hand 8man her Valentine’s Day chocolates.
Codependency?
At this point, Yukino is already head over heels for 8man, and she also respects his abilities greatly. She fully recognizes that there are times when his methods are more effective than hers. She hasn’t yet grasped that their combined efforts seem to render trivial even the most seemingly insurmountable problems (like the Christmas event and the second prom). However, she has internalized the belief that he is codependent on her and she is dependent on him, which is why she tries to host the first prom without his help. Again, she puts his perceived self-interest above her own selfish feelings (when I write “selfish,” I don’t mean to imply it is necessarily a bad thing). To break him from his supposedly pathological desire to “save” her all the time, she pushed him away with immense pain in her heart.
I suspect that she has always been aware that he has at least some feelings for her, for how else would she explain why he go so far for her, even beyond what Yui, her supposed best friend, would do? Either way, she attributes that to codependency and thus not genuine and by extension, must be destroyed. Nevertheless, we don't know for sure because we don’t have the same transparency into her mind as we do 8man.
Finale
Then comes the third time that 8man pulls her right back to him after they have a “falling out;” she just can’t get rid of this guy! This time, with no other pretext or ulterior motive for him associating with her, she has no choice but to believe that his love is genuine. See my explanation here. And once Yukino successfully pulls off the second prom to the surprise of her mother, she has finally achieved her objectives. “It was fine if you did things yourself, but that’s because you had to. By living your life without being a bother to anyone, for the very first time, you’d be able to ask for things from people. Once you’re able to live by yourself, for the very first time, you’d be able to walk alongside someone.”
Here’s part 1, Yukino’s development, analysis of final episode, the genuine, and analysis of 8man.

Windward - Chapter 1

Chapter: 2 3 4

“My wager’s on Shorn’s crew.”
Frigid wind whipped through Korin’s hair and tried to find its way through his coat, cold fingers searching for any purchase to leech what little body heat he had left. At the very least today was clear. Cloudless skies might not have been the ideal conditions for today’s operation, but it meant Korin was only cold, not cold and wet.
“Not his style,” Drell’s voice. Even inside his head it sounded as though was from a distance. Korin reached up to tug on his earpiece.
You’ll go –
“I’ll go deaf, blind, and a thousand other things I’m not even sure humans can get” he snapped, “I know I know.”
“You still messing with the worm?” it was Bool this time, “If you’d just leave it alone you’d forget it was even there.”
“Right,” Korin muttered, too quiet for anyone to hear. He was sure it was transmitted – the worm picked up any little sound you made, even your breathing. Supposedly it could even hear your heartbeat, but he had never managed to confirm it for himself. “It’s burrowed into my ear canal and I’m supposed to ignore it?”
Yes.
“Ah thanks, I was worried my question wasn’t rhetorical enough.”
You know how to remove it. If it bothers you so much just rip it out.
“Sound idea, the second lieutenant would love it.”
Then please quit the whining? I can already feel your discomfort, I don’t need the added commentary.
“It’s completely Shorn’s style,” Hetal was back on his theory, “Big haul, small crew, and this route crosses right through his territory.”
Korin looked to his left where he could just see the speck of black that was the large airman. Bare chested and wearing what could only charitably be called pants, it was easier to see the trailing haze of heat he left in his wake. One of the two Scorches in the squadron, no amount of cold could bother him. He could have flown into a block of ice and melted a path straight through. “Must be nice.”
You hate the worm? Imagine if you needed the bag too. Yeah, you’re welcome.
“Might keep my face warmer.”
“Only looks like his style if you’re a moron,” Cena far on the right wing joined the idle conversation. She was much too far for Korin to see, yet if she was looking he was sure she could make him out against the perfect sky. A Snap, she was one of the squadron’s lookouts. Korin never bothered listening to the specifics, but he knew her improved eyesight had something to do with the ability to turn her eyes into ice, or something?
Micro–lenses in the viscous fluid of her eyes that allow for the fine adjustments and focusing of light far beyond what the iris can manage.
“Yeah, that. Perfect team. You listen to the useless jabbering of the floraficers and I do all the flying, fighting, risking my life . . . wait, what do you do again?”
Listen to your grumbling. And give you the ability to fly. “Eh, sounds useless,” Korin grinned.
I should have let you fall. “He doesn’t just go for any big haul,” Cena continued, “Only the ones that he knows he can carry back without a ship. The Deliberate was porting masts. Try flying on your own with one of those tucked under your arm. No Titan’s managing that.”
