Price: 0,052 Mcap: 1.7M Launched last november, no CEX listings yet. Tradeable on: Osmosis Frontier, Uniswap, Pancakeswap.
Introducing Planq Network ($PLQ): Planq Network is an innovative layer-1 blockchain built on the Tendermint Proof-of-Stake (PoS) Consensus mechanism. Developed with the Cosmos-SDK and featuring Inter-Blockchain Communication (IBC) capability, Planq operates as an EVM-Chain with a strong emphasis on mobile-first development. The project is led by a team based in the Netherlands. The team has hinted multiple times that a CEX listing is on the way. Today the token rallied 100%.
To explore further details about Planq Network and its native token $PLQ, visit the CoinGecko page: https://www.coingecko.com/nl/coins/planq
Notable features of $PLQ, the native token of the Planq blockchain, include:
- Staking, currently offering an annual percentage rate (APR) of 250%.
- Governance voting.
- Transaction fees for Planq dApps like dapp.space, castrum, and the upcoming dex.
There is no VC funding. the project is fully self funded, of course this could also be seen as somewhat dangerous because there might be questions about the runway of the project. The roadmap is also very doable, no impossible promises.
Tokenomics: The tokenomics are quite unique and can be found on this page: https://planq.network/whitepaper#tokenomics. There are not that many tokens in circulation, hence the high staking rewards of 250%. THis is done to get a more fair distribution and to not have a handful of rich people hold all of the tokens. There is a pretty good writeup of their tokenomics and why they have done it this way here: https://medium.com/@planq/planq-tokenomics-2b4fc881bca8
For additional information about this fascinating project, please check out their Twitter page: https://twitter.com/PlanqFoundation https://planq.network/ https://t.me/planqnetwork Linktree: https://linktr.ee/planqnetwork
If you have any questions, feel free to ask, and I'll provide assistance to the best of my abilities.

Hi all -
I'm hoping someone can guide me on this. Last night we changed my husband's Macbook login password (my PC was recently hacked). We wrote it down on a piece of paper. Today, when we go to login, it comes up as incorrect and gives us the password hint. I know you can reset this by using the apple ID, so I test out the apple ID and password by logging in to both itunes and icloud.com on my computer and both work. When I go back to the Mac to try and reset it using the Apple ID/Apple ID password, it shakes and indicates it is the wrong password. Any clue on why this is happening and is there any way to get back in? I'm stumped!

[Chapter 1] ; [Previous Chapter] ; [Discord + Wiki] ; [Patreon]
Chapter 117 – I have nothing to hide
With a deep, long exhale that took every last bit of air out of his lungs, James hung up his call. Wordlessly and with his chest deflated, he simply remained standing there for a few seconds, feeling how his system gradually drained itself of oxygen while he tried his best to clear his thoughts and listen into himself. But all he felt was a chaos that he couldn’t calm. He had no idea if he was ready for this, and trusting the word of others had never in his life felt as hard as it did right now, not even the many times his life had literally depended on the word of others.
All he could do was reassure himself. He could do this. He would do this. And they all would get through this. He would make it happen. He had to.
Feeling the raging chaos-storm die down only ever so slightly at his own reassurances, he finally allowed himself to inhale again. He forced himself to not violently gasp for air as if he had just emerged from a deep dive. Instead, he very deliberately began to allow air to rush into his body through his nose, adamant to keep full control of the flow as he did so.
Once his lungs were full, he kept the air in for only a moment, before allowing it to rush back out of his mouth in a pursed-lipped exhale, while also opening his eyes again.
With steady and deliberate steps, he then began walking back to the rest of his group at an even and controlled pace. The projections of his team’s expression looked back at him with a strange sense of wonder and anticipation.
Nia and Moar on the other hand looked like they already sensed the severity of the situation, and a mounting dread seemed to take hold of them. Meanwhile Curi and Congloarch stood by with stony expressions, not giving a hint as to what was going on behind their faces.
That only left one.
Unlike all the others, Shida approached him as he returned to the group. After meeting back up outside of the conference room once the recess had been called, James had immediately separated from everyone again, and she had patiently waited for him to be done with his preparations. But now they could finally discuss what needed to be said.
“Are you feeling any better?” James asked her, knowing that he sadly would most likely have to force her to join them in the room once again once the proceedings would return to order. It was for everyone’s safety.
“Not really, but I think I can sit it out,” Shida confirmed for him, her expression stuck between assuring and sickened by the thought, which James couldn’t fault her for. With her ears twitching, likely to subtly remind him of her fine hearing, she then lifted a hand to gently put it on the side of his mask, where his cheek would usually be found. “So, it’s come down to it, huh?”
James nodded, while lifting his own hand to press it onto hers.
“Yes,” he replied with a sigh that reflected the weight he felt pushing down on him. “Not how I wanted things to go, but…I’m also glad that the secrecy will be over.”
Allowing his head to sink down, his mask pressed against Shida’s forehead.
“I honestly can’t tell if I’m overjoyed or devastated that you’re here with me for it,” he whispered as he closed his eyes for another moment.
“I wouldn’t want to be away from it,” Shida whispered back while her other hand also lifted to gently sink down onto the back of his head. “Not again.”
Letting out the mildest hint of a laugh, James embraced her. As he felt her body in his arms, a primal part of him wished that they could just remain like that. Just unload all of this weight and pressure in a hug until nothing bothered them anymore. Of course, that was not how anything worked, and so they soon let go.
Together, they joined back up with the rest of the group.
“Usually, I would offer anyone who doesn’t want to stick around the chance to get out now, but I’m afraid that would be way too dangerous to do,” James explained as he looked at everyone’s face individually. “For better or for worse, it’s safest if we all stick together now.”
Moar was the first to step forwards. Slowly, she approached him with her lumbering steps, one clawed hand lifted to her face while long fur hung off her thin arm, while the other half-extended towards James but stopped in mid air long before it reached him.
“James, what are you going to do?” she asked, her tone filled with all kinds of strongly held-back emotions. Light reflected twinklingly in her wet, dark eyes. James swallowed, but a feline hand clasping around his gave him courage.
“I’m going to come clean,” he said with a look up at the giant. “Everything that’s been said. Everything that’s been done. I’m putting it all on the table. I will let the galaxy be my witness that I made my choices and I am willing to stand for them, like I always was.”
He then wondered if he should prepare all of them for what was about to happen.
However, he decided against it.
“It’s better if I don’t tell you more right now,” he said with a creeping sadness gradually reaching for his words. “I don’t know how you’re going to react to it, but…whatever your reaction may be, it will be better if it is genuine inside of that chamber. You knew of nothing, and people will see that. I don’t want anyone to unjustly think you were involved.”
Although he didn’t say much, the concerning vagueness of his statement seemed to already give at least some of them ideas of what was going on, especially given the recent tensions back on Earth.
“James…you- you can’t be-“ Nia began, however James cut her off with a raised hand and slowly shook his head.
“Let’s keep it for the big reveal, alright?” he suggested, although his tone didn’t leave much room to argue.
Seemingly stricken by his words and looking for some reassurance that surely what she was thinking couldn’t be true, Nia glanced around to the faces of her other fellow humans for any sort of support. However, the projections of the faces of James’ entire team, including her own girlfriend, were just as glum and anticipating as that of her brother was.
They all knew. Of course, they did.
As James watched that realization sink in for his sister in real time, he suddenly noticed a huge shadow creeping in from his side. Turning his head, he looked up just in time to see a huge hand sink down to grasp around his shoulder, as Congloarch bowed his upper body in a show of respect.
“It is a rare sight to see a dancer stand firm,” the Lizartaur informed him with his deep, bellowing voice that came through barely parted rows of sharp teeth. “You carry yourself well, James. Keep that up, and the Galaxy will see it, too. I, for one, will stand with you.”
All of the giant’s four fiery eyes were focused down onto him.
James exhaled slowly, not knowing if he should be inspired or bemused by the strange encouragement.
“Thank you,” he ultimately said with genuine fondness in his voice. “For everything.” Hesitantly, he then turned to Curi. The cyborg still stood without any movement, their lightly glowing red eyes fixating on him with great attention.
“I think…” they began to say, noticing his eyes on them, however they then cut themselves off and shook their body slightly to rephrase it. “I believe in you. I believe that I cannot have misjudged you to such a degree that anything you did would make me no longer want to stand with you. Not after you stood with me when nobody else would. You said you wouldn’t rather have anyone else by your side. And I will be.”
While James appreciatively bowed his head to the cyborg, Moar then came forth once again, seemingly feeling like she needed to say something as well.
“I am not sure what you have in store for us this time, but I cannot imagine abandoning you to face it alone once again either,” she said, her gaze noticeably falling onto his cybernetic arm. “I cannot promise that it will not take me time, but I do not wish to let myself be blinded by my own ignorance again. Therefore, I will listen to your reason, and knowing you, I am sure I will see it as well.”
Exhaling slowly, James was already starting to think that he was feeling one too many emotions right before such a huge event. But, seeing as it couldn’t get much worse, he turned to his team.
“Anyone got anything to say? Now’s your chance,” he offered to them. The humans briefly exchanged some looks with each other. It didn’t really seem like they had much need to get anything out.
“If we’re going to have to fight our way out of here because of this, I’m going to be so mad,” Athena notified everyone with a sigh while patting the side of her belt with one hand while throwing her long ponytail back with the other.
“Remember to count your kills if it comes to that,” Koko chimed in with a tone that seemed to try to break up the tension. “Makes documentation so much easier if we don’t have to scrub through the footage.”
She tapped at the camera attached to her chest with a finger.
Giving the two a hesitant courtesy chuckle, James then turned to his sister once more. She still looked on in disbelief, seemingly overwhelmed by what was happening.
Momentarily letting go of Shida’s hand, James walked over to her, immediately pulling her into a tight hug.
“You don’t have to worry,” he assured her, doing his absolute best to confidently speak this truth into existence. By any metric, she had done nothing wrong. At the very least he would ensure everyone knew about that.
Nia held him for a moment, before shifting her head slightly.
“What about you?” she asked gently.
“I can handle myself,” James replied immediately. “And I’ll have no regrets.”
Apparently not quite knowing how to react to what he had said, Nia just squeezed him tighter.
“I love you,” was all she said in the end, and James could feel his heart drop at her words.
“I love you, too,” James replied seriously, and after a few more long seconds, they let go of each other again.
Clearing his throat, James looked around at everyone.
“We should probably get back inside early,” he suggested, feeling like keeping a good overwatch over the situation was a valuable strategy.
Although hesitant, everyone followed him as he led the way, and soon enough, they were back on their seats – after checking everything for possible tampering once again.
For now, the room was still relatively empty. One or two of the other representatives had already found themselves back as well, and many nervous glances were thrown James’ way after the earlier outburst.
However, as James settled into his seat to go over how exactly he wanted to say what he had to, he heard a weird sound of pitter-patter in front of him. Leaning forwards in confusion and looking down at the railing, his eyes then quickly caught the bright, signal-colored fur of a pixemerrier climbing up towards him. The nimble lemur forewent the need for the offered stairs and simply used the railing as more than enough purchase to make it up to the second level, small hands soon reaching over the sides to completely pull the pink and spotted body up.
Now sitting directly in front of James on almost eye-level, Losaraner looked at James with mildly glowing eyes.
“Can I help you?” James asked as he shifted his position slightly to look at the man head-on.
“Just, uhm….” the lemur started, but then heavily hesitated as he awkwardly shuffled his body around. Something seemed to make him majorly uncomfortable, although it didn’t appear to be for an all too serious reason.
Strangely feeling put the tiniest bit at ease at the display of sincere awkwardness, James let out a bemused breath.
“Whatever it is, it’s alright,” James therefore informed the glowing lemur and reassuringly raised a hand. “I’ve been called every name in the book and had to answer every question I can think of, you won’t insult me with whatever you have to say.”
With some honest relief apparently rushing over the pixemerrier’s face, Losaraner pushed himself up to all four of his feet again, balancing on top of the railing.
“Forgive the inconvenience, ambassador, but we would like to relocate your seat,” he informed James.
“Relocate my seat?” James asked with a head-tilt, his mind already running with possibilities how this could be to his detriment.
“Not just yours, that of your entire party,” Losaraner quickly clarified something that James had honestly already figured. “We believe it would lead to a more civil outcome.”
James quite earnestly scoffed at that. There would be nothing civil about what was going to happen. And although he wasn’t technically against gaining some distance from his most averse parties around here, he also felt like the sudden need to get him away from Uton had a foul aftertaste.
“Is that a compulsory ‘would like’ or a suggesting one?” he therefore inquired. He almost didn’t want to, given that Shida had difficulties being here already, and being further from her former father figure surely would help with that a bit. But still, he was going to trust his gut on this one.
“Oh, uhm…well, if you would like to remain in your seat I guess-“ Losaraner began, and James quickly nodded before he had even finished.
“I would,” he confirmed firmly. “But thank you very much for your consideration.”
If they were going to try and blow him up or whatever, they better be willing to take their scapegoat down with him. Maybe this was all a genuine offer in the end, but even then staying around here wasn’t going to have a negative impact.
“In that case, I’ll return to let my mother know,” Losaraner said with a nod and turned on the spot, seemingly to climb back down to the lower level.
“Hey Losaraner?” James stopped him briefly, causing the lemur to turn his head back.
“Ambassador?” he questioned James’ intervention, awaiting whatever he would have to say.
“You seem like a good guy,” James said, fixating the glowing primate through his visor in an attempt to spot any attempt at deception from the small creature. He couldn’t find any. “Keep an open mind, alright?”
Although apparently confused by James’ words, Losaraner nodded with a bit of enthusiasm.
“Of course, Sir,” he replied, before then climbing down the railing face-first to join back up with his conspecifics.
“Almost showtime,” James then mumbled to himself.
Shortly after, the room had once again filled up with the representatives of all eleven primate species the galaxy knew, as well as their extended company.
Though by now, it almost seemed like the invited representatives found themselves outnumbered by the vastly increased number of reporters, sound engineers, camera people and even news casters that had come together to report on the event. Their numbers must have had at the very least tripled since before the recess had begun, and that was a very conservative estimate.
Cameras and microphones were truly everywhere now, ensuring that not a single instant of this most possibly historic moment would be missed without being preserved for all to see.
Next to him, James could see Uton settling in. His face seemed to be plastered with the same anticipation that James felt. And for only a second, both primates glanced over at each other at the same moment, their gazes very briefly meeting in a moment that seemed to fill the air with an electric charge.
The tension was palpable, and it only looked for a release.
In the room’s center, Losaranarja was now climbing back onto her small podium. The glow if her fur and eyes had increased quite drastically since before the recess, and James wondered if that was caused by stress alone or if other factors also played a role.
“Welcome back everyone. Seeing as all invited representatives have returned to their places, I hereby reopen the council of primates,” she announced over the loudspeakers as her glowing eyes scanned over the room. “Before the recent recess, we had just born witness to a frankly tremendous confession of Captain Ferromore Uton. If nobody has anything absolutely urgently relevant to say before we continue, I would suggest that we waste no time before getting to the bottom of that unnerving revelation he wishes to share with us.”
Without wasting a second of time, James was already on his feet.
“Actually, I do believe I have something to say on the matter,” he announced loudly, pulling the attention of the room onto him at an instant, camera flashes almost immediately erupting into a storm of flashing lights. “In fact, since Representative Goloribal’s only worry about letting me take over the explanations earlier appeared to be that I may not be ‘fervent’ enough about it, I will like to pick him up on that earlier implied offer, with the promise that I will be sufficiently ‘fervid’ about everything I am going to divulge.”
“Am…bassador?” Losaranarja asked completely confused by this turn of events as she looked up at him, almost appearing shock-stunned at the revelation.
“Do I have the word?” James asked, still sticking to procedure vehemently.
The lemur seemed to hesitate. Clearly, she was already afraid of where this was going. However, she had offered the opportunity to speak to everyone who believed that they had something important enough to say. And therefore, she had little choice on the matter.
“Of course,” she said after pulling herself together visibly. “Please go ahead, Ambassador Aldwin.”
James nodded.
“Thank you,” he announced loudly. And although he felt his insides scream in cramping anxiety, he held on his firm tone and posture as he stood up straight. This was it. “First, please allow me to reiterate and reaffirm my earlier point. The attack on Dunnima was entirely unprovoked and was and remains unjustifiable.”
He needed to set that stage. That was his hill, and he was willing to die on it. Nothing they could bring against him would change those facts.
Filling his lungs with as much air as he could without it being painful, he then continued.
“Now to the matter at hand,” he addressed the room. “Captain Uton has been lying to you. However, not about the point that you may think,” he informed them, with the faces of everyone already falling into gloom at what exactly he may mean by that. “He was not the one who ordered the attack on Dunnima. Humanity has already known who ordered the attack for quite a while now, and we were in the process of drafting a proper case against him before we would publicly accuse him of anything. We do however have ample evidence to provide to prove the guilt of this individual, namely Acting-Councilman Ekorte Keun.”
There was an immediate eruption of more flashes as well as wild mumbles throughout the room. Everyone seemed to be whipped up into a mild frenzy at James’ words. And James wouldn’t give them time to ask many questions about it. They wouldn’t need to.
“Keun himself has confessed his crime to me personally shortly after it was committed,” he continued his retelling of the events of the past months without losing more than a moment to the muttering. “He did so, because he falsely believed himself to be in danger after his failed attempt at somebody’s life backfired against him. He also believed that I would be the only person able to prevent said danger from claiming him, which is why he came to me directly. Our conversation was recorded and is part of the case I mentioned earlier. Within it, you will hear that the Acting-Councilman believed that he had become the target of the ire of a Realized Artificial Sapient after his attempt at her life with his illegally ordered attack on Dunnima had failed to destroy her, and he believed that my influence on said artificial Sapient would be great enough to preserve his life, if he only confessed to his crimes in my favor.”
As if a switch had been flipped, the mumbling in the room came to an almost immediate halt. From one moment to the next, you could suddenly hear a pin drop, with even the news casters and reporters stopping their ongoing drivel as all eyes were entirely on James.
“He was mistaken in his assumption,” James said in no unclear terms. “In reality, the Artificial Sapient, as much as she may have wanted to, was never out for revenge against him. She knew that any aggressive action she would take would be nothing but fuel to the fire that already raged against her. And therefore, she remained just as passive as she had been throughout her entire existence, while the apparent attacks against her would-be killer were carried out by a so far unknown third party.”
Somehow, the room got even more quiet. By now, James could feel gazes burning into him not only from all around the front of him, but also from right behind his back, as he had now fully confirmed what many of them had been passively suspecting for a long time now.
Of course, Uton technically had plenty of opportunity to dispute James’ words and insist that he was the one to order the attack. However, in the end, did it really matter? Right now, nobody really cared who exactly ordered the attack. Something else was a lot heavier on their mind.
“Are you…saying…that there truly is a Realized Sapient on Dunnima?” Losaranarja asked hesitantly, as nobody else seemed to indicate that they wanted to ask this all-important question, causing her to take over that duty as the host.
“That is correct,” James confirmed without hesitation. “Her name is Avezillion, and as previously mentioned, she was the main target of this recent attack.”
It was like a timer slowly ticked down as the silence remained for just a bit longer.
Three.
Two.
One.
And like that, the loud discussing and mumbling and even shouting over each other broke out once more, along with a renewed vengeance of cameras.
“You are saying right now, there is a realized Sapient loose in the galaxy…And you knew?” Klanneifer was the first to break out of the homogeneous white noise to directly address James. “Are you insane?”
Keeping his calm, James brought his hands behind his back.
“I don’t believe I am,” he replied nonchalantly with a gaze at the four-armed primate. “Especially considering that Captain Uton and his known circle of influence most likely knew just as long as I did, without ever divulging that information either.”
He could hear shouts about how this was an outrage and how about something would have to be done immediately from all around him. It seemed like most of the present representatives were absolutely ready to try and mobilize the entire Communal military to deal with this at an instant, and it really made James wonder if this all had truly been the best course of action.
But right now, he had to believe. He could not allow himself to show weakness. Not here, not right now.
“Surely you know the dangers of these beings!” Commander Halljafier was the next to speak up. “Are you saying humanity just allowed all of this to happen under their nose?”
Again, with just humanity. It wasn’t like no one else had known.
“At my very own recommendation,” James replied without even really wasting a glance over at the grassurgap next to him, “The leadership of humanity has decided to allow Avezillion a chance to exist and prove herself. She has existed on Dunnima for many years without a single violent incident on her part. We believed this to be rather unprecedented of course, however the people of Dunnima believable assured us of the opposite.”
He turned his head to Shida, which quickly caused her to stand up, as she immediately took the hint. These words would be better if they did not come out of his mouth.
“Within our long-recorded history, Dunnima’s Realized have never been violent like the ones the rest of the Galaxy knows,” she explained just as self-assured as James did, although he could tell it took her considerable effort. Though, it seemed that fueling her words with a bit of spite did help with that. “Not including Avezillion herself, three Realized have emerged on Dunnima in the past, before we joined the greater Galactic Community. One of them, Kertaiyon, is hailed as a hero of the people to this very day. Not one of them has ever started a war against us or unjustly hurt people. It is true that not all of them were Saints, but that is nothing unusual on Dunnima. Therefore, when Avezillion emerged under the scrutinizing eye of the Community this time, we all agreed to hide her, as long as she would remain hidden herself. For many, many years, the Galactic Community remained none-the-wiser, as Avezillion peacefully lived in Dunnima’s networks without ever causing issues.”
She paused briefly to swallow as well as watch the unbelieving reaction of the people around her. It seemed that everyone was a bit too stunned to really fathom or at least fully react to what she was saying.
“However, the hiding wore away at her over time. She felt trapped, confined. Never being able to show yourself at all while limiting yourself to only a small portion of the Galaxy, it was a life unworthy living for her,” Shida kept on explaining. “Therefore, when James came to visit Dunnima, she made a gamble. She would either gain her freedom, or she would no longer have to live on under these conditions. With these thoughts in mind, she revealed herself to James, and by extension, humanity, finding peace only in that, if they decided to end her, humanity would surely do so without causing greater harm to the people of Dunnima. Something that she wasn’t convinced of with the rest of the Galaxy – for good reason, as it turns out.”
Thanking Shida with a nod, James signaled for her to sit back down, hoping that the stunned representatives would direct their possibly emerging ire at the person left standing instead of the one that had spoken.
“I made the call to trust those that had lived with her for years,” James added onto Shida’s words. “And humanity’s leadership made the call to trust me. And we have not found a single shred of evidence that Avezillion has ever caused harm to anyone or even intended to do so. Had she wanted to cause damage like so many of her conspecifics did, she would’ve been able to achieve a great deal of it.”
Hesitantly, the representative of the Missicapriej -lanky grey primates with one too many joints in each of their limbs- who had so far barely spoken during the entire conference, stood up.
“But…if you are admitting that there is an Artificial Sapient, and that it was the target of the attack, then…then the attack was entirely justified,” they stated, although they barely sounded confident in that statement.
“Indeed, it was,” Commander Halljafier quickly supported that claim, clearly thinking he knew the galactic military doctrine much better.
“That is not correct,” James denied. “An outer-orbital strike, especially on a civilian target, is never justified,” he said with strong emphasis. “It is one of the oldest rules that the community has established.”
“If it is to destroy a realized sapient, then all means are-“ the Commander tried to deny him, however he flinched back at James brought his mechanical hand down onto the railing before him once again, this time with purpose.
“The laws of war exist for a very good reason!” he boldly stated after waiting a moment to see if the Commander wanted to continue his sentence. “Ignoring them if we see fit, no matter what the reason may be, is a dangerous subject. And if you think that attempting the murder of an innocent person is already reason enough, then you have clearly not understood why these laws exist in the first place!”
“Innocent person?” the commander scoffed with vitriol in his voice. “That…that thing-“
However, once again he was interrupted. To James’ great surprise, however, it wasn’t by him.
“It may have slipped your mind since it has been so long since the last one emerged, Commander,” Captain Uton was the one to speak up, his deep voice cutting through the room like knife with its coldness. “But the personhood of Realized Sapients is not up to debate. And it has not been for more than a hundred years. That question has been answered by our ancestors ages ago, and we would do well not to try and question it today for our convenience.”
While the Commander sunk back into his seat after the shutdown from the superior he had believed to be on his side, James bit down on his lip. Although every word Uton had just said was true, he simply hated having to agree with him, even on such a basic and important topic.
He mostly hated it because it showed that there had to be some vague hint of integrity left somewhere deep down within that bastard of a person, and that almost made James despise him more, since he clearly knew what he was doing.
The Captain’s dark eyes then turned over onto him, as the large man continued, “However, I have to disagree with the Ambassador on the justification. Person or not, eradicating an artificial sapient is more than enough reason to forgo a simple law.” James bit back his anger, keeping his focus intact. Although next to him, he could hear the loud scraping noise of wood buckling under sharp claws, as Shida dug her natural weapons into the chair she was sitting on in order to remain seated and quiet.
“And yet Avezillion is still alive,” James replied challengingly to the man. “Meanwhile innocent civilians got injured. One of the leaders of Dunnima got heavily injured. Children got hurt. Children that would now be dead had the attack not been foiled by our warship. It is nothing short of a miracle none of them are dead. It was a terrorist attack, nothing else. The moment justice bends to such heinousness, it breaks. And, after all, forgive me for being a bit heavy-handed, but if the Community is willing to break its own laws and attack its own planets to hunt down one Realized, then who is the one that the people really need to fear? I, for one, put my trust in the one that hasn’t already proven that it would attack and use me without a second thought. After all, this isn’t the first time I hear of someone inconvenient being suddenly caught in an explo-”
James was cut off when Uton loudly spoke up, his loud organ easily overpowering James’ voice in a conversational tone.
“What happened to your promise of not making this about y-“ Uton began to say, however then his voice was in turn overpowered as well.
“Wait your god damned turn!” James shouted out authoritatively, momentarily overtaken by his anger in a brief outburst. “You do NOT get to talk over me!”
Quickly catching himself again, although he very much wanted to keep going in the same vein, James lowered his voice again, although the room was left noticeably shaken.
“This is a civil event that follows clear rules that we are both bound by,” he said with a serious gaze over at Uton. “And my promise died the moment you decided to drag it through the mud with your fictional tales about very real events that have influenced not only my life, but that of many people very close and important to me. So forgive me, Captain Ferromore Uton, if I am not going to sit idly by and allow you to spew whatever nonsense you and your cohorts came up with in your ivory towers while the world underneath you burned. I was wrongly imprisoned, blackmailed, tortured, and maimed by you people. Shida was groomed and abused by you for years as you tried to make her fit your mold. There was an attempt on Curi’s life under Your. Very. Command. So forgive me, please, if the reasoning of ‘we really wanted them gone’ out of your mouth isn’t enough for me to believe that a crime against the Galaxy is justified, especially since you had knowledge of Avezillion’s existence for as long as I had, and could have divulged it at any point. But you didn’t want to divulge it. Because that would’ve meant that she would have a chance to defend herself, either physically or before the law. You simply wanted her gone. Wanted her to disappear like so many before her did. But not anymore. No, no, not anymore. Here and now, I promise you that, as long as humanity is around, nobody under your Command is going to just disappear anymore. Not. A. One. We will watch. And we will see. And, starting with Curi and Avezillion, we will be a place for them to go when no one else will stand with them.”
Seemingly stirring in anger now, James could see Uton clench his jaw, his lips quivering as he held himself back.
“I never abused her,” Uton muttered, apparently completely focused on that part as James had seemingly struck a nerve with that.
“And that’s the only defense you could come up with,” James responded. Then, he reached up with his left hand, pulling his right sleeve back to reveal the mechanical arm underneath it to the room, while he held it up in front of his body. “You wanted her to fit your mold. And now she’s in a place where she’s actually loved. You wanted to change me. And now, I have this arm here, just because of you. And you wanted to change the Galaxy. Well,” James paused briefly to spread his arms in a wide gesture that was very clearly meant to mock the man. “Congratulations, you did,” he then announced to the entire room. “Without you, humanity would likely never even have considered helping a realized Sapient. Michael really did his job well with spreading fear and hate. But after enduring everything that you put me through? I was just open enough to listen when one told me that she feared you.”
Uton clenched his jaws tighter and his hands curled into fists. Seeing his puppet becoming useless, Goloribal sprang into action.
“As the revered order of the primates, it is our duty to lead by example!” he announced as he got up, although his presence was already far less impressive than it had been earlier. “For generations, we were renowned for our just and swift action. We cannot allow ourselves to falter in that now!”
“For generations, we primates have also been revered for our curiosity and for being the first to open up to anything new,” James responded to that, looking the man directly into his face. “Yeah, that’s right,” he then added as the representative blankly stared back at him. “I studied galactic history, too! I’m fucking unstoppable!”
He boisterously threw his arms up, making a real show out of it.
In all actuality, he was most likely far from gaining any victory right now. Sure, at the moment, the room was slightly shaken into silence, however he highly doubted that he had actually managed to truly convince many of the people present here.
However, as long as the cameras were on him, he would keep the show going. Maybe he wouldn’t convince the stuck-up people of the revered orders. However, somewhere out there, there would be people whose ears and hearts he would reach. Hopefully at least. And for them, he would put on this show. Put on this air of confidence that everything would turn out well.
Because only if he managed to make everyone believe that would they find the courage to shake out of their rut and go looking for a better tomorrow. If he believed everything would be well, then they would too.
“Those are big words from someone hiding their face,” a voice suddenly broke through the room. James wasn’t even sure who had said it. But he also didn’t care. Right now, it was just another stone to jump off of.
“What, you think I am wearing this to hide?” James announced loudly and gestured to his breathfilter while turning his head so the entire room could see the gesture.
“It’s uncomfortable as hell! And it gives me a serious disadvantage in any debates if people can’t read my face. These breathfilters are and have always been something we humans are wearing for everyone’s benefit but our own. They are designed because we are extremely cautious to keep nasty deathworld-germs from spreading, even if that is extremely unlikely. And additionally, it protects all the delicate people of the galaxy from having to look at our scary deathworld-faces. But, if you want-“
He didn’t even hesitate in reaching up and pressing the necessary buttons to release the seal of the filter. With a loud hiss, its grip on James’ head loosened, and he quickly pulled the mask-like device off his head, before briefly running his mechanical hand through his disheveled hair to bring it into a bit of form.
Breathing out deeply with an open mouth, James presented his teeth to the room with a confident smile, while his dark, sharp eyes scanned over the room, making direct contact with as many of those of his fellow primates as at all possible.
“I have nothing to hide,” James announced. “From the very start, I owned up to my mistakes and was willing to stand for them. I terrorized an entire station to protect myself. I shot someone’s leg off when he threatened my freedom. I killed one of my captors when I finally escaped from their hold. I have done many things that the Galaxy may judge me for. However, I truly and whole heartedly believe that helping Avezillion is not one of them. And I will stand for that just like I stand to my mistakes.”

