Fidget Trading

... (x2) Fidget Spinner (x2) Candlestick (x1) or view them here My trading terms...

... (x2) Fidget Spinner (x2) Candlestick (x1) or view them here My trading terms...

... (x2) Fidget Spinner (x2) Candlestick (x1) or view them here My trading terms...

... (x2) Fidget Spinner (x2) Candlestick (x1) or view them here My trading terms...

... there." Yunyun nods, beginning to fidget in place once more, and ... reward that they got for trading in the corpses of the ...

... there." Yunyun nods, beginning to fidget in place once more, and ... reward that they got for trading in the corpses of the ...

... actually talking now, not just trading barbs. The plan came together... hand and tried not to fidget under the weight of the...

... (x2) Fidget Spinner (x2) Candlestick (x1) or view them here My trading terms...

... (x2) Fidget Spinner (x2) Candlestick (x1) or view them here My trading terms...

... silently. Kira struggled to not fidget, and Utkin's scribbling got more... the room. The two began trading quips questioning the Commonwealth leaderships'...

... she had little interest in trading words with. "When that girl... caught herself and started to fidget, and spoke like the words ...

... (x2) Fidget Spinner (x2) Candlestick (x1) or view them here My trading terms...

... with a wet scraping sound. Trading glances with Eridan, the two... chat? Hmmmmmmmm?" Feferi swallowed nervously, trading glances with Eridan (who still... tried not to blush and fidget too much at how Mindfang...

... (x2) Fidget Spinner (x2) Candlestick (x1) or view them here My trading terms...

... turn try. She watched him fidget with the page, frustrated, unable... and there seemed to be trading places. Reality did not like ...

... bag, Chinese multi-tool new, geared fidget spinner, keychain lanyard with bead... believe are for Civivi, DLT Trading cloth, and more! $215 TYD...

View Poll submitted by /u/draemgrill to r/vcu [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/kbugs9 to r/fidgettoys [link] [comments]

My boyfriend swears he “ won “🤣🤣 there is no wayyyy. im closest to the camera, hes furthest submitted by /u/kbugs9 to r/NeeDoh [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/IkarosKurono to r/AnimalJam [link] [comments]

My daughter watches Mrs Bench on youtube, she has a store and does these trading videos. Her store is in Sarasota, and we dont want to drive there. are there any fidget/squishy trading groups around Orlando? if not would anyone be interested in a meetup for this kind of thing? submitted by /u/Murdock03 to r/orlando [link] [comments]

Butter Remix by @Stellar0416 featuring an image of Crystal Methyd submitted by /u/titttle23 to r/Memeloid [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/DeidreMengedoht to r/KidsAreFuckingStupid [link] [comments]

Does anyone know of any reliable fidget places or people that will co exist in a tradeable fidgets marketplace? Basically, you say what you are looking for, what you will trade, and you switch. It can be forever, or for a period of time, rental like. Does it exist? If not, can we please start one? submitted by /u/Embarrassed_Suit_521 to r/fidgettoys [link] [comments]

Basically since I don't fidget with my mouth, like chewing or other options, I don't know if her using a pacifier is offensive or not I don't want to hurt others with autism submitted by /u/SmallLawfulness39 to r/autism [link] [comments]

Feel free to edit the image however you like submitted by /u/ItsLowkeyClairoShade to r/funComunitty [link] [comments]

Hi there, does anyone know a group or a marketplace for buying used good quality fidget toys? As I don’t have Facebook, I created a profile just to join some of the recommended groups of this subreddit. Sadly I got declined when I requested to join them. The mods of the german group even blocked my account. Guess they thinked I‘m a scammer or smth like that. I don’t get why someone has to have a complete profile there to join, I mean it’s 2026, facebook times are over. On „Kleinanzeigen“ (a german app for buying and selling used stuff) are nearly no fidgets too.. I‘m looking for fidgets like Lautie and GoBiggeR and stuff like that. Thank you for your suggestions 🤙🏻☺️ submitted by /u/AdRoutine144 to r/fidgettoys [link] [comments]

Because buying new fidget can be a huge financial burden. submitted by /u/diorinvest to r/fidgettoys [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/Ninjajimmy83 to r/fidgettoys [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/XYMYX to r/KidsAreFuckingStupid [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/Zachariah255 to r/PathOfExile2 [link] [comments]