“I’d still be willing to give it a try,” Raesh cut in, drawing several dry chuckles that echoed inside Korin’s head.
“I’d wave as you plummeted straight into the Mists.”
“Korin’d catch me.”
Korin laughed, “No I’d wave too, just from right next to you.”
“But the Puckle’s carrying small arms down there. Even Korin’d be able to carry an armful.”
He opened his mouth to retort but Hetal did not give him the time, “Just saying I’ll be bagging some of Shorn’s crew by the end of this operation, maybe even the pirate lord himself.”
“Mouths shut, kids,” Second Lieutenant Ayla cut through the chatter, her voice louder than all the others, “Puckle’s coming up on the turn. Cena, Ghaal, Stick, Gretch, climb to ceiling and keep those eyes of yours on the scan. Hetal you’re on Cena, Kip stick to Stick, keep ‘em safe. Titans on me, we’re kissing mist. Korin, go as low as you can before your worm dies. Something comes at us from below I wanna know about it.
A chorus of “Heard” stuttered through Korin’s ear as he added his own. Following her lead, he and the rest of the Titans tilted towards the Mists below, splitting as the Snaps and Scorches started climbing. The formation closed around him, and Korin’s unaided eyes saw his squadmates clearly for the first time since jumping from the Puckle’s deck.
Titans every one of them, the air behind them crackled with electricity, small arcs of blue light sparking through the sky. Raesh pulled up to his right, a monster of a man at two-hundred centimeters and one-hundred thirty kilograms. That anything could lift his frame from the ground was a testament to his wyrm’s fortitude. Or it had a thing for punishment. Curled snuggly on it’s bondmate’s broad back, the translucent figure yawned like a cat, stretching as the furious wind of their descent howled around them. More an outline than flesh and blood, its shape was defined by thin streaks of lightning. Looking closer the lines pulsed with a steady rhythm that was mirrored in Raesh. Faint light scored his arms and legs like veins just beneath the skin, the beat mirrored in the wyrm on his back and originating from his own heart.
Finished with its wake-up routine, the serpentine figure strolled up to Raesh’s shoulder before curling under his other arm like a sash. Its head swiveled to glance at Korin before turning its gaze to the same direction as its bondmate. Looking forward himself Korin met Ayla’s eyes as she fell into a position on his left. Covered by a sheer veil her mouth mirrored the words that barked in his ear.
“That as fast as you can fall? Get down there before we fly straight into an ambush.”
Heard that? She wants us to go faster.
Throwing the sign for “Heard” he felt a grin cross his lips that was not his own.
“Fine,” he relented, “Have it your way.”
The world blurred.
Korin pointed his nose to the Mists as his vision ceased to hold any meaning. The gusting howl became an explosion that tore at his eardrums. His stomach turned as gravity add its own strength to his fall. An endless sea of dark grey below rushed up to meet him. Nerves and animalistic fear threated to tear his heart form his chest.
Breathe.
The Mists consumed his vision, filling it until he could see nothing else. Scraping against his peripherals he tried to grab one last look at the sun without turning his head lest the wind snap his neck. Nothing. Daggering into the Mists light and sound faded away to muffled afterthoughts. Falling further he could feel the pressure building quickly on his back as though he had submerged himself in water, yet aside from a slight discomfort in his ears it never came close to crushing him.
You’re welcome.
“Yeah,” he muttered, “Thanks for not letting me die.”
It’s not so much an active choice. More like a contract I haven’t yet broken.
“Well then thanks for not breaking it at the worst possible time?”
Harder than it sounds. But again, you’re welcome.
“–rin . . . ear me?” Ayla’s voice warbled and stuttered, random fluctuations in the Mists interfering with the worm’s Pulse.
I think we went a little too far.
“Barely,” he spoke loud enough so that hopefully Ayla could hear him, “Climbing half a klick, see if that helps.”
Now his stomach lurched the other way, twisting itself into a knot as the forces from below tried to yank it through his bellybutton.
“Better?”
“Much,” Her words still sounded as though they were being churned into butter, but at least she was no longer cutting out. “Hold altitude and slow up a bit. At that decent rate you overshot the Puckle by at least a couple klicks.”
Shadows swam through the Mists around him, shifting shapes that flitted about just out of sight.
“Yeah, got a few down here myself.”
“Bloody storms you’re that low? Surprised the worm’s this clear. Must have gotten a good batch this time. How’s the visibility?”
“Awful, but the Pulse should light up a Titan’s trail or a set of pulsesails well enough. Probably want to stay a bit ahead of our little ward. Anyone coming from this low’ll be looking to stay out in front of them as well.”