Economy Update coming tomorrow(5/31)
Dedicated stream. Details Not discussed, today.
​
New Event Coming Soon
​
Shooting RangeNew Tab in menu
Try out loadouts/gunsFort Carmac
Weapons/Items/Ammo/Traits lying around
Hunter Dummies(reset after 3 seconds)
Shooting range specific damage indicators
Ping distance indicators
3 Player slots
-Can load in as teammates and normal teammate rules apply
- Can load in as solos and be enemies
-Respawn in place, full health or respawn safely with full kit and health.
​
5 AREAS
-Short range
-Medium range
-Long range
-Throwable testing area
-Penetration testing area
​
Tutorial Improvements
Hints remain on screen rather than timing out
Custom keybinds are taken into account
​
Billy Story Questline Timer
9/14/23 Disappears
​
Quickplay is now “Soul Survivor”
​
Bug Fixes
Preset loadouts no longer buy legendaries when available.
Ammo pool no longer shows incorrect count in UI
Windows are no longer indestructible
Throwing knives/Axes no longer despawn with the corpse
​
Gameplay Changes
Ammo boxes supply fixed amount of ammo, rather than percentage based
Small(ammo type specific) Boxes:
Compact:5
Medium:3
Long: 1
Shotgun:1
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Large World Boxes:
Compact:8
Medium:4
Long: 2
Shotgun:2
​
Special Ammo Boxes:
Compact:8
Medium:4
Long: 2
Shotgun:2
​
Player Bought Ammo Boxes
Compact:20
Medium:10
Long: 5
Shotgun:5
​
Dual wielding no longer doubles ammo received
​
Ammo Changes
Incendiary ammo will ignite Hunters in one shot, until the range where damage dropoff starts
Salveskin will save you from being ignited by first hit of Incendiary ammo
Ammo box unlocks at rank 1
DumDum ammo on medium rifles now applies stronger bleeding affect
Explosive ammo pool increased
KRAG ammo pool increased from 6 to 8
Bonklance can run 2 ammo types and swap on the fly
​
BALANCE CHANGES
Sticky Bombs larger kill radius
Machete now one-hit kill on upper torso
Shotgun base damage increased on AI ONLY
Increased damage to horses with throwing knives
Romero Handcannon reduced reload time
Romero Hatchet increased reload time
Martini Ironside: Decreased cycle time and increased ammo pool
Winfield Musket Bayonet: Increased levering speed
Headclicker variants improved recoil behavior
Avto increased recoil
​
Trait Changes
Resilience now tops off available health
Assailant reduced cost to 1 point
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Mission Summary Accolades
Hunters reaching level 50 now receive $500 HD
Soul Survivor: Closing 4th rifts give $75 HD
​
Other Changes
Fixed some bugs in combat log beta
Combat log now shows events shortly after your death
Added 100+ loading screen tips(targeted at your experience level)
Questline weapons will be added to regular progression
​
Legendary Content
New Army - Deputy
Martini Ironside - Heaven’s Key
Winfield Slate - Eulogy
Scottfield - Judge
Scottfield Swift - Jury
Chain Pistol - Widower
Vetterli - The Noose
Weak Vitality Shot - Sanguis Christi
Sticky Bomb - Equine Heart
Knuckle Knife - Knotted Spine

About 3 years ago, which is a weird time to bring this up now, but considering I am in my 20s it could still be relevant today, I went on a first date with this girl. Considering I’ve never really cared about dating or relationships for most of my life with very little intimate experiences, this threw me for a loop.
I picked her up at her place and I drove us to dinner. I held the doors open for her, paid for the meal, and did everything that I felt I was supposed to do. She dressed nice but it was a casual kind of nice, as one would expect on a first date I imagine. I was dressed in a similar fashion but as a male obviously. The whole time we were there, she did not initiate one single word of conversation. Not on the car ride there, not during our dinner, and not on the car ride back. Obviously I was talking and she was responding as such, but there was no clear effort on her side to even try to get to know me. She was just on her phone the entire time, possibly on social media or even texting other people. Turned off by this, I never talked to her again, and she never messaged me again.
I’m not afraid to admit that I may be a little boring and not the most charismatic guy as hinted in the intro, but how many of those guys in successful relationships are out there? Probably more than we think, but I mean it’s the first date for goodness sake. Am I wrong to expect some personality from a girl on a date? Is this kind of behavior normal from women? I don’t know how to handle something like this to be completely honest. I get it that it’s just one date, but it feels like a rigged game when you look at some people that do get in and out of relationships seemingly on command.
Now being in my mid 20s, which is obviously young, but considering the lack of intimate experiences for someone my age it might as well be that I’m an old man. Transitioning to a full time job, finished my MBA recently, studying for professional exams, making plenty of money as is, only for someone to tell me that I may have to put in more effort to meet people when I have the intimacy of Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh. Like why would I want to do this crap if all I’m going to get is someone in return that doesn’t even make dating/relationships fun?

Game Changer - Controlled

Hello all and welcome to Game Changer!

Previously, we have removed the ability to place blocks, and gone back to play a full vanilla game. Now, we are playing an FFA UHC with controllers! Each player used two key mods: the Proximity Chat mod, just for funsies, and the Controller mod, which allowes full compatibility with almost any controller that functions on a PC. Due to hardware restrictions, we had a much smaller season this time around as only about half of our players even owned a controller. We also brought in some guests to beefen up the competition a little!

Intro and Players!

Sunday, we posted our admittedly very difficult teaser, which showed all of our returners, and hinted at all of the lovely new faces joining us. Today, we have the uncensored full intro, which reveals those aformentioned guests as well! That can be found here!
We have VioletSin, TheSonicJoey, ColdBacon, and azoof from our LIVE seasons...
And automavic and pigghetti joining us as well!

Predictions & Live Season!

Just like previous seasons, we will be doing predictions again! And also just like last season, the best prediction(s) will be invited to play the Live Season of Game Changer - Controlled, which will be Sunday, June 11th, at 6:00PM EST! More info on that coming soon. If you're interested in playing, or just want to partake in some predicting, fill out the prediction form found here! Our organizer's predictions will be posted with Episode 1 when the predictions form closes.

Credits

Server: LeonTG
Production: Hecticity
Organization: Austronomical & Hecticity

I'm starting to fall out of love with my GF.
We had lots of arguments but for me this has to be the one with most impact on me and our relationship. U8
I 23m starting to fall out of love with my GF 23f. We are in relationship for 2 years now and we had a lot of ups and downs and known each other for 4 years (we are college classmates). I wouldn't say that I'm the best BF because I have lots of shortcomings towards our relationship . She's my 1st girlfriend and I'm her 4th BF. I really love her but it's hurting me that she always forget everything about me and us such as my birthdays and our anniversaries. For 4 years since we've known each other she never greeted me on any of my birthdays, for me it's okay if no one greeted me or forget about my birthday, because I celebrate my birthdays alone since I was 14 (I just like the peace of mind spending it alone away from stress and I just want to sleep during my birthday).
Going back, I always tell her that I don't need any gifts for my birthday as long as someone greet me I'll be happy with it. Again, she never greeted me since we got to know each other and I'm totally chill about it, but on my 23rd birthday she made me really angry. On my birthday last April, she send me a picture through messenger that I wasn't able to see because I'm half-asleep when I opened my messenger to see what she sent to me. I wasn't able to see the picture she sent to me (again, because I'm half asleep and just want to sleep) and I replied by "yes?". After my reply she suddenly got angry with me and I told her that I'm half-asleep and wasn't able to see what she sent to me (she always delete her messages when she's angry at me). She's angry at me and said that I don't care about her and I'm taking her for granted. I explained to her calmly that I'm half-asleep when I opened her message and didn't mean any thing bad with my reply "yes?". She's angry at me at that moment and I'm telling her just to please be calm and I don't want any stress today, I reminded her that "are you forgetting something today that you want to tell me?" hinting that it is my birthday and I don't want to be stress (I don't like to remind or announce to other people and even family members explicitly that "It's my birthday today"). We got into an argument but I'm still calm while she's cursing me and after 3 hours of cursing me I suddenly exploded. I told her "it's my birthday and this is how you will treat me?" She said she knows that it's my birthday. I told her then "You know and yet what? You're stressing me out over my reply that you didn't like? I always told you that I don't want any drama or unnecessary stress on my birthday and yet you're doing the opposite! I explained to you that I'm half-asleep and want to sleep and yet what? You're cursing me and saying that I'm taking you for granted? In your birthdays, I don't make you stress and I'm doing efforts to show you that I care about you (I do simple collage of our pictures when we are outside together and make a video out of it for her birthdays and our monthsaries)." We resolved this issue and I forgave her.
Next is our anniversary, our anniversary is the same month of my birthday which is April. Before our 1st anniversary we had an argument and she went no contact on me and said that she just want to focus on acads (We are in our final sem before our graduation of May 2022 but we had the ceremony for that last August 2022 because of the restriction of Covid. We live in Philippines which you know sucks...). We didn't break up but just focus on acads, it's favorable for me since I'm trying to graduate with Latin honors (I did) and I don't want to be stressed out because of our arguments. She blocked me in all of her social media but I havr number and texted her on our Anniversary and told her that I lover her and I'm happy that I met her and she's wonderful and gorgeous. I waited whole day but I didn't get any response and I don't know what to feel. I thought that we are already over and 2 weeks past then she contacted me saying sorry for our argument and saying that she just wants to focus and she didn't forget our anniversary. I forgave her for that. Then on our 2nd year anniversary I made a music video with slides of our pictures for the past 4 years and send it to her exact 12mn of our anniversary. I sleep then wake up with no reply over my efforts and she didn't even greeted me for our 2nd Anniversary. We had an argument then went no contact for 2 days and we're good again.
I feel that I'm not being appreciated or even remembered for doing my fair share in this relationship. I'm being treated as a hindrance for her growth which she always says when we are having an argument. I don't feel I'm receiving any love from her anymore. Today (May 30) is our 25th Monthsary and I didn't receive any messages from her (I messaged her) . I don't feel any kind of anger or sadness now but emptiness.
Thanks and sorry for the lengthy post! I hope that you can understand my grammar hahaha! To add, she's not a monster or anything. We have our own shortcomings and my stoic attitude contributes within our arguments aswell. Still I hope that there is hope for this relationship but if not, I want to stay single for 2 or 3 years to focus on building my career and study again for Master's Degree.