First | Prev | Next Patreon | Cilany's Adventures [Cliffhanger Ending] | Series wiki | Official subreddit | Discord --- Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Civilian Date [standardized human time]: February 13, 2137 The Duerten homeworld was a stormy place during monsoon season; its name was Kalqua, but I didn’t care much for dissecting the linguistic intricacies of any titles. Skalga, world of death—that was a name from a species of warriors. Even that nomenclature meant little compared to the sole place that mattered, the one that I razed in my dreams: Aafa. So despite the rift between the Duerten Homogeneity and the United Nations, my concern was using the gray avians to complete my mission. That was why I decided to come here; I had plenty of time to concoct a plan, as I drifted from stop-to-stop on the train back on Skalga. The pittance I’d received from the Venlil-Human exchange program gave me the money I needed to reach out to unscrupulous parties. That entailed looking no further than the Nevok industry; as the losing parties of a trade war with the Fissans, they would do anything to make a quick buck. I forked over half the fee up-front in exchange for travel to Kalqua. The Nevoks weren’t suicidal, so their “unofficial” smuggling enterprise wouldn’t take me to Aafa, but they still had open trade with the Duerten. It was up to me to negotiate a deal to make the trek to the Federation’s home. I opened my knapsack, spotting the gun tucked next to the book. The rural exterminators office in Celgel Falls didn’t seem to recognize me, and was delighted when I’d floated the idea of taking out dogs. Those Venlil made it clear they wouldn’t mind if a human “predator” got on the wrong end of a bullet. It was all I could do not to mow each of them down then and there. My impatience to get to business was growing now too, with the itch in my claws craving the pull of the trigger. The damn Nevok has been in a holding pattern aboveworld for hours. Something about it being too stormy to land safely in the Duerten capital, Liluat. “Why can’t we descend now?” I barked. “I was also a pilot. I know we can fly through choppy conditions.” The Nevok flicked his ears. “It’s against local regulations. Too many crashes on Duerten soil, especially with smaller spacecraft. They’ll fine me at the docking bay if I go now, so no can do.” “I’ll cover the fine, with a little extra for you. How much to go right now?” “A thousand credits.” I gagged at the figure, but fished out my holopad regardless. Missed messages showed on the old chat app I’d used during the exchange program, but I navigated to my bank account instead. I had wanted to leave something to Jensi and Marcel to improve their welfare, but what was important was terminating Nikonus’s life as soon as possible. The Nevok looked satisfied when I transferred the requested amount, and punched in the commands on the piloting interface. My ears pinned back against my head, with the actualization of my plans unfolding. As a recognizable figure across the galaxy, I wasn’t expecting the Duerten to give a human-friendly Venlil a hero’s welcome. They thought our sweet predators were as good as dirt, but at least they weren’t actively engaged in war with them. Anyone who threatened Earth’s safety or the average Terran’s welfare needed to be put down. In the past, people like me would’ve never allowed someone to terrorize our herd. To think what they’d done to Skalga was worse than the bioweapon the Kolshians gassed Marcel with…I wonder what their species would look like with specially-crafted afflictions. “Hey, what is wrong with you, Slanek? We’re here, and they’ve locked the docking clamps until I pay the fines. You were in such a hurry, and now you’ve got a thousand-parsec-stare at the runway. Go! Get off of my ship!” the Nevok barked. I jolted back to alertness, slinging my knapsack over my shoulders. “Thanks for the ride.” Hustling out onto the runway, rain assaulted me from above and trickled into my ears. I spotted Duerten soldiers marching toward the shuttle with irate wing flaps. I raised my paws to show my intent to surrender to the security, and halted my forward momentum to ensure I wasn’t perceived as a threat to the herd’s safety. The avians looked alarmed to discern that a Venlil had slipped through their borders via a Nevok charter; several guards immediately drew their weapons. Forcing myself to remain calm, I knelt onto the pavement without waiting for instruction. Two guards pushed me onto my stomach, planting their webbed feet against my neck. The Duerten chained my arms behind my back, and hauled me to my paws. They called in my arrest, naming me as “the famous human pet, Slanek”; I gritted my teeth at that moniker. Smoothing out my fur through a concerted effort, I issued a request to speak with someone high-ranking in the government. The avians’ suspicion intensified after I verbalized that desire, though they passed it along the correct channels. You’re completely at their mercy, so might as well play nice. They have no requisite not to hear your plea…though I don’t know what happens if they say “no.” It took several minutes sitting in the back of a stationary police car, but clearance came through for me to be taken to Ambassador Coji’s office. The Duerten representative to Earth was fresh back from the Summit, having slammed the door on humanity’s diplomatic offers once and for all. I released a sigh of relief, as the car began moving, and I offered as little as possible to guards prompting me for my reasons. What I had to say was for official ears only. Nobody could know my plans to annihilate Nikonus. Impatience caused me to fidget, and the bland colors of the structures didn’t give me much to look at. It felt like hours later when we finally arrived, passing under a billboard that said, Sapient predator? An oxymoron. I wished they hadn’t put the window’s visual translator on to convert text to Venlil tongue. A Duerten guard hauled me out of the car, granting me an unhindered look at the embassy. The construction was built to withstand strong winds, with metal plates over the windows, and entrance hatches on each floor for any natives that chose to fly inside. I was forced to take the long way around, trundling through the lobby to a rusted elevator that clearly hadn’t seen much use. “Is this even safe to ride in? It doesn’t look like it’s been well-kept,” I grumbled. The security officer huffed, smashing the third button with his wing. “Oh, so you talk now, just to question us? You are an intruder here, and you will do what we say. I doubt it will be worth our time to hear you out at all; I can’t fathom why you came to Kalqua, with…who you are.” I swished my tail with annoyance, but said nothing as the elevator ratcheted up to the third floor. There were periodic creaks and scraping noises as it ascended, along with a painfully slow pause that made me think we were stuck for a second. The door slid open, revealing an array of private offices; most were shut, though I could see lights on under the frames. I was brought to the far end of the hall, and deposited into Coji’s sprawling office, still chained. The Duerten ambassador had pictures of Noah’s face on the wall with his binocular eyes carved out. If I wasn’t desperate to get to Aafa, I would’ve never beseeched her aid. “I thought my guard had misidentified you, but no, it’s really Slanek…friend of that