“Fair point. Still pull back a few hundred meters then hold heading and speed. Keep talking to me about what you see.”
Korin smiled, “Well right now the puckles are kinda dancing around me, trying to figure if I’m –”
“I don’t care about the mist mites, kid. Anything you see that’s worth my time.”
“Heard.”
“Alright people, net’s spread. Let’s see what we catch.”
–––––
“Carver?”
Lorren looked up from the mug, squinting her vision into focus. A pair of black eyes stared down at her from behind a massive beard, concern wrinkling the already overgrown brows above them. A gut covered in glorm hide overalls poked out in front of the man, and as her head once more began to fall forward she caught a glimpse of cedar braces around thigh-high boots. “Rock and drop you’re wrecked. Gunther! I need a pitcher of water up here!”
The rumblings faded away as the man took a step from the table, Lorren no longer caring to summon up the energy to keep track of him. For her lack of effort she did not see the paddle of a hand as it struck her across the face.
Now she had her focus. Staggering to her feet she could feel the roots like claws start to grow from her hands, only to suddenly be on the floor, vines sprouting form her back to cushion her fall.
“’Anks,” she muttered. There was no response but she could feel the disgruntlement inside her head.
“Don’t mention it,” said the man.
“Not you,” she snapped, “Wha . . . what’re you playing? Think jush – just because I’m sloshed doesn’t mean I can’t – I can’t – I can’t . . .”
“Maybe?” he guessed, “Drink this, then threaten me.”
Grabbing the proffered cup she drained it before letting it fall to the table. Her tongue felt numb but her sluggish wits quickly realized what she’d been given.
“Water?!” rage boiled in her gut, hotter than when she had been slapped, “Don’t gimme water when I’m –”
“Being offered a job?”
“You interrupt a lot, don’t you? Don’t need a job. Got plenty of money. And if not, got more’n that in goodwill.” She raised her voice, “Right Gunther?”
The words swam to her from across the room, “Get out, Lorren.”
She raised her mug in a cheer as she took a sip, only to spit it out in disgust. Somehow the man had replaced her stout with even more water.
“Disgusting,” she carefully placed the cup to the side. Water was water, and she was not so drunk as to waste a whole mug. She knew exactly what it was worth.
“Perhaps not as much of the latter as you think, but I’m sure you’ve got plenty of the former. Funny thing, I get the feeling you don’t really care for either at the moment.”
“You’re right, where’s my beer?”
“You spilled it in your lap.”
“. . . ah.”
“Draken left earlier this morning. Without you.”
She scoffed, “Figure that one out all by yourself?”
“Pretty hefty contract to just walk out on. Got a reason?”
“I’m too famous,” a small bit of spittle leaked out the side of her mouth, “Needed a bigger name to fit my grandeur.”
“Bigger than the Draken?”
“Yup,” her head bobbed in an exaggerated nod, “So unless your Ludover himself I’m not interested in whatever you’re offering.”
The man gave a rolling chuckle that made his gut bounce and the chair beneath him creak, “No I’m not Riker, and I doubt you’ve ever heard of the Glispin.”
“Tiny, rockhopper. Study little thing though, built in Borsjur.”
Her company raised a bushy eyebrow.
“Heard the skipper’s an ass.”
Another laugh, this time long and loud, “Like I said I’m not the Ludover.”
“Then leave.”
“But tomorrow I’m taking his gambit.”
“. . . call me Lore.”
–––––
I wouldn’t try to touch them if I were you.
“Why not?” Korin muttered, his hand slowly reaching for the puckles flitting around him.
Never liked the look of them. Something behind the eyes. Always seemed like they were up to something.
“Seemed? You never bothered to find out?”
This may come as a surprise to you, but when instinct tells you not to mess with something, those that listen to those instincts have a tendency to live longer.
“Honey.”
What?
“Honey,” his hand inched forward, “I’ll bet the first guy to stick his hand up a beehive was considered the village idiot. But because he ignored his animal instincts and figured those striped rotters were hiding something good, he probably died one of the richest men of all time.”
Or, the wyrm snarked, he died that day. And the one who found his body surrounded by dead bees and an empty hive got the payout of a lifetime.
“Only one way to find out.”
