Lounge Chairs For Outside

I am not The OOP, OOP is u/stinkyfurniture Brother's friend wanted a place to store 'a couple of wardrobes and a bed' while he moved back with his parents until the covid crisis is over. My house is now packed full with urine-stinky furniture. What can I legally do with it? Country NSW Australia. Originally posted to r/legaladvice TRIGGER WARNING: exploitation, things covered in shit, possible hoarding MOOD SPOILER: Disgusting (you can smell this post) BoRU 1 Posted by u/bestupdator Original Post June 21, 2021 I get on OK with my brother, and his friend hadn't shown any hint of being an idiot over the last 15 years so I went along with this. I'll call my brother's friend Doug. My brother phoned me a while back and asked if I could do a favour for Doug and he put doug on, and doug told me he's gotta move back in with his parents because he lacks work like all of us, and needs a place to store 'a couple of wardrobes full of clothes, and a bed' for about six months until things open up again. My brother told doug I had a spare room with not much in it (which is true), and I was happy to help so I said sure, bring it over. The spare room is more than big enough for a couple of wardrobes and a bed. Through miscommunications and a shift change at work I couldn't be there when doug moved out of his old place and put his stuff in the spare room, so I dropped my spare key to my brother and he supervised doug. on Friday afternoon I came back home to a house packed full of what looks like every possession doug has ever owned packed into every room of my house, and almost all of it is urine stained and covered in mouse droppings. "A couple of wardrobes full of clothes and a bed" has turned into two wardrobes full of mouse droppings clothes and boxes, a dozen garbage bags of more clothes, six chairs and a kitchen table, a bedside table, a dozen boxes of books, two bookcases, boxes of kitchen implements, half a dozen wall hangings and paintings, a house door covered in stickers, a credenza, a single bed and a double bed (both of them REEK of urine and bloke), four small chests of drawers, three kitchen cupboards, a pair of card tables, and two refrigerators with food in the freezers and plugged into my power, and more bags of bedclothes, electronics, just about everything to fill a regular small house. Everything in the house stinks and I can't do this. I don't mean it just has a scent to it, it stinks badly. I can taste the stink in my mouth even when I'm out of the house. With the heater on now it's winter it's nauseating. I phoned doug and told him he has to come and get this all out, and he can't. He's already 600km away on his parents property and has no money left. I told him I'm going to dump the lot of it if he doesn't come get it, and he told me I'd made a binding verbal agreement with him and if I damaged anything of his he'd come down on me like a tonne of bricks with legal action. ten minutes after getting off the phone with him, his dad phoned and made more threats the same. I can't reach any of the shelving in my spare room, I can't use half my couch or my art desk, I can only JUST reach my own clothing in my bedroom drawers and I can only use one chair in my kitchen. I've contacted my brother and a stupid shrugging noise and said he thought that's what I agreed on. What am I legally allowed to do with all this? I agreed to a couple of wardrobes and a bed. I did NOT agree to a house full of stuff. I want to at least get the worst of it out of the house immediately but it's been raining and we have a week more rain forecast. I can't afford to put it in storage, I'm slowly draining my savings the last few months as work has been cut back due to covid. I don't have a garage or shed, I have no undercover place to put any of this. Best I could do was borrow a tarp and wrap up the worst wardrobes and clingwrapped the beds but that's only a minor help as it all smells bad. I did a house plan drawing, sorry it's rubbish. on the left is my normal house, TV is the lounge, S spare room D desk room B bedroom and K kitchen. on the right is the same with all of doug's stuff added in red. https://imgur.com/a/I0eXuDz RELEVANT COMMENTS b30kay Before you do anything make sure to take pictures. OOP Thanks for that, good suggestion. Doing it right now. ~ glitzycupcake Not a lawyer, but I’d wager that anyone with this much disgusting shit probably doesn’t have the $$ or funds to sue. I’d just dump it if I was you. OOP Good point. I'm sitting here in this guy's filth in one of the few places I still can and I'm tempted to do that right now. I have a couple of mates who already offered to help. glitzycupcake I mean, does the guy seem like he’s got the ability to back up his claims? OOP The more I think about it the more I'd say no. His parents do own a large property way north of here. They'd be the ones who can afford it. Edit: ok this has gone beyond legal advice and beyond a joke I think, I just went around taking photos and doug has a dried up used cat litter tray in the bottom of his wardrobe underneath clothing, the bags of clothing have mouse nests in them, and there are cockroaches. I've phoned friends, we're dumping it on the front lawn tonight (it's 1130pm here) and I'm texting doug's parents with the photos and if they want any of it they'll come get it. I'll deal with the consequences of that later, my sanity and sanitation is worth more. UPDATE Brother's friend wanted a place to store 'a couple of wardrobes and a bed' while he moved back with his parents until the covid crisis is over. My house was packed with stinky furniture and it's all OK now. NSW Australia June 24, 2021 (3 days later) It's all solved. On Monday morning I sent photos of everything disgusting I could and of doug's furniture on the lawn to doug and his dad telling them it's beyond foul and I wouldn't be keeping any of it inside my house, and I'll dump it this week if they don't come get it. Twenty minutes later I got a call from doug's mother. She asked if it was so bad could I send her some evidence, like photos. I told her I'd already sent them to her son and his dad. She yelled out in the background to one of them "She says she DID send photos" then she got off the phone. Half an hour later she called me back and said they'd be down to pick up doug's stuff, and apologised. She asked if his books were OK. Apart from the mouse gnawing and droppings, yes. I'm not a barbarian, they were outside but under the eaves. This morning they turned up from 600km away. doug and his dad wanted to begin packing in their pantech but doug's mum wasn't having any of that. They dumped 90% of it at the tip and came back & took just a few things home. Even the food in the freezers was off. His mum apologised and offered to make me good with cash, but she's already solved enough and I declined. She left it open ended and said if I needed anything fixed to call her. I know I didn't follow legal advice, but this was the equivalent of someone asking you to hold onto a small keychain sized box for half a year, but instead they sneakily cover you in fifty kilos of feces you're not allowed to wash off until you get a lawyer and fill out all the right paperwork and wait a month. I just couldn't do it. I got lucky. I've had words with my brother and changed the locks to my place too. He'd opened up and let doug and doug's mates in, then left the key behind with him. He didn't know how bad it was either. My brother is an idiot and doug is a 32 year old baby and hopefully I'm a little wiser. THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7 submitted by /u/Direct-Caterpillar77 to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

I’m looking for recommendations for European stores, outside the UK, that sell good-quality Eames lounge chair replicas / inspired versions and are still active in 2026. I’d love to hear from people who actually bought one in the past few years and can comment on: overall build quality comfort leather / veneer quality how it held up over time Thanks submitted by /u/tserban to r/eamesknockoffs [link] [comments]

A long time ago, someone asked me a strange question. It was my last year of high school. I was drunk out of my mind and crashing at a friend’s place. We were coming down from an after party and half of us didn’t want to go home. Two guys were sleeping on the floor. One was nodding on and off in a lazy boy in the corner, still gripping a forty. I was on the couch with a curly-haired girl, talking about nothing. “You know how to spot a Kinda Thing?” “What kinda thing?” “No, no,” she said, lazily shaking her head. “Not a kind-of-thing. A Kinda Thing.” “You’re not making any sense.” She poked me in the chest and put her head on my shoulder, falling half-asleep as she explained. “It’s a game. It teaches you to think about stuff.” “Alright, what is it?” “You sure you wanna know?” “I mean, now I have to.” I was barely paying attention. My hands smelled like cheese snacks and rubber. We’d been playing ping-pong, and the rackets were kinda cheap. “Think of a place you spend a lot of time in. Like… several times a week. But not all the time. Not like your bedroom.” “I don’t spend all my time in my bedroom.” “Come on, you got a place in mind?” I thought about this alleyway between my family home and my neighbor. It was this fenced-off alley, not big enough to drive a car through. I went there every day on my way to class. “Aight,” I nodded. “I got one.” “Now think of something in that place. Something you know, but don’t own. Something you’ve seen, but… got no pictures of.” “Gimme a sec.” I thought about this one particular thing. It was a little teddy bear keychain that someone had put on one of the fence posts. Nothing big, just a plastic thing with a heart in the middle of the chest and an all-too neutral teddy bear smile. Just a fun little quirk on an otherwise depressing stretch of concrete. “Alright, I got a thing.” “You know what colors it is?” she asked. I had an idea, but I wasn’t 100% certain. There was some red in there, I knew that much. A bit of yellow. But I couldn’t say exactly what was what. Maybe the nose was black? “Kinda?” I said. She looked up at me and poked me in the chest again. “That’s a Kinda Thing,” she muttered. “They’re pretty cool.” She sat up and stretched a little, kicking over an empty can. The guy with the forty had fully admitted defeat and curled up into a ball. “They exist on the edge of things,” she explained. “It could be blue. It could be yellow. It could change into red. There’s no way to really know. It only exists in your memory.” “But it’s red.” “How can you know for sure? Like, for sure for sure?” “I can check it.” “What if it wasn’t red yesterday? Do you know, for sure, what it was yesterday?” “I mean, things don’t change color.” “Kinda Things do.” “You’re making this sound like a ghost story.” “Who says it isn’t?” We got into this weird wine-fueled philosophy nonsense that lead us nowhere and ended up making out on the patio, staying up til dawn. As the sun rose and a car came to take her away, I decided to drag myself home. As I wandered, I took the route through that alley. And like always, the teddy bear keychain hung on one of the posts. Except the thing wasn’t red, or yellow. It was blue, like my mother’s novelty sunflowers. There were a couple of red spots along the paws, but the main thing was all blue. I’d been certain it was supposed to be all red, but maybe I’d just focused on the details. I picked it up, put it in my pocket, and instantly forgot about it. I wouldn’t see that keychain for a long time, and I wouldn’t think much of it. But I guess that’s the nature of Kinda Things. I saw that keychain a couple of times over the next few years. When I moved into my college dorm, I had it resting on my windowsill. I think my mom put it there. At some point I knocked it over and it rolled under a nightstand, where I didn’t find it until years later when I graduated. From there, it ended up in a box of knick-knacks, which ended up on a shelf in my apartment. It wasn’t an exciting journey, but it was my journey. You sort of forget how long things stick around until you’re old enough to look back. I got my bachelor’s degree, my master’s degree, and got working on a doctorate. As part of my doctorate, I had to teach a class. My expertise circled around information science, with a slight leaning towards digital architecture and preservation, but I wanted to give my classes something to make them really stick. That was the first time in years that I thought of Kinda Things. Problem was, once I went looking for that teddy bear keychain to bring to class, I couldn’t find it. When I held my first class, I told them all about the Kinda Things. I asked my students to consider what their own Kinda Things would be. It was all framed in the context of how important it is to preserve factual information in a way that makes it contextually aware, but for all the first-year students, it turned into a thing to share at parties. And the circle of drunk philosophers continued for another generation. It was fun though, they all had something. A cracked coffee cup. An old bike wheel abandoned near the football field. A baseball cap on the top shelf that they couldn’t reach. All little things that didn’t matter but were important enough to be made and forgotten about. And now I had a whole class thinking about them. Every class I taught heard that story. I skipped the part where I made out and smelled of fritos, they didn’t need the details. Not everyone knew my name, but they all remembered me asking that first question, on the first day of class. You know how to spot a Kinda Thing? By the time I turned 27, I finished my doctorate. I had a paid position, but I was looking for something more permanent. You don’t go chasing tenure right away, and I wanted to do more experimental work. Maybe field work, even. I had applied for a couple positions at colleges out of state. Not ivy league, but up there in the charts. I figured this was as good a time as any to stretch my wings after spending all of my life in one state and city. One of my proposals got picked up, and my time as a teacher of that one class was swiftly coming to an end. One more semester, and that would be it. It was bittersweet; I’d gotten to know my colleagues pretty well. They were a fun bunch of nerds, having board game nights in the lounge. They all had this thing where they used cleaned-out vodka bottles as water bottles, just so students could take funny pictures and go “this is my professor LOL”. I was sad to see it come to an end, but it was time to move on to newer things. New can’t always be bad, and my colleagues had planned one hell of a going away party. It was the last day of class, a Friday. They were holding a bit of an event for my last class, and all my colleagues were there. Some held speeches, and the students were invited to share some anecdotes as well. There were a lot of nice words. I won’t lie, I got a bit teary-eyed. Once things come to an end, everything gets put into the perspective of how much you’re going to miss it. Every stupid little detail. As a final hoorah, they revealed a gift to me. Something for me to bring to my next office. I could tell it was a box of some kind, covered in a big white cloth. They pulled it off with a magician’s flair. We all applauded. There was a box, that much was right. A big one. At first it looked like a junk drawer. A rock with googly eyes, an old horseshoe, a tasteless bronze leprechaun, things like that. But once I saw the text printed on the side, it all made sense. ‘Kinda Things’. “We decided to get them for you,” a colleague said, leaning on my arm. “We know how much you love them, so we all went out and got our Kinda Things. We figured you’d enjoy them.” I’ve never been so proud to get a box of junk. The next few weeks were a blur. Moving trucks, cleaning, leases, putting those plastic buttons on the legs of new furniture so they don’t scrape the floor. Putting up shelves, straightening photos and paintings, washing the cloth for the kitchen table. Making a space into a home, one tacky bachelor item at a time. All the while I had a box resting on top of my closet, still proudly labeled ‘Kinda Things’. I got an apartment with three rooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen. I hadn’t planned on living that large, but it was too cheap for me to pass up. I made one room into my bedroom and the other my living room, but I wasn’t so sure about the third one. I decided I’d make it into a guest room, somewhere down the line. For now, it was storage space. Somewhere for me to put boxes of memories that didn’t quite matter. Not just the Kinda Things, but the baseball cards, the participation trophies, and the signed band shirts. It was all in there. I think most people have a space like that, in one way or another. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. I was settling into a new job, with new people, in a new town. I was learning what places made the best tofu dishes, there was no time to reminisce. I had to look forward. If you don’t, things in the rear-view look bigger than they really are. On my first day of class, I brought the box of Kinda Things. I barely looked at it; I was too busy trying to keep the notes in my head organized. I couldn’t half-ass my first day on the job, I had to make an impression. Not just for my students, but there’d be a couple of new colleagues in the crowd. That’s why I brought the box. Crowds love props. I shook hands with those who attended, introduced myself, and got a moderate crowd of about 40 people for my first day. Not just a class, but a couple of extras. I asked them all to sit up front as I unveiled the box. I had it turned outward towards the students. I barely saw the thing myself. “No photos,” I emphasized, shushing them with a finger like I was telling a secret. “No pictures, and no ownership. You can keep them, but they’re never really yours.” That got a couple of chuckles. I had a presentation ready and had them name a couple of Kinda Things in their own lives as I slowly pivoted into a metaphor related to my field of study. It was pretty clean, I’d used that particular setup a couple of times before. And yet, there was something about that one class that didn’t sit right with me. I couldn’t put my finger on it. It wasn’t just being nervous about a new job, it was something about the crowd. Every time I looked back, my eyes got stuck on something. Like how you react to sudden movement, but with nothing changing. Something was putting me on edge, and I couldn’t point my finger at what it was. Coming back home after a long day, I put down my box of Kinda Things in the hallway and got myself a cold beer. I wasn’t going anywhere, and I’d spent all my social energy in one go. There’d been muffins in the lounge, and everyone wanted to talk to me about my various articles. And, of course, the Kinda Things. Everyone always wants to tell me about their Kinda Thing. I walked into my budding guest room, with its mint green walls. I put down my beer and tossed the box back up on the closet. As I did, something tumbled out. My teddy bear keychain. It landed on the floor with a little rattle. I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. It couldn’t have been in the box, I would’ve seen it. Or maybe I put it there during the move, and forgot about it. Strange. I hadn’t seen it for a long time. I picked it up and rolled it between my fingers, looking at the colors and shapes. It wasn’t like how I remembered it. It wasn’t all blue, like I thought it was. It was mostly gray with details of blue and red. The eyes looked like lemons. The heart in the center of its chest was a little smaller than I remembered. I decided to take the box back down to check if there was anything else I’d accidentally put in there that I’d forgotten about. I sat down on the floor, took another sip of beer, and opened the box. For a moment, my mind short-circuited. I had never seen any those things before. There was an old-timey alarm clock with a broken spring, what looked like a watermelon paperweight, and a handheld dinner bell without the ringer thing in the middle. I hadn’t seen any of those items before, and I was more than certain that I’d gone through that box at least once or twice. But then, why couldn’t I remember those things, and who gave them to me? I sat there, trying to think of the names of the students who’d been there. I remembered them fairly well, but I couldn’t point to who gave me what. That, and little details about them had faded. Was it Josh or Joshua? Did one of them have an NHL or NBA cap? I could sort of remember the outline, but not the absolute details. It gave me a moment to pause. I considered that there might be such a thing as Kinda People. Those people you spend a little time with every now and then, but never really get to know. Peripheral people. Pseudo-people. If that’s the case, who’s to say I wasn’t someone’s Kinda People? I mean, I had to be. Right? I shook the thought out of my mind, finished my beer, and got up off the floor. I headed for the door, closed my hand around the handle, and pulled. Nothing happened. Had it always been opened outward? Of course it had. It was just a new apartment, and I was getting accustomed to it. And yet… I’m not one for being paranoid. Through all my years of talking about Kinda Things, I always considered them a fun thought experiment. Some talked about them like demons, or ghost stories. Like they were supposed to bring something horrible. I never saw it like that, they were just this idea to consider about the nature of permanence. They weren’t malicious things. And yet, I started to get this uncomfortable sensation in my stomach whenever I passed by my guest room. It wasn’t a conscious thought, just this sense of unease. Like there would be something new for me to misremember if I entered that room, with that box, and didn’t pay attention. I tried to remember exactly what I’d seen in that box, and what color they were, but without going in there to check there was no way to know for sure. That just made it worse. I finally decided that I was going to indulge my superstition, just to demystify the whole thing. One weekend I got my phone, a notepad, and decided I was going to write down and photograph everything in that box. After that, I would never have to think about it again. It could even be a fun thing to try against my students. Maybe I could ask them to remember as many things as possible from the box and cross-check it at the end of the semester to see how many points they score. I’d brought a small coffee table and a chair from the kitchen. I pulled the curtains open, letting in some moonlight. It was late May and the nights were growing shorter. Perfect for someone who’d run out of steam grading assignments all Friday. I took down the box from the top of the closet and noticed the teddy bear keychain. Nothing strange about it, other than it being in the box. I must’ve put it there when I put the box back up. No point in getting antsy at the first item. Then again, the eyes looked more mango than lemon. How could I have been so certain about the lemon color? Maybe the moonlight made it look different. I brought out one item after another, only stopping briefly to think about who gave it to me. I remembered quite a lot of them. I could pretty clearly tell which of them were from my colleagues, and which weren’t. A couple of items were probably just random debris that one picked up just to be in on the joke. However, I suspected that quite a few things were probably authentic Kindas. I went through the items one by one, taking pictures and writing their features down in a notebook. It was a strange feeling, sitting alone with so many uncertainties. About three dozen thought experiments, all neatly lined up and catalogued. The final item I wrote down was a little ceramic frog in a tux, smoking a cigar. There were some folks outside making a ruckus, so I got up to close the guest room door. I paused for a moment to consider which way the door went. It opened outward. Sitting back down, I took a closer look at the ceramic frog knick-knack. It wasn’t smoking a cigar; it was more like a cigarette. A long, lean one. It wasn’t a big detail, but it was enough to make me doubt myself. What if I had catalogued something else wrong? Just a teeny, tiny bit wrong? That would put the whole thing into question. I had to be certain. I went back along the line of items, double-checking. I made a few corrections. The alarm clock was stuck on 1:30, not 1:25. The broken spring went around six times, with a twirl at the end; not seven times, with a straight end. And finally, I was back to my teddy bear keychain. I wrote down the details as I remembered them. Scratching my head, I got up. I needed a break anyway. I went back to the guest room door and tugged on the handle. It was supposed to open outward, but it didn’t. I pulled it inward instead. That didn’t work either. I took a step back, feeling a stone sink into my chest. I could hear my own breathing as the room felt smaller. I put my hand on the handle again and took a deep breath. I’d opened this door before. I knew it would open again. I turned the handle and pushed – it swung outward. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then again, why was I relieved? What was I expecting? There was no world in which that door wouldn’t open, so what was the big deal? I decided I wouldn’t let myself be tricked by uncertainty. I closed the door and opened it again. Then I did it again. Then I did it a third time, but with a little celebratory twirl. As I came around, I noticed something on the coffee table. The frog was definitely smoking a cigar. I stopped mid-twirl and looked a little closer. That wasn’t right. I’d written cigar, crossed it out, written cigarette, and now it was certainly a cigar again. I picked it up and held it up to the light. Definitely a cigar, no question about it. In every conceivable angle. I tried to get a reference point, like how the cigar was as thick as its froggy fingers. A cigarette wouldn’t be like that. That was something I could rely on. A measurement, not a casual observation. I put it down and stepped back, looking at the table as a whole. Without perceiving every single item individually, there were things I didn’t recognize. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but I knew something looked different. Or maybe not even looked. It felt different. For the first time, I considered that maybe Kinda Things weren’t just a thought experiment. Maybe there really was something to them. Maybe the items at the fringe of our lives do possess some quality that we don’t perceive until we sit down and look. And if that was the case, what might happen if you put 36 of them in a single room and close the door? Hold on, I didn’t close the door. It was open last time I checked. I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. I was spiraling for no reason, working myself up over nothing. Like staring at a still picture, thinking there’s a ghost in it. These weren’t ghosts or creepy crawlies, they were just little things left by the roadside. Figuratively, and literally. I picked up the first thing I spotted and held it up; a little glass snail. It’d lost one of its eye stalks. I looked to my reference sheet to confirm which eye it was, only to realize the snail wasn’t on the sheet to begin with. Had I missed it? At that point, I stopped. I flicked the snail across the room, grasped my head, and said ‘No’ out loud. I needed to hear the word to ground myself. I was making things up. I had to be. I decided to call it a night, leaving it all on the table for now. I shook my head and turned to the window, grasping for the curtains as I checked my phone. It was getting close to 11pm. There were no curtains. Looking up, I realized I was standing at the wrong end of the room. The window was to the right, and there were no curtains. I had been so certain just a second ago, but my hand just tapped against the eggshell wallpaper. I was getting confused. Turning back around, I noticed two things. One, that the door was slightly more to the right than I thought it would be, and that the coffee table was up against the leftmost wall. It’s like I’d turned the wrong way. My eyes briefly crossed over, and I saw double. I shook my head again, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. I tried telling myself it was conditioning. I had been thinking about uncertainty all day, and I was tricking myself into a pattern of thought. I headed for the door, turned the handle, and pushed outward. Again, nothing. This didn’t make sense. I knew it opened outward, and I refused to believe otherwise. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong, and I had to accept that this was not normal. Over the next few minutes, it felt like everything changed every time I looked away. The window felt smaller. The door had the handle on the wrong side. The coffee table was up against the leftmost wall, then the right. The wallpaper was eggshell, then got a slight hint of maroon. The floor was imitation wood, then a textureless brown plastic. I pulled on the door a couple of times, but it didn’t open either way. I turned to open the window, but it was gone. I could feel a cold sweat coming on. I wasn’t imagining this. It wasn’t a misunderstanding. I knew what was out there, and I knew I’d looked out that window dozens of times. I backed away and put my hand on the light switch. I flicked it off, and on again. A couple of things changed. A few items seemed to have moved. One of the closet doors was open. I flicked the light again, faster this time. The table was slightly angled. The window was still gone. I reached for the light switch again, but it was higher up than before. I flicked it off, and back on again. But the light did not come back on. I fumbled around in the dark. I could feel myself stepping on things that weren’t supposed to be there. I stubbed my toe against the coffee table in the middle of the room. I fumbled with my hands along all four walls of the room, but I couldn’t find the door. I couldn’t find the closet. After a while, I couldn’t even find the coffee table. I tried lying down flat and spreading out my arms, hoping to touch pretty much whatever. After a couple of tries, I couldn’t even find my way back to the wall. It was just me and this impressionless void. It didn’t make sense to me. I knew exactly where things were supposed to be. I knew what I was supposed to be looking at. But that didn’t matter. I brought out my phone and turned on the flashlight. I didn’t have a lot of battery, but it would have to do. I could see my own hands, but nothing else. It was just this intense darkness where not even moonlight could reach. I got down on my knees and touched the floor. This textureless, neutral floor. Not cold, or warm, just a solid matte black. The light didn’t reflect off of it. I walked around. At times I would bump into a wall, but when I turned, the way forward was wide open. I tried jumping a couple of times, but my feet didn’t make a sound. I tried calling out, but there was no echo. Not even reverb. It was such a strange sensation that it hurt to comprehend. I ran, and crawled, and jumped and rolled. There was just nothing. Nothing. And when I screamed, I couldn’t hear it outside my head. It felt like I was inside a cube. Not a room, but like a big, dark, cube. It’s as if the Kinda Things had made everything so uncertain that I slipped between the cracks, ending up in someplace in-between. If I tripped or fell, I could feel myself rolling off the floor and landing on what was previously a wall, making me think every angle was made to be uncertain. Designed to change. After a while, I just started walking forward. I walked and walked and walked, but never hit a wall. Ten minutes, still no wall. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and I could taste salt on my tongue. Without anything outside yourself, you start to notice details you would otherwise ignore. Like how you breathe, or how your heart sounds as it beats. You can hear the tendons stretch in your legs with every step and you start to question ‘why’. I tried to fixate on things I knew for certain. My name. My parents. The name of my childhood friends. But even in that circle of grounding, there was doubt. What color were my mother’s eyes really? And that damn teddy bear keychain. What did it really look like? That seemed to shift something. There was a flash, like a light post going past a speeding car. That was something. Reaction. Maybe the Kinda Things, if they got me lost, could also help me find a way back. I thought about that teddy bear keychain. I tried to imagine myself on that first drunken morning, picking it up from the fence behind my family home. I remembered turning it over in my hands, looking at the colors and the patterns. But in that thought, there was nothing there. Just this swirling pattern of black and white, like the static between TV channels. Thinking about it tickled my hands, making my brain feel like it needed to discard the memory like an unpleasant sneeze. I brought the memory back farther. I thought about that night on the couch, with that curly-haired girl. That night when I first heard about the Kinda Things. Who had she been? We’d talked all night. We’d made out, but I couldn’t remember her name. Did I ever see her again? And there were a couple of things that didn’t add up. Had she known anyone at the party? Why was she the only girl there? Why didn’t we exchange numbers? My thoughts spiraled as I started to question every step along my path. You are what you do, and if all you’ve done can be called into question, you start to feel like nothing. I fell to my knees. It didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt. It was like floating in a world that forgot to pull you down. I would sometimes find myself inches above the ground, having to stretch my toes down just to feel something solid. After a while, I lost that too. But I kept my mind on that teddy bear. I pushed past the fractal images I’d built in my mind. The red, the blue, the gray, the black. The lime and mango eyes. If you looked past all of it, there were certainties that never changed. It had two eyes. Two legs. Two arms, and a heart on its chest. That was always there. That was certain. I repeated it like a mantra. Two eyes. Two legs. Two arms, and a heart. Two eyes. Two legs. Two arms, and a heart. Something was happening. The ground came back. There was a light. Were they distant lamps, pieces of wallpaper, or lonely stars? It was a night sky. I recognized some of the constellations. I spun around, pointing out patterns I recognized. I spun on my heel, excited to feel something solid beneath me. Two eyes. Two legs. Two arms, and a heart. As I came around the second spin, my entire field of view was absorbed. Something astronomically large. Impossibly large. A planet-sized eye, so unfathomable that it couldn’t be considered a thing, or a place. It just was. An eye. The word rattled in my mind like a panicked bird in a cage, screaming at me, over and over. An eye. It was an eye. It repeated to the point where it turned from thing, to word, to noise. An eye. An eye. A Nai. A Nai. A Nai. I shut my eyes and imagined the teddy bear keyring in my hands. I imagined the texture. I decided I would have to commit to a truth that I knew to be true. I had to force myself to be certain. I decided it was blue, with red details. That’s how I remembered it from that first night, and that’s what it had to be. Blue, with red details, and lemon eyes. Looking up, I could see dozens of coffee tables in random patterns. All covered in teddy bear keychains of various shapes and patterns and colors. All the while, something so large that the universe itself looked like the dark of its eye bore down on me from every angle. It didn’t need to say anything, I knew what had to be done. It wanted a choice. A certainty. I had to show it the right Kinda Thing. I have no idea how long I wandered that void, poking and prodding at those little keychains. One was darker blue with yellow lining. One was almost green. Every color combination imaginable, in every angle. The eye was patient. I had to be right. I don’t know how long it took me, but I found myself holding something. I held it up, and looked at it. I knew it was the right one before I even noticed the colors. Maybe it became the right one just by believing it to be. That’s when it hit me; it didn’t matter. The original color was gone. There was no point in trying to restore an idea or thought that had passed from memory. I decided then and there that I would make this something it had never been. I rolled the keychain between my fingers and opened my eyes. My hand was on the wall as the lights flicked back on. I was covered in sweat. All the items from the Kinda Things box were still neatly lined up on the coffee table. Even the frog, with the cigarette. The mint green walls were there. The window. The curtains. The closet. And when my shaking hand touched the door handle, it effortlessly swung outward. I cried with relief and crawled out, ending up in the hallway, clutching my teddy bear keychain. The next day, that whole box of items went straight in the trash. I stopped talking about the Kinda Things in my lectures. I made up this other thing about humpback whales and their patterns, but it wasn’t nearly as effective. People like talking about their own Kinda Things, and their own ideas relating to it. I still hear people talking about it on campus to this day, despite not mentioning it for about three years. I have photographed and documented everything about that teddy bear a hundred times over, and it hasn’t changed since. I know it better than the color of my mother’s eyes. It’s my one anchor binding me to this place. I could never go without it. I still get uncertain sometimes. I think when you cluster so many Kinda Things, it triggers a kind of chain reaction. If you just have the one, I don’t think they do that much. You might just make the occasional mistake when trying to remember them. I think what I went through was a result of a cluster impression over a prolonged period of time. I don’t ask people that strange question anymore. I don’t want to invite them into something they can’t prepare for. But if you were to look for a Kinda Thing on your own, do so in a way that destroys it. Photograph it. Keep it close. Remember it. If you keep it in the periphery, it may just drag you out there with it. I’ve heard so many ideas on what they are, and why they function this way. Some say that it’s demons touching things that we forget to care for. Others say that it’s ghostly possession. I heard one student claiming they are lost souls, looking for solace in places they won’t be disturbed. I don’t know. I don’t think anyone will ever know for sure. It’s the nature of Kinda Things to never truly be known. But as long as I have that one thing to keep me grounded, I’ll be fine. Maybe there’ll be the occasional Kinda Thing in my life going forward, but at least I will know not to collect them. For now, I’ll keep my keychain close, and look to things I know for certain. Two eyes. Two legs. Two arms, and a heart. My all-red teddy bear keychain, with coal-black eyes. submitted by /u/Saturdead to r/nosleep [link] [comments]