captured human. Is this some deranged plea by Tarva to get me to return, and apologize for her audacious stunt at the Summit? If I didn’t know better, I’d think that predator Noah was her lover,” Coji sneered. I issued a nervous laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Ambassador Noah just interacts with her a lot, and he’s the one who convinced her to trust humans. I know people say Tarva is too attached to humans, but don’t be offensive.” “I’ll be whatever I want. You’re in my office, on Kalqua, and we don’t worry about hurting predators’ feelings here.” “Well, I’m not here on behalf of my government or humanity. I’m here because of what the Kolshians did to Skalga; it’s personal. They ruined my life, they turned me into this! I know you’re angry about what they did to you, so we can help each other. I’m gonna kill Nikonus if it’s the last thing I do.” The Duerten stared at me in disbelief, before she burst out laughing. “I know the ‘weakest species in the galaxy’ is made up, but you must be out of your mind! You’re still crippled and…I can’t imagine how that would ever work! Besides, it’s something a predator disease patient would say. Again, I reiterate, the fact that you came here is beyond deranged. Why us?” “Because you’re the only one with motives to make them pay who could actually get to Aafa. I thought about every detail, I need this to work, so just trust me. You could schedule a meeting under the ruse of the Kolshians knowing the Duerten walked out of humanity’s summit. Tell them you want to meet for reconciliation. Nikonus would love to weaken Earth and siphon off their allies, so he’ll bite.” “That’s…actually halfway decent, Slanek. I don’t see why we need you.” I perked my ears up. “You’ll never get inside the hall with a weapon; security will catch you and you’ll be blown. If you think you can attack Nikonus unarmed, you’ll just get gunned down by his guards who follow him everywhere, and are armed. It keeps you from making yourself a target. Better yet, even if I fail, you have the cover of me being a stowaway from the Summit or something. Some predatorshit.” Coji craned her neck in thought, and her eyes lit up with something resembling schadenfreude. I knew that I had the Duerten then and there; I’d read them right, gauging that they wanted to obliterate the Kolshians after the Archives’ info. My guess was based on the fact that they were willing to communicate with humanity, who it was no secret they hated, after the Homogeneity learned about being turned into mindless drones. The ambassador tossed her beak. “How do you think you can get to Aafa, let alone with a weapon?” “I read a human myth about a so-called Trojan Horse,” I replied. “Was this plot a human idea?!” “No! They stripped me off my military rank because of what I did at Mileau. I just drew inspiration from the…predator trickery. They’re best at it, you know.” “Oh, I know. I’m not surprised a Venlil saw that truth eventually. What is this Trojan Horse?” “My version of it? Make a gift statue for the Kolshians, line it with materials that will disrupt sensor readings, and stick me in the base. My guess is that they’ll put it in the garden outside; you bring Nikonus to see it, wherever it is, and I’ll pop out. We can’t put a slit for me to shoot from the inside without risking me being sighted. I just need an escape lever, and a motion sensor for when you direct him in front of my exit.” “I see. You want a weapon from us, I imagine?” “I already had a gun in my bag, which I’m sure your guards found, so it can be stashed in the statue with me. Don’t worry, I’ve gunned down Kolshians before—you don’t want to know—so you don’t need to worry about me getting cold feet. I can handle myself.” “What’s your escape plan?” I don’t have one. I tugged at the chains around my paws with discomfort. “My plan is to run off, and meet you back at the ship. You can make a lot of noise and cause a distraction, if you want to help. The less details you know about that specific part, the better; I don’t want to tip off the Kolshians chasing me.” “That makes sense.” Coji seemed to buy my lie, and she shuffled the papers on her desk. “I’ll bring it up to the people who can actually make this decision. If they say yes, which I suspect they will, we’ll start work on this statue. What should the likeness be?” “Playing to narcissism always works. Nikonus boasts about all the things he did to other prey species, so it’s clear his ego wants people to know. It could be a statue of him.” “Killed by an idol to himself…it’s poetic. They hated Duerten for having opinions, and speaking our minds. They don’t want us to speak—fine, we’ll do things the other way. For what it’s worth, I appreciate you bringing us this…opportunity, and I hope you succeed. I imagine the collective feels the same.” Coji summoned the guard that had brought me in, and ordered him to bring me to a visitors room on the first floor. As I looked over my shoulder, her gray silhouette swooped out of the hatch in her office, and the bird took flight. My mind harkened back to when the wingless humans had jumped out of a spacecraft, with me sedated in tow, and dropped to the cradle’s surface. Loss clawed at my heart, as I pictured Marcel giving Nulia pain meds for her shattered leg. The Gojid child he wound up considering his own, who played with “Uncle Slanek” and “Mawsle” often. What I wouldn’t give to be innocent like that again. Before Earth was hit, we were so happy, and unaware of the Federation’s unholy meddling. I had no clue what I really was. Tears welled in my eyes; the finality of this assassination attempt was certain. When Coji fulfilled my request to travel to Aafa (and after observing her reaction, I was certain her people would heed the call), there was no turning back from deep within the Federation’s heart. It was too late to select any route other than vengeance for me, and I struggled with what I knew came next. After deposing my creator, this was part of the tale where my own life of misery should come to a close. With how I’d changed, that might be for the greater good, but I was chilled by the prospect of non-existence. My tale didn’t have to be an exact replica of ancient Earth literature…it wouldn’t be. However, my non-existent escape plan meant the end was near for me. I wished I’d said a proper goodbye to Marcel; the red-haired human would be upset by what I was about to do. He was under the impression that I was getting help, and we’d never had the opportunity to patch up our friendship—though that hadn’t seemed possible, ever. The Venlil he’d befriended was already dead. Whether predator disease was a lie or not, I felt like it was a fair diagnosis for me now. Any explanation I could’ve afforded Marcel would’ve only made him more disappointed in my warped mind. This would be the last time I disappointed my human. However, given my odd unwillingness to die, I would hope to find another way to disappear than expiry. My schemes had been crafty enough up to this point, so perhaps I could think on my feet in the moment. One thing was for sure: I was no longer going to freeze or let fear triumph during calamity. If this was my last adventure, I planned to go out in what humans called a blaze of glory. --- First | Prev | Next Patreon | Cilany's Adventures [Cliffhanger Ending] | Series wiki | Official subreddit | Discord submitted by /u/SpacePaladin15 to r/HFY [link] [comments]