You dumb idio–
Korin lunged through the air, hand outstretched. The closest mist mite tried to dodge but it seemed to swim through which the airman flew. Fingers closed and Korin gave a hoot of triumph. The eel’s body twisted and turned, body slick with moisture as it struggled to free itself, mouth snapping wildly as it tried to twist itself into a knot tight enough to catch Korin’s wrist in its jaws. Refusing to give it the chance he swung it around himself like a whip, keeping it far from any part of him he cared to keep.
“And – whoa, close there – after all that worry.”
Congrats, you’ve accomplished . . . what exactly?
“I alone have conquered nature.”
Who knew this was all it took.
“If you think about it all of human history has led to this moment. So from a certain point of view I’m the pinnacle of storms!”
Spines rippled down the puckle’s body, starting at the head and running down its length until Korin’s hand felt the bite of a dozen pinions punch through is leather gauntlet and dig into his palm. Instantly released the creature hissed as it darted deeper into the mists, disappearing from sight before Korin cared to look for it. Cradling his wounds, a raucous laughter echoed in his head as the worm in his ear barked to life.
“Korin, talk,” Ayla’s voice was tight with concern.
“It’s nothing,” he raised his voice, “Just startled is all. Bleeding mist mites.”
“Storms Korin, gave me a heart attack. Try not to die to a puckle before our pirates get a crack at you.”
No promises, the wyrm ghosted through the mists into view, pulling beside its bondmate, You better hope those spines weren’t poisonous.
“Wait, are they?”
A dark chuckle was the only response.
“This is serious is my hand going to fall off?”
Wouldn’t know, never had the hand to lose. Is that something they do?
“Not normally.”
Probably fine then, but . . .
“But what?”
Korin glanced to his side where the wyrm still flew. Thought it matched his direction and speed its head pointed behind them, the faint whisps of translucent air that made the outline of its eyes squinting as it looked back into the mists.
The airman followed his gaze, “What are you –"
Trails of light glowed through the mist, glaring despite their distance.
“I’ve got pulse trails!” Korin yelled into the worm, “Four coming from behind, lateral distance seven-fifty to a thousand meters! Current ascent rate they’ll breach mist in just under three minutes.”
“Got something here too,” Cena’s voice, so quiet Korin could barely hear as Ayla’s worm transmitted her words to the rest of the squadron, “Can see another four kissing mist. Can’t make out their classes yet.”
“Korin,” Ayla now, “You’ve got a line on their trails, what’re they running?”
“Ti –” he paused, thoughts racing, Those are way too bright and steady to be Titan trails. It’s like they’re burning straight Pulse. But that’s –
“You cut out,” the second lieutenants voice fluttered with a note of concern, “Confirm Titans?”
“They’re too bright,” he whispered. “They’re too bright,” for the second time that day his heart threatened to push its way out of his chest.
“Airman Ashor!” Ayla snapped, “What are –”
“Blights!” he knew he was yelling but he didn’t care, “Every bleeding one of them’s a blight trail!”
Voices split Korin’s skull as everyone spoke at once. Several shouts of “Impossible,” and “It’s far too early” clashed with demands for greater details or information before Ayla brought everyone to heel with a sharp command.
“Korin you’re sure? Not the time for a misread.”
“I’m positive,” his hands were shaking as he reached for the straps securing one of his four short spear to his back, “They’re flying on pure Pulse. Breach in two!”
“Rise to match but don’t engage. Where’ll they be in relation to the Puckle?”
“Right below. They keep this ascent rate they’ll smash into her hull.”
“Heard,” Ayla took a deep breath, “Prepare to defend. Snaps, drop in formation but keep the Puckle in your range, I want you providing fire support. Check your shots, I don’t want to lose anyone to crossfire. Kip stay with them, you’re still on guard duty. Anything gets too close turn it to ash. Raesh take Tholin and Set, head off the group that’s coming from the front. Hetal kiss mist and join them.”
“Breach in one!”
Heavy breathing rife with nervous energy clouded Ayla’s words, but her voice remained steady, “Remaining Titans on me, get under her hull and keep it free of holes. Korin I need a disrupt. Just before they breach I need a flyby. Nothing fancy, just something to break their formation so we can finish them off. A hit and run, if they’re truly blights and you close they’ll rip you apart. Breach?”
“Thirty!”
“Hard burns people, make it to position before they do. Captain Renalt,” she spoke into her other worm with the skipper of the Puckle on the other side, “Prep for boarders. We’ve got company.”
–––––
The moment she opened her eyes Lore regretted it. Even laying down her head felt like an open wound, and her stomach felt like the Churn far below.
“You could have stopped this. Still can, actually.”
There was no reply.
“Sulking, really?” She tried to get her feet beneath her but quickly realized the futility.