I 23m starting to fall out of love with my GF 23f. We are in relationship for 2 years now and we had a lot of ups and downs and known each other for 4 years (we are college classmates). I wouldn't say that I'm the best BF because I have lots of shortcomings towards our relationship . She's my 1st girlfriend and I'm her 4th BF. I really love her but it's hurting me that she always forget everything about me and us such as my birthdays and our anniversaries. For 4 years since we've known each other she never greeted me on any of my birthdays, for me it's okay if no one greeted me or forget about my birthday, because I celebrate my birthdays alone since I was 14 (I just like the peace of mind spending it alone away from stress and I just want to sleep during my birthday).
Going back, I always tell her that I don't need any gifts for my birthday as long as someone greet me I'll be happy with it. Again, she never greeted me since we got to know each other and I'm totally chill about it, but on my 23rd birthday she made me really angry. On my birthday last April, she send me a picture through messenger that I wasn't able to see because I'm half-asleep when I opened my messenger to see what she sent to me. I wasn't able to see the picture she sent to me (again, because I'm half asleep and just want to sleep) and I replied by "yes?". After my reply she suddenly got angry with me and I told her that I'm half-asleep and wasn't able to see what she sent to me (she always delete her messages when she's angry at me). She's angry at me and said that I don't care about her and I'm taking her for granted. I explained to her calmly that I'm half-asleep when I opened her message and didn't mean any thing bad with my reply "yes?". She's angry at me at that moment and I'm telling her just to please be calm and I don't want any stress today, I reminded her that "are you forgetting something today that you want to tell me?" hinting that it is my birthday and I don't want to be stress (I don't like to remind or announce to other people and even family members explicitly that "It's my birthday today"). We got into an argument but I'm still calm while she's cursing me and after 3 hours of cursing me I suddenly exploded. I told her "it's my birthday and this is hos you will treat me?" She said she knows that it's my birthday. I told her then "You know and yet what? You're stressing me out over my reply that you didn't like? I always told you that I don't want any drama or unnecessary stress on my birthday and yet you're doing the opposite! I explained to you that I'm half-asleep and want to sleep and yet what? You're cursing me and saying that I'm taking you for granted? In your birthdays, I don't make you stress and I'm doing efforts to show you that I care about you (I do simple collage of our pictures when we are outside together and make a video out of it for her birthdays)." We resolve this issue and I forgave her.
Next is our anniversary, our anniversary is the same month of my birthday which is April. Before our 1st anniversary we had an argument and she went no contact on me and said that she just want to focus on acads (We are in our final sem before our graduation of May 2022 but we had the ceremony for that last August 2022 because of the restriction of Covid. We live in Philippines which you know sucks...). We didn't break up but just focus on acads, it's favorable for me since I'm trying to graduate with Latin honors (I did) and I don't want to be stressed out because of our arguments. She blocked me in all of her social media but I havr number and texted her on our Anniversary and told her that I lover her and I'm happy that I met her and she's wonderful and gorgeous. I waited whole day but I didn't get any response and I don't know what to feel. I thought that we are already over and 2 weeks past then she contacted me saying sorry for our argument and saying that she just wants to focus and she didn't forget our anniversary. I forgave her for that. Then on our 2nd year anniversary I made a music video with slides of our pictures for the past 4 years and send it to her exact 12mn of our anniversary. I sleep then wake up with no reply over my efforts and she didn't even greeted me for our 2nd Anniversary. We had an argument then went no contact for 2 days and we're good again.
I feel that I'm not being appreciated or even remembered for doing my fair share in this relationship. I'm being treated as a hindrance for her growth which she always says when we are having an argument. I don't feel I'm receiving any love from her anymore. Today (May 30) is our 25th Monthsary and I didn't receive any messages from her (I messaged her) . I don't feel any kind of anger or sadness now but emptiness.
Thanks and sorry for the lengthy post! I hope that you can understand my grammar hahaha! To add, she's not a monster or anything. We have our own shortcomings and my stoic attitude contributes within our arguments aswell. Still I hope that there is hope for this relationship but if not, I want to stay single for 2 or 3 years to focus on building my career and study again for Master's Degree.

Alright, apologies for the delays, but we're back now! Gonna keep trying for Tuesday mornings, and hopefully the post notifications will start working soon.
[First] - [Prev]
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Memory Transcription Subject: Ensign Sifal, Arxur Dominion Fleet
Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136
“Oysters are a local delicacy here in New York,” said David, gesturing towards the little molluscs in the spread. “Long before we were called the Big Apple, New York used to be called the Big Oyster. We’re on a major estuary, so these little guys used to be everywhere before environmental damage and overfishing tanked their numbers in the early 20th century. Thanks to the work of a few grassroots organizations, their population was on the upswing again until the recent, ah, irradiation incident.” David looked bemused. “What’s the radiation shielding efficacy of water again?”
“Halved per seven centimeters,” I rattled off offhandedly, hoping my measurements would translate to something he recognized. David held his hands approximately the correct distance apart to visualize it, and grimaced. I guess oysters live in the shallows.
I poked the little pinkish tan creature with a claw. It squished slightly. “Hey, are these still alive?” It looked whole in any event, minus the top half of its shell. It smelled lovely.
David blinked. “I think they are, technically?”
My eyes lit up. “I’m impressed! All this talk about pampering your prey, and then this? You Terrans didn’t seem like the type to eat live food.”
David’s eyes went wide. “They, uh, don’t really have a central nervous system.”
“So more the exception than the rule,” I mused. Even when the humans let their instincts out, they picked targets that felt it the least. “I suppose you really do tend to actively shy away from cruelty.” David shrugged, and I picked up one of the oysters. “Any other fun oyster facts I should know?”
David considered for a moment. “I dunno. I suppose oysters are traditionally considered aphrodisiacs?”
I froze with the creature halfway to my mouth, and stared at David incredulously. That was an unexpected turn. Why was he feeding me an aphrodisiac? We weren’t the same species. What was I meant to infer from this? Humans seemed happy to look for friendship and companionship outside of their species; were they inclined to go further, given the chance? I certainly wasn’t. What a bizarre notion! I mean, alright, I had to confess that I was at least curious, but that wasn’t the same type of interest. It was intellectual, rather than instinctual. But barring the sudden establishment of an alliance and a cultural exchange, I was probably leaving forever within the next hour or so. Given the time constraints, our current conversation was more than adequate to sate my curiosity.
I hoped I wasn’t reading too many layers deep into casual conversation again, but I had to decline politely. “Listen, David, you’re a very interesting man, but I can’t imagine making you and I work.”
This got a surprisingly good-natured sounding laugh out of the two scouts, and it was directly mostly at David. Alright, lucky me! It looked like I’d misread the conversation, but they thought I’d made a passable joke. No reason to disabuse them of that notion. I had to take my social victories where I could find them.
“A terrible shame, but I’ll just have to carry on somehow,” said David, smiling and trying to play it off as humor as well. “Frankly, I’m just surprised the Arxur seem to be this relaxed about same-sex relationships. Took us a while to figure that one out.”
Now I was confused again. “Arxur don’t really do… relationships,” I pointed out. “Also, I’m sorry, I thought you were male?”
David looked taken aback. “I… I am.”
“Then we’re not the same sex,” I said.
Alright, now everyone was staring at me like I’d made a social faux pas.
“I’m sorry,” David said slowly, “but I don’t think I ever asked you which gendered pronouns, if any, you preferred.”
“She and her,” I said, even more confused. “I thought it was obvious.”
“No part of that was obvious!” shouted Charmaine.
“My apologies,” I said in my best amused monotone. “I’ll try to display more sexual dimorphism in the future.” I let my eyes briefly flick down to where the female Terran scout’s shape differed from her male colleague. “Shall I ask my armor quartermaster for a padded breastplate?”
David aggressively swatted at the air for silence, while Charmaine growled offense at the word “padded” in particular for reasons unknown to me. David had a natural demeanor of a respected elder that the scouts seemed to pick up on and defer to. I wasn’t quite sure why; he barely looked older than the soldiers and I. “I apologize,” the chef said. “I tend to pride myself on my knowledge of as many topics as I can find, but I find myself coming up a bit short on the subject of herpetology.” That translated to the study of reptiles and then also amphibians? Why would those two be grouped? Even David seemed suddenly stiff on the subject. “I also can’t imagine that you folks have the same gender roles that we do,” David continued.
“The same what?” I asked. The term had barely translated.
“Gender roles?” he repeated. “Like… what’s expected of you by society based on your gender?”
I still didn’t follow. “I’m sorry, is this a mammal thing?” I guessed. “Half of you have to waddle around vulnerable for a whole gestation period, and now you’re grappling with second-order effects on your culture?”
David considered this. “That’s… hrm. That’s not entirely accurate, but not entirely inaccurate either?” He had a brief moment of gesticulating like he was reading an invisible book on the ceiling; he seemed to do that anytime he was trying to remember something. “I don’t think that’s generally true with other mammalian predators, at least. Like, with more solitary predators, the mothers often need to be strong enough to hunt and fight on her own, but humans aren’t solitary. It all gets really muddled when you take into account how much of human behavior is dependent on the assumption of group dynamics.” David shook his head. “I dunno, this isn’t really my area of expertise. So, what, the Arxur just…?”
I shrugged. “Arxur are Arxur. Around half of us can lay eggs. The end.” I took a sip of water, and David topped it back up from a bottle without comment. “Hatchlings are raised by whichever relatives feel like it, or else by state-sponsored boarding schools. I was raised by my father’s sister, who had a knack for training difficult children.” I idly scratched at an old scar on my left arm. “Her lessons were… useful.”
This was beginning to dredge up memories, so I reached for my oyster again. “Alright, may I continue? This isn’t going to start stirring any weird urges in me, is it?”
“Eh, probably not,” said David. “Certainly not enough to bring you around on… God, what do I look like to you? A guy who’s squishy with small teeth?”
“Hm,” I said by way of noncommittal half-agreement. There was no need to insult him about it. I popped the oyster into my mouth. I was honestly disappointed. It had a satisfying crunch to it, I supposed, but it mostly tasted like chalk. There was maybe a hint of some nice flavor in the middle, but I could hardly notice it over the taste of the shell.
David’s eyes were wide. “I… I’m sorry, I should have clarified that we don’t eat the shells.” He showed off his puny teeth. Like most humans, his fangs were millimeters away from fully vestigial. “Don’t think I could if I wanted to. The meat’s detached. You can just slide it with the juices right into your mouth. Try again?”
Only moderately deterred by my error, I picked up another oyster, held it like a small cup, and drank the creature. Alright, now we were getting somewhere! The briny taste of the sea added a natural seasoning of salt to an intensely savory morsel. It had a lovely chew to it as well, as the creature came apart in my maw. I could see why humans considered oysters delicious enough to compromise their morals over.
“Fantastic,” I said. I wanted more, but I thought I’d try the other options first. The next item was a shrimp cocktail. “Now, I see this one also has a shell?”
David nodded. “Thin and chitinous, but I still don’t recommend it.” He showed me a picture of a small insectoid creature. “We remove the heads and limbs of the shrimp before serving, but the shells are sometimes left on to be peeled at the table.”
My claws made short work of the little creature’s meager defenses, and I tossed it in my maw whole. This one seemed lightly cooked, but I didn’t mind too much. The flesh was a touch rubbery, but came apart so easily that it nearly felt stringy. It had a slight off-taste that was almost gamey, but grew on me. I dipped a second in a reddish condiment to the side. It was acrid and bitter, to the point where it overpowered the shrimp’s flavor. It was refreshing, but didn’t quite seem to match the dish by my estimate. “Cocktail sauce,” said David, making note of my facial expression. “Traditional, but not my first pick either. Try the white sauce? That’s a homemade garlic and herb aioli. Matches most crustaceans nicely.”
He wasn’t wrong. The aioli was much less tangy, and complemented the shrimp without overpowering it. The garlic and herbs added more flavor notes to harmonize around the gamey taste of the meat, and it added some much-needed fat to what was otherwise a fairly lean bit of meat. “This is better,” I agreed.
Finally, there was a dish of… “Tuna tartare,” David repeated. “It’s a raw fish, lightly seasoned, and chopped to make it easier to chew.” He flashed his teeth again. I flashed mine back. He blinked.
The small cubed pieces of fish were an incredible shade of dark red, and almost translucent in spots. It looked like red meat, or maybe gemstones. “What did you add to make it this color?” I hoped it wasn’t fruit juice.
“Oh, nothing for color,” said David. “Touch of soy sauce, little sesame oil, some spices, splash of vinegar. I’d normally add something for sweetness, but I’m gonna hold off on serving you sugar substitutes until I know what’s safe.” He pulled up a picture of a fairly large scaled fish, gutted and hanging from a hook. The inside was ruby red. “But yeah, no, tuna flesh just looks that color.”
“I’ve never heard of a fish with red meat on it before,” I said, “but after that pink one, I suppose it’s hardly the oddest thing I’ve seen today.”
David shrugged. “Eh, I’m just doing simple fare today,” he said. “Basic Earth foods. None of my usual trickery.”
I tilted my head, confused. “Trickery?”
David sighed. “I normally do a lot of, uh, molecular gastronomy. Dishes that use knowledge of chemistry to vary the flavors and textures in unexpected ways. Like, for example, one of our signature dishes is a cod filet cooked in lamb tallow. Cod is bland, and most of the lamb flavor is in the fat, so with a bit of finagling, this results in a piece of fish that tastes like lamb. You expect to taste fish, and you get the flavor of red meat instead.” David rubbed his eyes behind his odd civilian model holo-lenses. “The problem is, if you’ve never had cod before, and you’ve never had lamb before, you’d just… assume that cod tastes rich and gamey instead of bland. Trickey of this sort requires you to have preconceptions that I can undermine.” He shook his head. “Not that it really matters, since nobody’s wanted to order lamb-flavored anything since the fucking summer.”
“Why not?” I asked. “What’s changed?”
David pulled up another picture on his holopad. “Take a guess,” he said wryly.
He showed me a picture of a quadrupedal Venlil, and I nearly fell out of my chair laughing at its dumb fluffy face.

This is the third in a series of posts, in which I present a theory on the history of the Others. You can read part one here, part two here, and part three here.
My previous posts came with a disclaimer, which I'm going to copy-paste below:
In a certain sense, I am both a new and an old fan of ASOIAF. I read the books about ten years ago, enjoyed them, and then barely thought about them ever again after putting them down. Then, HotD got me interested in the series again, and I ended up going down the rabbit hole of fan theories, speculation about future books, details that I missed on my first reading, etc., which has been a lot of fun! But I’ve only read the series once, and it was ten years ago, so a lot of my memories are pretty fuzzy. Honestly, a lot of my knowledge comes from the wiki (although I have gone back and reread certain important chapters). All of this is to say, I am not the most knowledgeable person to be coming up with fan theories, and the fact that I’m posting this at all probably indicates a certain amount of Dunning-Kruger effect. Take everything I say here with a grain of salt, and please let me know if there’s something obvious that my ignorance has caused me to miss. Other than that, let me know what you think!
But I also need to include another disclaimer: I came up with this theory before I became aware of the idea that Bloodraven wasn't the three-eyed crow, and, as such, this theory assumes that Bloodraven is the three-eyed crow. To be honest, I'm becoming increasingly sympathetic to the idea that Bloodraven isn't the 3EC, but I'm still undecided. If Bloodraven isn't the 3EC, that will poke a few holes in this theory, but I ultimately think it wouldn't be too big of a problem. After all, the 3EC led Bran to Bloodraven, so they must share at least some goals. So, I ask that you assume for the purposes of this post that Bloodraven is the 3EC, with the understanding that, if it turns out that Bloodraven isn't the 3EC, this theory will need some minor amending. I've already been thinking about theories on that topic, so, if and when I finish such a theory, I'll post it and discuss how it modifies this theory. But that's getting ahead of ourselves. For now…

Part 4: Bloodraven

Making First Men horny

One of the most powerful pieces of magic we're told of in ASOIAF is the Hammer of the Waters. This is a spell that causes powerful earthquakes, capable of radically reshaping the geography where it's used. The Children of the Forest are said to have used the Hammer of the Waters on at least two occasions: once to flood the Neck, and once to break the Arm of Dorne. I argued in my previous post that the Horn of Winter contains the same magic as the Hammer of the Waters, and that when Joramun blew the Horn of Winter the resulting earthquake destroyed the western section of the Wall and created the Gorge. However, while the Horn of Winter replicates the magic of the Hammer of the Waters, that doesn't mean the Horn of Winter was the original Hammer of the Waters; that is to say, I don't think that the Horn of Winter was used to flood the Neck or break the Arm of Dorne. There are a few reasons why the Horn probably wasn't responsible for these historical events:

1. The Horn of Winter is probably the same horn that's currently in Sam's possession (link to a series of posts that analyzes the Horn of Winter and lays out this argument), and that horn is banded in bronze. The CotF didn't work with bronze.
2. TWOIAF described how the CotF brought about the Hammer of the Waters, and it had nothing to do with sounding a horn. Supposedly, it was your standard blood sacrifice deal: kill a bunch of people, and in exchange a powerful magical effect will occur. While the Horn of Winter might kill the person who blew it (in the same way Dragonbinder does), we have no reason to believe it requires a mass sacrifice.
3. Creating the Gorge, while no mean feat, is much less impressive than breaking the Arm of Dorne or flooding the Neck. The Horn of Winter appears to be a weaker version of the Hammer of the Waters.