I am NOT OP. Original post by u/stefan_stuetze in r/Finanzen Mood Spoiler -Extreme financial incompetence Note: translated from the original language (German) by DeepL, I made a few corrections here and there to improve readability. Mistakes or strange expressions may still be present. I give up: my sister's absurd "investments" Source: https://unterschichtblog.blogspot.com/2022/11/ich-gebe-auf-die-absurden-investments.html, deleted from reddit. 25/11/2022 Hey hey, when you grow up in the educationally deprived class, you experience multiple financial missteps that would neatly trigger the average BWL-Justus (TN: roughly equivalent to finance bro), but my sister has now taken the cake and I am no longer willing to help her family financially in any way. Her family: Sister, 35, hotel employee until the end of 2020, briefly part-time in between, Hartz 4 (TN: long-term unemployment) from March Nephew, Kyle-Jeremy, name slightly changed, 6, child Brother-in-law, 25, cook. Her "online business" Let's start chronologically. Around Christmas, I think 2018, I'm going home for Christmas by train. I'm living on student loans at the time, saving for the ticket since October. Sister hints all day that she now has money. Father senses money and asks about it. Sister tells me that she now deals in iPads. I think to myself, she will probably buy them semi-legally somewhere and make a little profit with it, I don't care. At some point she says: "We'll soon buy a BMW and you have to wait for the 1st to change the bicycle tube, hahahaha". Her husband just looks sad. The newly trained chef certainly can't afford a BMW. Her actual business was even more stupid than I could have ever imagined. My dumb sister managed to sign up for eight (8!!!!) cell phone contracts. Using fantasy names, on Kyle-Jeremy, on her husband, on "Sitser" instead of sister, you get the gist. She then probably peddled the resulting iPads on Facebook. Then used the good reviews to sell more, imaginary iPads. Several charges of fraud and forgery were filed. Debts today: 25,000 €. Her "stock trade" The year is 2020. The 2002 BMW is in front of my parents' house when I arrive. Sister and brother-in-law, taking up four chairs in pairs, sit across from my parents. Four people are smoking, Kyle-Jeremy is sitting on the floor playing. It's about money. I don't even listen to the pitch, tell mom and dad they absolutely cannot invest in whatever is proposed to them. The silliest episode of Dragons' Den follows, and I'm Jenny Campbell. "We're buying Tesla stock now" "How much is it?" "Couple of thousand" "Did you?" "Nah, but we know where to get it. Return boxes. 40 €, sometimes there are laptops and iPhones in there." "Really?" Mother looks up, "Yeah, I saw that on Facebook once, a woman had a PS5 in it." "Yeah, we only need €40. Or enough for two. So... that would be 80. Or 3, so... well only 3 x 40." "Yeah, and if only one of them is full of iPhones we can buy stock." The four of them pool their money and have just enough for a return box. The 40 € are completely lost, nothing can be sold. Rebuy I will warn you, now it gets depressing. So far I have always had some sympathy for my sister. She had no luck with the parental home, had a hard time in school, had stupid friends. The debt load is enormous and the family income is so low that they will never pay back even one percent of it. I've bought little things for Kyle-Jeremy every now and then, filled their fridge once in a while, and always tried to counsel. But now enough is enough. Christmas. The same thing as always. Sister and brother-in-law buy the child something that they can't afford and that is actually for themselves. The presents are given together with our parents and me. The child gets an Amazon Echo. What the hell is the kid supposed to do with it? They "play" with it for five minutes, the kid tells Alexa something, Alexa responds, you laugh briefly, fun over, now the parents can be even lazier. I give the child a few child-friendly books that I read at his age. Mostly used, are books I buy for myself also mostly. While Kyle-Jeremy is flipping through the beautiful, illustrated, older edition of "Kleiner König Kalle Wirsch," my favorite book from preschool, a dried leaf falls out of it. I get nostalgic because I think of the time when I myself dried beautiful maple leaves in books to impress the science teacher. My sister gets upset that I give her son "such used junk". While the presents are still being given, she pulls out her husband's cell phone and scans the barcodes. I ask what's up with that, give the books to the kid. Sister says, he can read them at Christmas and between the days "when they are through" she can send them to Rebuy. Value of goods: < 10 euros. My heart breaks. I'm still going back to my one-room place on Christmas Eve. Sorry Kyle-Jeremy, I'm done with your family. Sister bought four cubic meters of “return boxes”, is there anything left to save? Source: https://www.reddit.com/r/Finanzen/comments/13vrao4/schwester_hat_vier_kubikmeter_retourenkisten/?ref=share&ref_source=link. 30/05/2023 I've already reported here about my sister's absurd investments, and also about the fact that she and her husband are really digging in to pay off their debts. As far as that is concerned, the two of them seem to be doing almost everything right and are paying off the debts consolidated thanks to the debt advisor really well every month. Sister has just increased her hours from 20 to 30, and the extra income goes almost entirely into paying off the debt. Unfortunately, the dream of quick money and, as they call it, "passive income" is probably still there and therefore they have done something really stupid: The two have bought from a wholesaler boxes of returned packages (like lootboxes, but IRL). In total there are 3 euro pallets stacked about 130 cm high. For this they borrowed 5000 € over three years, at 12% interest. To top it all off, they rented a small storage room to store the stuff. Cost: 39 € per month. I've already given up trying to explain that the storekeepers will surely check beforehand if there are any high-value electronic devices that have been returned, but my sister sees a TikTok video in which such a box contains ten iPhones and all reason flies out the window. "Yeah, if only one box is full of iPhones or PlayStations, it's already worth it!" The seller was even clever enough to include a delivery bill with an item that says "checked for electrical equipment" and left it unchecked. Real professional conmen. Now there are these three pallets in the storage room, for months, interest and rent accruing, only one of the boxes was even opened, as expected it was full of clothes and used cell phone cases and other junk, but somewhere the ten iPhones could be hidden. Now I chatted with the brother-in-law, listen, I say, can't you at least store the stuff in your basement and save the rent? No, he says, we're going to set it up really big soon and we'll need the storage space. Or, have you guys ever calculated whether you wouldn't make a lot more money if you just worked a few more hours? My sister works in a grocery store and earns a solid 14 euros an hour. No, instead she prefers to take the bus through half of Cologne from time to time to then briefly rummage around in the boxes in the storeroom, sell NOTHING (they really haven't advertised a single item yet), and go home again. Then I explained that the income is not passive, because they have to advertise every item, and sometime maybe ship, and manage the warehouse, and the returns of the returns and so on, and that it is actually no income, if you just pay on it, but against the TikTok scammers and Facebook hustlers I can't do anything to convince them. They also just don't understand that the mail order companies only sell the boxes because the calculated value of the goods is too low to make a profit. Such an attitude, according to my sister, ensures that I will remain an employee forever. I can already see my brother-in-law tossing and turning all night long, after the long shifts as a big cook, and every rainbow fidget spinner, every used vibrator and every Captain America cell phone case being laboriously advertised on eBay. Is there anything I can do to help, or do I just leave the family WhatsApp group and leave them to their madness? Actually, I'm really proud of their progress, but such actions make me doubt their sanity again and again. Update: Sister bought four cubic meters of “return boxes”, is there anything left to save? Original post: https://www.reddit.com/r/Finanzen/comments/15cn5jh/update_schwester_hat_vier_kubikmeter/?ref=share&ref_source=link. 29/07/2023 So, after coming back from Cologne last night, where I spent the last two weeks ironing out my sister's latest fail, I wanted to give you an update here. For those who don't feel like a long wall of text, the TL/DR: Of the original "investment" of my sister and brother-in-law of 5000 € we could still save approximately 2200 €. 2800 € and easily 100 working hours are simply gone. Most expensive item: LEGO 76223 Marvel Ironman glove (69 €) Average gross value of saleable goods: 13.29 € Expected net value Ebay: 600 € Expected net value classifieds / private sales: 1600 € Number of iPhones and PlayStations: Surprise, 0. Could TikTok have lied?! From the beginning: I had some vacation time left which I had to use up between two jobs and, stupid as I am, I went to Cologne during that time. The situation had made me a little stomach ache, because I knew that they would have to continue paying the warehouse rent and the credit debts, and I assumed that my sister hadn't done too much yet. I guess I underestimated her. I get to the storage room, and lo and behold, absolutely NOTHING happened. Exactly the same boxes were open as before, and in front of me the same massive mountain of junk and trash and odds and ends. Then first met my brother in law alone and talked to him in conscience, boy, you do not do that anyway, especially not "on a grand scale", and the bill just does not add up, let us at least cancel the storage room. Brother-in-law shows understanding and we cancel the room at the end of the month. At least 39 € a month less wasted. Then, the real work. My god. The things that people buy. After the first box, I wanted to throw in the towel and had a bit of a mental crisis. I've already mentioned cell phone cases and rainbow fidget spinners, but a good 50% of the stuff was completely unusable. Visibly worn clothes, food and preparations, a 36 cm double dildo... The stuff is immediately sorted out and thrown away, the old clothes container fattened like a fat guy at the Chinese buffet. Everything that somehow has an EAN (European article number) and is easy to hawk on ebay, I have advertised and taken home because I have an ebay account with good ratings and do not trust my sister with the fulfillment. That's a value of goods of about 800 €, but of which easily a quarter for shipping, fees and subsequent price corrections goes down the drain. So 600 € for me, for two weeks of work. Cool. The rest they put in classifieds. I made it as easy as possible for them, sorted everything by product groups, numbered the boxes, and created an Excel list with a sequential ID showing the box number, which I printed out for them to check off. Jeremy-Kyle is getting a few more smaller gifts, some stationery for him was also included (btw, what reason is there to return a stack of regular college pads, please?). Then yesterday morning I ordered a colleague who has a pallet truck and a van, drove all the junk across Cologne, dragged it down to the basement, sorted the boxes and put them on the shelves. After two weeks among trash, kitsch and garbage, I then drive home, enlightened from the realization that our highways and waterways are full so that Uwe, mid-thirties manchild, can buy a LEGO figure from his favorite superhero movie and get it the next day. Somewhere, we must have taken a wrong turn.... Reminder - I am not the original poster. submitted by /u/Raikhyt to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/HughJanus8675309 to r/greentext [link] [comments]