“It’s almost noon. I get it, you’re mad I skipped out on the Draken. I –” she faltered, the finality of her words striking harder than last night. Now she needed a drink.
“I am too. She’s a good ship. I’m sure they found another Navigator who’ll take care of her.” The words were hollow. Draken was hers. “But she doesn’t matter. Not anymore. I have to do this. If there’s even a chance, this is it. A gambit run will cut fifty years off the cycle. I – please,” water blurred the corner of her eyes, “Please. Help me make it to the Glispin. Help me look. Help me find her. I won’t be able to do any of this without you.”
You will die, the growl rumbled in her skull, flat and emotionless.
“Please.”
Silence. Then her blood started to pound in her ears, her heart racing as something pushed her body to move. The storm in her stomach quieted and the throbbing from her head faded to nothing more than a bad memory. Parched she reached for the waterskin beside the bed, slinging it over her shoulder as she moved. Her pack by the door was already prepared, a remnant from the day before and assembled for her journey on the Draken.
“Trip’s be a bit longer than an ice scoop. I missing anything?”
Bring the box.
“Right,” dashing back to the bed she reached under until her fingers brushed cold steel. Pulling back a small, intricate blacksmith’s puzzle in the shape of a cube hung by her fingertips, no larger than her hand. Stuffing it in a side pocket of her pack she took a final look about her room. Bare walls and bare floors looked back at her. What was the point of furnishing a room when you barely lived in it? A glint of silver from the bed once more drew her close. Folded within the rumpled sheets lay a small chain with a silver and glass pendant. Sealed within a vial a small sprig of a vine glowed with a tiny light, faint yet steady. A quick swipe and it was once more safely around her neck.
“Would’ve been a piss poor way to start a gambit.”
As if there’s a good way to go about it.
Ignoring him Lore shouldered the pack and pushed through the door, squinting as sunlight filtered into the small alley. Clean and sturdy apartments rose on either side, their weight supported by the cedar slats composing their walls. Delvers never wasted space, and that carried through on the houses they built. Passing onto the street beyond the alley Lore sidled through the crowd with ease. So many bodies and yet there was little jostling. Unlike islanders, delvers knew how to pass each other in tight spaces. Shops and apartments towered into the sky above and slowly leaned over the street, built out and high, the upper floors connected to those across the street by wooden beams.
Even though much of the sky was obscured Lore could just see the child islands flying high above. Far smaller than the island they were tethered to, they held the overflow of Port Aarvald. A growing city needed space, and the islanders had refused to allow them to increase the city limits, stating what land remained on Imnar was needed for farmland. So the inhabitants of the port did what any respectable delvers would – they made their own land. Regalia was the newest addition. Pulled from the mists by none other than Draken herself, the chunk of rock five-hundred meters across soared above the city, towers of scaffolding already covering her craggy face as the builders set to work. Four tethers of greatvine – each thicker than a rockhopper – lashed her to the port and kept her from being blown away. The greatvines were grown from the underbelly of Imnar herself, and resonated with waves of pulse gathered from the mists below. It had taken a dozen teams of Navigators to manage such a feat, but the result was well worth the effort.
There were three other such floating rocks above the port, but Lore thought Regalia by far the grandest. Not only because it was the largest by a couple meters, but because she had found and flown it herself. Piloting Draken it had taken three days of painful navigation through the mists. Olard had thought it too heavy, which is why she was the Navigator and he was only the skipper.
“What’ll he do without me keeping him in check?”
Feel happiness for the first time in years?
“Eh, he’ll miss me.”
A single step and the buildings peeled away, opening the sky and revealing the docks ahead. A legion of ships floated there, tethered to stories of moors stacked high on top of each other and slightly offset. Tugs and even a few fliers darted between them, loading and offloading cargo from delver and islander ships alike. Distantly she caught a glimpse of Slithin, Draken’s sister ship. Sixty meters bow to stern she was far from the largest ship in port, but she was by far the sturdiest. If you wanted to take something that large deep into the mists you needed something hardy, along with a lack of self-preservation. Sails stowed she looked like nothing more than a long and rounded log dotted by bolting-hutches, fasteners, tow hooks, and a line of thick viewports for the bridge crew. Booms and masts like skeletal fingers bristled down her length and along her underside, her pulsesails stripped for maintenance. She had been caught in a storm and her canvas had been so damaged it was a miracle she’d had the power to climb back to port.
Turning her back on the achingly familiar profile of the Slithin felt like tearing out her heart. Pointing her feet towards the tallest towers of moors where a small navy of rockhoppers bobbed in the wind.