I am NOT OOP, OOP is u/Ok_Boysenberry_7535 Originally posted to r/AmIOverreacting Previous BoRUs: #1, #2, #3 [New Update]: AIO? My coworker took video of me outside of work to "prove" I'm not disabled NEW UPDATE MARKED WITH ---- Thanks to u/soayherder & u/queenlegolas for suggesting this BoRU Trigger Warnings: ableism, stalking, invasion of privacy, hostile workplace, racism, graphic description of panic attack Mood Spoilers: disturbing ---- Editor's note: removed older relevant comments for more space in this latest BoRU ---- RECAP Editor's note: CP in this post stands for Chronic Pain, not to be confused with cerebral palsy and child porn Original Post: January 14, 2026 This is weird so I need to know if I'm crazy for going as far as I did. I have a condition of chronic pain. The way I explain it to people without chronic pain is that if pain were on levels from 1 to 10, normal people are at most at a 2 or 3 from day to day where people with CP are at more like a 6. Like imagine stepping on a Lego or hitting your funny bone, that's a very brief but excruciating 8. It's like if you pulled a muscle and so there's pain and discomfort if you move it, but pretty much daily. Some days I am higher on the scale, rare blessed days I'm more a 4 or by some miracle lower. Overall I am active and operate well. I do own canes, but I only use them on days when I'm 7 or above. Such a day came this past Sunday. On top of my full time job, I have a part time. Due to being physically and legally disabled, I had all the paperwork already filed with my job in case I ever need accommodations. I have a handicap marker on my license plate and the placard on my rear view mirror and the works. I was recently moved to a location closer to my home. I love my new team. My boss Amy is really great. My colleague Casey and I get along okay but were the same position as assistant coordinators to Amy. The reason I was moved to that location was that it expanded and they needed more hands so they added me. Casey has wanted a promotion for a long time and everyone knows it. I was pretty open that I don't. Lol any promotion from my position would be a full-time and...I already have a full-time job. I do this job to pad my savings and because I frankly like the job. Being busy also helps with my anxiety. I mean Casey works hard but she also likes to talk over me or rush to take charge of something before I can when I clearly was getting to it. She then announces it. "Oh I handled that for you, OP. Don't worry!" And at first I was annoyed but over time I was like alright then, but you didn't have to. I talked to Amy about this. I want to pull my weight but it can be challenging and redundant when Casey is racing to beat me to it. The point was for us to split tasks evenly. Amy said she would talk to her and I don't know what came of that but things didn't really change much so I just accepted it. So when I came in Monday with my cane, everyone had questions. I emailed Amy Sunday night so she knew but I tend to be private so what I told everyone else was that I have a condition and sometimes I need a cane but not always. Amy accommodated me. She assigned me tasks that required little to no movement. I was very grateful and got everything done pretty early so I called over the radio if there was anything else I could do. Casey said no she's got it so I just handled admin stuff that's usually on the backburner. Literally replied with "okay I'll tackle the admin list then" and Casey said no she's got it but Amy followed that with a thank you to me and confirmation that this would be helpful. I still needed my cane yesterday (Tuesday) and it was similar. I completed most of the admin to-dos and Amy was so relieved to have it done. She thanked me for coming in and doing all that instead of calling out. Casey made a comment that she could've helped but I said that's okay and thanked her for handling the more physical tasks. We ended up walking to the parking lot together and she asked which car was mine so I pointed at it. Then she said "so I know you're not disabled, by the way." And I asked what she meant. She just repeated herself and said "so no cane tomorrow, okay? I won't tell. Just no cane tomorrow." 👀. I stood there like what the fuck? But I was meeting my best friend and just left to make it on time. I met my BFF Joy at the bar and we had a wonderful time. I brought my cane but tbh I didn't always use it. For example, I didn't use it to walk from my table to the bar to request another drink or when I got up to hug Joy goodbye. Today, when I woke up, my pain was higher than my normal so I took my cane along. I texted Amy that I have my cane but doing okay in small bursts so put me in Coach lol I was having a good time at my main job and didn't give Casey a thought. I arrive at my part time job and Casey saw my cane and went red. I mean like the way I looked when the Eagles lost to the 49ers lol just SUPER MAD. I greeted everyone and she ignored me completely. We got our assignments and she snidely said to me "Well can you handle that with your cane and all?" In a tone that even made Amy turn to look at her like WTF. I said I can manage and thanked her for her concern and we went about our work. Once again she raced to beat me to things and saying over the radio "don't strain yourself, OP, I did x-task or got y-done" I was so confused until about an hour ago when we finished work she again walked with me to the parking lot but this time showed me a video. It was me. It was me at the bar last night with Joy. I was just like...um why do you have a video of me - that's weird. She says it's proof. I asked of what? And she said it's proof I'm not disabled as I acted so "wounded all day at work" but suddenly don't need my cane at a bar. What???? I wanted to explain that that's just not how CP works. Like yes I can stand up to hug my friend or get up and walk 3 strides to order a new drink but I can't, for example, lean over and organize a bottom drawer without a chair to sit in. I wanted to explain the CP is just an umbrella and under it are a myriad of experiences and abilities and that honestly, if she had left my tasks alone, I'd have done them. She didn't give me the chance and said "no cane tomorrow. I'm serious. Or I'm going to Chad" (Chad is Amy's boss). I said "About what?" But she was already walking away from me and just got in her car. It's just weird. And oddly Chad would know this is bs because his boyfriend has CP too. I'm not so much worried about being "found out" or anything but it's just weird and I'm literally typing an email to Amy CCing Chad about this weird behavior because it's just odd. Am I crazy to want to preemptively explain this? I am anxious ans paranoid in general so I don't want to overreact or make things worse. Edit: I sent the email and also thanks for letting me know I'm not crazy for feeling weirded out. Also I will be simply blocking anyone who is saying this is fake. I don't have time for your bs to be frank. I also texted Amy and Chad. Edit 2: JESUS CHRYSLER DRIVING CHRIST that's a lot of notifications... I'll edit to try to reply all here because there isn't enough coffee in the world... It's morning and I'm still about at a 7 and it's cold today so even if I didn't want to bring my cane, I would have to. I texted ahead so Amy can start thinking about tasks today. For some common themes I've noticed, yeah my pain scale Lego idea wasn't on scale. Stepping on a Lego was the funniest thing I could think of that hurts so I wanted to paint a picture. I wasn't making a clinical pain chart lol feel free to use your own theatre of the mind scenarios to help people without chronic pain have an idea of what it's like. Also I don't understand the vague "don't use the term CP" comments sorry. In this post it means chronic pain. It's within that context 🤷‍♀️ sorry but I just don't get the issue here or of its upsetting...? Idk Amy and Chad have both responded so we will see how today goes. Anyway this was my first break in my FT job so I have to get back to it.   Update #1: January 15, 2026 (next day) AIO? My coworker took video of me outside of work to "prove" I'm not disabled - Update (Thursday) I was asked a lot to update when I got off work so here it is. 😬 Today was… weirdly quiet, which almost made it worse. Not sure what everyone knows but they at least know somethings up. I wasn’t even in the same area as Casey during check-in and I have no clue when she actually arrived. I usually see her as our shifts are the same hours. Turns out she’d been assigned to the back office doing other tasks (hours reduced), while I was put at the admin booth at the entrance handling paperwork and spreadsheets (they definitely took advantage of because I’m good at it 🤣). So we didn’t cross paths at all at first. I actually turned on a voice recorder app as soon as I got to work, just in case. I also added a shortcut on my phone so I can start recording quickly if I need to just in case. I didn’t wanna be caught off-guard like before. I did feel a little silly doing it, but I’d rather feel silly than unprepared, you know? I didn’t see Casey until near the end of the shift, and even then it was barely a glimpse. She looked up, saw me, and immediately turned away. Like full on avoidance. It made my stomach drop. I just turned away and minded my business. Amy was very reassuring but also vague at first. I didn't like that and I think my face said so and she said she doesn't like all the red tape and such either but to be patient because they need to go through all the right channels and steps. Amy let me go home early, but she told me to log my full hours anyway and made it clear she and Chad are actively talking about this and taking it seriously and I am almost certain she and he had been texting the whole shift. She also walked me to my car and said that will continue for now until everything is resolved. About an hour after my shift ended, I got an email from her (Chad CC'd) saying that tomorrow (Friday), Casey will be assigned to admin duty in the back office unless something changes before the shift, and that we should not be interacting at all. It's a long weekend so I figure all the behind the scenes stuff will be happening then. I also found out that Casey already “presented her evidence” That includes the video she showed me before and another video from yesterday (Wednesday). Apparently she filmed me at a local winery during Wine Wednesday (there’s a clip of me getting up to grab a bottle a few steps away, and later another clip of me standing up and doing a small little celebratory dance after a tabletop game win). That’s the part that really messed with my head because hold on when did she start recording me? For how long? I mean I could maybe believe coincidence once, like, okay lightning struck and its weird. Same town, same general area, blah blah blah. But twice, 2 different days??? Two different places?? That’s when it stopped feeling like my paranoia getting the best of me and started feeling… unsettling. I’m honestly starting to wonder if this is something that might need police involvement, as some comments suggested, and I hate that my brain even went there but I mean what other options are there right now?? I’m typing this from a bar right now, but not the same one as before thank god. It is still local to the school (teachers come here a lot) and it’s Thirsty Thursday, so there’s a bigger happy hour discount if you show your school ID. Joy is with me, and a couple other friends are on their way. Joy had been here during my shift in case I needed any backup fast. That said, my head is absolutely on a swivel. So is Joy’s. I don’t feel relaxed the way I normally would. I keep scanning the room without meaning to and when people get too close to me or stand in any way facing me I look up to see if it's her. It's fucking weird. I’m still trying to process all of this, and honestly I’m confused more than anything...I keep going back and forth between “maybe this is nothing” and “this doesn’t feel normal” Right now I’m just documenting everything and doing what HR tells me to do, but I don’t like how small and watched this situation is starting to feel and I hate that I'm recording every moment I can in case she pops up. If nothing else, I’m safe tonight and will be staying at Joy's...I’m not alone and work has made sure we’re separated for now. I guess we’ll see what tomorrow brings. So unless something crazy happens o won't be updating until this is resolved. Wish me luck 🙏. Edit: I just replied to a follow-up email answering some recurring questions HR asked... My answers al ended up centered around: I have never directly or indirectly invited Casey out anywhere. We are not friends outside of work and have never socialized one-on-one. I was also asked whether I feel safe at work. Right now, yes, because management has taken steps to separate us and has been present and supportive. I've yet to be alone at all at work. I’m continuing to follow their guidance and document everything as instructed. I’ll update if anything materially changes, but for now I’m letting HR handle it outside making a non-emergency police report in the morning.   Trigger Warnings: racism Final Update: January 23, 2026 (eight days later from the previous update) Hey on my phone so sorry for typos Happy Friday guys. Thanks so much for all the sweet messages checking on me. All things considered I'm okay. My pain spiked pretty badly this past Tuesday, so I took it easy and took off from my fulltime job to pamper myself. That gave me time to think and spend time gaming and gardening. That was a welcome break to brace myself for my part time job. So yes I have been taking care of myself and I loved all the reddit moms (and dads) checking in. This will be long as I am trying nit forget anything so I can close this out (or at least put a pin in it) as I know for me as a reddit scroller, unfinished stories are almost as frustrating as the ones that go on forever. I’m hoping this is my final update on the matter. Legal is now involved. I genuinely didn’t even know our organization even had a legal department but apparently it does and they’re looped in alongside HR. An HR rep has been communicating with me but honestly things have been very quiet on that front, which I’m taking as no news is good news. I’m still at my school and I still love it. I love the students and faculty and even the parents (anyone in education knows parents can be great or they can be soooooo not great lol and rarely is there in between). Casey has been transferred to an admin position at an office in the company I don’t even go to. I haven’t seen her since my last post and I'm glad of it. Work has been peaceful without her. I have more work to do now as the only assistant coordinator there but I'm starting to get my rhythm and the staff there has been very supportive plus I have more chances to get to know the people I work with. What I didn’t expect was finding out (from multiple coworkers in several conversations) was that almost from the moment I joined that campus, Casey had been trying to spread rumors about me. Including suggesting that I’m a danger to kids or that I have an “explosive temper” which is honestly wild to hear about myself. I’m almost always described by others as soft-spoken to a fault and usually get told I need to be more strict with students. If anything I balance Amy out as the “good cop” to her “bad cop” plus the angry black woman tropes are sooooo freaking tired, so it was extra annoying to find out that she was trying paint me as such. She also said to people that the reason she took over my tasks was because I did them wrong or Madd her job harder and she had to redo things. She basically had a narrative that I was Mr. Magoo causing chaos and she was the saintly hard working teammate trying to clean up my messes so I don't get in trouble. HR is still investigating, and I’ve been told to continue documenting anything that comes up. I’m ready to do so but so far it’s been quiet. One unexpected upside is I’m now the sole person at my campus with my title, which came with a pay raise. Not how I would’ve chosen