First | Prev | Next --- Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic Date [standardized human time]: October 22, 2136 The fact that the Arxur came to Earth’s rescue caused less of an uproar than I expected. It became a fact that was conveniently ignored by my government at large; instead, we celebrated the brave Venlil who hurled themselves in the Krakotl’s path. Many talking heads were happy to sell the narrative that the grays were taken for fools, assuming the newest predators shared their wickedness. The general public were unaware of the looming deadline to trade for our cattle victims. That ticking hourglass was on my mind, as I accompanied Noah to the United Nations’ remembrance speech. The event was open to human refugees; I hoped that I could find the strength to treat the upset primates with kindness. The shock of the heartbreaking images on Earth was beginning to wane, but my soul still ached for our friends. It was terrible to see an innocent species suffering without cause. “This has all been so sudden, and I know you’ve had pushback from your opponents. Have we outstayed our welcome here, Tarva?” Noah asked. I pressed my cheek against his forearm. “Never. There’s a few people that want you shipped off our world, soon as possible, but they’re a minority. I’ll always fight for you.” “Fight, huh? All that’s left is fighting. My pops used to say space was our ticket to a better future. I’m glad he didn’t see me fuck it all up. How disappointed he must be, if he’s watching from the afterlife.” “Oh sweetheart, I’m sure he’d be so proud of you, and the man you are. There was nothing else you could’ve said to the Federation. What happened to Earth has nothing to do with your speech. Nothing, you hear me?” “I appreciate you saying that. I do. And if you don’t mind me saying so, you look beautiful today.” I had no idea how to respond to such a forward remark, coming from a human, but it did warm my heart. The dynamic between Noah, an alien predator, and myself was not something to address at this particular moment. Clearing my throat awkwardly, I tried to track down Elias Meier. Earth’s chief diplomat proceeded with grace in the past, but a nudge toward sensibility might be necessary. It was my hope that he lacked conviction in any violent rhetoric he touted. The last time I saw the Secretary-General was when word of Earth’s devastation reached Venlil Prime. The fact that their militaries tallied such a miserable failure, and left their home at the Arxur’s mercy, morphed the dignitary into someone else. The distraught Meier had promised to ‘rend every enemy from limb to limb’, before rushing off for an audience with that ghastly Chief Hunter. I hadn’t been sure he’d survive an encounter with a predator that openly called me ‘dinner’ in our brief encounter. But the gray-haired human here now, mingling with alien dignitaries, was the person I knew. Meier had spent his lifetime building relationships with unique cultures. The only aspect he was unaccustomed to was the constant terror prey felt. But he was mindful enough, careful not to show his teeth to non-Venlil. His hands were kept in his pockets, to avoid gesticulating. “—glad you asked about the Arxur,” Meier was saying to Cupo. “When I spoke with them, face-to-face, their hotel room was pitch black. I couldn’t make out much of anything, other than a massive shadow looming over me. There’s a group of them, lying in wait, sizing me up like a cut of meat.” “And you still went in?! When you wanted to run away?” the Mazic president asked. “What choice did I have? Our instincts are nothing compared to yours, but I was thoroughly creeped out. I do hope that you can forgive us for accepting their tête-à-tête…with ten thousand warships surrounding Earth, a dialogue felt much more palatable than subjugation.” The other Federation representatives were crowding the Secretary-General, eavesdropping. It was a relief, and a bit of a surprise, to see him conversing with those who didn’t aid Earth. That smooth-tongued dialogue seeking the Mazic’s forgiveness, not the other way around, was stunning. I had expected him to launch into accusations over the indifference of their allies. The way Meier was acting a week ago, I thought Earth was going to isolate from everyone but us and the Zurulians. I don’t know what made him come to his senses, but this is a positive sign. Cupo stepped forward on all four paws, shadowing the human leader with his bulky stature. I snorted with amusement, as I noticed Elias shuffle back. He tried to play it off as fidgeting, but the predator seemed nervous about the Mazic’s size. I don’t think the sand-colored mammal realized the Terrans were equally intimidated by him. The Earthborn diplomats were well aware that a single kick of panic could cause serious skeletal damage. “I appreciate your explanation, but it still leaves me worried that you’re turning on us,” Cupo said. Meier coughed pointedly. “There’s a billion dead humans, and nothing will ever be the same again. Humanity stood alone, apart from the kindness of the Venlil, the Zurulians, and yes, the Arxur. Perhaps there would have been other options, if we received more help from our neighbors.” “I have never been dishonest with you: I don’t trust you. I think humans should be given a chance, because you are our only hope. But placing my people in harm’s way for predators, when that friendship is still a hypothetical, is unthinkable. Let alone raising arms against known sapients, who share centuries of partnered history with us.” The Mazic tensed as he breathed out the last word, expecting the predator to fly into a rage. The other alien diplomats listened with interest, perhaps because they held similar reasons. The Secretary-General’s pupils darted around, and his lips curved down with disdain. Was it my imagination, or did his hair look whiter than last I saw him? “That’s valid. It would have been easy for you to choose them over us, when it came down to the wire. I suppose doing nothing is a concession of itself,” Meier growled. Cupo blinked in surprise. “What? I expected you to disown us.” “That’s not why I’m here. Humanity, under UN leadership, will found our own Federation. I want as many members in our alliance as possible. I’ve started a project, with promising results, to weed out alien fear responses. The Mazics are one of the races I think have the most potential; you could lead this initiative.” “This would require leaving the current Federation? I would want to retain membership in both…if I’d even roll in the dirt with you at all.” Tossa, the Nevok diplomat, flicked her cream-colored ears. “I wouldn’t do anything that causes further risk to our trading networks.” “We can discuss this on a case-by-case basis,” Meier said. “What I need right now is for each of you to step up, and bring the thousands of Gojid refugees we saved to shelters. Their colonies are also without a government and supplies; who knows how long the Arxur recognize our ‘claim’ to them. We no longer have the power to do anything about that.” Cupo flapped his big ears. “I can handle that, predator. The Gojids deserve help.” “Good. Beyond that, we politely request that you send aid shipments to Earth. Anything you can spare out of generosity to get us back on our feet. I hate having to beg so plainly, but my cities were turned into irradiated soup.” The Secretary-General’s eyes darted over to the Sivkit ambassador, who had leapt into a wastebin at the first sight of humans. Perhaps it was time to confront her on her skittishness, though that would require a more private setting. While Meier was on the topic of aid shipments, this was the perfect time to slip to his side unnoticed. The Nevok ambassador pounced on Elias’ perceived weakness, and was rattling off a laundry list of terms. Tossa had attempted to barter for ownership of Luna and the asteroid belt, in the wake of the attack; this was an obvious nonstarter for the United Nations. This time, she was offering to manufacture ships and airdrop food in exchange for trade exclusivity. That was her true goal: to stop the Fissan Compact from landing advantageous deals. The Fissans often undercut the Nevok’s prices, and their trade war has spiraled to new heights. The fact that both of them reached out to actual predators, solely to screw the other over… Halmina, the Fissan representative, pointed her horn in a threatening manner. “I landed here two days ago, after our first representative died, and you’re trying to fuck me over? Human Meier, I’ll give you a month’s worth of food shipments free, with no strings attached. Just don’t agree to that.” “Predators, the Fissans’ll steal anything proprietary right under your noses,” Tossa hissed. “Do you want a species known for