Glispin, she mused, a ship. My ship.
–––––
Calm down, came the voice inside his head, you’re going to pop an artery before they get a chance too.
“Hold.”
Ayla’s called to him over the worm, conducting his charge. Through the Mists the four lines of pure pulse ascended, gaining speed.
“Twenty.”
If you die on me I’m making sure they never find your corpse.
Korin wanted to respond but was too busy counting down.
“Fifteen.”
“Hold.”
Sweat and mist slicked his hair to his head, a tie holding the long strands form his eyes. White knuckles gripped his spear, the numbness making him question whether they were his own.
“Ten.”
“Nine.”
“Eight.”
“Seven?”
“Six?!”
“FIVE!”
“Now!” Ayla screamed and Korin launched. The wyrm gave a whoop within his head as its bondmate pushed them forward, adrenaline coursing through his blood and hurling them to even greater speeds. Korin’s nervous mind marveled at how they flew. Was this why Alya had waited so long? How had she known? Sound and wind blurred together as his eyes refused to understand what they were seeing. A thousand meters fell away and sunlight glinted above as Korin and the four trails raced to the edge of the Mists.
A moment.
A hearbeat.
A body.
Korin released the spear and turned ever so slightly. Fletching at the end of the projectile carried it true, and as the airman sailed past a stunned creature it could not have reacted as the weapon punched a hole through it’s chest the size of Korin’s head.
The world exploded with sound.
“Engaging from the front!”
“They’re blights! They’re bloody blights!"
“Watch the roots!”
“Bleeding assholes!”
Korin looped around, his worm twitching with the number of voices screaming through its tendrils. He had already recovered his spear, caught moments before. The hit was true, and the shaft hadn’t split. If it had entered too far from a perfect angle it would be nothing but splinters. Pulling into a climb he breached the mist to glimpse the battle for first time.
Ayla and her Titans were in trouble. The fight was three to four and yet his squadmates dashed and dived like frightened birds. Bolts of lightning flew widely behind them, the human’s unable to accurately aim their wyrms without sight.
“Korin get your ass to the bow!” Ayla’s voice thundered in his ear. As he watched she collided with a blight. Her limbs flashed as Pulse coursed through them, screaming as she tore the unfortunate creature in half with her bare hands. Even as its legs dropped the upper torso refused to die, roots and vines growing out of it as the its mouth opened to let loose an alien wail.
Red blood flecked with electricity coursed down her arm as she ripped it off of her, spitting after the body as it fell. She looked up, eyes burning with rage, and turned directly to Korin.
“Move!”
Terror raced him further. Curving around Puckle the sight that met him made his blood curdle. Tholin was dead, his body held aloft by his wyrm. Wooden roots encased and pierced his body, puncturing his neck and growing through his eyes and nose. A waterfall of blood leaked from him, swallowed by the Mists below. Set was struggling, his limbs flashing with terrible power as he fended vines. He tried to fly free but a thick root had curled around his leg and was pulling him closer to the blight from which it had grown. Hetal dodged and weaved, his flight path contorted into knots as he threw billowing tongues of fire around him. Two hung on his tail, but refused to get close, obviously wary of what the intense heat would do to the vines that comprised their bodies. Chasing their heels a hail of ice spears fell from on high, thrown by the snaps above. It was clear they were too far away, their projectiles having too far to travel. Aside from a slight annoyance the hostiles paid them no mind.
Only Raesh looked like he was winning his fight. From the looks of it the blight was doing its best to stay away from him. The massive airman sailed through the sky, lighting cutting swaths of air before him as his prey desperately tried to shake him. Again and again Raesh tried to close into a grapple, but from the looks of it the creature wanted anything but.
“He’ll be fine,” Korin turned back to Hetal, then climbed. Higher and higher, cold air burned his skin. Another thousand meters above Puckle and he stalled, flipping his body and letting the soles of his feet see the sun. Falling. Faster. Faster.
Release. The spear fell away from him, seeking blood.
It missed. His target dropped and the weapon hissed by, carving a trench down its back. Korin cursed as he heard the sound of splintering wood, a single bad throw destroying the spear. Pulling up to prepare for another pass he reached behind him to grab another, only for the wind to be knocked from him as something heavy collided with him from behind.
Hetal’s other tail!
He had not seen it peel away from the other and fall with him. Putting on speed Korin tired to distance himself from his attacker, but something wrapped around his leg like a ball and chain, weighing him down.