So it looks like, compared to the original Hammer of the Waters, the Horn of Winter represents a tradeoff of power for convenience: the resulting earthquake isn't as strong, but you can create an earthquake without performing a massive blood sacrifice. But I want to focus on the fact that the Horn of Winter is banded in bronze. The CotF don't use bronze, but you know who do? The First Men. The Horn of Winter contains the magic of the CotF, but its physical structure could only have been made by the First Men. This suggests that the First Men (or some faction thereof) and the CotF (or some faction thereof) collaborated to create the Horn of Winter.
I suspect that that First Men faction was none other than the Stark Kings of Winter; this would explain why it's called the Horn of Winter in the first place. Regardless of which group of First Men was responsible, however, it's easy to see why they did it: the Horn of Winter is a powerful weapon, and any faction of First Men would have been happy to have such a weapon in their possession. So the interesting question isn't, "Why did the First Men work with the CotF to create the Horn of Winter?" The interesting question is, "Why did the CotF work with the First Men to create the Horn of Winter?" Why would the CotF give the First Men a weapon capable of destroying the Wall?
Let's take a step back and recall the role that the CotF played in the events leading up to the construction of the Wall. Their lands were invaded by the First Men, and I argued in my first post that they responded by creating the Others as a race of slave soldiers to fight the First Men. After the Pact ended the war between the CotF and the First Men, the CotF kept the Others enslaved and/or hunted down the free ones in the Lands of Always Winter. Then the Long Night came, and I argued in my second post that the Others took advantage of it by attacking the First Men, killing them en masse in order to grow their power, with the ultimate goal of attacking the CotF. Eventually, the CotF participated in the peace agreement that ended the Long Night. But it's worth remembering that the CotF only interceded in the conflict between humans and Others at the urging of the Last Hero:

"Now these were the days before the Andals came, and long before the women fled across the narrow sea from the cities of the Rhoyne, and the hundred kingdoms of those times were the kingdoms of the First Men, who had taken these lands from the children of the forest. Yet here and there in the fastness of the woods the children still lived in their wooden cities and hollow hills, and the faces in the trees kept watch. So as cold and death filled the earth, the last hero determined to seek out the children, in the hopes that their ancient magics could win back what the armies of men had lost." (AGOT, Bran IV)

Prior to the Last Hero, the CotF seem to have been content to sit back and watch the humans and the Others kill each other—which, considering the history of those three species, is understandable. (According to Sam, the CotF did at one point give obsidian daggers to the Night's Watch, so the CotF did get involved in the conflict between the humans and the Others eventually, but this probably didn't happen until after the Last Hero made contact with them. Old Nan says that the Last Hero had to go on a quest of some difficulty to make contact with the CotF; presumably, this wouldn't have been necessary if the CotF were already giving obsidian daggers to the Night's Watch, because then the Last Hero could have just gone to the Night's Watch and gotten in contact with the CotF that way. So, for most if not all of the Long Night, the CotF did not provide humans with obsidian weapons, meaning that they truly were uninvolved in the conflict between the two species.) I argued in my second post that the peace agreement between the First Men and the Others was an essential part of ending the Long Night, and that this was facilitated by the Last Hero/Azor Ahai. The CotF's absence in the conflict between the humans and the Others prior to the Last Hero's involvement suggests that the CotF had no desire to see the humans and the Others make peace. They only facilitated a peace agreement because it was necessary in order to end the Long Night. The Long Night was an existential threat to the CotF, both because the forests can't survive in an eternal night and because the Others might eventually become powerful enough to threaten the CotF. So the CotF needed to end the Long Night, and ending the Long Night necessitated a peace agreement between humans and Others. It's very easy to imagine that the Last Hero's pitch to the CotF went something like, "Look, I know there's no love lost between you and humanity, and certainly none between you and the Others. But the Long Night isn't going to end unless all three species work together, and the Long Night will kill you guys, just as it will kill humanity. For your own sake, work with us to end this." Clearly, this argument was persuasive. But, once the Long Night ended, the CotF no longer had any reason to care about peace between the humans and the Others—a peace that only existed thanks to the Wall, which was partially destroyed by the Horn of Winter, which the CotF helped to create. The logical conclusion is that the CotF made the Horn of Winter in order to destroy the Wall and renew the war between the humans and the Others. The CotF weren't unconcerned observers to the human-Other war; they actively wanted the two species to fight.
You may be wondering, why didn't the CotF just destroy the Wall using the Hammer of the Waters? The problem with doing that is that the Hammer of the Waters is distinctly CotF magic, so destroying the Wall with the Hammer of the Waters would have pointed right back to the CotF. The humans and the Others would have known that the CotF were trying to provoke them back into war, and they would have naturally resisted those efforts. The way around this is to give humans access to the same magic as the Hammer of the Waters. That way, when the humans use that magic near the Wall, it will be the humans who are responsible for destroying the Wall. Helping the First Men create the Horn of Winter was therefore a way for the CotF to end the peace between humanity and the Others, all while maintaining plausible deniability. And it kind of worked; the Horn of Winter did destroy the western part of the Wall. But this didn't result in the human-Other war that the CotF wanted, because, as I argued in my previous post, the Others' queen was taken captive at the same time as the destruction of the Wall, and she's been used as a hostage to keep the peace ever since.

Child psychology

I've argued that the CotF wanted the humans and Others to fight, but I haven't explained why they'd want that. The easy answer is that the CotF have grievances with both the humans and the Others, so they wanted bloodshed between the two. But we shouldn't accept that easy answer too readily. If we're going to understand what the CotF want, we're going to have to get inside their heads. The books tell us about at least one way in which CotF psychology differs from human psychology:

"That was in the dawn of days, when our sun was rising. Now it sinks, and this is our long dwindling. The giants are almost gone as well, they who were our bane and our brothers. The great lions of the western hills have been slain, the unicorns are all but gone, the mammoths down to a few hundred. The direwolves will outlast us all, but their time will come as well. In the world that men have made, there is no room for them, or us."
She seemed sad when she said it, and that made Bran sad as well. It was only later that he thought, Men would not be sad. Men would be wroth. Men would hate and swear a bloody vengeance. The singers sing sad songs, where men would fight and kill. (ADWD, Bran III)

So we're told that vengeance and spite aren't really a thing for the CotF, or at least not in the way that they are for humans. I've heard some people suggest that Leaf might be lying here, and that the CotF actually do want vengeance, but I don't think so, for a couple of reasons. First, and this is purely personal preference, I think it's a lot more interesting if the CotF don't think in the same way that humans do. If you're going to have multiple sentient species in your story, and they all think and behave in the same way, then it kind of defeats the purpose of having multiple species in the first place, doesn't it? If the CotF think and act just like humans do, I would personally find that boring. Secondly, and more importantly, we know that the CotF employ at least one human, Bloodraven, as a greenseer. This is a position of importance and confidence in CotF society, and it gives Bloodraven access to immense information. If the CotF were really planning on taking vengeance on humanity, then it's unlikely that they would be able to hide that information from Bloodraven (and any other human greenseers the CotF had; we don't know if Bloodraven was the only one), and it's unlikely that Bloodraven would help the CotF destroy or harm his own species. So the fact that the CotF rely on Bloodraven (and possibly other human greenseers in the past) suggests that the CotF genuinely don't wish any ill will on humanity, just as Leaf said. And if the CotF don't wish any ill will on humanity today, then they also probably didn't wish any ill will on humanity at the time they made the Horn of Winter—that was back when humans still held to the Pact, so the CotF would have had fewer grievances back then than they do today. So, if the CotF wanted to cause a war between the humans and the Others, and their goal wasn't to cause any long-term harm to humanity as a species, then their intent must have been to harm, weaken, or exterminate the Others. The CotF wanted the humans and the Others to go back to war, and they wanted humans to win. This explains why the CotF used to gift obsidian daggers to the Night's Watch.
This raises the question, if the CotF wanted humans to defeat the Others, why didn't they help the humans during the Long Night (at least, prior to the Last Hero's involvement)? Well, once again, we need to consider the psychology of the CotF. We know the CotF are willing to fight incredibly bloody wars, as they did against the First Men, but we also know that they won't keep fighting in a hopeless circumstance simply to spite their enemy, in the way that humans will. In situations where they are faced with assured destruction, they react with sad acceptance, not defiance. The fact that the CotF didn't initially participate in the war against the Others during the Long Night indicates that they must have viewed that war as hopeless. The Others were sweeping south, massacring humans, converting their boys into more Others and raising the rest as wights, constantly growing stronger; the CotF must have concluded that there was nothing they could do, no way to survive the Long Night. They didn't just roll over and die, but they weren't about to fight the Others when they had no chance of success. The CotF most likely hid, guarding themselves with magic, waiting to die a slow death—just like they're doing today.
Fortunately for the CotF, the Long Night did not end in their extinction. As I argued in my second post, Azor Ahai negotiated a peace treaty that ended the Long Night. But, as part of that peace treaty, the Others received a queen, the first female member of their species (whom I've been referring to as the Night's Queen). This allowed the Others to reproduce sexually, as opposed to their earlier method of kidnapping human children, and as a result the Others' population would have begun increasing dramatically following the Long Night. So, on the one hand, the Others were no longer benefitting from the Long Night, meaning they were more vulnerable than they had been prior to the peace treaty. But, at the same time, the Others were growing more powerful, as their population rose. For the first time since the Long Night began, the CotF could now hope for victory in a war with them and the humans on one side and the Others on the other side, but they had a very narrow window in which to act, before the Others became too powerful. That's why they only began making moves against the Others after the Long Night; during the Long Night the Others were too strong to be realistically opposed, and before the Long Night the Others weren't seen as a significant threat. Once the Long Night ended, however, the CotF got to work, by helping to make the Horn of Winter and by providing the Night's Watch with obsidian.

Things change

The above description probably makes it seem like the CotF were motivated to provoke a new war against the Others out of self-preservation, and there may well be some truth in that. The Others, with their new queen, were a rising power, and they still probably harbored a vendetta against the CotF. If the new war against the Others resulted in the Others' extinction, that would obviously guarantee the CotF's safety from them; if the war resulted in the Night's Queen being killed or captured (which I argued is what happened), that would remove the Others' status as a rising power. So, if the CotF were acting out of self-preservation, their plan seems to have been both well motivated and reasonably successful.
But, while the CotF might have successfully averted the risk posed by the Others, they failed to do the same with the humans. Leaf, and presumably the other CotF, fully recognize that humanity's expansion is going to drive them extinct. This has massive implications for the CotF's goals and motivations. The fact that the CotF are aware of and resigned to their inevitable extinction means that self-preservation is no longer a concern for them. They might have been motivated by self-preservation following the end of the Long Night, but not anymore. Whatever the CotF are doing nowadays, they're doing it because there's something they want to accomplish before they vanish as a species. And I do think that the CotF are trying to accomplish something, partly because characters that don't want anything are boring, and partly because Bloodraven is clearly up to something, and the CotF are supporting him. So, if they're not motivated by self-preservation, what are the CotF trying to do?
A common idea I've heard is that Bloodraven and the CotF want to prevent the Others from destroying the world in a second Long Night. I think there's an element of truth to this (especially considering the lengths the CotF have already gone to to oppose the Others), but I don't think it's the whole story. Consider this: if the CotF want to prevent the Others from conquering Westeros, but they're not motivated by self-preservation, then they must be motivated by some combination of altruism and guilt. They created the Others, then the Others got out of hand, to the point where they threatened all of Westeros, and now the CotF feel responsible for making sure they don't do that again. That's reasonable, even noble, but it can't be limited to merely defeating the Others in this latest confrontation. If all that comes of this current conflict with the Others is that the Others are prevented from conquering Westeros, then who's to say that the Others won't try to conquer Westeros a third time in another 8,000 years? And by the time that happens, the CotF will be extinct, so they won't be around to help with that conflict. Simply defeating the Others and thwarting their plans would be a temporary solution to a permanent problem, and, with the CotF facing their own extinction, they would see now as a time for permanent solutions. And when the problem in question is the existence of the Others, there can be only one solution: The CotF want to wipe out the Others completely. I suspect they wanted this ever since the Long Night; they probably see it as cleaning up after their mess. Now, with their extinction looming, that plan to genocide the Others has been made a priority.
I know that my logic has involved jumping around in time a lot, so, as a summary, let me present this handy timeline of the CotF's thoughts on the Others:

• During the war between the CotF and the First Men: "We need the Others to win this war."
• After the Pact was forged: Either "We may not be at war anymore, but we need to keep the Others as our slave soldiers, just in case the humans break the Pact," or "We don't need the Others anymore now that we have the Pact. I'm sure the handful of free Others in the Lands of Always Winter won't be a problem."
• During the Long Night: "The Others are going to drive both us and the First Men to extinction, but there's nothing we can do about it. This sucks."
• After the Long Night: "The Others are vulnerable, but they won't be for long. They're a danger to both us and the humans, and they're our fault. We need to act fast to destroy them, while we still can. That means we need to get the humans and the Others to start fighting again, and then we can help the humans win that war."
• After the Night's Queen was taken prisoner: "This isn't ideal, but the Others are no longer a rising power without their queen, so we can leave well enough alone."
• After it became clear that the CotF were going extinct: "The Others are unable to act against the humans for now, but there's no guarantee that that will last, and we won't be around to oppose the Others forever. We need to genocide the Others, while we're still around to do so."

I want to comment on an interesting theme here. You may notice a certain paternalism in the CotF's attitudes toward humans. This has already demonstrated in the books:

"Two hundred years?" said Meera.
The child smiled. “Men, they are the children.” (ADWD, Bran II)

It has often been observed that the Others, as an existential threat that can only be dealt with if humanity puts away its petty political squabbles, serve as a metaphor for climate change. In this metaphor, the CotF are the older generations that caused climate change in the first place and now are dying off for unrelated reasons. The CotF's behavior can then be seen as an aspirational model for how older generations should behave with regards climate change. Rather than saying, "Fuck it, I'll be dead, so it's not my problem," they ought to say, "I'm partly responsible for this, so I need to fix it, and the fact that I won't be around that much longer only means I need to work harder to fix it while I still can." Sadly, the CotF only behave the way they do because of their inhuman psychology, which points to the fact that it was never realistic to hope that older generations would behave this way in real life. I doubt this theme is intentional; Martin seems to have originally not seen the Others as a climate change metaphor, although he's since come around to the idea. Still, I think it's a neat connection.

It was Bloodraven all along

If the CotF really want to wipe out the Others, then the current situation at Winterfell must seem perfect for them. I argued in my last post that the events of the series have left Winterfell vulnerable, and the Others are now planning a rescue mission to extract their queen from the Winterfell crypts. With their queen no longer held captive, there will be nothing preventing war between humans and Others (and, after the humans kept the Night's Queen imprisoned for thousands of years, the Others will definitely have cause for war), and this war will happen while the CotF are still around to support the humans. Better still, humanity has dragons again, which will surely be useful against the Others. Everything seems to be going swimmingly for the CotF's plan to provoke a war of extermination against the Others, which raises an obvious question: did the CotF cause the current situation?
To grossly oversimplify a complex series of events, Winterfell's vulnerability can be traced back to two events:

• Ned going to King's Landing, and subsequently getting beheaded. This caused all of the Starks except for Bran and Rickon to leave Winterfell, and it caused the Northern army to march south, leaving Winterfell vulnerable to…
• Theon capturing Winterfell, and subsequently losing it to Ramsay. This physically damaged Winterfell, it caused Bran and Rickon to leave, and it meant that Winterfell was now under Bolton control, which put it at the center of both Stannis's war and the various Northern intrigues.

As it happens, there's evidence that Bloodraven played a part in both of these events. First, Bloodraven was probably responsible for sending the direwolves to the Stark children (link to a series of posts by JoeMagician that lays out this argument, among other claims), and these direwolves shaped the events that led to Ned's beheading. Summer killed Bran's assassin before he could murder Bran, but also before he could be interrogated by the Starks; as a result, Catelyn acquired the Valyrian steel dagger, but she didn't know who sent the assassin. Littlefinger took advantage of this to manipulate the Starks. Meanwhile, the Nymeria/Lady incident deepened tensions between the Starks and the Lannisters. I'm not saying that the direwolves exist solely for the purpose of getting Ned's beheaded, but they did contribute to his beheading, by providing Littlefinger with a means of manipulating the Starks and by further souring relations between Ned and Cersei.
More significantly, Bloodraven removed Bran's memory of Jaime pushing him from the tower:

Bran was staring at his arms, his legs. He was so skinny, just skin stretched taut over bones. Had he always been so thin? He tried to remember. A face swam up at him out of the grey mist, shining with light, golden. "The things I do for love," it said.
Bran screamed.
The crow took to the air, cawing. Not that, it shrieked at him. Forget that, you do not need it now, put it aside, put it away. It landed on Bran’s shoulder, and pecked at him, and the shining golden face was gone. (AGOT, Bran III)

If Bran had kept that memory, then he presumably would have woken up and told someone, "Jaime Lannister pushed me out of the tower, after I saw him wrestling naked with Queen Cersei." How exactly this would have changed the events of the book is a matter of fanfic, but, with eye-witness evidence of Jaime and Cersei committing incest and attempted murder, it's very easy to see things going poorly for the Lannisters. Even Cersei recognized how difficult of a situation that would have been to navigate:

If truth be told, Jaime had come to rue heaving Brandon Stark out that window. Cersei had given him no end of grief afterward, when the boy refused to die. "He was seven, Jaime," she’d berated him. "Even if he understood what he saw, we should have been able to frighten him into silence."
"I didn’t think you’d want—"
"You never think. If the boy should wake and tell his father what he saw—"
"If if if." He had pulled her into his lap. “If he wakes we’ll say he was dreaming, we’ll call him a liar, and should worse come to worst I’ll kill Ned Stark."
"And then what do you imagine Robert will do?" (ASOS, Jaime I)

Had Bran kept his memory of Jaime pushing him out of the window, then it likely would have been Cersei and Jaime's downfall, and that means Ned wouldn't have lost his head.
Later, when Theon takes Winterfell, he wakes up suddenly in the middle of the night, and he gets the feeling that someone was responsible for waking him:

One moment he was asleep; the next, awake.
Kyra nestled against him, one arm draped lightly over his, her breasts brushing his back. He could hear her breathing, soft and steady. The sheet was tangled about them. It was the black of night. The bedchamber was dark and still.
What is it? Did I hear something? Someone?
Wind sighed faintly against the shutters. Somewhere, far off, he heard the yowl of a cat in heat. Nothing else. Sleep, Greyjoy, he told himself. The castle is quiet, and you have guards posted. At your door, at the gates, on the armory.
He might have put it down to a bad dream, but he did not remember dreaming. (ACOK, Theon IV)

This was the chapter where Bran and company "escape," and Theon's primary emotions throughout the chapter are anxiety and desperation. Those feelings build over the course of the day, as Theon tries and fails to find Bran and Rickon, eventually consuming him to the point where he does something stupid.