corporate espionage on your turf? Accessing military blueprints at the first opportunity?” “We didn’t steal your technology. We built it better and cheaper, and you can’t accept that. You used your monopoly to rip people off, so you can’t stand competition.” “We turn a profit, which we deserve for the hard work of our brilliant engineers. You upstarts might as well be uplifts, with shoddy—" “SHUT UP!” Noah roared. “Is now the time for your stupid feuds? What about Earth? If you want shit from humanity down the road, try helping us for the sake of helping us.” The tension that fell over the conference hall was so thick, that you could cut it with a knife. Sivkit ambassador Axsely was banging her head against the wastebin, wailing at the predatory outburst. The representatives were lucky the media cameras weren’t rolling, and that the human refugee audience hadn’t been allowed in the auditorium yet. Meier scratched his head with discomfort. “Well, I agree with him. A little charity and unity would be nice. I find the behavior of capitalizing on our misfortune rather, shall I say, predatory?” The Nevok recoiled in shock, floored by a literal flesh-eater directing that insult at her. Halmina at least had the decency to look shameful, pawing at the mane on her long neck. Something flashed in Noah’s eyes as he inspected her silver horn; he muttered something about Fissans ‘only needing hooves.’ I was beginning to wonder if my friend was losing it. Meier glanced at a wristband, then gestured for everyone to find their position. He curled his lip at Axsely’s trash-can hideout, and pushed the squealing grazer into a backroom. The auditorium doors were unlocked for public entry, and human spectators shoved their way inside. It blew my mind to see this many predators in one spot, on my own planet. I leaned over to the Secretary-General’s ear. “I want to talk to you, friend. You deserve an overview of how we’re treating your refugees.” “Not right now, Governor, but I have urgent information on the Arxur. You won’t believe what Isif actually said,” he replied. The gray-haired primate’s eyes flitted to the entryway, and widened in alarm. I wondered what spooked him about the incoming Terran refugees. There was nothing to make any of these people look more predatory than the others. If someone tried to charge the Secretary-General, I’m sure his bodyguards would intercept them. It seemed paranoid to travel with armed soldiers nearby at all times, but humans were poor at assessing danger. “Tarva, where the hell is the event security?” Meier hissed, through gritted teeth. “There are a lot of important figures in one place.” I snorted. “You actually think people would march through that door, and attack a public gathering?” “I…yes, I do. Damnit, you told us this was a secure venue! Get every diplomat to leave, only a few at a time. We don’t want to incite panic.” “You think danger is lurking around every corner. Humans are safe here, Elias. I’ve guaranteed that nobody will try to exterminate your packs.” “You misunderstand; I’m worried for you. Any of us are capable of violence when pushed. You’re dealing with humans who have lost everything, and are looking for anyone to blame. Especially aliens, and especially the UN, understand?” My focus turned to the incoming humans. Many were holding printed images of their cities or loved ones, and their predator eyes were stained with tears. Several Terrans were comforting each other, with light embraces or hand squeezes. These people looked devastated and heartbroken, nothing like angry beasts planning to maul the fluffy aliens. Regardless, it wasn’t like Venlil executed the attack. However, the level of jumpiness Meier was displaying was going to interfere with his speaking ability. If he required muscle to assuage his paranoia, it was better than seeming unstable on a live broadcast. Who would be cruel enough to target an event with such a gut-wrenching focus? I hadn’t thought Elias a man with delusions of grandeur, but maybe the recent power bestowed in him had gone to his head. The purpose of this was to console the hurting humans, and honor Earth’s memory. Even I know these predators don’t just attack out of hunger. “We’ll postpone the ceremony, if you insist,” I whispered. “But you can tell it to our Federation guests.” Elias sped off. The human exchanged words with the Fissans and the Paltans; they were the only two to send a replacement for the deceased ambassadors. Perhaps the Takkans, Dossur, and Thafki were weighing their options…or they doubted the predators’ message. Regardless, the Secretary-General made it a priority to evacuate the newcomers first. I suppose he didn’t want to risk them losing another diplomat to a violent end. Whatever Meier told the duo, it scared them sufficiently. Fearful expressions stretched across the aliens’ faces, and they bolted from the auditorium without hesitation. Was that predacious delivery necessary? I glared at the human, willing him to be more tactful. Cupo stomped up to the UN leader. “What are you up to? Is there a reason two ambassadors spoke with you, and immediately saw themselves out?” “Keep your voice down!” Meier hissed. “You damn predators always keep me in the dark! We’re in danger, aren’t we? I am sick of having threats concealed right in front of my trunk!” Nervous chatter swelled from the primarily-human audience, as the Mazic president made a scene. The fire alarm was activated by a bystander, and visceral screams echoed through the sprinkler-doused room. Several Terrans made a beeline for the exit, pushing and shoving each other to get out. It seemed like the predators were verging on a stampede, which I didn’t know was within their capability. “THE BACKPACK! It’s blinking!” A human’s thunderous voice permeated the chaos. “Run!” Ambassador Noah wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and hurried me toward our emergency exit. I had no idea what had just happened, but it was tugging at my own panicky instincts. Through the chemical fog, I worried that someone was going to get trampled in this madness. Elias was irresponsible. We should’ve just proceeded with the speech, instead of— A deafening blast rocked my eardrums, and the subsequent shockwave sent me and Noah flying. The impact rattled me down to the bone marrow, making every nerve tingle. Vision slipped away, and my addled brain could only register an incessant ringing. Pain flared in my tail. Something sharp, like a needle or a glass shard, had impaled itself in the bushy appendage. I coughed weakly, trying to move my arms. My pupils flicked out toward the sitting area, where a charcoal-colored mist shrouded the vicinity. Humans closest to the blast area were soaked in blood, and some seemed to be missing limbs. Their open mouths suggested they were screaming for help. I still couldn’t hear anything but high-pitched reverberations. Meier crawled over, his attire caked in dust. The aged predator was sporting cuts across his wrinkled forehead, but his eyes were something alien. I’d never seen a human in combat mode in person; that dilated stare jolted some life into my veins. My brain recognized him as an animal, with the erratic eye movements and strained breathing. The Secretary-General stopped adjacent to me, and jostled the shoulder of a facedown human. Horror flooded my chest, as I realized it was Noah beside me. Elias punched at the Ambassador’s chest several times, until glassy brown eyes blinked open. The elder Terran slapped the astronaut across the cheek, trying to snap him awake. Meier’s gaze searched for other survivors, before resting on me. His lips moved, but I could only make out hints of the sound. I think he was telling me to run away. The only reason I suppressed my fear of the adrenaline-fueled predator, was concern for Noah. That worry was a sickening knot in my stomach; I needed to see him stand up. “T…va,” the human ambassador croaked. “Get…here.” I had no idea if he was saying get out of here, or get over here, but I took it as the latter. My paws rushed over to his side, and his glazed eyes drifted to my tail. Horror flashed in his pupils; concern crossed Meier’s taut grimace as well. The injury must be worse than I thought, but I decided not to look. I didn’t want to pass out now. Noah struggled upright, fueled by worry for me. His hands steered me onward, and his wobbly steps became more certain. My mind hadn’t yet processed that humans had attacked their own remembrance ceremony. Right now, I prayed that there wouldn’t be a follow-up strike from whatever deranged predator plotted this. --- First | Prev | Next Early chapter access + bonus content on Patreon | Species glossary on Series wiki submitted by /u/SpacePaladin15 to r/HFY [link] [comments]