to get it but I’ll take the win. I did file a police report - I think I mentioned this in my last post but if not I was told very clearly that filming in public places isn’t illegal and that there’s no reasonable expectation of privacy in those spaces, so there was no criminal action taken (cue my eyeroll but at least its officially reported). The report is strictly documentation. The local places I frequent have been made aware of the situation and that a report exists. My friends were incredible, they helped me get my car cleaned and detailed just to be absolutely sure there wasn’t anything like a tracker or Air tag like some comments suggested we do. I also finally got around to asking my neighbor to help me install my other security cams. I used to have only one and my doorbell cam and now I can pull up live footage on the whole system all around my house. And to those suggesting a dash cam, I already have one turns out. I never used that feature, so my friends helped. My car is fairly new and I’m still getting used to it. I did start to go over and backup all footage going back since I started at my campus by motion activation points and now have a hilarious compilation of the neighborhood cats being adorable or the crows I feed leaving random things lol (yes I did the crow mom thing). So another good thing came of this. I’m not changing my routines... but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still a little on edge. Especially since multiple coworkers mentioned hearing Casey blow up at Amy on her last day on campus and Amy sent her home for the day (this was on my day off as only Amy and Casey worked MLK day and the coworkers there volunteered to work the holiday for extra pay - time and a half). What she said varies depending on who tells it, but the fact that it happened at all doesn’t exactly make me feel warm and fuzzy as I'm sure you'll understand. But I tell myself everything that can be done on my end, has been done. So I try not to stress about it. That said, I also reached out to a few lawyers just to understand my options. I’m very aware that HR exists to protect the company not me so I want to cover my bases. I meet one over Zoom at my lunch break so wish me luck. I still record when I walk to or from my car. My therapist reminded me to be careful to make sure my being proactive doesn’t turn into living in fear and giving in to my anxiety or PTSD (past trauma). I’m taking that seriously as my mental health has been a journey and I don't want to go back to the way I was before. I can’t and won’t let someone else shrink my life again. I do want to address recurring comments because I can’t reply to everyone individually.. "She goes to bars a lot - drinking is bad!" Yes, I go to bars. No, that does not mean I drink heavily or have a drinking problem (what a leap!). I mean, look I’m disabled and I socialize within what my body allows and thats an isolating enough experience if I let it be. My friends (mostly able-bodied people) go to bars, so sometimes that’s where I go... Sometimes I drink, sometimes I don’t...sometimes it’s a mocktail, sometimes it’s soda. I know my body better than strangers on the internet, to be blunt. For what it’s worth, my ex was an alcoholic and he was abusive and spiraled until it ended him so I promise I’m very aware of what that looks like and am probably one of the last people to be overly concerned about on that matter. "How does she have time to work 2 Jobs and go out? Why wont she just go home" I do in fact have time to go out after work. I work from home full-time and part-time with the school. If I go straight home after a long day I tend to just… keep working. I’m a workaholic by nature and going out helps me actually relax and not make my entire life about my job. I also intentionally line up PTO with most school holidays to rest and take staycations. This is me managing my health both physical and mental not avoiding reality. "Don't go anywhere alone, OP"/concerns for my safety Right now I’m both safe and supported. I’m cautious but I’m still living my life. q I’m choosing not to let this take over my entire world and this is supported by my therapist. Thank you to the people who offered thoughtful advice and genuine concern ❤️ And to the folks who were weirdly judgmental....well, you must be an absolute blast at parties. I’m hoping this is my final Update Edit: the Ice storm woke me up and looked at my phone - Joy and my other friends have a group chat and I think they forgot which chat I’m on with them because they've been trading screenshots of Casey's social media. From what they gathered, Casey did put some of her socials on private in the past day or so but that didn't stop my friends from screenshotting some disturbing posts. In short, Casey has bought into the stereotype that black women especially "steal from the government" by leaning on welfare (such an age old and tired racist trope yet again) and other government programs and this included "faking" disabilities to "rip off" public programs because we clearly don't want to work /s I did just forward this all on to the HR rep I am in contact with. Turns outs, this probably wasn't about my cane after all. Just plain flavored, canned racism without salt. Frankly how boring is that in my country 😴. Edit 2: Joy I'd over with homemade Chili and news. No idea what to make of it but Casey is related to a higher up. Looks like a uncle/Neice. That could be another reason legal is involved but we're guessing at this point.   Editor’s note: Below is the last post we were left off Former coworker filmed me, was fired, and now I’m getting racist notes/messages. what can I actually do?: January 29, 2026 (six days later from the previous date Hi, I’m in Texas and honestly just trying to understand what options I have at this point because this seems to just be escalating and I feel like I’m not getting the help I need. I posted previously in another sub, but things have escalated and people suggested I come here? To summarize...I work full-time from home and part-time at a school. A coworker at said partime job (who on reddit I’ve been calling Casey) secretly took videos of me outside of work to try to “prove” I was faking a disability. I reported this to HR first. Legal eventually got involved. She was put on an admin break, then moved to a different office, and as of this week I was told she’s been finally terminated. She has a relative (her stepfather) who works 2nd tier only to our Director, and he's also reached out to apologize stating that she is struggling financially and is a hard worker and thus was very stressed about getting a better paying position. I can copy and paste it below if needed. There were snow days during part of this (Texas winter storms), so there was a gap where no one was on campus. I was told this delayed me from even logging on to my company email and seeing this info. What’s happening now is that since she was fired, some really unsettling things have started around the same time. For example on Tuesday the 27th, I found a handwritten note placed on my car while it was parked outside my home. It included a racial slur (“n-b*tch”) and calling em selfish. I quickly checked with neighbors on either side and I was the only one who got a note. I checked my dash cam and moved a camera on my home to cover the area going forward. The footage from my dash only shows someone bundled up approaching the car, but no identifying details. As their face was covered and they were wearing like ski looking goggles. Wednesday night the 28th,, I went to trivia night with a friend who drove us in her vehicle (she had "snow tires" on her vehicle and though the roads in our area were pretty clear we wanted to be cautious). When we came back to her car, there was another note with similar language left on her car! We went back and asked for footage but they said they didn't have cameras that worked out there. No damage to either car and we did double check during daylight just in case. I’ve also started getting texts from unknown numbers beginning Monday that are hateful or at least pretty scary. I haven’t replied to any of them. I’ve muted the numbers (in case they text again) and saved screenshots for the police...I reported both note incidents and the messages. I was told that filming in public isn’t illegal..leaving a note without damaging property isn’t a crime, and the messages aren’t "actionable" unless they escalate??? They did take reports and told me to keep documenting which I fully intend to do. Casey no longer works for the company. HR/legal are aware of the original situation. I’m documenting everything (dates, screenshots, photos). I have cameras and a dash cam. I’m not fully changing my routines, but I am being cautious. I think that's pretty much everything...but ask me questions if needed and I will answer. So my questions are: 1) At what point does this become harassment or stalking under Texas law? 2) Is there anything proactive I should be doing now besides documenting? 3) Would a cease and desist make sense, or could that backfire? 4) Is there any civil option here, or is this realistically just “wait and see unless it escalates”? I’m not trying to overreact...but the pattern is starting to freak me out and I want to make sure I’m handling this the right way and get the help I need to make this stop. I am almost certain it's Casey but without proof I'm not able to get any traction with the cops. Thanks in advance Location: TX   ----NEW UPDATE---- Trigger Warnings: graphic description of panic attack Update #2: February 12, 2026 (two weeks later from the previous post) So this was canceled by mods on the sub and I respect that so here is the post for any who care: I'm so sorry I honestly thought my last update was the end but things just keep happening and at this point, reddit is my little safe space. I am at my friends home drinking her wine and lounging in her guest room safe and not alone. I am safe. Thank you everyone who have been asking/checking in on me. I'm ok. Promise. Just stressed. My life has pretty much become a cartoon, I swear lol and I've become that weirdo who now makes jokes that ride the line of funny and not appropriate but my jokes are about me so I'm giving myself space. The morning I found the Air Tag in the inside pocket of my cardigan, I went straight to the police. They took it as evidence immediately and for the first time it felt I was being taken seriously. I don’t know the technical details of what happens next, but I was told it was fucking active and they would pursue the account information attached to it. So yay they're taking this more seriously meets Christ almighty this is so fucking serious. And cue my brain just failing to cope. I had what I was told later to be a panic attack. It was unlike any I've had before. For one, I gained a stutter, and I fully believed it was a heart attack and not a panic attack because my heart felt like it was about to come out of my damn chest. I sat down and my lungs were on fire. It was hell. A few restless days later, I was informed that Casey had been confronted by police. I don’t know what was said during that interaction and I haven’t been given many details, but my lawyer said that same evening she was arrested for Public Intoxication and Resisting Arrest. Those charges are public record. I’m not celebrating that in a petty sense but practical. It just confirmed for me that the instability I was feeling around this situation wasn’t imagined and that unfortunately, right now, her being held by police meant I was safe. It was the first night since this all happened that I was able to sleep Since that arrest...no notes left anywhere I've found and not texts. Only her relative who works upper management above me who emailed me and said he was sorry this was happening, but it was worded in a way that didn't really say sorry for what she did to me. It was frustrating and political and I just would have preferred he say nothing at all. I didn't respond. I just forwarded to my lawyer. There hasn’t been any further direct contact. However, something else came to light that forced me to take additional precautions because of course OF COURSE it is never that simple. Earlier on when I first started there, I had briefly misplaced my keys at work - I was told a student found them and brought them to the office and told they were kind (I have a Totoro charm and a Sailor Venus charm on mine). I was told just recently that a male office staff member handed them to Casey because she claimed she was picking them up for me. I was never informed of that at the time as Amy ultimately handed me my keys. There is no proof she copied them. But there is no proof she didn’t...and I now live in the better safe than sorry camp. Given everything that has happened, I can’t ignore the possibility. I’m now changing all of my locks. It’s expensive and frustrating, but I don’t want to live with uncertainty about who has access to my home especially people who are unhinged enough to stalk me. I've been sent enough horror stories. They live rent free in my brain now. So no, I have no intention of being an episode on a show on Investigation Discovery. My employer has placed me on paid leave until after spring break while everything is sorted out per HR literally this past Monday. I didn’t request it, but I understand the reasoning and am glad of it. They framed it as a safety and liability measure while legal processes continue. Like. Say less. Plus it's no questions asked full scheduled hours pay and my main job is WFH so I've barely left my friend's place. She mainly works from home too and we've just been watching My Hero Academia and Komi Can't Communicate until we run out of episodes and drinking wine at the end of our work hours. She also showed me how to play Dragon Age and Elder Scrolls. In return since she won't accept money for rent I've been cooking more. I'm actually a bit good, and she's a huge foodie. So we've gotten down cookbooks from her shelves and have been picking our favorites. Last night I made calzones, tonight I'm here on reddit while waiting for my timer after the chicken marinates to make fried chicken and mash potatoes with homemade gravy. I’m less scared than I was two weeks ago and focusing on things like this and my plans for after. Meanwhile I actually have gotten texts of photos of the students holding banners and cards hoping I come back soon and it does feel nice. Finding the Air Tag was the turning point for me and really sent me into a tizzy. But on the bright (?) Side It made the situation concrete instead of speculative and police took me seriously. I’m still documenting everything and working with my lawyer. I’m taking this one step at a time. So while I think this for the sake of this "saga" on this forum is concluded I will just update on my own account on this if I do at all. For now, I’m resting. I’m trying to let my nervous system calm down after weeks of being on edge and my therapist said that the cooking, the anime marathons, the binging "Is it cake?" At night is all good. I guess I need to level out still before being back to my old normal or...maybe a new equivalent normal. Idk. I truly hope this is the final update overall. But thank you for the support. It meant and means a lot. It helps when oth3rs tell you that you're not crazy. Hope your valentine's days are full of love.   DO NOT COMMENT IN LINKED POSTS OR MESSAGE OOPs – BoRU Rule #7 THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT OOP submitted by /u/Choice_Evidence1983 to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

Meet Leo, my CDS buddy I took in around May 2024. I've never spent much time around a cat before Leo. I grew up in more of a dog-owning family. But I'd see this one hanging around on a sunny hill outside my window, or sheltering from storms in my garden shed, and eventually I decided to break the ice with an offering of my dog's kibble and a bowl of clean water. After that, he started showing himself more and more often. I'd go sit out there with him and let him get used to my presence... and in a matter of weeks, he was perfectly at ease. Even let me rub his belly. Sometimes I'd come out there and towel him off after it rained, or pick the burrs out of his fur when he came out of the woods. Then came one stormy night. He didn't shelter under his usual fallen tree or in the shed, and instead sat there shivering under the eaves of my roof. I was stoned and I got very emotional about it, so I picked him up and locked him in my basement once and for all. He was real upset about that for a while. Spent almost a week meowing at the sliding door, sounding sadder every time, or hiding under furniture. He was never anything but friendly, though. Just upset. I took him to the vet to discover he was not a female, but instead a neutered male of eight-ish years. With asthma that I suspect may have something to do with the fiberglass insulation the previous tenants taped around a cat carrier they left behind. If they did expose this absolute sweetheart to fiberglass and then abandon him, I hate them way more than I already do for all the junk mail I still get for them. And for stealing my grandmother's curtains from this house, but that's getting off topic. During those first months, I spent as much time as I could in the basement with Leo to get him acclimated. I learned a lot about him, and cats in general, during that time. He's no fan of playing with toys or climbing on things. The only time he really "plays" is to rip up any paper left on the floor. He mostly just likes to lounge on chairs and beds... which is fine by me, even though I bought him that expensive cat tower he never used. I also found that he's a total cuddlebug. He'll never pass up an opportunity to get on my lap or sleep on my chest at night. I even had to buy a little set of pet stairs so he'd stop clawing the sheets on his way up onto the bed. There were a few expensive incidents early on. For one, he tore a skin tag off his shoulder and developed an abscess. Then there was his UTI, and the enema the vet had to give him. Those visits were so rough for him that my vet's office now recognizes him by his distinctive "let me out" yowl. But he got through all that, and the love and care he needed along the way helped us bond more than anything. He's been very happy and healthy since then. Nowadays, he can't get enough company. My scrappy old rescue dog stopped trying to attack him eventually, so now he hangs out upstairs where everyone else is. The basement remains his private domain, but he spends most of the day curled up on a backpack he's taken a liking to in my home office's closet. (Dunno why but he really likes nylon.) He's got as much physical affection to show me as any dog I've had before, and that's saying something. Dude loves me to no end. submitted by /u/LesserChimera to r/CatDistributionSystem [link] [comments]