"Joseth has the right of it," said Maester Luwin. "Groping through the woods by torchlight will avail us nothing."
Theon could taste bile at the back of his throat, and his stomach was a nest of snakes twining and snapping at each other. If he crept back to Winterfell empty-handed, he might as well dress in motley henceforth and wear a pointed hat; the whole north would know him for a fool. And when my father hears, and Asha …
"M’lord prince." Reek urged his horse near. (ACOK, Theon IV)

Theon woke up in the middle of the night with a sense that something was off, and then he had plenty of time to stew in his anxiety. Were it not for that, he might not have descended to the point where killing the miller's boys seemed like a good idea. Therefore, the hint that someone was responsible for waking him up is interesting; maybe Bloodraven used his psychic tree powers to wake Theon? The passage mentions the "sigh" of wind—a notably anthropomorphic phrasing—and we know that, when Bran tried to communicate with Ned in the past, it sounded like wind to him; maybe Bloodraven can do something similar, sans time travel? There's nothing explicitly pointing to Bloodraven, but there is evidence that he's messing with Theon's emotions in his next chapter:

The sky was a gloom of cloud, the woods dead and frozen. Roots grabbed at Theon’s feet as he ran, and bare branches lashed his face, leaving thin stripes of blood across his cheeks. He crashed through heedless, breathless, icicles flying to pieces before him. Mercy, he sobbed. From behind came a shuddering howl that curdled his blood. Mercy, mercy. When he glanced back over his shoulder he saw them coming, great wolves the size of horses with the heads of small children. Oh, mercy, mercy. Blood dripped from their mouths black as pitch, burning holes in the snow where it fell. Every stride brought them closer. Theon tried to run faster, but his legs would not obey. The trees all had faces, and they were laughing at him, laughing, and the howl came again. He could smell the hot breath of the beasts behind him, a stink of brimstone and corruption. They’re dead, dead, I saw them killed, he tried to shout, I saw their heads dipped in tar, but when he opened his mouth only a moan emerged, and then something touched him and he whirled, shouting … (ACOK, Theon V)

Theon feels guilty for faking Bran and Rickon's death, and he's afraid for his future; that guilt and fear would have existed in him no matter what, but these dreams amplify those feelings, and the presence of weirwood trees suggests that Bloodraven is actively sending them to Theon. After all, none of Theon's experiences have involved a weirwood in any significant capacity, so this wasn't a native element of his dream, and Bran often has dreams about a weirwood that are implied to be sent by Bloodraven. Theon's fear and his attempts to rationalize his guilt drive him to cling desperately to his power and authority:

"Your prize will be the doom of you. Krakens rise from the sea, Theon, or did you forget that during your years among the wolves? Our strength is in our longships. My wooden pisspot sits close enough to the sea for supplies and fresh men to reach me whenever they are needful. But Winterfell is hundreds of leagues inland, ringed by woods, hills, and hostile holdfasts and castles. And every man in a thousand leagues is your enemy now, make no mistake. You made certain of that when you mounted those heads on your gatehouse." Asha shook her head. "How could you be such a bloody fool? Children …"
"They defied me!" he shouted in her face. "And it was blood for blood besides, two sons of Eddard Stark to pay for Rodrik and Maron." The words tumbled out heedlessly, but Theon knew at once that his father would approve. "I’ve laid my brothers’ ghosts to rest." (ACOK, Theon V)

All of this causes Theon to reject Asha's offer to leave Winterfell for Deepwood Motte, which results in Ramsay sacking Winterfell. So, to summarize, Bloodraven provided the Lannisters with advantages so that they would triumph in their intrigues against Ned, and he psychologically manipulated Theon so that he would lose Winterfell to Ramsay. Bloodraven has actively worked to create the circumstances that have left Winterfell vulnerable, so that the Others will be able to rescue their queen and begin a new war against the humans. I don't want to fall into the trap of claiming that Bloodraven was responsible for everything; I think that most events in the story happened without his direct interference. But, thanks to his greensight giving him glimpses of the future, Bloodraven has found a few places where just a small nudge can result in things going the way he wants them to.
Of course, putting Winterfell in a vulnerable position only matters if the Others know about that vulnerability. Bloodraven must have some communication with the Others. I'm not sure what this communication looks like; if the Others can dream, then it might just mean sending them green dreams prophesying Winterfell's coming vulnerability. Alternatively, Bloodraven might be communicating with them directly by skinchanging into a raven. Maybe he's posing as a human traitor, willing to sell out the humans and the CotF, a kind of second Night's King? This is definitely the biggest missing piece in my theory, but I don't think it's too outlandish to posit Bloodraven has some means of getting information to the Others, and that he's thereby clued the Others in on Winterfell's coming vulnerability.

A politically useful apocalypse

I've talked a lot about the CotF's motivations, but not at all about Bloodraven's, so let's do that now. I'd recommend you read this excellent series of posts on Bloodraven, which I'll be drawing from heavily. Prior to becoming the Last Greenseer, Bloodraven was primarily occupied with the Blackfyres. He played a crucial role in ending the First Blackfyre Rebellion, including but not limited to killing Daemon Blackfyre and his eldest two sons, and since then he went to every effort to foil future Blackfyre attempts to claim the Iron Throne. Some people have speculated that Bloodraven did so out of duty and a desire to keep the realm stable, but this doesn't hold up. Following Maekar I's death, a Great Council was held to determine the succession, and Bloodraven invited and then immediately killed Aenys Blackfyre. Bloodraven later claimed that this was for the good of the realm, but… how? If the Great Council had selected Aenys as the next king, the crown would have passed to him just as peacefully and rightfully as it ended up passing to Aegon V. If Bloodraven was truly motivated by duty and a desire for peace, he would have had no reason to kill Aenys. The only explanation for Bloodraven's actions is that he genuinely did not want a Blackfyre to take the throne, no matter the circumstances surrounding their accession. In fact, his anti-Blackfyre obsession was so intense that he ignored the devastation caused by Dagon Greyjoy, because addressing it would leave the throne vulnerable to the Blackfyres:

"Myself, I blame Bloodraven," Ser Kyle went on. "He is the King's Hand, yet he does nothing, whilst the krakens spread flame and terror up and down the sunset sea."
Ser Maynard gave a shrug. "His eye is fixed on Tyrosh, where Bittersteel sits in exile, plotting with the sons of Daemon Blackfyre. So he keeps the king's ships close at hand, lest they attempt to cross." (The Mystery Knight)

It's important to note that Maynard Plumm was probably a glamored Bloodraven, so this isn't mere speculation; this is Bloodraven telling us his motivation. By all accounts, Bloodraven's tenure as Hand was an awful time for Westeros, where law and order broke down and few people respected the king. The point is, Bloodraven was not a noble man fighting against a beloved brother because it was the right thing to do. Bloodraven was a Targaryen uber-loyalist, who would gladly see the realm burn, so long as a Targaryen remained on the throne. And he appears to have retained that loyalty, decades later. Bloodraven is likely in control of Mormont's raven (see the series of posts I linked earlier), and in raven form Bloodraven hints fairly clearly about wanting Jon to be king:

"Aemon knew, and rightly, that if he remained at court those who disliked his brother’s rule would seek to use him, so he came to the Wall. And here he has remained, while his brother and his brother’s son and his son each reigned and died in turn, until Jaime Lannister put an end to the line of the Dragonkings."
"King," croaked the raven. The bird appeared across the solar to land on Mormont’s shoulder. "King," it said again, strutting back and forth. (ACOK, Jon I)

Something similar happens in ADWD, but what's interesting about this instance of the raven calling Jon king is that it happens immediately after Mormont claims that the Targaryen line has ended. This suggests that this is more than just a prophetic statement of fact; this is a profession of loyalty. Jon is the rightful Targaryen king, and he has Bloodraven's support.
Given his undying Targaryen loyalty, Bloodraven must be psyched about the coming war between the humans and the Others. Daenerys is coming with three dragons, which will be humanity's best hope for defeating the Others; Westeros will naturally rally behind Daenerys, solidifying her rule. Moreover, dragons will be seen as the saviors of Westeros, rather than as dangerous weapons. If Marwyn was right that the maesters killed the dragons, then this would prevent a similar conspiracy from arising and driving the dragons back into extinction, since the dragons would now be seen as necessary for Westeros's security against the forces of evil. So while Bloodraven wants to provoke a war between humans and Others, just like the CotF do, he wants this for a different reason than they do; Bloodraven wants to use the Others to bring about a lasting Targaryen restoration.

Continued in comments

I (F23) was trying to try dating again because my friends were convincing me for so long. so I texted a guy (M33) I knew but never really talked to. We live close to each other and we both have office that are close to each other as well so he picked me up from work 2 times and dropped me home coz he got off from work at the same time. So I asked him out very openly. I asked him if he wants to hang some day, grab coffee and he said sure I'll pick you up after work and we can go home together. I was very clear in showing my interest in him. Dont think he took the hints as he texted me today and asked if you're free after work. I said sure. He then replied saying "do you have any issue if there will be another female who will be tagging along coz i have to drop her in the way". I then cleared it further that I was actually thinking about 'fun hangout' and not some uber service. He then replied "ab wo car mai to nahi ho skta" IM CRYING... I just asked for coffee and wanted to get to know him a little and was very clear with my intentions. Man straight up went to sex. So I apologized to him and told him i cant do it.
Tldr; I asked a guy out and he said he'll be bringing another girl as he thought he will be just dropping me home. I then clarified that i was looking for some fun hangout not uber service and his mind went straight to sex so i apologized.
Edit: Guys please. Im not gonna date anyone from an online platform. Not anymore lol so save your dms. Im only just here to share my life experiences staying anonymous.

My husband (31m) and I (32f) have been together for 15 years, married for 6. His parents (71m and 68f) have made it known that I was not what they wanted in a daughter-in-law. I’m someone who stands up for what they believe in, I’m passionate about my career, have some mental health stuff-anxiety, adhd, bipolar, love to laugh, travel and have fun. They wanted a quiet, little housewife who goes along with anything they say and pops out babies every year. They have two other children (45f and 52m) who both have children but live out of state. For about 8 years now they have been obnoxiously and relentlessly obsessed with us having kids. Neither my husband or I want children. We have talked a lot about it and agree that it wouldn’t be a good idea. Both my husband and I have had numerous conversations with them about how it would not be safe for me to have a child-again mental health issues. I cannot go off my meds, which I have discussed with all my doctors and they agree. In-laws don’t seem to care and continue to hint and ask and obsess about kids. MIL and I work in the same office which makes things even harder. When there is a baby in the office, which happens frequently, MIL makes snarky, rude and outright mean comments to basically anyone who will listen. I told her AGAIN today that I will not be having children and both her son and I do not want to be parents. She continued to talk about adoption and surrogacy and having babies. I don’t know what to do anymore. Both my husband and I are getting to the point of not being around them anymore due to this. Sorry it’s long-needed to vent and have a little cry.

First Previous
Memory Transcription Subject: Vani, Venlil Surgeon
Date [Standard Human Reckoning]: 2136-10-22
Secluded in the comfort of our cabin, I found myself savoring the rare moments of peace with Johan. The bustling camp did not afford us the luxury of privacy, and this precious pocket of calmness felt like a gift. Lying on the bed together, we did not feel the need to fill the silence with words or engage in any couple of activities. I felt an inherent satisfaction in just lying there together.
"Vani," Johan's voice filled the quiet cabin.
"Johan."
"I'm... I'm afraid of going back," he confessed.
I considered his words before asking, "Do you have many friends back in Jakarta?"
His gaze stayed on the ceiling as he replied, "Other than Snop... not. I guess, in a twisted way, that's a kind of luck?"
I watched as he rolled onto his side to face me, his eyes searching mine. "I count myself beyond fortunate to have met you." His fingers stroked my mane. His light touch felt heavy and comforting. "Even if we were in Jakarta when they implemented the quota they would have let me evacuate with you."
For a while, we just lay there, appreciating each other, our silent exchanges speaking volumes.
When we arrived at the ship, it was still the second or third hour of the day. I forgot when I fell asleep, but Johan's alarm woke us up the same. When we stepped out of our cabin, we found Tresn and the siblings lounging in the common area. Tresn now had the prostheses in his paws. The device twitched every now and there. Meanwhile, the siblings were engrossed in their thoughts or busy with their pads.
In the common area, we had our first meal aboard the vessel. We sat near the window, our portal to the world outside. Through the clear pane, the black water merged with the black sky, and I felt like being suspended in a void. Yet, despite this sense of absolute stillness, the ship flew above the water at a speed above fifty meters per second. Sometime after we had cleared our plates, our surrounding transformed. The sun, breaking the confines of the horizon, began its ascent. Although we were facing away from this bright ball in the sky, its effect was no less mesmerizing. Dawn overtook the black sky. First, the once pitch-black sky took on a shade of deep purple. A transition to an intense, deep red followed it soon after.
Perhaps two or three hours after the sunrise, the coastline of Cirebon began to emerge, peeking out from the edge of the horizon. Its unblemished skyline shone in stark contrast to the devastation reported in Jakarta.
Elangkasa joined us in the common area before we landed.
"Hi folks." They greeted me. "So, I might have forgotten to tell you all that you'll go to Purwakarta Sector 12 as volunteers."
"We don't mind." Said Johan. "I'm glad if I can be of help."
Elangkasa then briefed us on our job in Purwakarta Sector 12, Bolad and I would join the health workers. Johan and Cynthio had put aside their differences, nodding in agreement when Elangkasa assigned them to service and maintain the drones for rescue. Snop agreed when they asked her for help in construction with her skills in operating machining tools.
The armed forces had commandeered this once bustling commercial hub and had transformed it into a temporary base and staging area just like in Banjarmasin. Once we disembarked, Bolad and I joined Johan in his van again. A map of the region appeared on the dashboard. A red pinpoint marked the ovation where the bomb fell and a circle around it, the area of effect.
My classes both in Venlil Prime and Earth did not teach me about orbital bombardment and here I learned that one needs to get into a bunker in times like this. Because, for tens of kilometers, the bomb would heat the air to the point of causing tissue damage. The map showed a region where you will face severe burn injury if you stayed outside when the explosion happened. Amid the circle depicting the zones of devastation, one stark red marker pulsated with disconcerting energy. It lay within the severe heat zone. Its constant glow commanded my immediate attention.
"Johan," I ventured, pointing at the glaring red marker that almost seemed to taunt us, "That red marker there is your home, is it not?"
His eyes shifted from the barren road to the display, taking in the red beacon that represented his home. "Yeah…" He let out a sigh, heavy with desolation within the confines of the vehicle. "I wonder what's left of that house now."
As we drew nearer to the affected area, I steeled myself for the scenes of destruction. However, the buildings seemed to have withstood the assault better than I expected. Of course, we could see the scars of the attack, the shockwave shattered windows and some structures had superficial cracks. A general sense of disarray permeated our surroundings, but the core structures stood against the odds.
Cities and towns dotting the outskirts of the Greater Jakarta Province had been retrofitted with camps to accommodate the droves of displaced people emerging from the ruins of the once-thriving metropolis. In recent days, the tide has started to turn. Able-bodied survivors moved back towards their shattered homes, driven by the urge to reclaim and restore what they could salvage from the debris.
Our journey led us to the city of Purwakarta, a place I remembered from a past excursion with Johan. We had once visited the city's reservoir, taking in the tranquil beauty of the idyllic landscape. The city has changed now. A bustling hive of activity transformed the city as it took refuge for those fleeing the destruction.
Because of the scale of the destruction, we didn't have a single "camp" as we had for the gojids. The refugee districts were divided into Sectors. We pulled into sector twelve as the midday sun reached its zenith, casting almost no shadow on the ground. Prefabricated buildings of varying sizes formed an ordered chaos across the city's outskirts.
Everywhere we looked, people occupied themselves in a frenzy of activity. Here, soldiers oversaw the transport of food and materials. There, health workers moved to check from the habitation unit to the habitation unit. Engineers collaborate with helper and builder drones to perform maintenance and construction. All around, people took on roles they never imagined they would, united by the common goal of survival and restoration.
Despite the dire circumstances, the humans put on determined faces. Humans made the majority of camp inhabitants, but I spotted two arxurs here, their imposing presence always accompanied by a human minder. Both of them shot a look in disgust at Tresn, while humans looked at the defector with an equal part of concern and curiosity.
Elangkasa led us through the camp. First, we passed the engineering quarter where my human and the siblings parted from us. Another trip led us to the medical complex, where we saw medical personnel moving with well-practiced efficiency to care for the injured. A conglomeration of tents and prefabricated buildings all bearing the red crystal symbol made up the hospital. The bustle here felt different, it had an undercurrent of urgency threaded through the ordered chaos.
At the entrance of the hospital's administration building a zurulian had waited for us. Her short stature did not deter us. Upon noticing us, however, her expression turned sour.
"I have a feeling I'm not supposed to be here." Said Tresn. "Maybe... I can get to the habitation unit?"
"You need some help with physiotherapy. Can you bring him there, Elangkasa?" said Bolad.
"Yeah, take that to a human health worker. I'm not going to treat it." The zurulian said with a huff.
"I am Bolad, and this is Vani." The gojid introduced ourselves.
"I'm Rawan, the medical Coordinator for Sector Twelve, Shift Two."
My stomach rumbled, a reminder that it was midday, mealtime according to Earth's cycle.
Sensing my discomfort, Rawan commented. "Hungry already? Well, we are on a lunch break right now. Follow me," leading us away from the hospital administration.
According to the map, there exist two dining areas, located far from each other. The one Rawan brought us to, served plant-based meals for species with a herbivorous diet, the other was where arxurs and their human minders feast.
Stepping into the hall felt comforting. It felt as if an invisible barrier dampened the harsh sounds of the bustling camp outside, replaced by the familiar din of a busy dining hall. Members of Federation species, like us, gathered here. I saw zurulians, colleagues of Dr. Rawan, along with several gojids who had responded to the call for assistance in the rescue, relief, and rebuilding efforts.
The dining procedure here was not like what we had at the camp. Instead of autonomous carts coming around to deliver our meals, we had to stand in line. Humans manned the serving counters, dishing out meals onto trays as we moved along. The menu today consists of a stir-fried noodle and rice combination, named "Nasi Mawut".
After getting our portions, we selected an empty table, the tantalizing taste in the air from our tray deepened my hunger and anticipation. We set down our trays, and with a collective eagerness, took our seats.
"To be honest," Rawan began, her gaze sweeping over the crowded dining hall before returning to her meal, "This is often the highlight of my day here." She gestured towards her plate and scoffed, "Imagine that, I, a zurulian, looking forward to a predator's meal."
"To be fair," I retorted, "this meal is not prepared from ingredients they acquired from hunting."
Rawan chuckled a high-keening sound that made her sound like she was in distress. "Sometimes," she mused, her eyes thoughtful as she poked at her food, "I do wonder why they feel the need to consume flesh when they can subsist on meals such as these."
Not wanting to engage in a sensitive debate with a superior officer we had just met, I opted for silence, focusing instead on the pleasant taste of the Nasi Mawut before us.
A voice broke the quiet chatter around us. A gojid, appearing youthful by their standards, made his way toward our table with a casual gait. A broad smile adorned his face as he acknowledged us. "Hey, doctors! Fancy seeing you here again."
"Greetings," Bolad replied with a courteous nod. "I hope the presence of arxurs has not caused you undue distress?"
I looked at the gojid's hip and saw a familiar scar. I recognized him as the one gored by the sheep back at the camp.
A robust laugh escaped from the gojid, his face brightening up. He waved off Bolad's concerns, "No worries, Doc. We've got a human minder assigned to us to keep those predators in check. And we also have a buddy system, safety in numbers, you know."
"That is good to hear," Bolad responded. Although my facial annotator had learned a lot about gojids' gestures and expressions, it kept interpreting Bolad's emotion as a blank.
A small device strapped to the gojid's wrist chirped. The gojid glanced at it before looking back up to us with a swift nod. "Ah, duty calls. Well, it was nice chatting with you, Doc!" With that, he swung around, his round figure merging with the crowd as he strode towards the exit.
Once the gojid departed, Rawan, Bolad, and I continued to sit and chat over the remains of our meal. Bolad and I shared stories about our experiences in the gojid camp in Kalimantan. The pervasive sound of a resounding announcement filled the hall, halting our exchange. An impersonal voice echoed from the overhead speakers.
"Shift Two! Your break time will be over in ten minutes. I repeat. Shift Two! Your break time will be over in ten minutes." The forceful announcement marked the conclusion of our pause, a reminder of the tasks that awaited us.
"Well, that's our cue," the medical coordinator announced, getting up from her seat. Her hands reached for her tray but having to maneuver in bipedal mode made the action seem awkward.
"Allow me," I offered, reaching for her tray to assist. "I'll carry it to the collection point."
"Thank you," she responded.
As I made my way to the collection point, Bolad engaged Rawan in a conversation. "How many shifts are there in a day?" he queried.
Rawan turned to Bolad. "We work with a four-shift rotation. The humans initially wanted three, due to their unusual stamina," she explained.
Once we discarded the tray Rawan led us back to the medical complex of Sector Twelve.
"Our main goal here is to offer immediate care to the injured and aid in their recovery." She started when we passed the gate of the medical complex.
Rawan gestured towards a cluster of tents assembled off to the side. A perpetual flurry of activity surrounded them as people carried patients in and out on stretchers. "These are our triage tents," Rawan explained. "New patients are first brought here for evaluation. Depending on the severity of their injuries, they are then dispatched to the appropriate sections for treatment. Bolad, you'll be stationed here. Your expertise in general medicine will be invaluable in assessing patients."
Our tour continued, taking us through the maze of the field hospital. We walked past prefabricated structures, erected with solid synthetic materials.
"These," Rawan proclaimed, her paw sweeping towards the buildings, "are our operating theaters. We haven't been able to install remote surgical facilities. Though, given your preference, that shouldn't be an issue..."
"I do favor direct surgery," I confessed, revealing a bit of my past.
Rawan halted, her sharp gaze taking both of us in. Her snout was positioned between Bolad and me looking at us from her peripheral vision. "I've reviewed both of your files," she said, focusing her attention on me. "I've worked with your kind before. You have your use in times and places like this."
Neither Bolad nor I questioned her use of the term "your kind", but we all know what she implied here.
"Now, it's time for you to report to your stations," Rawan instructed us, her tone leaving no room for debate. "The human health workers already in the field will brief you on the specific protocols we've established here."
The moment I crossed the threshold into the operating theater, I was confronted with an open fracture. The sterile operating rooms of the past, where I donned a vacuum suit to prevent my fur from contaminating the environment, seemed a world away. Here, a disposable robe was all that separated me from my patient. I plunged into hours of repairing human bodies, and I feel more useful than I had ever felt before. As valuable as my previous role of determining causes of death was, I feel a satisfying gratification in saving lives.
As I immersed myself in the demanding tasks of the medical field, my mind sometimes drifted toward Bolad. While my duties were straightforward, applying proven techniques and procedures, Bolad grappled with the daunting responsibility of determining the course of our patient's treatment. His role dictated the trajectory of their recovery or, in the worst cases, their demise. The magnitude of such a responsibility could be soul-crushing, and I wished that it did not burden him.
Before I knew it, a new team arrived ready for me to hand over my job to them. The end of our shift brought us to a prefabricated habitation unit, a space similar to our quarters in the camp. Due to spatial constraints, the unit contained three bunk beds instead of the usual row of mattresses.
When Bolad and I arrived at our living quarters, we found Johan, the siblings, and Tresn already present. They all gathered around a table, engrossed in a spirited card game.
"Vani! Bolad!" Johan looked up from his hand of cards, a warm smile spreading across his face. "How was your day?"
Bolad answered before I could. "I had to watch people die."
A stark silence filled the air. Johan's smile faltered as he bit his lip.
"Bolad was assigned to the triage area," I clarified, stepping in to defuse the tension.
"But you can request a rotation if the stress becomes too much," I offered, directing my words at Bolad as I hoisted myself onto an unoccupied chair. "What about you two?" I inquired, shifting the focus onto Johan and his siblings.
"We had to program the drones and-" Johan began, but Cynthio interrupted his explanation.
"They removed all the restrictions," Cynthio said. "We got to work with unrestricted synthetic intelligence! What we had to do felt less like programming and more like... talking with them." The joy and excitement on Cynthio's face were obvious even without my facial annotator.
Tresn placed a card onto the pile in the middle of the table, interjecting a question that caught us off guard. "By the way… how difficult is it to get to Sector Ten?"
"You could walk there if you wanted. Why do you ask?" Johan responded, curious about the sudden interest in another sector.
"There's someone I want to meet," Tresn admitted, a hint of hesitation in his voice.
"Hmm…" Snop considered, tilting her head. "We have about two or three hours before the breaking of the fast. How did you come to know this person?"
"The Internet," Tresn replied.
"Oh…" Snop replied, her face attempting to maintain neutrality and almost failing.
Intrigued by Tresn's unexpected online connection, we decided to accompany him on the short journey to Sector Ten. Leaving our habitation unit, we found ourselves navigating the ad hoc alleyways of Camp Sectors. Humans of all ages hustled past us, their faces a mosaic of determination and sorrow, each one bearing the weight of rebuilding amidst the ruins.
The further we ventured towards Sector Ten, the more conspicuous the increase in the arxurs' presence became. Given their nocturnal tendencies, I surmised that most Arxurs preferred anything but the second shifts.
Upon reaching the main plaza of Sector Ten, Tresn pulled out his pad, fingers dancing over the screen to access a social media site. I saw intensity in his actions, as he engaged in a private chat with a rapid succession of texts. He scanned his surrounding and his instinctive predatory gaze locked onto a specific figure in the bustling crowd, a human who was also looking around. An arxur shadowed him, their movements synchronized as if orchestrated by a shared rhythm.
Tresn wheeled first and we followed him toward the pair, our formation taking on a semi-circular shape around them. The human had close-cropped curly hair and his upper revealed his arm. A band covered his right arm and there was something off about the rest of that limb. The skin looked too smooth.
"Wait…" Snop, ever the observant one, pointed a finger toward the human, her voice laced with recognition. "I think… I know you."
The human responded by pointing back at Snop. "Aren't you Snowpaws?"
She nodded in affirmation. "Yeah, and you're… Jagomerah?"
A smile of confirmation danced on the human's lips. "Yeah."
Johan, who had been watching the interaction unfold, broke into a musing grin, "Jagomerah… that has to be a screen name," he remarked, shifting his gaze toward Tresn.
"Tresn," Johan began, an amused undertone in his voice, "You have been chatting with furries haven't you?"
"Scallies." Both Snop and Jagomerah corrected.