First | Prev | Next --- Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command Date [standardized human time]: October 6, 2136 The bulletproof vest afforded to me by the predators was snug around my spines, but nearly fell off my shoulders. Its shape was not designed for the rotund Gojid species. The slender curvature of the human spine was a polar opposite, evolved for grace and flexibility. I knew the armor might save my life, but I wish I waited longer to don it. My bristles were being compressed at irritating angles, and the nearest soldiers seemed annoyed by my inability to sit still. The humans were sandwiched together in the shuttle, brushing shoulders with each other. I was glad to be at the end, so I could lean toward the wall. Samantha traded places with Carlos halfway through the ride. She bore an obvious disdain for me, but the male guard had enough of my fidgeting. Many of the general soldiers curled their lips in contempt as well; I wasn’t winning any popularity contests with these predators. I was grateful we were only a minute out from the cattle vessel. “Did we succeed at paralyzing the Arxur transport?” I asked the female chaperone. Her eyelashes fluttered in annoyance. “Yes. Were you not listening to the damn announcements?” “Relax, Sam. It was an innocent question,” Carlos sighed. “I’m sure he just zoned out.” “You feel sorry for the racist war criminal?” a soldier called out. I saw a few humans nod their heads in agreement, which caused me to lower my gaze. There wouldn’t be many tears shed by anyone other than the UN brass, if the Arxur gunned me down today. Not that I blamed them; an honorable death wasn’t the worst thing I could think of. Dying scared me more than death. I wish I had a weapon, so I could actually help. I don’t want to stay back, and let them do all the fighting. “Well, that’s great news,” I said, ignoring the jab. “Can I have a gun?” “No,” a chorus of voices answered in unison. I waved my claws dismissively. “Worth a shot.” The shuttle lurched beneath my paws, and my vest pressed harder against my spines. There was going to be some light bruising tomorrow, if I lived past this battle. Our craft latched onto an Arxur wing, attaching itself to the immobilized transport. We inched forward so that our airlock stood across from theirs. A vac-suited predator slipped into our emergency airlock, and I strained to see his movements through the window. The Terran unfurled a walkway on our side, then floated across to the Arxur vessel with a gentle push. All that tied him to us was a thin rope on his waist. He tested a red lever with a feeble hand, and confirmed that it wasn’t locked. The human nodded to himself, and used some sort of suction technology to adhere the tunnel to the enemy ship. His feet clicked onto the ground, as the artificial gravity initiated. Once the corridor was sealed from the vacuum, he raised his thumb to the rest of us. I didn’t understand the signal, but the others took it as a go-ahead. The UN soldiers trundled out of the ship, wielding massive rifles. While the predators possessed few natural gifts, they were saddled with a truckload of gear. Their warriors were clad head-to-toe in black armor, including a hard shell atop their heads. Once they shoved reflective goggles over their eyes, humans looked like homogenous, impassive machines. “Stick behind us, Sovlin.” Samantha rose to her feet, falling into the rear of the pack. “We can’t leave you here to get captured. Take cover, and stay out of the way ‘til you’re needed.” Silence fell over our entourage, as the primates crossed the cattle ship’s threshold. I couldn’t help but notice the humans’ slinking posture, as though they were stalking prey in a shaded forest. They were crouched to a fraction of their normal height, with steps that were furtive and calculated. Their guns swiveled in every direction, searching for a target to pounce on. With a hint of reluctance, my paws followed them down the tunnel. There were some short bursts of gunfire, as they pumped a few unprepared Arxur full of lead. I suppressed a chuckle, knowing it would make me seem deranged. The enemy would raise the alarm now, but I relished that we got the drop on them. My attention switched to the reptilian interior, taking mental notes of its facilities. The Federation would kill for intelligence like this. The atmosphere was musty, but the lighting was rich and plentiful. The hygiene of the enemy ship surprised me as well; it didn’t reek of rotten flesh or blood. I guess those savages understood basic disease transmission after all. We followed the entryway a few hundred paces, before we reached a bend in the path. The team leader poked his head around the corner, and immediately recoiled. A barrage of bullets decimated the wall, where his shell-cap poked out moments earlier. He ducked back behind cover, hugging his weapon to his chest. “8 or 9 hostiles arming themselves, and taking positions,” he hissed. “They’re waiting for us.” We have more numbers than that, but the Arxur have a clear line of sight. They’re going to nail us as soon as we advance. A human rolled a metal canister across the floor, which released a milky plume of smoke. Irritants dispersed through the hallway, and I squinted to see anything. There was no way the Arxur could determine our position, if I could barely see my claws in front of me. Shrouded in the haze of silver mist, the Terrans stepped out from behind their refuge. The Arxur sprayed bullets in our direction, hoping to connect with something. These sounds helped the humans key in on their positions, and they spewed their own rounds back in return. Terrans seemed to fare better in low visibility, with their remarkable adaptiveness. The silhouetted movement I glimpsed in the mist suggested a few grays were hit. As the smoke dissipated, the primates sprang toward any makeshift shelter they could find. Carlos pulled me behind a supply cart, and popped his gun over the top. Samantha sprawled on the floor beside him. Her hands were steady as she gazed down the scope, and fired at an Arxur attempting to fall back. I didn’t know the grays could retreat. “I imagine, down that main staircase, we’ll find living quarters, the cattle pens, and the bridge,” Samantha growled. “They don’t want us to get to anything vital.” The female human stood to get a better look, and inched forward to join another UN cluster. My eyes drifted to the Arxur she shot, who was bleeding profusely. The enemy bastard was still twitching, until another Terran soldier unloaded a clip into its head. That was overkill, but hey, I wasn’t judging. Samantha caressed her rifle with a gloved hand, and waved for Carlos and I to follow. Hesitant as I was to move, the handful of hostile survivors were regrouping with their brethren. The Terrans blinding every combatant caught the Arxur off-guard. It forced them to make concessions, and await backup. The grays haven’t fought a true enemy in a long time, have they? I mused. They haven’t been on the back foot for a second in this war. Our weakness has made them complacent. There was no sound from the presumed Arxur position, and I guessed they were lying in wait. The UN contingent advanced with caution, creeping toward the stairway. Their boots glided across the metal, as light as the patter of rain. Whether they were coached by instinct, training, or generational experience, I did not know. A grating voice rumbled over the PA. “Greetings, fellow hunters. I take it you don’t appreciate that we, ah, stole your catch.” Several human predators startled, and their attention shifted overhead. My jaw almost dropped to the floor; the Arxur never conversed so eloquently with us. We translated their dialects at first contact, but I couldn’t remember them enunciating anything but vulgar threats in my lifetime. It was incredible that they had words for “greetings” or “appreciate.” “We would’ve offered to split the haul, if we realized our intrusion sooner,” the Arxur continued. “You made things much easier for us, and we’re not entirely ungrateful. You