First | Previous | Next Patreon | Official Subreddit | Series Wiki | Royal Road The Nexus. Just outside of the South-Eastern edge of the North Rythian Forests. Local Time: 1700 Hours. Emma [‘QUEST’ Time Elapsed: 76 Hours. Time Remaining: 92 Hours] [SURVEY PROGRESS… 12.5%. Estimated Time to Completion… 21 Hours. Data Fidelity: Nominal. Network Integrity: Stable. Primary Objective… Pending.] [Crystal Shards… Not found.] [AMETHYST DRAGON… Not found.] “Welp. Progress is progress. But as long as we keep up this pace, we should be on schedule.” I let out a tired sigh, gesturing to a screen that had once again caught Thalmin off guard. Though it wasn’t as if he was still in awe of either the screen itself or battlenet, nor was he surprised by the disappointing lack of progress, no. In fact, this squint… was a reaction I was used to seeing from both friends and family back home. It was a squint of judgement — whether by intention or biological reflexes — at the horrors of my personal preferences. Or to put it more accurately, at a certain screen setting that seemed to be the source of so many grievances — light mode. I’d practically flashbanged Thalmin, because unlike the brightness of the day, the growing evening had since sensitized his eyes to the dark. “I much prefer it when the ink itself is what glows against the natural tones of the parchment.” He mumbled out, my eyes narrowing at the allusions to the existence of a magical dark mode. “I don’t know how you humans do it, though I do know of more than a handful of species who have quite a natural inclination towards the light…” He muttered that latter line out in much the same way he did with the rest of his inside jokes; a trend that I was slowly learning to brush off. “In any case, we should be done with a full sweep of the forest by 1400 hours tomorrow. After which, we’ll have enough intel to dictate our next course of action. Hopefully we’ll find a stray shard by then, but if not… just under two days should be enough to snipe the dragon, no?” “We’d have to track it first, Emma.” Thalmin responded with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. But that’s what battlenet is for! We have eyes in the sky looking not just at the ground, but the airspace above—” [PRIORITY ALERT! MULTIPLE AERIAL CONTACTS ENTERING THE AO. APPROACH VECTOR CONFIRMED: GRID SECTOR A-1-4-D; NORTHWEST QUADRANT!] My eyes lit up, as did Thalmin’s. All prior thoughts took a backseat to protocol, as operational algorithms drilled into me during drone operator training were immediately brought to the forefront. “Active camo and evasive flight paths, now.” [Acknowledged.] “Defer active ops and initiate threat-range scans.” [Acknowledged. Instructions relayed. Network Integrity: Stable. Redirecting assets. Standby…] The map shifted as the game changed in a matter of seconds. The familiar top-down perspective of the forest was promptly replaced by a panoramic view of the skies immediately in front of the drones, as individual status readouts, flight paths, and flight instrument indicators came to join the collage of tactical displays that had Thalmin’s eyes darting left and right. I couldn’t blame him, though. I had the same reaction despite the false confidence mil-sim titles had instilled in me. That’s why drone operator training took a sizable chunk of basic. The role of Swarm Queen wasn’t inherited but earned. Owing in no small part to the tried and true grind of experience, forged through the accumulation of FPV and C&C hours. The rest was good, old-fashioned neural plasticity, allowing one to get used to perceiving the world beyond the restriction of one’s own two eyes. [Fleet Redirection… complete. New flight paths… mapped. Network Integrity: Stable. Awaiting Orders.] “QSR: Identify contacts.” [Collating… Processing… Confirming… 3 Large Contacts… 12 Light Contacts accompanying in formation.] [TRACK ID: Winged Heavy 1-1, 1-2, 1-3] [TRACK ID: Winged Light 2-1 through 2-12.] “QSR: Signature profile.” [Visual: Winged Heavy 1-1, 1-2, 1-3, inconsistent with AMETHYST DRAGON and other recorded flight-capable species in the WORKING SPECIES REGISTRY. Winged Light 2-1 through 2-12 consistent with Local Aerial Asset: ‘DRAKE RIDER’.] [Thermal: Elevated, inconsistent with known aircraft. Consistent with local mounted air asset analogues.] [Mass/Volume: Large Contacts approx. 5 - 10 metric tons. Smaller Contacts approx. 400 - 700 kilograms.] [Payload: Underbelly Stowage Compartments Noted on Large Contacts. Repositioning for better analysis. Standby… Parsing… Updating visual feed… Analyzing… Design and configuration congruent with cargo/passenger cabins. Summary: Potential personnel and/or equipment transport.] “QSR: Tactical Profile.” [Unable to parse… Insufficient contextual data. Profile is beneath acceptable inference limits.] “QSR: Visual Tactical Readout.” [Winged Light 2-1 through 2-12. Ranged Air-to-Air Assets: > 24 Spears; Ammo Count: 24. > 12 Bows; Ammo Count: Variable, approx. 30. > Melee Arms: 12 Swords. > Armor: Plate Steel. ADDENDUM: Possibly augmented with exotic mana-materials and radiation. Capabilities unknown.] “Maintain current instructions. Continue monitoring.” [Acknowledged.] “Live feed readout. I want to see where this goes.” [Acknowledged.] Our eyes remained glued to the screen as the situation developed surprisingly quickly. The three large contacts simply dropped off their wood-and-steel-reinforced ‘cabins,’ unlatching leather and steel straps before departing without much fanfare. Meanwhile, 8 of the 12 drake riders departed soon after, acting as escorts for their large but lumbering cousins. The initial shock and preliminary concern that hit us eventually died down, especially as the remaining drake riders landed on the forest floor, taking up ‘resting’ positions with their wings flared and their heads tucked. Their two legs eventually folded in on themselves as well, giving them a sort of ‘loaf-like’ shape once their wings too were nestled beneath them. “Must be another group of adventurers.” I offered. “Sym did mention how he encountered a few dead parties in the forest.” “No. These must be men-at-arms, or a proper mercenary company at the very least. No adventurer, no matter how ostentatious, would ever in their right mind charter a greater drake.” Thalmin countered. “Right. Well… that might complicate things then.” I acknowledged with a sigh. “I don’t see anyone resembling a proper noble in the camp, though.” Thalmin offered, as he gestured for me to zoom in on several people down beneath the canopy. “There may be one from the looks of it. But I highly doubt that. No Nexian noble would oversee an operation of a diminutive scale. I’d wager this quest is being led by a few chosen ones, if not more.” The prince shrugged. “Either way, what this means for us is simple — expect slow progress on behalf of these interlopers. But given their numbers and outfitting, we shouldn’t leave anything to chance. You said we had 21 more hours until the forest is fully surveyed, correct?” “Yeah.” I nodded. “Then this changes nothing. Just make haste if you can, Emma. If we are to initiate ‘Plan B,’ as you call it, then we must act swiftly. We cannot allow these interlopers to take the dragon before we can extract what we need from it.” “Right. Okay. I’ll get the drones back in their original flight paths. Though if those drakes ever take flight again, I will have to reconfigure them to more evasive flight patterns, if only to avoid detection.” “Understandable.” Thalmin nodded. However, before he could move on, a question suddenly spawned. “Before—” “I’d like to—” Or more accurately, two questions simultaneously, as the both of us spoke at more or less exactly the same time. Thalmin “You go first.” Emma urged. “This may be a bit of a tangent, so I’d suggest you go first, Emma.” I countered politely. “Trust me, mine’s a tangent as well, so—” “To avoid an endless loop, I will take that offer.” I interjected with a harsh breath, before gesturing to the tablet in front of us. “That entire… exchange. Between your commands and the messages on your artifices, is this how you typically communicate between you and your swarm?” “Yeah.” Emma nodded. “Remember how I changed the scenery in the ZNK-19? This is more or less the same concept, just scaled up.” I narrowed my eyes, pondering a response as I once more leaned into the manaless window. A window… into the eyes and ears of what was frankly a swarm. Thoughts upon thoughts abounded one atop the other, with practical concerns clashing against the shore of intrigue, eroding what was already firm suspicion into outright conspiracy about the nature of Earthrealm. Or more accurately, the nature of their military capabilities. However, in spite of everything, all I allowed out of my mouth was a simple acknowledgement. “I see.” Instead, I took a moment to pause, to ponder, as I watched through the looking glass at the world through the eyes of a swarm queen. Each ‘perspective’ was composited — a mosaic of sights that resembled the world as seen through the eyes of bees, wasps, and any number of oddly eyed insects, their vision as alien as the manaless artifice through which it was relayed. I let out another breath before shifting my perspective back to Emma. “I simply feel the need to ask, as the abilities displayed here seem… seamless, practiced, rehearsed, and dare I say it, second nature. This wasn’t a simple command relayed to a static sightseer. This was the direct control of multiple manaless golems, as seamlessly as if they were an extension of yourself.” “Yeah, well, that’s because it kind of is! As in, mental adaptability is something that’s useful for us. You put someone in charge of a bunch of far-seers in a building, and they eventually come to ‘feel’ as if the building itself is an extension of them, you know? Same goes for helmsmen and ships, pilots and aircraft, and so on and so forth. Drone operators — i.e. most frontline personnel — are trained similarly. We have to integrate seamlessly into battlenet, because a second’s hesitation or delay might be what makes or breaks an engagement.” I took a moment to ponder that, to truly examine the seemingly spiritual connection between the human and their constructs. In a sense, it wasn’t unlike the bond between myself and Emberstride, or the soulstitched or soulbound bonds in many other battlemages, warriors, and knights. Yet as similar as it was, there was still… an unnerving alienness to it. Whatever the case was, I simply acknowledged the swarm queen’s sentiments with a nod before throwing the proverbial talking stick back to her court. “Your turn.” Emma “So, you mentioned chosen ones. I’ve heard this term thrown around a lot, especially at the adventuring guild. But no one’s really… explained it to me. So I've just kinda been going off of context clues and what we’ve learned about gifted commoners so far. Are chosen ones just another, more ‘fancier’ way of saying ‘gifted commoners’ or…?” “Correct, Emma.” Thalmin nodded. “Although, the term ‘chosen one’ is more often synonymous with gifted commoners who enter more martial paths. As opposed to, say, our elf server in the grand dining hall who’s only committed to using his magic for parlor tricks.” “How big of a threat are we talking about here? Because up to this point, I’ve only gone up against mages in challenges and whatnot. A proper fight is something I’ve only encountered once with Mal’tory and that was—” Thalmin snickered, stopping me in my tracks. “What’s so funny?” “If you survived an encounter with a Black-Robed Professor, I doubt you’ll have any issues against a mere Chosen One, Emma.” Thalmin bellowed out confidently, patting me on the shoulder. “Though, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be on our toes, of course. I’ve met many a chosen one who punched well above their weight class — using enchanted weapons and tools as crutch for their magical limitations, seamlessly integrating with them. To the point where the typical commoner might even mistake them for a mage at first glance. Though, typically, once you see a chosen one in action, you’ll know exactly what to expect. Since in the same vein that gifted commoners are ‘gifted’ with a single narrow sliver of magical acumen, so too are chosen ones confined to a very small sliver of magical potential.” “Right.” I nodded, my mind racing through the implications of this newfound intel. “Just so we’re on the same page, supposing there’s a guy who’s able to do fire magic, he’d more or less be locked to just fire magic, right?” “That’s simplifying the matter, but for our purposes, you’ve struck the kobold on the head there, Emma. There are, however, always exceptions to the rule. Such is the case with the jack-of-all-trades. But those are exceptionally rare, and usually only seen in illegitimate offspring between nobles and commoners.” The prince explained bluntly. “Even then, these individuals are still very much orders of magnitude weaker than true mages, but I digress. Suffice it to say, Emma, we’ll be fine.” Thalmin beamed, thumping his chest. “Look who you’ve partnered with, after all.” “Yeah, fair enough, my mercenary prince.” I chuckled. The next few moments were finally punctuated by silence as we watched the camp grow tent by tent. The drones counted at least a hundred or so contacts, and as dusk fully settled, quite a few peculiarities popped up. Most notable among these was the erection of some sort of altar at least half a click from the camp, with offerings wrapped in parchment carefully placed on each pedestal. “Erm… care to fill me in on that, Thalmin?” I pointed. “Oh, that’s just an offering, Emma.” The prince explained casually. To which I could only respond with an accentuated cock of my head. “Elaborate.” “An offering to placate the forest itself, Emma. To ward off potential… negative reactions to what could otherwise be perceived as an incursion of its territory.” I blinked rapidly, cocking my head. “Is that an actual thing, or a superstition?” “You’ve interacted with the forest face-to-face with one of its avatars, have you not, Emma?” The prince countered, as it took a second for my mind to finally register what the prince was getting at. “OH RIGHT! THE WEREBEAST!” I attempted to snap my fingers, only to elicit an unsatisfying motion that puzzled the lupinor. “Right, yeah, I remember now. So that actually was the forest talking through it, then? It never occurred to me to follow up on that, thinking it was just like, the werebeast being all high and mighty about himself.” “The werebeast might’ve merely been the most convenient enforcer at the time, I suppose. Though I can’t say for certain. Frankly, a forest is often an enigmatic force of nature unto itself. With some primitive cultures even going so far as to consider them gods of sorts.” Thalmin shrugged. “Though, given His Eternal Majesty refused to consume them — instead forging some sort of an alliance or some such — I doubt they’re anywhere near the level of deities.” “So what can we expect from the forest?” I immediately shot back, my mind still very much stuck in rapid response and assessment mode. “Are we looking at, like… an immune reaction or something? Vines and tendrils shooting up, moss to consume us whole, sinkholes forming, and slime creatures attacking?” “We’re not facing a druid, Emma.” Thalmin responded with a hefty chuckle. “If anything, we have no need to worry given the makeup of our current party. Forests typically do not target small groups, so long as they do not actively seek out their destruction. Moreover, with you being effectively lifeless in its eyes, there’s even less chance of it targeting us. Indeed, the presence of a far larger, more unsightly group in its Northwest region, will take up much of its attention.” I narrowed my eyes at Thalmin, crossing my arms to make up for the lack of facial expression to convey a certain level of doubt in the prince’s claims. “So… burning a good few acres of forest doesn’t count as actively seeking out its destruction, huh?” I chuckled darkly, alluding to a certain fight against a vorpal chimera. The prince surprisingly didn’t immediately counter this with an excuse or a loophole. Instead, he let out a nervous chuckle, a sly grin forming on his face in short order. “Heh, well… you could say I overlooked the potential consequences of my actions in the heat of the moment.” I placed a hand on the prince’s shoulder, gripping it tightly. “Spoken like a true orbital ordnance officer.” The prince’s brows quirked at this, possibly at the EVI’s attempts to translate the joke, but I counted it as fair game given the inside jokes he’d been leveling at me for the past week. Things wound down after a few more back-and-forths, our eyes still very much monitoring the situation over in the camp from above, until we finally noticed something else that caught our attention. “Huh. That’s a heck of a lot of cheese.” I noted. “I guess they had a run-in with our new friend.” Thalmin smiled brightly. “He’s quite a salesman, so it stands to reason that he must’ve made quite an impression on our interlopers here. Probably sold most of his stock from the looks of it.” “Yeah! Honestly, good for him.” I beamed as I quickly patted the pouch that held the little notebook the kobold had gifted me. I can’t wait to see the upgrades to your cart and wares once we meet again. I thought brightly to myself. Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 29. Ilphius and Kamil’s Room. Local Time: 1730 Hours Ilphius “Kamil.” I announced firmly, making my presence known with a SLAM of the doors. “It’s time you came out of hiding.” … Yet no answer came. I let out a frustrated sigh, clenching my fists, before unleashing fury in the form of disruption, disorientation, and dispelling magics which would’ve caused even the most stoic of mages to lose their footing. The result was immediate. Though not in the way I’d expected. Yaaaawwwwwnnnnnnnn! A voice strained from within one of the corners of the room as the lazy layabout finally uncloaked, focusing his two beady eyes on me. “I’m guessing your second and final proposal with Lady Airit did not go as planned?” The coward spoke with a lizard-like lisp, as a smug, self-satisfied giggle colored his voice. “At least I had the courage and mental fortitude to take chances.” I rebutted. “At least I exist in the material world.” I continued as I leveled both ire and frustration firmly against the wayward noble. “Yes, yes. Exist you do. Perhaps you should allow me to return to my immaterial world then—” “Stop.” I urged, my voice colored not by desperation, but authority. This did the trick, as the barely present lizard reacted without a second’s hesitation. His instinctive response to authority, true authority, was laid bare to me. “Whilst Lady Airit may lack vision, playing things safe as her master tends to do, I am unwilling to let this opportunity slip us by. This is why I am reassessing the situation, and requesting your cooperation in enacting my plans.” I stated firmly, eliciting a disgusting and debased roll of the lizard’s tongue as he seemed to mock my occasional tongue-flared hiss. “I sssseeeee.” He responded jeeringly before stretching his arms and legs lazily in all directions. “Convince me.” “Excuse me?!” “You heard what I said: convince me. I have no horse in this race, Lady Ilphius. The worst you can do is to interrupt my sleep and scatter my belongings… but it isn’t as if you aren’t already doing that now, are you?” He chuckled derisively, causing my whole body to tense and burn from the inside out. “When my plan succeeds—” “If.” “No, when it does.” I seethed. “When it does succeed… I will be in a better position to retake the peer group’s throne from that wretched merchant. And when that time comes, I will make sure to elevate our group, to push us forward, and to place us in a position where we can challenge the earthrealmer’s group for a position in the house we were robbed of.” … “Sounds quite ambitious…” “Indeed it is.” I acknowledged. “And by ambitious I mean tiresome, Lady Ilphius.” The man yawned. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to do this on your own.” “I’ll unmask Teleos Lophime’s secret. I will uncover what it is he’s hiding in the healing wing.” I offered. “Hmm… now you’re speaking my language. Though you’ll have to give me more than just juicy drama to eat up.” Kamil chuckled darkly. “Coin.” I spat out. “Coin, you lazy, whiny, layabout—” “Carte blanche.” He countered. “Whatever spoils we may potentially earn from this escapade, yes.” I pushed forth a secondary counteroffer. To which the man finally relented with a long, drawn-out nod. “What’s your plan?” “I know there must be something that might incriminate the pair. That wretched and tainted avinor is most obviously a beacon of darkness. And the Vunerian? I’ve heard whispers of him slithering off to the libraries for some enigmatic purposes. Our task is to follow these two blighted beasts, and to determine once and for all what devious rule-breaking, or perhaps even law-breaking schemes they may be up to.” “Huh.” Kamil responded simply. “That’s easy enough.” “Indeed, and with your masterful camouflage skills, this will be even more—” “We’ll start tomorrow then. I’m tired from today’s classes.” He yawned once more. “No.” I seethed, grabbing him by the half-transparent arm. “We’re starting today.” The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. The Grand Dining Hall. Local Time: 2000 Hours Ilphius “Ahem.” Kamil interrupted, tugging at my uniform as he did so. “Are you certain the pair are up to anything—” “It’s just dinner, Kamil. Maybe if we trail them after this, we will see just what illicit activities they’re up to.” I intercepted the man’s concerns before he had a chance to fully voice them, as I continued eating, bite by agonizing bite, while maintaining a careful sentry on the pair. “You know you’re only resorting to such passive actions because without Lady Airit or Lady Ladona, you simply don’t have the power to go toe-to-toe against—” “Keep quiet!” Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Hallway. Local Time: 2200 Hours Ilphius “It’s curfew now. We have to go back.” “I was certain they’d have gone anywhere but back to their room! Are you sure we did not follow phantoms? Or maybe we might have missed their subtle exit through some other—” “Yes, I’m certain, Lady Ilphius. You’re talking to the master of camouflage here.” Kamil responded lazily. “Alright. We’ll just resume our sentry tomorrow.” “And if nothing comes of tomorrow?” He countered. “I have other avenues…” The Next Day The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. The Grand Dining Hall en Route to ???. Local Time: 0900 Hours Ilphius “Still nothing, Lady Ilphius.” “Patience, Kamil! Look! They’re leaving!” “And what makes you think they’re not just heading back to their dormitory?” “Because look—” I pointed urgently at their path. “—they’re taking the main stairwell this time around.” “Which means what exactly?” “They’re headed to the student lounge.” “Oh joy.” Kamil sighed quietly. The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Student Lounge. Local Time: 1200 Hours Ilphius “And I said, ‘Panned cakes! It should be called panned cakes! For the cakes were made in a pan.’ But my private chef, in their infinite stupidity, refuses to acknowledge this, pushing forth a narrative of pan-cakes instead! Tell me, my dear fellows, are the cakes not panned? For a cake to be a pan-cake, it should somehow resemble a pan or in some way—” “He’s been at this, on the speaker’s chair, for hours now, Lady Ilphius.” Kamil bemoaned. “Are you certain this is what you seek?” “No… but what of the avinor—” “She’s been silently reading a book, sipping tea and eating nuts, occasionally being interrupted by the freaks from the fourth nook only to be rebuked. I’ve kept my other eye on her this entire time.” “Patience. Patience, Kamil. We will have our evidence.” The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. En Route to the Library. Local Time: 1400 Hours. Ilphius “There it is, there it is! We must follow him!” I urged, as we both silently scouted our way forwards, ducking in illusory magics until the Vunerian had entered that most unholy of places. We waited for several minutes more until we made our move, walking across the bridge and then entering the den of unspeakable evils to continue our investigation. Yet upon entry, we were met not by the scurrying of the increasingly pale-blue Vunerian, or any sign of him whatsoever. Instead, what awaited us was a small fox that looked up at both of us expectantly. “State your business! Do you wish to browse or to trade?” The fox questioned before moving up to sniff at the both of us, as if our illusory magics weren’t even there. “Hmm… neither of you seem to have anything to trade. Rather stale, honestly.” “How dare you—” “I’ve heard it much before, yes yes. Grumble and grumble, moan and whine. Let’s skip to the end now, shall we? Are you here to browse or to trade?” We both looked at each other before nodding. “Kamil, you—” “I’ll browse, please.” The man sighed, eliciting a nod from the fox, who simply… vanished the moment I turned to look back. “I’ll keep an eye on the avinor. We’ll meet for dinner.” “Right.” The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. The Grand Dining Hall. Local Time: 1900 Hours Ilphius “Well look who finally decided to show up…” I hissed softly at an exhausted-looking Kamil. “Found anything?” “No. I barely got out of that impossible labyrinth!” He seethed. “The deal’s off, by the way. There’s nothing in it for me. The fun’s over.” He crossed his arms. “And I doubt you found anything interesting about the avinor either.” I moved to speak… but found that I had nothing at all to say. “No, I have not.” I stated plainly. “But I have one final plan to enact…” I offered, garnering the man’s attention. “...what is it this time?” “The pair, they are both here, are they not?” “Yes, they are. What of it?” “This makes for the perfect opportunity to… investigate their den of sin.” “You can’t be serious. You can’t just break into another dorm.” He countered. “Au contraire. I can… and I will. And whatever is in there… I shall have my spoils.” The Nexus. Southeastern Quadrant of the North Rythian Forests. Local Time: 1900 Hours. Emma The relative ‘downtime’ that was the past 26 hours felt a heck of a lot like the fulfillment of one of Aunty Ran’s sayings. A lot of war is a whole load of sitting around doing nothing. Except for the one percent of times where all hell breaks loose and you’re fighting within an inch of your life. You use that 99% to prepare for the 1%. Or at least that’s what they say. I just prayed that we wouldn’t experience the latter half of that anecdote. [‘QUEST’ Time Elapsed: 102 Hours. Time Remaining: 66 Hours] [SURVEY PROGRESS… 100%. Estimated time to Completion… 0 Hours. Data Fidelity: N/A. Network Integrity: N/A. Charging. Primary Objective… Pending.] [Fleet Status: Charging.] [Crystal Shards… Not found.] [AMETHYST DRAGON… Not found.] “Right, do you want the good news or the bad news, Thalmin?” “We’ve been sitting around waiting for your drones to do most of the work. Let’s at least get some good news, Emma.” The prince grumbled. “Right, well, good news! Our interloper friends have not detected our presence, nor our drones. That’s even with their Shatorealmer flying around. Also, the drakes seem to be in hibernate mode or something. They’ve only flown them once, though granted it knocked a good few hours off of our survey time.” “Okay… I’m assuming the bad news is that there’s no stray crystal shard.” Thalmin sighed out. “Correct.” I nodded. “Damnit.” Thalmin cursed. “Well then, it seems like we’ll just have to go dragon hunting now, won’t we?” He managed bravely under a nervous grin. “Once the drones are charged up, I’ll be redirecting survey efforts towards tracking down the amethyst dragon’s lair. Given we have the whole forest mapped out now, it shouldn’t be too long before we narrow down a list of POI’s—” [PRIORITY ALERT! MULTIPLE AERIAL CONTACTS ENTERING THE AO! RANGE… 1400 METERS!] My blood ran cold as I tapped Thalmin on the shoulder, shooting him a look which he could not interpret. Though I wouldn’t need to, because what happened next brought the man up to his feet. “AGHGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” As a bloodcurdling scream, followed by the unmistakable FWOOOOSH! of fire erupted about a click north of our position. We had only one drone in the air, but that’d have to do. “QSR: Identify contacts.” [Estimated Count: 1 Large Contact] [TRACK ID: AMETHYST DRAGON] I felt my stomach clench as my arm moved to activate the railgun. Though I only did so out of precaution— [Estimated Count: 2 Small Contacts] [TRACK ID: Winged Light 2-1, 2-2.] —because we weren’t alone in this engagement. We didn’t need to watch what was transpiring on the tablet, as the action was close enough that the light foliage of the canopy allowed for a near-unimpeded view of the skies. Two drake riders were attempting desperate sorties against the dragon, as they moved to corral, slash, and even ensnare the dragon with rope, netting, and just about everything but the kitchen sink. This was all in a desperate attempt to save their ground forces from the brunt of the dragon’s fury, as we saw a small group of elves, dwarves, satyrs, kobolds, and even baxi desperately attempting to flee from the dragon’s ire — away from the wall of flames that halted their advance. However, with every advance towards a potential exfil route, the dragon shot out another line of fire, corralling them towards a path of its own design. It was as if the dragon was doing this on purpose, as if it was actively playing with its prey, giving them a false sense of hope of escape… only to snip that thin thread of reprieve away with the unbridled fury of dragonflame. We both watched in silence as this group of mercenaries was eventually boxed in, their last exfil route completely bathed in flames, leaving them in a literal box of fire that only grew closer and closer, with no potential of being put out. Though it wasn’t as if they didn’t try. As one of them — a blue-robed satyr — attempted to spray down the flames with some healthy jets of water, all to the tune of some weak bursts of mana radiation. The dragon, noticing this, flew low and slow, almost hovering in front of the satyr. The bassy BOOMS of its wingbeats shook the air, accelerating the ferocity of the raging inferno, sending even Thalmin’s fur into a shiver and my gut into a knot. Their eyes met, and in what I could only describe as a snort of amethyst embers and soot, it roared. SKREEAAAUUUUUCHHHHHHH!!!! A crackling noise soon followed, sparks haphazardly illuminating the dark of its throat. Then, a subtle ping of a mana radiation spike. Finally, a sudden FWOOOOSH enveloped all auditory channels. … Bright blue dragonflame, orders of magnitude larger than the satyr’s jet of water, vaporized everything it came into contact with… The water— Skkksshhhhhhhh —the foliage— Crackle! Hiss! —and finally, the satyr and his forward scouting party. Their screams were short-lived. But even so, the chorus of guttural bellows and bloodcurdling shrieks echoed into the night, each note and octave searing deep into my core. “Emma—” I heard a distant voice calling. But my body was frozen, my eyes staring blankly at the impressions of boots and hooves rendered into baked clay on the forest floor. “EMMA! We have to move!” Thalmin shouted, breaking through the haze of shock, as he attempted to shake me out of it. I blinked rapidly, staring at his finger as he gestured to the dragon moving to gain altitude, with the two drake riders in hot pursuit. This was our chance to tag and follow it. So without a second thought, I acknowledged Thalmin’s urgings. “Right.” Before quickly turning to the EVI. “EVI. Send the survey drone after it. Observe maximum threat range and stay clear of its sightline." “Query: Specify survey drone.” “The one we currently have in the air! SUR-DRONE03B—” I paused, my heart skipping a beat as I noticed something pop up on my HUD. [SUR-DRONE03… STATUS… CRITICAL DAMAGE… REQUESTING RETRIEVAL AND EXFIL] I craned my head up, following the ping of the lost survey drone, until I was met with the dragon roaring overhead. ROOOOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR! And while its roar tore across the silence of the night, a familiar red pulse emanated from a crevice on its back — a tiny antenna piercing deep into the empty dark. First | Previous | Next (Author's Note: And there we have it! :D The dragon makes its appearance, alongside a certain missing drone from back during the warehouse explosion! :D I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! :D The next Two Chapters are already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters.) (Author's Note 2: Here's the Updated Map for Emma and Thalmin's progress so far! :D) [If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 150 and Chapter 151 of this story is already out on there!)] submitted by /u/Jcb112 to r/HFY [link] [comments]

I am NOT OOP. OOP is u/ThrowRANoRespectWife Originally posted to r/AITAH Previous BoRUs: #1 [New Update]: AITAH for asking my wife to choose our family over hers? NEW UPDATE MARKED WITH ---- Editor’s note: removed the older relevant comments for space in this latest continuing BoRU Trigger Warnings: emotional abuse and manipulation, job loss, mentions of abuse, body injury, seizures, fears of infidelity, mentions infidelity AITAH for asking my wife to choose our family over hers?: August 29, 2025 AITAH for asking my wife to choose our family over hers? I posted on here a bit ago about a situation when I sort of forced my way into a zoo trip my wife had planned with the kids, my parents, and my in-laws (see my previous post.)A lot of people thought I was the AH for doing that, even though that wasn’t the point of the post. But now, I’ve found myself in a similar situation and tried doing the opposite and it doesn’t seem to be working out any better. So, my wife has already told me that I am the AH in this situation, even if she didn’t use those exact words. And I know nothing Reddit has to say about it would change her mind (especially since I won’t/can’t tell her that I’m even posting about it) but I’m starting to question my own judgement a bit here, so maybe you all can set me straight. My wife and I are in the middle of a really rough patch in our marriage. We separated for six months and even when we ended the separation, the issues that caused it weren’t fixed. Long story short: I lost my job when she was pregnant, she asked me to move out, when I moved back in I was sleeping in the basement for quite a while, she’s refused any sort of physical contact, and we’ve just started marriage counseling (second session was last night.) And in MC, I’ve come to learn that her family more or less hates me. Or, at the very least, doesn’t trust me. Like not at all. During our MC session last night, our therapist said that it was important for us to start spending more time together, both as a family (two kids) and as a couple. My wife was resistant to the idea of ‘date nights’ so the counselor reframed it as ‘exposure therapy’. Basically, she said that neither of us will ever get past the barriers that have built up in our relationship if we continue to essentially live separate lives. My wife seemed to understand that and was fairly receptive to the idea, at least while we were in the counselor’s office. Which brings us to this weekend. In America, it’s a holiday weekend and our family has a long-standing tradition of spending the three-day weekend at my in-law’s camp on a lake. My SIL and her family come and most of my wife’s extended family pops in at least for an afternoon/evening or two, even if they don’t spend the night. Some of her and my SIL’s friends from high school usually drop by for a catch up, too and I know my wife has been trying to reconnect with friends in an effort to find an identity outside of just being a mom and a wife. But, given our current marital strife, the knowledge that my MIL has actively and repeatedly tried to convince my wife that we should not be together (which I’ve known about for barely a week), my new and growing worry that my mistakes are now a black cloud hanging over my relationships with all of my wife’s family and friends, and that due to space constraints, we’d not only have to share a room but also a bed, it seemed to me like heading to camp should be a no-go. My wife didn’t agree. In fact, fifteen minutes after we got home from our MC session last night, she started packing up for the weekend. But she was only packing for her