On the weekends, I like to go to used book stores. I know that the internet has kind of made books obsolete, but there’s just something I enjoy about walking around and looking at all the books people have read even if I never plan on reading them myself. Sometimes you see something that just looks absolutely terrible and you wonder to yourself who the author actually thought their intended audience was going to be. Case in point, look at the horror genre. The used book stores are lined shelf to shelf with shitty horror novels that are all essentially just variations on the same few ideas. The instant something actually original comes out a hundred hack writers fart out their own version of it, and then any charm the original idea had is completely gone.
To be honest, it’s ridiculous to me that something like the horror genre even exists in fiction. I don’t know how anybody could possibly read a story and then get scared by it. Movies, at least there are audio and visual components. I think I only got scared by a movie one time, anyway. It was this Japanese movie called Noroi. The first half has these fake news reels that have this vibe where it’s like something you’d see on some obscure website in the early 2000s. There were all sorts of strange videos and images that you would find back then and they would always have some kind of backstory attached to them and you were never really sure how much of it all was real. I suppose that’s what made it scary, was that uncertainty.
Anyway, that’s why I like going to used book stores. Sometimes I even buy stuff while I’m at them. Usually what I’ll do is I’ll just pick out books at random, skim a few pages or read the back cover or something like that, and then see how I feel about the whole thing. I’ll take my chances every once in a while. The books only cost a few bucks, anyway, so if they end up sucking it’s not a huge deal. I read this one book that was like an encyclopedia of racial slurs and for each one it gave like the origin and its historical context and some examples of its usage. At first I thought it had been written as a joke but there was way too much effort put into it for it to be a joke. Also, it was written in the 1980s, back when people were really serious about being racist towards each other. Even if I don’t condone the contents, it was an interesting read.
Now, on the particular occasion that I’m describing I was going through the general fiction section and had pulled out a book titled “A Simple Man” by a guy named Lance Jack. The back cover didn’t really tell me much about the book, so I flipped to a random page and started reading. It seemed to be describing the morning routine of the protagonist, a man named Claude. He woke up, took a shower, ate breakfast, and then went off to work. I skipped ahead a bit. Claude was getting fired from his job. I skipped ahead a little more. Claude was looking for a new job but couldn’t find anything that appealed to him. I suppose that sounds boring, but it had been a while since I’d purchased anything at a used book store and this particular book was giving off some pretty good vibes. So, I guess I should say that I bought it on a whim. It was only two dollars, anyway, so I wasn’t too worried about my investment not paying off.
I started reading the book when I got home. It opened with Claude’s childhood in southeastern Oregon. At school, he was too shy to make friends and spent most of his free time reading and watching movies. He eventually managed to fall in with a group of guys that were kind of like him, but not really. I’m sure you know how those things go. After high school he went to college and studied computer science. He didn’t love computer science or anything, but he also didn’t dislike it enough to change majors. He just kind of put up with it. After he graduated he moved on to different IT jobs, and that’s about as far as I managed to read. Obviously a lot more happened than that, but I’m just giving a sort of broad outline of things.
As I read the book, I began to notice a lot of strange – I guess you would call them “coincidences”. Well, I was born in southeastern Oregon, too, and in the same year as Claude – 1992. The general pattern of his life matched mine thus far, but more concerning were the specifics. When Claude was 7, he was run over by a golf cart and broke a leg. When he was 9, he played Ocarina of Time and developed a sexual attraction to Princess Ruto. When he was 14, he tried asking his crush out on a date and then threw up on her, and then for the rest of the year everyone called him “Barf Boy”. When he was 17, he was tricked into going to prom with one of his bullies who had dressed as a woman, who revealed the truth just as Claude was going in for a kiss. When he was 20, a bear attacked him while he was hiking and he was forced to kill it using a makeshift spear. And so on. All of these things happened to me, too, exactly as they happened to Claude. I was stunned, to say the least. This was my life that I was reading. The only difference was the names of the characters.
I didn’t pick the book up again until about a week later. Something like that takes a while to really come to terms with. After a few days, though, I started to get curious. I mean, everything I’d read so far matched my life perfectly, but if I kept reading I would eventually reach today, and everything after that would be the future. Would those things happen, too? I mean, the book had just been lying on that shelf for who knows how long. When had it even been written? There was no publication date, and I couldn’t find any information about the author online. I had to keep going, just to make sure. Just to see for myself.
And so I read, and before long I found the point where the past and the future split away (colloquially, this place is known as the “present”). Claude was trapped in a state of melancholy because he didn’t find his job fulfilling. He didn’t have much going on outside of work, either. Anybody he’d once considered a friend had moved away long ago, and he found it hard to muster the energy to go out and meet new people. Then, one day, he was suddenly fired from his job for “performance issues”. I vaguely remembered that part from when I’d first skimmed the book, and while I was definitely in a state of melancholy I had not yet been fired from my job. So, I told myself that I would put the book away and try not to think about it, and if I got fired in the same way Claude did then I’d really freak out.
It happened a couple of months later. I was called into the boss’ office and given the same speech that Claude was given in the book. I was a valuable employee but lately my performance just hadn’t been up to par and, unfortunately, they were replacing me with someone else. Something like that. Well, I knew from the start how this whole thing was going to go, so I just sat there and took it. There were other things on my mind.
Once I was back at my apartment, I pulled the book out of its hiding spot and spent a long while just staring at it. I guess this is something that everybody thinks about at some point or another – if you could know the exact day you would die, would you want to? Maybe some things aren’t worth knowing. Maybe they are. Staring at the book, it was hard to really say which side I was on. I supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to read ahead a little. To be honest, my life sucked, so if I knew I had something to look forward to in the future, maybe that would cheer me up. Maybe I’d run into the woman of my dreams while looking for eggs at the grocery store. Maybe the NFTs I’d sunk so much money into would suddenly become profitable and I’d never have to work again. Maybe anything would happen to get me out of this mental rut I’d been in for who knows how long.
Once again I read, onward and onward, chapter after chapter, waiting for something exciting to happen. And then, the book was over. Claude died alone in his apartment, the same apartment he’d lived in his entire adult life, at the age of 63. Nobody mourned for him, nobody cared, and nobody was even aware that he’d ever existed. I couldn’t believe it. I’d read a lot of books in my time, but this one was by far the most boring. It was depressingly boring. In that moment, a deep sense of dread overwhelmed me and I wanted to scream out to someone, but I didn’t because there was nobody to scream out to. This was my life, and all that lies ahead is a void filled with mindless work and people I can’t stand to be around and a stinging desire to try to make things better. The truth is that things will never get any better. That’s what it says in the book, after all.
I spend a lot of time these days lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling. I tell myself that if I can just do something spontaneous, something that goes against what’s in the book, I’ll prove to myself that my life isn’t bound to its pages. But when I think of going out and meeting people or trying something new, I can’t convince myself to follow through. Why is that? It feels like I have writer’s block, only in my brain. Maybe I could try joining something like a book club, I say to myself. Where? How? Which? Would I even enjoy it? Would I even have the energy to go there? Would I even like any of the other people there? Would they like me? Answer one question and two more pop up, like some kind of fucked up verbal hydra. I suppose that some people can ignore all that shit and just go for it, but I can’t.
Sometimes I watch movies to try to hype myself up. You know the one by the guy that made Heat, where Tom Cruise is the bad guy? He gives this little speech to the protagonist, tells him that sitting around and waiting for his dream to come will just end up with him wasting his life away. When the movie’s over I think to myself yeah, it’s time to go out there and do something! My dream is waiting out there and I need to go grab it! But then I wonder to myself what my dream even is. I suppose there’s nothing like a dream inside me, just a cold, dark longing to exist among others like me. Does that count as a dream? I read through the book again, looking for a hint, but Claude is just the same as me. He lays in bed and wonders why his brain’s the way it is. Claude in ten years is no different from the Claude of today, who is no different from the Claude in twenty.
With each day comes a little more dread. Everything that’s happened since I found that book has matched it perfectly, continues to match it perfectly. I’m marching towards an inevitable conclusion, one that’s already been written out for me. Maybe the only thing I can really do is learn to accept my fate. Maybe instead of living in fear I can live in quiet complacency like a barn animal inside its pen. Be honest, what else could a guy like me possibly do?

Dr. Krill was back on Earth.
He had no idea why he always seemed to end up in this insane hellscape, but here he was...
Again…
Shit…
Only the other day he had been caught out in an electrical storm while trying to commute his way to work, which he hadn't particularly appreciated, especially not when massive balls of frozen ice came pelting from the sky with enough power to tear open skin.
What the fuck is this planet!?
Even the humans had been running for cover, and that was saying something!
He would very much have preferred a job where he wasn't in constant danger of getting murdered by the elements on a regular basis.
But this was earth, one day he could be enjoying the sun, the next he was risking heat death, the next he was almost blown away by the wind, and the day after that he was almost whisked away by minor flooding.
Of course, it was either walking to work, or taking public transit which was probably even more dangerous, considering that it had humans on board.
Humans who were half asleep, humans who were strung out on drugs, humans with children, humans with dangerous pets.
Then of course there were the more than mildly xenophobic humans, who were, somehow, under the impression that Krill was there to still earthling jobs, which was not the case at all considering that he had volunteered his time for free.
Krill had no need of monetary compensation, to him, the work was the reward.
He leaned something new every day.
And now, with his current stint working in a human hospital, he was becoming even more acquainted with humanity... not entirely sure if that was in a good way or not.
Of course, Krill more than missed the simple life aboard the harbinger, where most humans were relatively educated and competent, where most stupid injuries came about by overly idiotic actions rather than ignorance – a point could be argued to which one of those things was worse, but, for the moment, Krill was under the impression that willful idiocy was still better than ignorance because at least they knew why they were stupid, and generally openly admitted it to Krill, whereas working with the general populace forced him to have to be patient and understanding towards people who just didn't know any better.
Apparently telling people they are stupid to their faces is seen as off-color in the human medical world even though that is probably exactly what some of the people needed to hear.
Again, he found himself wishing for the harbinger, and for the return of the captain – the biggest idiot of them all.
He idly wondered how he was doing on his little trip across the universe.
He wondered how Sunny was doing, exploring the human world on her own two feet?
He wished he knew when they would be back together.
The UNSC had given them extended shore leave, but they had never specified how long it was going to be, seeming to hint that it was contingent on how the captain felt.
Well…
Krill was under the impression the captain needed to get his ass back here so he would stop having to pull things out of people's butts.
Speaking of pulling things out of people's butts' he was on ER rotation today.
He found that the ER could be the most interesting, or the most infuriating part of a hospital.
Just the other day he had led the surgical team that reattached someone's arm, but then the day before that he had been in the ER to inform a woman that, yes your shortness of breath likely comes from the run you just went on after years of never having exercised.
He took his clipboard and walked into the human waiting room.
He could write a paper on what sort of things it was important for a medical professional to keep in mind when treating humans.
But here was an example of his typical day:
-Isn't this the second time I have seen little Jimmy in here for sticking something up his nose? I understand that he really loves playing with those toys, but you have to understand there is a reason the label says five and up. Yes, it would probably be best if you did not allow him around things he could get stuck in his face.
-Your pregnant. Yes of course, I am sure. I can do a blood test if you like. I know you said you are not sexually active, but I have looked at this blood test twice and a stick test twice and it says you are pregnant. Well, what do you consider sexually active... mmhmmm... Mmmhmmm... well I think it is probably my job to inform you that it is still sex even if the woman is on top.
-You just... fell on it huh? So, you were doing household chores... Naked... And you just so happened to slip and as you were slipping, this item was magically vacuumed up into your colon. Mmmmm hmmm… quick question. Where was this potato located for you to have fallen on it like that? Well, no sir, I am afraid that we probably won't be able to get it out manually, you are going to need a gastrointestinal specialist for that.
-Yes sir, your chest pain probably has something to do with all the cocaine you have been snorting. Cocaine tends to do that to people.
-Ok you are a diabetic trying to control your blood sugar. Ok, I am glad to hear that you have worked on toning down your sugar consumption, that's good, but I am still very concerned about your sugar levels. This is far too high, and I am extremely concerned. Let's go through your diet and see what you have been eating. Have you cut back on soft drinks? Yes, and now you drink a lot of fruit juice... ahh... I see. Well ma'am fruit juice just so happens to contain a lot of sugar, which might be why your blood sugar is so high. Might I suggest drinking some water?
-Ah finally, a real emergency. Yes, your grandmother's breathing problems worry me greatly. Let's get her back in to do an EKG, make sure nothing is going on with her heart. I am glad you brought her in when you did.
-Yes, little Susie is going to be fine. I am glad she knew how to use her epi-pen, excellent work Susie!
-No, I don't care that you have been waiting four hours to see the doctor. Your child has a mild stomachache, their child is having intermittent seizures. No, I will not be calling the medical director in to see you about this.
-Well, that's probably why it hurts so much. The condom is not supposed to cover the balls too.
-No matter how much you deny your use of opiates, when you came in here you weren't breathing and when I gave you Narcan you started breathing again, so I know where my vote is. Please try not to deny these things to your medical professional next time. It is not my job to call the cops. No, I am not going to rat you out. Yes, you could die if you don't tell me about past drug use no matter what it is.
-You got a WHAT in your WHERE!? Why would you stick a toothpick in there? No sir generally most people are not ailed with an itchy urethra, in fact I am pretty sure that is not a thing. Look, I am not judging you sir, but please stop sticking pointy things up into places where they do not belong because you could cause permanent damage.
-Ouch... now remind me again why you were trying to ride your skateboard down the stairs? And you openly admit that you are not good at skating... Because you saw a video? I am very glad you know it was a dumb idea because at least I don't have to say it.
-Ma'am this says analgesic not anal-gesic, the pills are taken orally not as a suppository.
-You have been bleeding once a month for ten years and you are just now coming in about that? I am sorry, but how old are you again? Yes, ma'am this is very normal, here let me get you a pamphlet to read, and if you have any questions feel free to ask one of the nurses.
-So, you don't have any medical history. Well, are you taking any medications? That sure is a lot of medications for someone who does not have any medical history. This one looks like it is for high blood pressure... Sir just because the medication is helping you manage your high blood pressure does not mean that your high blood pressure is cured!
-When I said stay away from beer and only drink clear liquids for the next days, that did not include vodka!
-I know vodka does have alcohol in it, but pouring it on your open sore sure did not help anything, and now you are probably going to need a plastic surgeon to fix this.
-No ma'am you have to put ear drops in both ears. No, the ears are not connected. Yes, your eardrums and you know... your brain are kind of in the way. No there is not a tube that just goes straight through.
-Please stop licking your wound!
-Um no, those bumps on your tongue are not cancer.... They are taste buds.
-Yes, that it a uvula... Yes, it is supposed to be there.
-What made you think sticking ice cubes up your anus would help with your fever? Well, it will not and now you have frost bite in your rectum.
-Sooooo uhhhhh… it was the smell that got you to come in and not the... Maggots?
Krill groaned in relief as he went to clock out.
”Tough day?"
Someone asked,
"I think something needs to be done about medical education on your planet."
The human laughed.
"We have been trying for more than two thousand years. Good lucky making it any better than it already is."
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Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Intro post by me
OC-whole collection
Patreon of the author