already learned that Gojids make excellent slaves, judging by your companion.” I bared my teeth, incensed that this monstrosity thought I was a human plaything. While I was a Terran prisoner, that was a far cry from servitude and degradation. There was nothing I had been forced to do; my presence on this mission was voluntary, and my treatment was fairer than I deserved. Carlos nudged me, pointing to a blinking red light on the ceiling. There was a camera tracking our movements, and granting the enemy a full view of our advance. He raised only his middle finger, and several of his counterparts copied the gesture. I didn’t understand what that meant either, but I guessed it was something hateful. “Go fuck yourselves!” the male guard shouted. Probably that. Note to self. “Ah, to be a young race again. Let’s get that aggression out of our systems. Then, after, we should pool our resources to bring the lesser species to heel.” The reptile sounded almost disappointed, as though it would enjoy a test of strength. “Anything else would be…wasteful, when our interests are aligned. As loathsome as ‘sharing’ is, there’s enough food to go around.” Did those demons just offer to ally with humanity against the Federation?! My blood boiled at the thought. It had to be a trap, since everyone knew the Arxur were incapable of inter-species cooperation. They couldn’t get along with themselves. The grays were locked in a global bloodbath, which jeopardized their world’s survival, when we found them. The prospect of the Terrans switching sides was unnerving, all the same. The clawless “omnivores” hadn’t been welcomed into the galaxy with open arms. The lack of clarity from our factions meant threats could still reside within the Federation. Would humans view siding with monsters as the only way to save their Earth? Carlos gunned down the camera lens with prejudice, and answered the question for me. His knuckles were strained against the cloth coverings, from being clenched around his rifle. The soldier at the advance’s forefront raised a fist, and our posse shuffled to a halt astride of the staircase. Odds were, the enemy was gathering in the deck underneath us. “Fire in the hole!” a human voice declared. A UN soldier lobbed a grenade into the open area, and we watched it clatter down the incline. The resulting explosion detonated atop any Arxur in the vicinity. I heard a gurgling scream, as if shrapnel hit one of the reptiles in the throat. My predatory allies moved down the first steps, and followed it up with another explosive toss. That should be enough to get the enemy to move back. The primates bounded down the last of the staircase, and jammed down their firing triggers. I followed Samantha’s movements, and tried to keep my head low. We took refuge behind a trash can, in what appeared to be a mess hall. There were blood-speckled trays and reading materials left abandoned on the tables. What do you know? Eating sentients is a communal activity, I guess. Arxur gunfire peppered the walls around us, and took down several humans. Other Terrans stepped in as soon as they saw a counterpart felled, dragging them to safety. Attempts to stymie the bleeding looked hopeless, in many cases, but their efforts were charged with emotion. It was mind-boggling how a predator’s warrior class could forge such deep bonds. How they could even think of their fellow man, during the insanity of battle, was beyond me. The amount of Arxur tickled every flighty urge in my DNA, and overstimulation made my head swim. This wasn’t at all like my revenge fantasies. I was helpless, without any weapon, if one of them lunged at me. I could sense several reptilian eyes on me. From their vantage point, dinner just walked in front of a firing squad. Malicious snarls sent in my direction told me what they saw in my form. The humans, for all their unwanted teeth baring, had never seemed so “distracted” by me. “S-stay calm, Sovlin. You hate predators. You want them to burn, rot, and die in agony,” I murmured. Samantha snorted. “Gee, thanks.” “Not you. You’re different.” “Whatever you—" A stray bullet grazed the female’s headgear. She sensed it clip her cap, and fell back as a kneejerk reaction. The soldier dragged herself back up against the waste bin, with erratic breathing. After taking a moment to collect her wits, she worked to get her rifle situated. Guilt flashed through my mind, realizing my distraction almost killed her. Calling my guards friends would be a stretch, since that required a mutual respect. But they had become familiar faces, and I didn’t wish for anything to happen to them. There had to be some way for me to help, rather than impede their progress. Carlos was crouched a few paces deeper, using an upturned table as a shelter. Several UN soldiers were positioned there, coordinating fire. My eyes widened in alarm as I saw an Arxur duo attempting to encircle them. I shouted to warn the humans, but the deafening pops of gunfire drowned out my words. Panic fluttered in my chest, as a reptile straightened its rifle. Sitting here and doing nothing wasn’t an option; Samantha was too rattled from her encounter to react in time. The mangled Arxur corpse, downed by a grenade at the base of the staircase, caught my eye. A crazy thought leapt into my head, as I glimpsed the bloodied gun in its grip. “SOVLIN! What the fuck are you—" the female human began. I dashed out behind cover, and retraced my short steps into the room. The tile was slick with blood, which made traction a struggle. Prying the firearm from the beast’s lifeless grasp, I tried to line up the shot. My heart was hammering at a million parsecs an hour, and my paws quivered too much to steady it. The lead Arxur fired off the first shot, nailing one of Carlos’ companions in the back of the neck. The other humans whirled around, but they couldn’t react in the half-second it would take to execute them all. Gritting my teeth, I tried to lock my wrists. I released several rounds, praying I wouldn’t accidentally hit the Terrans. Two of my five bullets nailed the first Arxur, and it crumpled to the floor. Its partner stumbled over the body, which gave the primates enough time to swivel around. An unfamiliar Terran blew its head off with panicked motions. Carlos turned his masked skull, looking for the source of the shots that saved him. His gaze faced me, as I skittered back to Samantha. The female snatched the firearm from my grip, tucking it under her arm. “You’re really going to take the gun away?” I groaned. “I saved…” She offered a grudging sigh. “You saved Carlos’ life.” “I’m good at killing…for a Gojid. Let me help, please.” “Not a chance. Don’t even think about pulling a stunt like that again.” I chewed at my claws, and leaned back against the wall. Several human corpses were strewn about the entry point, suggesting many hadn’t been as lucky as Carlos. These Terran soldiers were resilient, but it was evident Arxur marksmen had wicked accuracy. About half of our active allies appeared to be nursing injuries, which spoke to an unrivaled ability to persist through pain. Then again, I couldn’t tell when crimson bloodstains were theirs, or a comrade’s. Regardless, our ranks weren't unscathed. From what I could make out of the scenery, the grays had suffered their fair share of casualties too. Their numbers were whittled down to ten or so, by my estimation. The UN warriors were starting to gain ground, and flush the enemy out. I don’t think the reptilians were prepared to fend off a larger contingent of predators. The hostile gunfire ceased without warning, and I tilted my head in bewilderment. A firearm skidded across the floor, followed by a series of others. A handful of Arxur rose to their full height, watching the primates’ next move. The humans paused their barrage, suspicion glowing in their eyes. What in the name of the Protector was this? --- First | Prev | Next Early chapter access on Patreon | Species glossary on Series wiki submitted by /u/SpacePaladin15 to r/HFY [link] [comments]

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