Korin move!
A burst of power shot through Korin’s body and he pulled, hard. The vine wrapped around his leg went taught as it dragged its host behind it, the two bodies corkscrewing through the air in a wild flurry of wind and fear. Depite his maneuvers the plant continued to grow up his body, tightening its grasp as it tied first his legs, then reached for his fingertips, trying to trap them to his torso. Korin faltered and he fell, for the first time looking down he saw his enemy.
Taller than him by at least thirty centimeters, it reached for him with a long, thin limb tipped with three fingers. Its face was long and pointed, two sets of eyes – one above and set slightly wider than those below – glared at him. It’s snarling mouth revealed a row of blunted, round teeth, and a wide, white tongue within. It did not have external ears, instead two small holes were hidden within the folds of the foliage that encased its head. He would have tried to guess the proportions of its torso, but it was impossible to guess what it had looked like before the transformation.
Blights were born flesh and blood, but as they aged they slowly replaced themselves with vines, eating away at their muscles and sinew until they were more plant than flesh and blood. During the metamorphosis their old bodies began to rot away like that disease that earned them their name, the necrosis food for their new form.
This one looked younger. One leg still remained completely untouched by vines, the familiar curvature of muscles beneath flesh all the more gruesome because of the fringes of rotting meat that circled its hip joint. The appendage almost looked human, except the foot was long and thin, an it’s foot more a paw by sight, and longer bones lengthened the distance between the ankle and toes. A flitting thought left Korin wondering how such a thing could walk.
Pain. His arms struggled to free themselves but already he could feel sharp thorns digging into his body, tearing groves in his skin as they sprouted from the root still holding him still. Higher it climbed, searching for his neck. He was going to meet the same fate as Tholin. A breathless howl filled his mind like a storm, a scream of animalistic rage. Pulse pooled at his fingertips and wind rose around him, buffeting his assailant. Still the thorns dug deeper, holding them together. Korin looked down once more into the eyes of his killer.
A massive five-fingered hand curled around the rotter’s face. Electricity flashed beneath skin and knuckles creaked as the hand squeezed, until a sickening pop came moments before the creatures head exploded in a geyser of clear, watery blood. The root loosened and Korin wriggled free, Raesh’s snarling visage floating up to greet him. Another blight struggled in his grap – the one he had been chasing – caught by the throat. A crunch and it went limp.
Dropping the corpses the big airman gave a solemn nod, then tore through the air, charging for the blight from which Set’s limp body now hung. Glancing back to Hetal Korin caught a glimpse of what had once been his opponent, the fireball already fading into the Mists.
“We’re going to win,” he breathed, “We’re –”
Cena’s voice cut through his words, “Twenty more on the horizon, closing as fast as they can.”
“Ten more behind as well!” Stick, another Snap called through the worm, “They must have circled around!”
Fingers of dread gripped his spine as he dived, slipping down into the mists. Far below he could see them, their pulsetrails bright in the fog.
“Fifteen, twenty, twenty-five!” he added his own report, “Twenty-five coming from below! Breach in a minute thirty!”
Ayla swore, “Fifty-five. Raesh, how you looking?”
“It’s just me and Hetal. Set and Tholin are gone.”
“I lost Erit,” the worm went silent, tense seconds passing as everyone came to the same conclusion. Blights were slow. Even a Titan could outrun one, albeit with difficulty. The Puckle and her flightless crew, however . . .
“We stay,” Ayla spoke into dead silence, “Snaps, join up with Raesh. Kip, you’re with me at the stern. Korin, run.”
Blood drained from his face and his tongue went dry, “What?”
“Someone needs to let command know the blights are back. I don’t care what they have out there or where it is, you can outfly it. Get back and tell them everything. Tell them –” she choked off, her voice growing thick on her last words.
Raesh’s roar filled the void, “Tell them there were hundreds!” nervous chuckles echoed all around, “And as you ran you saw us slay entire legions before we fell! If they aren’t singing songs about us by the end of the month, I’ll come back and finish what that blight started.”
“Why aren’t you moving!” Ayla cut back in as cheers shook his head, “Go!”
Turning his back to his comrades Korin flew, wind wicking away tears.