Good morning/afternoon,
I usually play MW2 on my desktop, but am at the in-laws for the week so I installed it on my gaming laptop. After installing, I am getting stuck on the MW2 launcher after pressing play on Battle.net. Here is a screenshot: https://ibb.co/YyfhTGK
I tried the following, restarting, and launching after each, to no avail:

• Scan and Repairing game files (no issues found)
• Updated Nvidia drivers via GeForce Experience
• Uninstalling, reinstalling
• Scanning and repairing again (no issues found)
• Running cod.exe as administrator
  • After hitting "Play", nothing happens/loads/pops up.
• Running codlauncher.exe as administrator
  • After hitting "Play", nothing happens/loads/pops up
• **Drove to in-laws, different ISP and network**
• Running both .exe files while "disabling fullscreen optimizations" and "running program in compatibility mode for Windows 8"
  • Tried launching with all options of variables selected/unselected
• Reinstalling DirectX
• Adding cod.exe, codlauncher.exe, battlenet.exe, battlenetlauncher.exe to apps allowed by Firewall
• Retried running apps as administrator, no differences
• Updated Windows
• Running Command Prompt as admin:
  • sfc /scannow
  • any corrupt files were repaired
• Turned off Windows Defender Firewalls
  • Turned back on
• Added bootstrapper and bootstrapper Crash handler to apps allowed by firewall
• Updated to new Nvidia driver released today 30 May 2022
• Rolled back to Nvidia driver to 1 Dec 2023 driver

​
​
I can provide my FULL DxDiag if needed, just seemed very long to paste here.
------------------
System Information
------------------
Time of this report: 5/30/2023, 09:01:42
Machine name: DIENEKES-TO-GO
Machine Id: {3C83E4D8-6FA2-4BD9-A7FE-6CF8254A5C99}
Operating System: Windows 11 Home 64-bit (10.0, Build 22621) (22621.ni_release.220506-1250)
Language: English (Regional Setting: English)
System Manufacturer: HP
System Model: OMEN by HP Laptop 16-b0xxx
BIOS: F.43 (type: UEFI)
Processor: 11th Gen Intel(R) Core(TM) i7-11800H @ 2.30GHz (16 CPUs), ~2.3GHz
Memory: 16384MB RAM
Available OS Memory: 16022MB RAM
Page File: 11479MB used, 9662MB available
Windows Dir: C:\WINDOWS
DirectX Version: DirectX 12
DX Setup Parameters: Not found
User DPI Setting: 120 DPI (125 percent)
System DPI Setting: 144 DPI (150 percent)
DWM DPI Scaling: UnKnown
Miracast: Available, with HDCP
Microsoft Graphics Hybrid: Supported
DirectX Database Version: 1.4.6
DxDiag Version: 10.00.22621.0001 64bit Unicode
------------
DxDiag Notes
------------
Display Tab 1: No problems found.
Display Tab 2: No problems found.
Sound Tab 1: No problems found.
Sound Tab 2: No problems found.
Sound Tab 3: No problems found.
Sound Tab 4: No problems found.
Input Tab: No problems found.
--------------------
DirectX Debug Levels
--------------------
Direct3D: 0/4 (retail)
DirectDraw: 0/4 (retail)
DirectInput: 0/5 (retail)
DirectMusic: 0/5 (retail)
DirectPlay: 0/9 (retail)
DirectSound: 0/5 (retail)
DirectShow: 0/6 (retail)
---------------
Display Devices
---------------
Card name: Intel(R) UHD Graphics
Manufacturer: Intel Corporation
Chip type: Intel(R) UHD Graphics Family
DAC type: Internal
Device Type: Full Device (POST)
Device Key: Enum\PCI\VEN_8086&DEV_9A60&SUBSYS_88FD103C&REV_01
Device Status: 0180200A [DN_DRIVER_LOADEDDN_STARTEDDN_DISABLEABLEDN_NT_ENUMERATORDN_NT_DRIVER]
Device Problem Code: No Problem
Driver Problem Code: Unknown
Display Memory: 8138 MB
Dedicated Memory: 128 MB
Shared Memory: 8010 MB
Current Mode: 2560 x 1440 (32 bit) (165Hz)
HDR Support: Not Supported
Display Topology: Clone
Display Color Space: DXGI_COLOR_SPACE_RGB_FULL_G22_NONE_P709
Color Primaries: Red(0.000625,0.000322), Green(0.000293,0.000586), Blue(0.000146,0.000058), White Point(0.000305,0.000321)
Display Luminance: Min Luminance = 0.500000, Max Luminance = 270.000000, MaxFullFrameLuminance = 270.000000
Monitor Name: Generic PnP Monitor
Monitor Model: unknown
Monitor Id: BOE09E5
Native Mode: 2560 x 1440(p) (60.000Hz)
Output Type: Internal
Monitor Capabilities: HDR Not Supported
Display Pixel Format: DISPLAYCONFIG_PIXELFORMAT_32BPP
Advanced Color: Not Supported
Monitor Name: Generic PnP Monitor
Monitor Model: VIOTEK GN27DB
Monitor Id: VTK0270
Native Mode: 2560 x 1440(p) (59.951Hz)
Output Type: HDMI
Monitor Capabilities: Unknown
Display Pixel Format: Unknown
Advanced Color: Not Supported
Driver Name: C:\WINDOWS\System32\DriverStore\FileRepository\iigd_dch.inf_amd64_80ba20874d893d6e\igdumdim64.dll,C:\WINDOWS\System32\DriverStore\FileRepository\iigd_dch.inf_amd64_80ba20874d893d6e\igd10iumd64.dll,C:\WINDOWS\System32\DriverStore\FileRepository\iigd_dch.inf_amd64_80ba20874d893d6e\igd10iumd64.dll,C:\WINDOWS\System32\DriverStore\FileRepository\iigd_dch.inf_amd64_80ba20874d893d6e\igd12umd64.dll
Driver File Version: 30.00.0101.2079 (English)
Driver Version: 30.0.101.2079
DDI Version: 12
Feature Levels: 12_1,12_0,11_1,11_0,10_1,10_0,9_3,9_2,9_1
Driver Model: WDDM 3.0
Hardware Scheduling: DriverSupportState:AlwaysOff Enabled:False
Displayable: Not Supported
Graphics Preemption: Primitive
Compute Preemption: Thread group
Miracast: Not Supported by Graphics driver
Detachable GPU: No
Hybrid Graphics GPU: Integrated
Power P-states: Not Supported
Virtualization: Paravirtualization
Block List: DISABLE_HWSCH
Catalog Attributes: Universal:False Declarative:True
Driver Attributes: Final Retail
Driver Date/Size: 5/25/2022 8:00:00 PM, 1774152 bytes
WHQL Logo'd: Yes
WHQL Date Stamp: Unknown
Device Identifier: {D7B78E66-D920-11CF-937B-98A8AEC2D335}
Vendor ID: 0x8086
Device ID: 0x9A60
SubSys ID: 0x88FD103C
Revision ID: 0x0001
Driver Strong Name: oem6.inf:5f63e5348c89e16b:iTGLD_w10_DS:30.0.101.2079:PCI\VEN_8086&DEV_9A60&SUBSYS_88FD103C
Rank Of Driver: 00CF0001
Video Accel: ModeMPEG2_A ModeMPEG2_C ModeWMV9_C ModeVC1_C
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Deinterlace Caps: {BF752EF6-8CC4-457A-BE1B-08BD1CAEEE9F}: Format(In/Out)=(YUY2,YUY2) Frames(Prev/Fwd/Back)=(0,0,1) Caps=VideoProcess_YUV2RGB VideoProcess_StretchX VideoProcess_StretchY VideoProcess_AlphaBlend DeinterlaceTech_EdgeFiltering
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FYI, this is a story COLLECTION. Lots of standalones technically. So, you can basically start to read at any chapter, no pre-read of the other chapters needed technically (other than maybe getting better descriptions of characters than: Adam Vir=human, Krill=antlike alien, Sunny=tall alien, Conn=telepathic alien). The numbers are (mostly) only for organization of posts and continuity.
OC Written by Charlie Stastarrfallknightrise,
Typed up and then posted here by me.
Proofreading and language check for some chapters by u/Finbar9800
Future Lore and fact check done by me.
So uhhh yeah, remember two chapters ago when I said we don’t get more on Sunny and Krill while Adam is gone?
I forgot this chapter…
Previous First [Next](link)
Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Dr. Krill was back on Earth.
He had no idea why he always seemed to end up in this insane hellscape, but here he was...
Again…
Shit…
Only the other day he had been caught out in an electrical storm while trying to commute his way to work, which he hadn't particularly appreciated, especially not when massive balls of frozen ice came pelting from the sky with enough power to tear open skin.
What the fuck is this planet!?
Even the humans had been running for cover, and that was saying something!
He would very much have preferred a job where he wasn't in constant danger of getting murdered by the elements on a regular basis.
But this was earth, one day he could be enjoying the sun, the next he was risking heat death, the next he was almost blown away by the wind, and the day after that he was almost whisked away by minor flooding.
Of course, it was either walking to work, or taking public transit which was probably even more dangerous, considering that it had humans on board.
Humans who were half asleep, humans who were strung out on drugs, humans with children, humans with dangerous pets.
Then of course there were the more than mildly xenophobic humans, who were, somehow, under the impression that Krill was there to steal earthling jobs, which was not the case at all considering that he had volunteered his time for free.
Krill had no need of monetary compensation, to him, the work was the reward.
He leaned something new every day.
And now, with his current stint working in a human hospital, he was becoming even more acquainted with humanity... not entirely sure if that was in a good way or not.
Of course, Krill more than missed the simple life aboard the harbinger, where most humans were relatively educated and competent, where most stupid injuries came about by overly idiotic actions rather than ignorance – a point could be argued to which one of those things was worse, but, for the moment, Krill was under the impression that willful idiocy was still better than ignorance because at least they knew why they were stupid, and generally openly admitted it to Krill, whereas working with the general populace forced him to have to be patient and understanding towards people who just didn't know any better.
Apparently telling people they are stupid to their faces is seen as off-color in the human medical world even though that is probably exactly what some of the people needed to hear.
Again, he found himself wishing for the harbinger, and for the return of the captain – the biggest idiot of them all.
He idly wondered how he was doing on his little trip across the universe.
He wondered how Sunny was doing, exploring the human world on her own two feet?
He wished he knew when they would be back together.
The UNSC had given them extended shore leave, but they had never specified how long it was going to be, seeming to hint that it was contingent on how the captain felt.
Well…
Krill was under the impression the captain needed to get his ass back here so he would stop having to pull things out of people's butts.
Speaking of pulling things out of people's butts' he was on ER rotation today.
He found that the ER could be the most interesting, or the most infuriating part of a hospital.
Just the other day he had led the surgical team that reattached someone's arm, but then the day before that he had been in the ER to inform a woman that, yes your shortness of breath likely comes from the run you just went on after years of never having exercised.
He took his clipboard and walked into the human waiting room.
He could write a paper on what sort of things it was important for a medical professional to keep in mind when treating humans.
But here was an example of his typical day:
-Isn't this the second time I have seen little Jimmy in here for sticking something up his nose? I understand that he really loves playing with those toys, but you have to understand there is a reason the label says five and up. Yes, it would probably be best if you did not allow him around things he could get stuck in his face.
-Your pregnant. Yes of course, I am sure. I can do a blood test if you like. I know you said you are not sexually active, but I have looked at this blood test twice and a stick test twice and it says you are pregnant. Well, what do you consider sexually active... mmhmmm... Mmmhmmm... well I think it is probably my job to inform you that it is still sex even if the woman is on top.
-You just... fell on it huh? So, you were doing household chores... Naked... And you just so happened to slip and as you were slipping, this item was magically vacuumed up into your colon. Mmmmm hmmm… quick question. Where was this potato located for you to have fallen on it like that? Well, no sir, I am afraid that we probably won't be able to get it out manually, you are going to need a gastrointestinal specialist for that.
-Yes sir, your chest pain probably has something to do with all the cocaine you have been snorting. Cocaine tends to do that to people.
-Ok you are a diabetic trying to control your blood sugar. Ok, I am glad to hear that you have worked on toning down your sugar consumption, that's good, but I am still very concerned about your sugar levels. This is far too high, and I am extremely concerned. Let's go through your diet and see what you have been eating. Have you cut back on soft drinks? Yes, and now you drink a lot of fruit juice... ahh... I see. Well ma'am fruit juice just so happens to contain a lot of sugar, which might be why your blood sugar is so high. Might I suggest drinking some water?
-Ah finally, a real emergency. Yes, your grandmother's breathing problems worry me greatly. Let's get her back in to do an EKG, make sure nothing is going on with her heart. I am glad you brought her in when you did.
-Yes, little Susie is going to be fine. I am glad she knew how to use her epi-pen, excellent work Susie!
-No, I don't care that you have been waiting four hours to see the doctor. Your child has a mild stomachache, their child is having intermittent seizures. No, I will not be calling the medical director in to see you about this.
-Well, that's probably why it hurts so much. The condom is not supposed to cover the balls too.
-No matter how much you deny your use of opiates, when you came in here you weren't breathing and when I gave you Narcan you started breathing again, so I know where my vote is. Please try not to deny these things to your medical professional next time. It is not my job to call the cops. No, I am not going to rat you out. Yes, you could die if you don't tell me about past drug use no matter what it is.
-You got a WHAT in your WHERE!? Why would you stick a toothpick in there? No sir generally most people are not ailed with an itchy urethra, in fact I am pretty sure that is not a thing. Look, I am not judging you sir, but please stop sticking pointy things up into places where they do not belong because you could cause permanent damage.
-Ouch... now remind me again why you were trying to ride your skateboard down the stairs? And you openly admit that you are not good at skating... Because you saw a video? I am very glad you know it was a dumb idea because at least I don't have to say it.
-Ma'am this says analgesic not anal-gesic, the pills are taken orally not as a suppository.
-You have been bleeding once a month for ten years and you are just now coming in about that? I am sorry, but how old are you again? Yes, ma'am this is very normal, here let me get you a pamphlet to read, and if you have any questions feel free to ask one of the nurses.
-So, you don't have any medical history. Well, are you taking any medications? That sure is a lot of medications for someone who does not have any medical history. This one looks like it is for high blood pressure... Sir just because the medication is helping you manage your high blood pressure does not mean that your high blood pressure is cured!
-When I said stay away from beer and only drink clear liquids for the next days, that did not include vodka!
-I know vodka does have alcohol in it, but pouring it on your open sore sure did not help anything, and now you are probably going to need a plastic surgeon to fix this.
-No ma'am you have to put ear drops in both ears. No, the ears are not connected. Yes, your eardrums and you know... your brain are kind of in the way. No there is not a tube that just goes straight through.
-Please stop licking your wound!
-Um no, those bumps on your tongue are not cancer.... They are taste buds.
-Yes, that it a uvula... Yes, it is supposed to be there.
-What made you think sticking ice cubes up your anus would help with your fever? Well, it will not and now you have frost bite in your rectum.
-Sooooo uhhhhh… it was the smell that got you to come in and not the... Maggots?
Krill groaned in relief as he went to clock out.
”Tough day?"
Someone asked,
"I think something needs to be done about medical education on your planet."
The human laughed.
"We have been trying for more than two thousand years. Good lucky making it any better than it already is."
Previous First [Next](link)
Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Intro post by me
OC-whole collection
Patreon of the author
Thanks for reading! As you saw in the title, this is a cross posted story written by starrfallknightrise and I'll just upload some of it here for you guys, if you are interested and want to read ahead, the original story-collection can be found on tumblr or wattpad to read for free. (link above this text under "OC:..." ) It is the Empyrean Iris story collection by starfallknightrise. Also, if you want to know more about the story collection i made an intro post about it, so feel free to check that out to see what other great characters to look forward to! (Link also above this text). I have no affiliations to the author; just thought I’d share some of the great stories you might enjoy a lot!
Obviously, I have Charlie’s permission to post this and for the people already knowing the stories, or starting to read them: If you follow the link and check out the story you will see some differences. I made some small (non-artistic) changes, mainly correcting writing mistakes, pronoun correction and some small additional info here and there of things which were not thought of/forgotten or even were added/changed in later stories (like the “USS->UNSC” prefix of Stabby, Chalar=/->Sunny etc). As well as some "biggemajor" changes in descriptions and info’s for the same stringency/continuity reason. That can be explained by the story collection being, well a story collection at the start with many standalone-stories just starring the same people, but later on it gets more to a stringent storyline with backstories and throwbacks. (For example Adam Vir has some HEAVY scars over his body, following his bones, which were not really talked about up till half the collection, where it says it covers his whole body and you find out via backflash that he had them the whole time and how he got them, they just weren't mentioned before. However, I would think a doctor would at least see these scars before that, especially since he gets analyzed, treated and goes shirtless/in T-shirts in some stories). So TLDR: Writing and some descriptions are slightly changed, with full OK from the author, since he himself did not bother to correct these things before.

(owing to the reddit character limit, I'm posting this in two parts, but it's one contiguous story)
There are instincts that you develop when you’re a parent. If you don’t have any children it might be a little hard to understand. If you have a toddler, for example, and they’re in the other room and silent for more than a few seconds, there’s a good chance they’re up to no good. I take that back, most of the time they’re doing nothing, but you still have to check. You feel a compulsion to check. I don’t think it’s a learned skill, I think it’s an actual instinct.
Paleolithic parents who didn’t check on their toddlers every few minutes, just to double check that they weren’t being stalked by smilodons were unlikely to have grandchildren and pass on their genes. You just feel you need to check, like getting goosebumps, a compulsion. I suppose it’s the same reason little kids are always demanding you look at them and what they’re doing.
I think that instinct starts to atrophy as your kids grow. They start learning to do things for themselves, and before you know it, they’re after their own privacy, not your attention. I don’t think it ever goes away though. I expect, decades from now, my own grown kids will visit and bring my grandkids with them. And the second I hear a baby crying in the earliest morning hours, I’ll be alert and ready for anything, sure as any old soldier who hears his name whispered in the dark of night.
I felt that alarm just the other day. First time in years. My boy came home from riding bikes with a couple of his friends. I’m pretty sure they worked out a scam where they asked each of their parents for a different new console for Christmas, and now they spend their weekends traveling between the three houses so they can play on all of them.
We all live in a nice neighborhood. A newer development than the one I grew up in, same town though. It’s the kind of place where kids are always playing in the streets, and the cars all routinely do under 20. My wife and I make sure the kids have helmets and pads, and we’re fine with the boy going out biking with his friends, as long as they stay in the neighborhood.
You know, a lot of people in my generation take some weird sort of pride in how irresponsible we used to be when we were young. I never wore a helmet. Rode to places, without telling any adults, that we never should have ridden to. Me and my friends would make impromptu jumps off of makeshift ramps and try to do stupid tricks, based loosely on stunts we’d seen on TV. Other people my age seem to wax nostalgic for that stuff and pretend it makes them somehow better people. I don’t get it. Sometimes I look back and shudder. We were lucky we escaped with only occasional bruises and road burns. It could have gone so much worse.
My son and his buddies came bustling in the front door at about 2 PM on a Saturday. They did the usual thing of raiding the kitchen for juice and his mother’s brownies, and I took that as my cue to abandon the television in the living room for my office. I was hardly noticing the chaos, by this point, it was becoming a regular weekend occurrence. But as I was just leaving, I caught something in the chatter. My boy said something about, “... that guy who was following us.”
He hadn’t said it any louder or more clearly than anything else they’d been talking about, all that stuff I’d been filtering out. Yet some deeper core process in my brain stem heard it, interpreted it, then hit the red alert button. My blood ran cold and every hair on my skin stood at attention.
I turned around and asked “Somebody followed you? What are you talking about?” I wasn’t consciously aware of how strict and stern my voice came out, yet when the jovial smiles dropped off of their faces it was apparent that it had been so.
“Huh?” my son said, his voice high-pitched and talking fast, like when he thinks he’s in trouble and needs to explain. “We thought we saw somebody following us. There wasn’t though. We didn’t really see anybody and we’d just spooked ourselves.”
“What did he look like?” I asked.
“Nothing? We really didn’t see anybody! Honest! I just saw something out of the corner of my eye! But there wasn’t really nobody there!”
“Yeah!,” said one of his buds. “Peripheral! Peripheral vision! I thought maybe I saw something too, but when I looked I didn’t see anything. I don’t have my glasses with me, but when I really looked I got a good look and there was nothing.”
The three boys had that semi-smiling but still concerned look that this was only a bizarre misunderstanding, but they were still being very sincere. “Were they in a car?”
“No, Dad, you don’t get it,” my boy continued, “They were small. We thought it was a kid.”
“Yeah,” said the third boy. “We thought maybe it was Tony Taylor’s stupid kid sister shadowing us. Getting close to throwing water balloons. Just cause she did that before.”
“If you didn’t get a good look how did you know it was a kid?”
“Because it was small!” my kid explained, though that wasn’t helping much. “What I mean is, at first I thought it was behind a little bush. It was way too small a bush to hide a grown-up. That’s why we thought it was probably Tony’s sister.”
“But you didn’t actually see Tony’s sister?” I asked.
“Nah,” said one of his buds. “And now that I think about it, that bush was probably too small for his sister too. It would have been silly. Like when a cartoon character hides behind a tiny object.”
“That’s why we think it was just in our heads,” explained the other boy, “That and the pole.”
“Yeah,” my son said. “The park on 14th and Taylor?” That was just a little community park, a single city block. Had a playground, lawn, a few trees, and some benches. “Anyway, we were riding past that, took a right on Taylor. And we were talking about how weird it would be if somebody really were following us. That’s when Brian thought he saw something. Behind a telephone pole.”
“I didn’t get a good look at it either,” the friend, Brian, “explained. Just thought I did. Know how you get up late at night to use the bathroom or whatever and you look down the hallway and you see a jacket or an office chair or something and because your eyes haven’t adjusted you think you see a ghost or burglar or something? Anyway, I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye, but when I turned there wasn’t anything there.”
“Yeah, it was just like sometimes that happens, except this time it happened twice on the same bike ride, is all,” the other friend explained.
“And you’re sure there was nothing there?”
“Sure we’re sure,” my boy said. “We know because that time we checked. We each rode our bikes around the pole and there was nothing. Honest!”
“Hmmm,” I said. The whole thing seemed reasonable and nothing to be concerned about, you’d think.. The boys seemed to relax at my supposed acceptance. “Alright, sounds good. Hey, just let me know before you leave the house again, alright?” They all rushed to seem agreeable as I left the room, then quickly resumed their snacking and preceded to play their games.
I kept my ear out, just in case. My boy, at least this time, dutifully told me his friends were about to leave. He wasn’t very happy with me when I said they wouldn’t be riding home on their bikes, I was going to drive them home. The other boys didn’t complain, but I suppose it wasn’t their place, so my boy did the advocating for them, which I promptly ignored. I hate doing that, ignoring my kid’s talkback. My dad was the same way. It didn’t help that I struggled to get both of their bikes in the trunk, and it was a pain to get them back out again. My boy sulked in the front seat on the short ride back home. Arms folded on chest, eyes staring straight ahead, that lip thing they do. He seemed embarrassed for having what he thought was an over-protective parent. I suppose he was angry at me as well for acting, as far as he knew, irrationally. Maybe he thought he was being punished for some infraction he didn’t understand.
Well, it only got worse when we got home. I told him he wasn’t allowed to go out alone on his bike anymore. I’d only had to do that once before, when he was grounded, and back then he’d known exactly what he’d done wrong and he had it coming. Now? Well, he was confused, furious, maybe betrayed, probably a little brokenhearted? I can’t blame him. He tramped upstairs to his room to await the return of his mother, who was certain to give a sympathetic ear. I can’t imagine how upset he’ll be if he checks the garage tomorrow and finds I’ve removed his tires, just in case.
I wish I could explain it to him. I don’t even know how.
Where should I even begin? The town?
When I was about my son’s age I had just seen that movie, The Goonies. It had just come out in theaters. I really liked that movie, felt a strong connection. A lot of people do, can’t blame them, sort of a timeless classic. Except I wasn’t really into pirate’s treasure or the Fratellis, what really made me connect was a simple single shot, still in the first act. It’s right after they cross the threshold, and leave the house on their adventure. It was a shot of the boys, from above, maybe a crane shot or a helicopter shot, as they’re riding their bikes down a narrow forested lane, great big evergreen trees densely growing on the side of the road, they’re all wearing raincoats and the road is still wet from recent rain.
That was my childhood. I’ve spent my whole life in the Pacific Northwest. People talk to outsiders about the rain, and they might picture a lot of rainfall, but it’s not the volume, it’s the duration. We don’t get so much rain, it just drizzles slowly, on and on, for maybe eight or nine months out of the year. It doesn’t matter where I am, inside a house, traveling far abroad, anywhere I am I can close my eyes and still smell the air on a chilly afternoon, playing outdoors with my friends.
It’s not petrichor, that sudden intense smell you get when it first starts to rain after a long dry spell. No, this was almost the opposite, a clean smell, almost the opposite of a scent, since the rain seemed to scrub the air clean. The strongest scent and I mean that in the loosest sense possible, must have been the evergreen needles. Not pine needles, those were too strong, and there weren’t that many pines anyway. Douglas fir and red cedar predominated, again the root ‘domination’ seems hyperbole. Yet those scents were there, ephemeral as it is. Also, there was a sort of pleasant dirtiness to the smell, at least when you rode bikes. It wasn’t dirt, or mud, or dust. Dust couldn’t have existed except perhaps for a few fleeting weeks in August. I think, looking back, it was the mud puddles. All the potholes in all the asphalt suburban roads would fill up after rain with water the color of chocolate milk. We’d swerve our BMX bikes, or the knock-off brands, all the way across the street just to splash through those puddles and test our “suspensions.,” meaning our ankles and knees. The smell was always stronger after that. It had an earthiness to it. Perhaps it was petrichor’s lesser-known watery cousin.
There were other sensations too, permanently seared into my brain like grill marks. A constant chilliness that was easy to ignore, until you started working up a good heart rate on your bike, then you noticed your lungs were so cold it felt like burning. The sound of your tires on the wet pavement, particularly when careening downhill at high speed. For some reason, people in the mid-80s used to like to decorate their front porches with cheap, polyester windsocks. They were often vividly colored, usually rainbow, like prototype pride flags. When an occasional wind stirred up enough to gust, the windsocks would flap, and owning to the water-soaked polyester, make a wet slapping sound. It was loud, it was distinct, but you learned to ignore it as part of the background, along with the cawing of crows and distant passing cars.
That was my perception of Farmingham as a kid. The town itself? Just a typical Pacific Northwest town. That might not mean much for younger people or modern visitors, but there was a time when such towns were all the same. They were logging towns. It was the greatest resource of the area from the late 19th century, right up until about the 80s, when the whole thing collapsed. Portland, Seattle, they had a few things going on beyond just the timber industry, but all the hundreds of little towns and small cities revolved around logging, and my town was no exception.
I remember going to the museum. It had free admission, and it was a popular field trip destination for the local school system. It used to be the City Hall, a weird Queen Anne-style construction. Imagine a big Victorian house, but blown up to absurd proportions, and with all sorts of superfluous decorations. Made out of local timber, of course. They had a hall for art, I can’t even remember why, now. Maybe they were local artists. I only remember paintings of sailboats and topless women, which was a rare sight for a kid at the time. There was a hall filled with 19th-century household artifacts. Chamber pots and weird children's toys.
Then there was the logging section, which was the bulk of the museum. It’s strange how different things seemed to be in the early days of the logging industry, despite being only about a hundred years old, from my perspective in the 1980s. If you look back a hundred years from today, in the 1920s, you had automobiles, airplanes, electrical appliances, jazz music, radio programs, flappers, it doesn’t feel that far removed, does it? No TV, no internet, but it wouldn’t be that strange. 1880s? Different world.
Imagine red cedars, so big you could have a full logging crew, arms stretched out, just barely manage to encircle one for a photographer. Felling a single tree was the work of days. Men could rest and eat their lunches in the shelter of a cut made into a trunk, and not worry for safety or room. They had to cut their own little platforms into the trees many feet off the ground, just so the trunk was a little bit thinner, and thus hours of labor saved. They used those long, flexible two-man saws. And double-bit axes. They worked in the gloom of the shade with old gas lanterns. Once cut down from massive logs thirty feet in diameter, they’d float the logs downhill in sluices, like primitive wooden make-shift water slides. Or they’d haul them down to the nearest river, the logs pulled by donkeys on corduroy roads. They’d lay large amounts of grease on the roads, so the logs would slide easily. You could still smell the grease on the old tools on display in the museum. The bigger towns had streets where the loggers would slide the logs down greased skids all the way down to the sea, where they’d float in big logjams until the mills were ready for processing. They’d call such roads “skid-rows.” Because of all the activity, they’d end up being the worst parts of town. Local citizens wouldn’t want to live there, due to all the stink and noise. They’d be on the other side of the brothels and the opium dens. It would be the sort of place where the destitute and the insane would find themselves when they’d finally lost anything. To this day, “skidrow” remains a euphemism for the part of a city where the homeless encamp.
That was the lore I’d learned as a child. That was my “ancestry” I was supposed to respect and admire, which I did, wholeheartedly. There were things they left out, though. Things that you might have suspected, from a naive perspective, would be perfect for kids, all the folklore that came with the logging industry. The ghost stories, and the tall tales. I would have eaten that up. They do talk about that kind of thing in places far removed from the Pacific Northwest. But I had never heard about any of it. Things like the Hidebehind. No, that I’d have to discover for myself.
There were four of us on those bike adventures. Myself. Ralph, my best friend. A tough guy, the bad boy, the most worldly of us, which is a strange thing to say about an eight-year-old kid. India, an archetypal ‘80s tomboy. She was the coolest person I knew at the time. Looking back, I wonder what her home life was like. I think I remember problematic warning signs that I couldn’t have recognized when I was so young, but now raise flags. Then there was Ben. A goofy kid, a wild mop of hair, coke bottle glasses, type 1 diabetic which seemed to make him both a bit pampered by his mother, who was in charge of all his insulin, diet, and schedule, and conversely a real risk taker when she wasn’t around.
When we first saw it…
No, wait. This was the problem with starting the story. Where does it all begin? I’ll need to talk about my Grandfather as well. I’ve had two different perspectives on my Grandfather, on the man that he was. The first was the healthy able-bodied grandparent I’d known as a young child. Then there was the man, as I learned about him after he had passed.
There was a middle period, from when I was 6 to when I was 16, when I hardly understood him at all, as he was hit with a double whammy of both Parkinson’s and Alzheimer's. His decline into an invalid was both steep and long drawn out. That part didn’t reflect who he was as a person.
What did I know of him when I was little? Well I knew he and my grandmother had a nice big house and some farmland, out in the broad flat valley north of Farmingham. Dairy country. It had been settled by Dutch immigrants back in the homesteading days. His family had been among the first pioneers in the county too. It didn’t register to me then that his surname was Norwegian, not Dutch. I knew he had served in the Navy in World War II, which I was immensely proud of for reasons I didn’t know why. I knew he had a job as a butcher in a nearby rural supermarket. He was a bit of a farmer too, more as a hobby and a side gig. He had a few cattle, but mostly grew and harvested hay to sell to the local dairies. I knew he had turned his garage into a machine shop, and could fix damn near anything. From the flat tires on my bicycle to the old flat-bed truck he’d haul hay with, to an old 1950s riding lawnmower he somehow managed to keep in working order. I knew he could draw a really cool cartoon cowboy, I knew he loved to watch football, and I knew the whiskers on his chin were very pokey, and they’d tickle you when he kissed you on the cheek, and that when you tried to rub the sensation away he’d laugh and laugh and laugh.
Then there were the parts of his life that I’d learn much later. Mostly from odd passing comments from relatives, or things I’d find in the public records. Like how he’d been a better grandfather than a father. Or how his life as I knew it had been a second, better life. He’d been born among the Norwegian settler community, way up in the deep, dark, forest-shrouded hills that rimmed the valley. He’d been a logger in his youth. Technologically he was only a generation or two from the ones I’d learned about in the museum. They’d replaced donkeys with diesel engines and corduroy roads with narrow gauge rail. It was still the same job, though. Dirty, dangerous, dark. Way back into those woods, living in little logging camps, civilization was always a several-day hike out. It became a vulgar sort of profession, filled with violent men, reprobates, and thieves. When my grandfather’s father was murdered on his front porch by a lunatic claiming he’d been wronged somehow, my grandfather hiked out of there, got into town, and joined the Navy. He vowed never to go back. The things he’d seen out in those woods were no good. He’d kept that existence away from me. Anyways…
Tommy Barker was the first of us to go missing. I say ‘us’ as if I knew him personally. I didn’t. He went to Farmingham Middle School, other side of town, and several grades above us. From our perspective, he may as well have been an adult living overseas.
Yet it felt like we got to know him. His face was everywhere, on TV, all over telephone poles. Everybody was talking about him. After he didn’t return from a friend’s house, everybody just sort of assumed, or maybe hoped, that he’d just gotten lost, or was trapped somewhere. They searched all the parks. Backyards, junkyards, refrigerators, trunks. Old-fashioned refrigerators, back before suction seals, had a simple handle with a latch that opened when you pulled on it. It wasn’t a problem when the fridges were in use and filled with food. But by the 80s old broke-down refrigerators started filling up backyards and junkyards, and they became deathtraps for kids playing hide-and-seek. The only opened from the outside. I remember thinking Tommy Barker was a little old to have likely been playing hide-and-seek, but people checked everywhere anyway. They never found him.
That was about the first time we saw the Hidebehind. Ben said he thought he saw somebody following us, looked like, maybe, a kid. We’d just slowly huffed our way up a moderately steep hill, Farmingham is full of them, and when we paused for a breather at the top, Ben said he saw it down the hill, closer to the base. Yet when we turned to look there was nothing there. Ben said he’d just seen it duck behind a car. That wasn’t the sort of behavior of a random kid minding his own business. Yet the slope afforded us a view under the car’s carriage, and except for the four tires, there were no signs of any feet hiding behind the body. At first, we thought he was pulling our leg. When he insisted he wasn’t, we started to tease him a little. He must have been seeing things, on account of his poor vision and thick glasses. The fact that those glasses afforded him vision as good as or better than any of us wasn’t something we considered.
The next person to disappear was Amy Brooks. Fifth-grader. Next elementary school over. I remember it feeling like when you’re traveling down the freeway, and there’s a big thunderstorm way down the road, but it keeps getting closer, and closer. I don’t remember what she looked like. Her face wasn’t plastered everywhere like Tommy’s had been. She was mentioned on the regional news, out of Seattle, her and Tommy together. Two missing kids from the same town in a short amount of time. The implication was as obvious as it was depraved. They didn’t think the kids were getting lost anymore. They didn’t do very much searching of backyards. The narratives changed too. Teachers started talking a lot about stranger danger. Local TV channels started recycling old After School Specials and public service announcements about the subject.
I’m not sure who saw it next. I think it was Ben again. We took him seriously this time though. I think. The one I’m sure I remember was soon after, and that time it was India who first saw it. It’s still crystal clear in my memory, almost forty years later, because that was the time I first saw it too. We were riding through a four-way stop, an Idaho Stop before they called it that, when India slammed to a stop, locking up her coaster brakes and leaving a long black streak of rubber on a dry patch of pavement. We stopped quickly after and asked what the problem was. We could tell by her face she’d seen it. She was still looking at it.
“I see it,” she whispered, unnecessarily. We all followed her gaze. We were looking, I don’t know, ten seconds? Twenty? We believed everything she said, we just couldn’t see it.
“Where?” Ralph asked.
“Four blocks down,” she whispered. “On the left. See the red car? Kinda rusty?” There was indeed a big old Lincoln Continental, looking pretty ratty and worn. I focused on that, still seeing nothing. “Past that, just to its right. See the street light pole? It’s just behind that.”
We also saw the pole she was talking about. Metal. Aluminum, I’d have guessed. It had different color patches, like metallic flakeboard. Like it’d had been melted together out of scrap.
I could see that clearly even from that distance. I saw nothing behind it. I could see plenty of other things in the background, cars, houses, bushes, front lawns, beauty bark landscape.. There was no indication of anything behind that pole.
And then it moved. It had been right there where she said it had been, yet it had somehow perfectly blended into the landscape, a trick of perspective. We didn’t see it at all until it moved, and almost as fast it had disappeared behind that light pole. We only got a hint. Brown in color, about our height in size.
We screamed. Short little startled screams, the involuntary sort that just burst out of you. Then we turned and started to pedal like mad, thoroughly spooked. We made it to the intersection of the next block when it was Ralph who screeched to a halt and shouted, “Wait!”
We slowed down and stopped, perhaps not as eagerly as we’d done when India yelled. Ralph was looking back over his shoulder, looking at that metal pole. “Did anybody see it move again?’ he asked. We all shook our heads in the negative. Ralph didn’t notice, but of course, he didn’t really need an answer, of course we hadn’t been watching.
“If it didn’t move, then it’s still there!” Ralph explained the obvious. It took a second to sink in, despite the obvious. “C’mon!” he shouted, and to our surprise, before we could react, he turned and took off, straight down the road, straight to where that thing had been lurking.
We were incredulous, but something about his order made us all follow hot on his heels. He was a sort of natural leader. I thought it was total foolishness, but I wasn’t going to let him go alone. I think I got out, “Are you crazy?!”
The wind was blowing hard past our faces as we raced as fast as we could, it made it hard to hear. Ralph shouted his response. “If it’s hiding that means its afraid!” That seemed reasonable, if not totally accurate. Lions hide from their prey before they attack. Then again, they don’t wait around when the whole herd charges. Really, the pole was coming up so fast there wasn’t a whole lot of time to argue. “Just blast past and look!” Ralph added. “We’re too fast! It won’t catch us.”
Sure, I thought to myself. Except maybe Ben, who always lagged behind the rest of us in a race. The lion would get Ben if any of us.
We rushed past that pole and all turned our heads to look. “See!” Ralph shouted in triumph. There was simply nothing there. A metal streetlight pole and nothing more. We stopped pedaling yet still sped on. “Hang on,” Ralph said, and at the next intersection he took a fast looping curve that threatened to crash us all, but we managed and curved behind him. We all came to the pole again where we stopped to see up close that there was nothing there, despite what we had seen moments before.
“Maybe it bilocated,” Ben offered. We groaned. We were all thinking it, but I think we were dismissive because it wasn’t as cool a word as ‘teleport.”
“Maybe it just moved when we weren’t looking,” I offered. That hadn’t been long, but that didn’t mean anything if it moved fast. The four of us slowly looked up from the base of the pole to our immediate surroundings. There were bushes. A car in a carport covered by a tarpaulin. The carport itself. Garbage cans. Stumps. Of course the ever-present trees. Whatever it was it could have been hiding behind anything. Maybe it was. We looked. Maybe it would make itself seen. None of us wanted that. “OK, let’s get going,” Ralph said, and we did so.
I got home feeling pretty shaken that afternoon. I felt safe at home. Except for the front room, which had a big bay window looking out onto the street, and the people who lived across it. There were plenty of garbage cans and telephone poles and stumps that a small, fast thing might hide behind. No, I felt more comfortable in my bedroom. There was a window, but a great thick conical cypress tree grew right in front of it, reaching way up over the roof of the house. If anything, it offered ME a place to hide, and peer out onto the street to either side of the tree. It was protective, as good as any heavy blanket.