–––––
(Continued in comments)

funny bet wagers video

Competitive Dating: 10 Friendly Wagers to Break the Ice. If the night is going well, and there's a foozball table around, why not make the date a bit more interesting and challenge your date to a ... If you were to place a $100 bet and our planet actually ceased to exist before January 1, 2019, you’d “win” $50,000. (It’s not clear how you’ll get the cash if the world has ended.) Funny bets with friends? me and my two cousins are having a bet just for fun and we cant think of anything to do. we are in eighth grade and a good example would be: whenever someone says alright, poke their butt. immature, i know, but we are just having fun . Answer Save. 18 Answers. Relevance. Hailey. 1 decade ago. Favorite Answer. prank call someone, see who can hold their breaths the ... The bet led to an avalanche of wagers on the same event. Neil Armstrong duly obliged on 21st July, 1969, and Threlfall was £10,000 richer. William Hill eventually paid out over £50,000 on this event (around £860,000 today), ruing the fact that the man in the street knew more about space than they did. Elvis Presley related novelty bets are struck even now, almost 40 years after his ‘death ... The loser of the bet buys or makes a funny gift or a goofy little prize for their date. Dig into your date’s sense of humor. Think of a joke they’ve made, their hobbies, or other ideas to tickle their funny bone. Be creative here. 15. Choose the vacation destination. Couples often disagree on where to take the next vacation. The winner gets to settle this argument by getting the first pick ... All you need to do is bet something other than money. Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you our awesome (or terrible) idea: punishment bets. I’m Not Really a Gambler. I went to a casino for the first time in my life about a month ago. Truth is, I’m not really a gambler. I took the “free $20” offer, won about $9 (if I had used my real money, I’d have lost $11), and left. If you knew me ... I bet you've lost a bet at some point in your life. But the price you had to pay probably wasn't as big as for the people included in this list. Bored Panda has compiled a series of unfortunate gamblers in the middle of their redemption, and the photos are so funny and embarrassing, you'll think twice about entering a wager next time. This classic bet has inspired the hot pepper challenge which is a viral internet sensation. With this bet, you are going to have two or more hot peppers and challenge both you and your boyfriend to eat them and the first person who reaches for the milk loses. However, note that this can be a very dangerous game to play as some peppers are too hot and can have side effects such as – dehydration from sweating too much, and respiratory complications for people who have respiratory ... Funny Bet Wagers Funny bet wagers * The Dirt 2011 Mark the role of Christian up with the most exclusive Asian Tai Ladyboy. The world39s largest and of the great summer a new series farcical bet wagers. they reach judgement. Read the arguments written in favor of each position and discuss the bets with the. Novelty Betting with Paddy Power. Current Affairs, TV shows and novelty betting specials ... Funny Wagers For Bets. wagers. (wager) bet: the act of gambling; "he did it on a bet". (wager) bet: stake on the outcome of an issue; "I bet $100 on that new horse"; "She played all her money on the dark horse". (wager) bet: maintain with or as if with a bet; "I bet she will be there!"

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AnnoyingTv and Wins Vs Chuleys $700 Wager Best of 7 ...

GPU: GeForce GTX 1650 SUPERCPU: AMD Ryzen 5 3500 6-Core ProcessorMemory: 8 GB RAM (7.92 GB RAM usable)Current resolution: 1920 x 1080, 144HzOperating system: My Social Media’s IG: isthatclipztwitch: clipz2kyt Snap: Karamisicle2xTikTok: clipz2kyt *Copyright Disclaimer: Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, a... My Social Media’s Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/isthatclipz/Twitch: https://twitch.tv/clipz2k_Snap: https://www.snapchat.com/add/karamisicle2xTikTok: ... If you guys enjoyed this video make sure to drop a like and subscribe! Editor - https://twitter.com/OfficialAdvythThumbnail Designer - https://twitter.com/me... A Few Friendly Wagers. How well do you know your friends? Well enough to know what they are going to do? Well enough to make MONEY by predicting what will ha... My Social Media’s Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/isthatclipz/Twitch: https://twitch.tv/clipz2k_Snap: https://www.snapchat.com/add/karamisicle2xTikTok: ... No money in between the wager. Just like a 1v1

Competitive Dating: 10 Friendly Wagers to Break the Ice ...

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Crazy idea request: I am a professional athlete and this Saturday my team is playing against a squad that two of my friends play for. We want to bet something ridiculous/funny on the game. What should we wager??

Made a bet with my girlfriend, What is a good/funny Wager?

Weird Super Bowl Prop Bets 2015: List of 15 Funny Wagers For Patriots-Seahawks Game

I am disturbed by the comments and PMs I got in response to a post I shared on r/wsb

r/funny: If I were a betting man, I'd wager this was their second choice. by /u/Kayarjee (21 mins. old)

Galactic Economics 1: Happy Existence