and the kids. She didn’t come right out and say it, but it was pretty obvious (even to usually oblivious me) that the plan was for my family to go to the lake without me even though we’d just been told a little more than an hour before that we needed to spend time together. I tried pointing that out in as calm and as non-confrontational a way as I could, using the ‘I feel’ statements that our therapist suggested. I said to my wife: “I feel like this weekend is a really good opportunity for us to spend time together as a family and I really feel like if three-fourths of us go to camp, that isn’t just living separate lives but making a point of living separate lives.” At first, she thought I was trying to be included in the trip and go with her and the kids, much like I forced my way into the zoo trip. I quickly explained that no, that was one hundred percent not what I wanted (without even mentioning that being around my MIL for an entire weekend would have required my entire bottle of Xanax) and what I was hoping for was that she and the kids could stay home with me. There’s a whole bunch of picnic and BBQ and block party events going on in and around our neighborhood and I thought we could go to some of those and spend time as a family. In my head, starting off by doing something as a whole family instead of just as a couple would build in a buffer for her, would give me a chance to show that I can be a real partner in parenting, and would let her see me in what I know is my best light: as a dad. That was what I thought in my head but, apparently, my head and my wife’s head were not on the same page as she said no to that idea by saying: “I want to spend the weekend with my family.” One thing our therapist stressed repeatedly was that to have any chance at productive conversations, we both need to avoid any kind of escalation in our communication, which was probably because things escalated more than once during our latest session. So, I took a deep breath and did not point out that spending the weekend with me and the kids would be spending it with her family. And despite what many many many Redditors have said I should do, I didn’t lay out any ultimatums or ask her to cut back on contact with her family or suggest that she was planning some kind of lakeside hookup with some guy my MIL might better approve of. But this is when I might have been the AH (or definitely was, according to my wife). I tried sticking to the ‘I feel’ idea and told her that I felt like if she took the kids and went to camp without me, especially if she went less than a day after our counselor said we needed more time together, that she was making a choice and that choice was clearly not us. So, in her mind, for all intents and purposes: I gave her an ultimatum. Do you think she took that well and we were able to have a calm and productive and healthy conversation about it and maybe even come to some sort of compromise? Do you think I’d be posting this at almost midnight on the Friday of a holiday weekend because my blood pressure is through the roof and I can’t sleep if she did? She told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was an AH for laying that all on her, reminded me that it was my choices that got us here in the first place, stopped packing, and after making sure both kids were asleep, she went into our bedroom (which has been only her bedroom for the last year), shut the door and locked it. And now I have no idea if I’m going to wake up to my wife and kids waiting to hang out with me and spend the next three days together or if they’ll be on the road to camp before the sun is even up. I do know that she thinks I am absolutely the AH. And I kinda think she might be right. AITAH for telling my wife she was choosing her family over her family with me and the kids? AITAH has no consensus bot, OOP was NTA   Update #1: September 5, 2025 (one week later) Update: AITAH for asking my wife to choose our family over hers? I got a comment yesterday wondering if my silence was a positive or negative sign (it was a sign of a crazy week at work) so I thought I should take the chance to post an update today since I have a bit of time. You can see the specific incident I’m updating in my previous post and there’s a bunch of posts on my history from the sub I originally started posting on, if you want more background/context or reasons to question whether I have a spine. I mentioned in a comment reply to my last post that my wife actually woke me up early the morning after I had basically given her an ultimatum to choose between our family and her family. She wanted to talk before she and the kids left for my in-law’s camp. TBH, I was expecting it to be the ‘I’m not coming back’ or ‘we should get lawyers’ talk, but it wasn’t. To my surprise, my wife (I called her ‘Carrie’ on the other sub, so I will do so here, too) actually apologized. She said the comment about wanting to spend the weekend with “her family” had been out of line and intended to hurt me. She was pissed, annoyed at me because she knew I was kinda right about what I was saying, and she lashed out. It’s not the first time that’s happened so her explanation didn’t shock me that much. But she also said that she understood where I was coming from. If we want to fix things - and we’ve both said we do - then lashing out like that needs to stop and we do need to spend time together as a family. And she completely got why choosing to spend the entire weekend with her family, whose dislike for me had just become public knowledge, instead of being with me might have been upsetting for me. For a moment, I thought she was going to invite me to camp with her and I’m not gonna lie, I was panicking. I was worried that right after I’d more or less demanded she spend time with me, I was going to have to refuse an invitation to do exactly that. But there was no chance I was going to willingly spend three days with my MIL or SIL, particularly not after our last counseling session. Carrie didn’t invite me. Instead, she offered a compromise: she and the kids would go to camp Saturday and stay until midday Sunday, then come home and spend the rest of the weekend with me. There were some family members of hers who live out in California who would be there on Saturday and she doesn’t get to see them very often, so… That actually felt really fair to me and like Carrie was putting in an honest effort to try and meet me halfway, so I agreed. They left for camp that morning and came back on Sunday, as planned, and we had a really nice day and a half together. There was a block party kind of thing on Monday and we took the kids to that and I made sure to handle baby duty with our daughter as much as possible, to give Carrie a break. She seemed pretty appreciative of that and got to spend some time with a few of our neighbors that she’s struck up friendships with and introduced me to some of them who I hadn’t met yet. It was… nice. It felt normal, I guess. But as the day wore on and it got to be time to head back home, I started getting anxious. The kids were wiped and would clearly be heading straight to bed, which would leave me and Carrie alone for more than the hour or so we’d had on Sunday night. If we followed the counselor’s advice, we should spend that time together. I was under no illusion that spending time was going to result in any sort of spousal relations or anything like that, but there would have to be talking and I was concerned about what topic of conversation wouldn’t lead us to some sort of trouble. And it felt like maybe I was right when the first thing Carrie said was that she wanted to talk about the possibility of her having those “girls’ nights” with her mom and sister. We’d essentially punted on that topic during our last counseling session. Other things had come up that had escalated tensions and the therapist said we probably weren’t in the best place to make a good decision about any of it at that moment. But since she’d spent a day and a half with my MIL and SIL, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised it came back up. I was surprised that she offered another compromise: she didn’t have to cut her work hours down to part-time, she’d just have to adjust hours on other days so she could leave early on the girls’ nights days and come in late the following day. Apparently, she’d already cleared that with work and could start doing it whenever she wanted, even as soon as this week. She hadn’t been at work since our last session so it was obvious that she’d gotten all this “clearance” before we had even talked about it with the therapist. On the one hand, I could see how it was a compromise and seemed pretty fair, which was good. On the other hand, I felt sort of misled (not sure that’s the right word.) Like she had made the compromise about the weekend to soften me up for the possibility of agreeing to girls’ nights. I’ll say that that might be me being paranoid or overly suspicious and that’s probably a direct result of how many “she’s planning to cheat or already is” comments I’ve gotten here. But just because you’re paranoid, that doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you, right? I did my best to ignore the paranoia but also get to what was starting to worry me. I asked her flat out why having a weekly girls’ night with her mom and sister (something she’d never done before) was so important to her now, especially since both MIL and SIL are very actively against our marriage. I said I didn’t want to cut her off from them or prevent her from having some fun and an escape, but the idea of her spending an entire night out drinking and in situations where there’s a pretty high likelihood of venting/complaining about relationships with two people who might be inclined to encourage her worst instincts when it came to our relationship made me really anxious. I didn’t suggest that she might be using it as an opportunity to cheat; I didn’t even let on that the thought that she might find someone else had crossed my mind (or the minds of a lot of anonymous Redditors.) I stayed as far away from any of that as possible and tried to keep the conversation focused on my worries about her spending that much time with my MIL and SIL. Carrie said she understood. She said that was a reasonable concern, especially given all that she’d shared in our sessions about her mom’s feelings toward me. And she said that, normally, she’d probably give in and stay home and spend that time with me and the kids. But, she said: “My sister needs me, right now. Her husband left her.” Apparently, BIL left SIL the day after the family’s annual 4th of July party (my in-laws have way too many holiday get togethers) and my SIL is not taking it well. And when SIL doesn’t take something well, my MIL takes it worse and since BIL was the golden boy, the perfect son-in-law, the one I was always unfavorably compared to, there’s a lot of upset and anger and sadness and Carrie feels like she needs to spend time with her family to support her sister. She wants to help SIL navigate suddenly being a single parent and help her figure out if she can find a way to reconcile with BIL, and basically act like SIL’s conscience and keep her from making any bad choices while there’s still the possibility of saving her marriage. Bad choices like hooking up with some random dude at a bar during one of their girls’ nights. Which, as I found out last night in counseling, is exactly the reason BIL left her. She cheated on him. So, my wife is asking me to be OK with her spending nights out with her mother (who hates me) and her sister (who’s a cheater and hates me) and not feel any kind of way about all that. And even if I do, it doesn’t really matter as SIL needs her and Carrie’s already made it “all good” with work and in doing that she was “compromising” on what she really wanted and had asked for and that’s a good thing and a sign of progress for our own reconciliation and both Carrie and our therapist think if I can just see it in those terms, I’ll realize that there’s nothing to be worried or upset about. Which is how I got here. Writing an update to Reddit while my daughter is napping in her crib next to me and my wife is on her way to her mother’s house for girls’ night which got moved to Friday night thanks to the holiday, so she doesn’t even have to worry about work tomorrow. And I am just fine with that. Really. I’m totally, one hundred percent fine with it. I even told Carrie that on her way out the door. Go ahead, Reddit. Tell me I’m an idiot. An idiot trying to cling to any small steps in the right direction for his family, but still an idiot. I may update later on the other sub about the last two MC sessions because they were both a lot but this post was already a freaking novel. And I’m still processing everything I’ve heard from Carrie and the therapist. I’m slow when it comes to stuff like that. Let me know if anyone cares to hear about it, after you get done yelling at me in the comments. tl;dr: Wife and I compromised over holiday weekend plans. We spent time together as a family and it was good. She still wants girls' nights because her sister's husband just left her after she cheated on him during a night out.   Update #2: September 11, 2025 (six days later) Update 2: AITAH for asking my wife to choose between her family and ours Previous posts in my history. Can't get linking to work on mobile. Not the update I had planned for. I thought I was going to post about the revelations in marriage counseling and more about my own therapy session. And instead, I'm writing this while sitting in an uncomfortable pleather chair in the family lounge of our local children's hospital, where I've been for about the last twenty-four hours. Long story short - my son fell down the stairs in our house. At minimum, he broke his arm. I say at minimum because they've been evaluating him for head trauma and there are questions as to what caused the fall. We have very specific rules for the stairs with him. No socks or footie pj's. Always hold the railing. Go very slowly. And if mom or dad are there and not holding his sister, hold one of their hands. He was good on the first three. We even installed a second railing below the first one, at a more age appropriate height. He had a grip on it. But I was the only one home and was carrying his sister down the stairs, so he didn't take my hand. I don't know what happened, exactly. I've described it like twenty times to the doctors and to my wife. But it's still not entirely clear. He was down three steps and his foot was out to go down one more and then he just stopped. And then dropped. It was about six more steps to the bottom and I chased but couldn't get there and I think it was when he hit the landing that his arm broke. But he didn't even cry out. I called 9-1-1 and then my wife but had to leave her a voicemail and how the fuck do you leave that message without sounding like it's the end of the damn world? I don't even remember what I said. But then the ambulance was there and off we went to the hospital and here we've been since. My wife met us there a couple hours later which was after they'd given my son some children's painkillers and something to calm him down a bit (they told/explained them all to me but I don't remember fuck all except him crying) so at least she didn't have to see the worst of it. My in-laws and parents have both come by and my daughter is with my parents now. There was no drama like at the zoo as apparently we're all able to be adults when the kid is hurting. And no, before someone asks: my wife wasn't at girls’ night. She had a massive work event for all the offices in our region that was being held two hours away. She got back as quickly as she could. No one, including my wife or her mom or the doctors, has blamed me for what happened. The guilt is eating me alive, though. I should have been quicker. I should have been in front of him and not behind him. Hell, the only reason I'm even writing this is because my wife is in with him and she told me to take a break because she saw how bad it was getting for me. Like it or not, she still knows me pretty well. And I guess I just needed to see it in writing, on the screen, to see if it might make any more sense. It doesn't. I expect we're going to be here a while longer. I haven't slept since Wednesday night. I might crash in this awful chair and try to shut off my brain. Or I might respond to the msgs in my inbox that I haven't gotten to. With my family not here and Ellie off on her final family camping trip of the season, y'all are about the only people I've got to talk to when I take a mental health break. I'll update when I can. Hopefully, it will be less busted arms and head trauma and more SIL cheated and it's all BIL's fault. tl;dr: son fell down the stairs. Broken arm and maybe head trauma. Family all came to the hospital. No drama ensued. I'm feeling guilty as hell. EDIT: We're being released today. He's in good spirits and excited to have everyone sign his cast. And he's already bonked me in the head with it twice. Thank you everyone for all the supportive msgs!   ----NEW UPDATE---- Update #3: September 23, 2025 (12 days later) Update 3: AITAH for asking my wife to choose between her family and ours I don't know how much of an update this really is, but I got a few messages asking about things and after two hours of IC last night, I need a place to put some thoughts, so here you go... It's been confirmed that the CPS report was not made by the hospital. And it was specifically about me and my neglect/mistreatment of my son. The fall down the stairs was cited as an example. Given that the only people who knew about it at the time of the report were me, my wife, her family, and my parents (and all the anonymous Redditors who read my post), it's kind of clear that the call was made by family. No, I don't know who for sure. My wife and I are still discussing how we want to go about confronting both my MIL/SIL and my parents. As angry as I am about it, I also understand that accusing an innocent party of something like that could make an awful situation even worse. We're going to talk to our therapist about it. So, no definitive answer but I do have a gut feeling that I've kept to myself so far. I have consulted a lawyer and have a couple more meetings scheduled. Just checking all my options and learning about what I need to do no matter what I ultimately decide. I am intensive individual counseling with the therapist I worked with for a year after I lost my job. Like I said, two hours just last night. My therapist considers me to be 'in crisis' so she's been making extra accommodations for me. We're digging in hard on how I handle things, why I don't seem to value myself, and my expectations for relationships. I know some comments on my other posts have suggested that I've left things out or not said everything. My therapist agrees; last night we came to the conclusion (as in she guided me into figuring out what she already knew) that I hold back some things because I have minimized them in my head or think that they will make me seem like I'm looking for sympathy. And that isn't just in my posts. There are things I've never told my wife, either. My therapist wants me to work on being more forthcoming and honest with myself. So, I will probably be making posts like that on my profile, as she's encouraged me to write about it. Not necessarily for validation, but because I need to get it out but I'm not at a point where I can say it out loud, even to her. I suggested giving her my reddit info, but she didn't think that was a good idea. The thought is that I will do better if I don't feel like my thoughts are exposed to anyone I feel has power in my life. We've also discussed my apparent need to defend myself, even to commentors who seem hell bent on ignoring anything I say. I've actually broached that topic, without mentioning Reddit, with my wife. I asked her at the end of our most recent MC session if she thought I always have to be right. She said no, that it isn't that I always have to be right; it's that I can't ever be wrong. Apparently, those are two different things. And I want to thank those of you who have left kind comments or sent msgs. I know I haven't responded to most of them (read them all, though.) Some thing about exchanging one-on-one private messages feels more like violating my wife's trust than posting 'out in the open'. But I do appreciate the support more than you know. And to whoever sent the Reddit Cares referral (I think that's what it was called), I'm OK and it means a lot that someone was worried about me. I'll update if/when we find out who sent the report or when I know more about SIL cheating (BIL texted me after he heard about my son's fall, but I haven't managed more than a 'thanks' in reply yet) or if we make any breakthroughs in counseling, if anyone wants to know. tl;dr - someone in our family called CPS, but we don't know who. I'm consulting lawyers and I'm in intensive therapy that's pushing me to deal with things I've ignored or downplayed. And BIL reached out but we haven't talked yet. Relevant Comments OOP responds to a downvoted commenter accusing him of looking for someone to blame on instead of himself OOP: I've got three jobs and don't drink, never yell at the kids, don't degrade anyone, no shouting. If you didn't read the other posts, my kid had a seizure and fell down the stairs. The hospital viewed it as a medical issue and an accident with no reason to suspect abuse. But someone in our family called in a report on me, specifically, after the hospital. I mean, I know I defend myself too much but the whole situation feels like someone intentionally trying to do damage, not protect my kids. Commenter 1: Is your therapist really saying you need to defend yourself against everyone on Reddit who criticizes you? I am skeptical about that. OOP: The other replies were right. I have a habit of defending myself excessively. Therapist is helping me to understand why and how to better manage the feelings that are at the root of it. She's absolutely not encouraging me to defend myself against criticism. Commenter 2: Sit all the family who were at the hospital down and tell them they have five minutes to admit what they did or you're cutting them all off. Their responses will tell you who it was. They tried to get CPS to take your kid. Gloves are off. OOP: I like the idea. And in an ideal world, that's what I'd do. But if it was my MIL/SIL, my wife would have to be on board with cutting them off and she's just not. And if it was my parents... cutting them off sounds great, in theory. But if I do, then all I've got left is my wife and that's nowhere near a certainty, and her family who hate me. I know keeping in contact with my parents just so I still have some sort of family is not a great reason and I will probably get told that I'm dumb for it in the comments, but I don't know what else to do. And that, in a nutshell, is why I haven't confronted anyone yet. Because neither answer is good. And, tbh, I'm just pushing off the inevitable because I'm pretty sure I know what happened and I can't bring myself to know for sure. OOP answers a couple questions 1) is your wife angry that her mother reported you to CPS? - She's pissed off that someone reported me and that we had the added stress of dealing with that on top of our son's health issues. I don't know how she will react once we know for sure who did it. 2) does your wife still have essentially zero respect for you? Or is she at least starting to see that there are things wrong with how you are perceived? - I honestly don't know. She is clearly and vocally mad that anyone could suggest that I would abuse my son. We haven't actually spoken to either of our families since CPS came - everything through text so there's written documentation - but I've seen the texts she has sent to her mom and she's made it VERY clear that there is no world in which I would ever be an abusive dad and she will not listen to any arguments to the contrary. I don't know if that translates to any respect for me as a man or husband. I understand what you were saying about being right and being wrong. I think it reflects my mindset fairly accurately. And I really think it explains why I have spent too much energy and effort arguing with the negative comments.   Latest Update here: BoRU #3   DO NOT COMMENT IN LINKED POSTS OR MESSAGE OOPs – BoRU Rule #7 THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT OOP submitted by /u/Choice_Evidence1983 to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

First | Previous | Next Patreon | Official Subreddit | Series Wiki | Royal Road I wouldn’t call myself a ‘party person.’ I’d never even gone out clubbing or bar crawling outside of VR. Alcohol just wasn’t my thing, not to mention the taste was just a bit too off-putting. However, there was something different about tonight. Maybe it was the fact that the main attraction — alcohol — was a physical impossibility for me. Or maybe it was the simple fact that this wasn’t your typical bar, club, pub, let alone a space pub. Maybe, just maybe, it had to do with the fact that we were in a certified tavern in another world. And that notion? Of actively partaking in festivities outside of time and space, in a literal fantasy setting? Well… suffice it to say it just ticked all of the boxes in my ‘impossible dreams’ bucket list. Floorboards creaked as crowds gathered around the impromptu dance floor where tables and chairs had been cast, tossed, or pushed gently aside for the purposes of song, dance, and shenanigans. My tired body was somehow sucking in energy from the electrifying atmosphere around us as fiddles wailed, violins screeched, lutes twanged, and drums thumped to the beat of some bardic tunes. THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP went the beat, as about half of the tavern’s patrons tapped their toes and bounced their heels against the scuffed and worn oaken floorboards beneath their feet. THRUMMMMM THRUMMMMM THRUMMMMM the lutes resonated, leading the charge as violas and violins ZWINGED and PLINKED to the fast-paced rhythm of the surprisingly bassy drums. Then came the vocals, as dialects that might as well have been from half the Nexus away sung in a deep, rich, warbly, and tinny sequence, their tones ducking and weaving against the melody of the strings, creating this weird, whiny melancholy, which shouldn’t have fit with the fast-paced beat of the ever-evolving tune. But somehow it did. Especially with the EVI’s translation suite turned off, allowing for the voices of the vocalists to seep through, unimpeded by code and algorithms. There were no more attempts at localization. Instead, there was just the enjoyment of the piece as it was meant to be enjoyed — raw and in its purest of forms. I felt my heart fluttering and my spine tingling to the otherworldly timbre of the pair of lead elf and dwarven singers that carried this raw, earthy resonance underpinning each and every note. The dancing came naturally, but what came next came even more so. It started at the end of the last peak, as this eight-minute piece was about to crescendo. Like a subtle but powerful urge to join in on the action, egged on by some invisible force and spurred on by the increased emphasis on the beat of the drums. clap Came the first brave soul. Clap-clap Came another. CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP The whole hall erupted into an impromptu orchestra of barehanded percussionists, as even the wallflowers joined in to drive the tune onwards, their palm strikes threatening to overpower the band on stage. Then, just as we reached the loudest extent of the percussion, everything stopped. The beat slowed to a crawl, the instrumentals mellowed out. But the vocalists? They just kept on going. The sudden shift in direction was more than just whiplash. It was ear-tinglingly satisfying. The elf and dwarf duo pushed forwards into this weird mix of high and low notes before harmonizing right at the end and capping the whole thing off with a sudden and abrupt THUMP of both feet and drums. The whole room went quiet as all dancers stopped mid-stride. Then came the applause, as shouts, cheers, and even more alcohol were spread amidst the parched dancers. I, for one, had to settle for the little sippy straw helpfully extended to me by the EVI, and as I sucked greedily, I quietly thanked the spirits of the brave and intrepid pioneers that had come before me for the sweat-wicking qualities of the undersuit’s balaclava. Otherwise, I’d probably have a fair bit of sweat stinging my eyes with no way of rectifying it. Now that would be a mood killer… “Ladies and gentlemen, wayward travelers and weary locals alike, may I have your attention!” The bardic troupe on stage spoke in unison before their elven leader took charge. “It has come to our attention that many of us here today owe a great deal to two very important highborns amidst our ranks. Not only for the food and drink — though I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that wasn’t a big part of it—” He paused, garnering a few chuckles from the crowd. “—but also for their selfless and heroic acts on this unforgettable day. Let’s hear it for the heroes of Marsh’s Pond!” “HEAR HEAR!” The whole tavern roared to life, as instead of any clean hip hip hoorays or organized series of claps, the scene instead descended into the purest form of appreciation — hoots, hollers, yells, and whistles. Amidst, of course, the drunken cheers of admiration from those indulging from the endless tap of Thalmin’s generosity. “And now with that out of the way, I’d like to make a proposal…” The elf grinned widely, gesturing towards us as the crowd parted ways as if to emphasize this unexpected new development. “I invite either of you to serenade the closing hours of tonight’s celebrations!” The crowd went wild at this proposition, as several table slams and chorus-like chanting egged both of us on. I found myself turning to Thalmin once more as we locked eyes in a haze of confusion. “I think I’m going to sit this one out, Emma.” Thalmin spoke quietly, half his focus taken by the power of drink and the other half by his seemingly futile efforts to keep his distance from the ever-growing crowd of fawning admirers threatening to stampede him. “Oh, don’t worry.” I smiled excitedly. “I’ve been waiting for this moment… though are you sure you’ll be able to handle the…” I pointed towards the crowd that had grown to critical mass, as Thalmin responded by simply— [ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED: 200% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS] —forming an invisible barrier between himself and the aforementioned swarm. “I think I can handle myself, Emma. Besides… I’m excited to see what you have in store.” The Township of Sips. The Inn. Tavern Lobby. Local Time: 2240 Hours. Thalmin I watched in flighty anticipation as Emma took to the stage, my eyes narrowing as she whispered something to the strings and percussionists, all the while dismissing the vocalists to the back. What happened next wasn’t what I’d at all expected, as the earthrealmer suddenly — and rather inexplicably — conjured a strangely flat and oddly shaped lute of manaless light before her very being. Or, at least, that’s what I assumed the ghostly shell of an instrument was. Because instead of a cohesive object, what had formed was a fractured spectral facsimile of a lute. It was as if the instrument was stuck in some sort of ethereal limbo, with its brightest and most defined edges clinging near the source of light on her forearm, while the rest of its oddly shaped mass trailed off into a ghostly shadow. And while the crowds were blindly impressed by this sudden display of ‘magic’, it would be the innkeeper and myself who seemed to be the only ones perceptive enough to feel the discrepancy between its magic-like form and the absolute deadness of its presence within the local manastreams. Though I could care less for the uneasiness it caused, given both experience and ale had dulled my wary proclivities. “Alrighty, folks! This is an oldie— er, well, it’s an oldie where I come from at least.” Emma began with frisson, barely stifling a stutter as she turned to the percussionist, giving him a nod before turning back to the crowd, her fingers poised against the construct of light and air. Then, it started. Taking everyone by surprise, it began with a brazen flourish like a lute possessed, its strings bit with a metallic brightness no gut nor metal-strung harp could match. The noises, these sounds, struck out in bold repeating patterns, moving up and down with Emma’s twiddling fingers that plucked at nothing but the air itself. These were hammer blows dressed in music, carrying neither the refinement of court compositions nor the primal bluntness of lowborn music, but instead… something in between. I could feel the rhythm of marching feet and festival drums made into a melody, as this metallic lattice of notes roused the body before the mind was able to catch up to its meaning. I didn’t know what to make of it. I didn’t understand where to even put it. But what I did know was that I was now possessed by the spirits to dance. I moved in uncoordinated motions, twisting, turning, flailing arms this way and that, all the while ensuring the barrier to the unscrupulous masses held firm… lest I be swallowed in their wake. The crowds did much of the same, most of them simply moving to the strange and bizarre beat, whilst others tried but failed to match their well-rehearsed tavern dancing to the tune of this Earthrealm piece. Then came the lyrics. I didn’t know what I expected. But I was relieved that Emma’s vocals were at least as practiced as her strumming. Each harsh and rasping twang of her bizarre instrument was matched by the coarseness of her voice — her real voice — as I understood not a single word of what she sang. The gibberish, however, was at least pleasant to hear. Every word swaggered while the notes within seemed to stumble on purpose, drunk on its own prose. Repetition and chorus dominated the piece, but that just made the verses and bridges all the more impactful. Yet despite the competency of her voice, I couldn’t help but focus on that otherworldly instrument itself, its sounds, and the inherent reverberating echo it seemed to generate. Each stroke sounded as if several lutes had been merged together, each distinct voice becoming one of a greater metallic whole. This was compounded the further the song went on, as Emma’s movements became increasingly erratic, less composed, less repetitive, and more dynamic with every strum accompanied by a stomp of her foot and a swoosh of her body. Then came the flinging of her head as she moved back and forth in fierce and rhythmic motions, as if she was trying to shake the remaining notes of the song out of her skull. This abrupt sequence culminated in what I could only describe as the carefree disregard of her nonexistent instrument, as she swung it back and forth, up and down, even going so far as to hold it high above her head at one point, breaking all semblance of musicality and becoming outright noise. Her sudden breakdown in composure culminated in her daring leap towards an elevated wooden platform behind the drummer. As she leapt with wild and reckless abandon— CRACK— SQUCRDKFSHHHHHHH —smashing it in the process. The accompanying instruments all but stopped at this point as Emma remained alone, ‘recovering’ from that fall by sliding across the varnished stage on both knees, strumming the lute of light with such ferocity that the pitch generated caused all within the crowd to cover their ears with hands, paws, and fins alike. She held that ear-piercing note for three seconds more before she finally seemed to register the disaster that had unfolded in her wake. The crowds remained silent, in varying states of stunned, confused, and of course… blackout drunk. Though the latter didn’t seem to care how the festivities went either way. All eyes remained transfixed on Emma and her disappearing lute of light, as she abruptly sent it off as suddenly as it had appeared before addressing the crowd with a nervous cough. “I… I guess you guys probably aren’t ready for that yet. Sorry about that, folks.” Yet despite the apology, a few lonely claps emerged as even a satyr amidst the crowd held a dismissive chuckle to Emma’s sentiments. “While the ending may have been… unconventional, I’m certain my good-for-nothing sons would find the novelty alone charming.” A series of mumbling acknowledgements followed before claps and cheers eventually filled the air. However, amidst the applause, there remained two thoughts that naggingly lingered in my slightly inebriated mind. One — that I had to get my hands on more pieces of… whatever this genre was. Two — that those last few seconds of Emma’s performance revealed something else other than her highly questionable musical improvisation skills. Indeed, if one listened closely behind the high-pitched squeals of her strumming… there existed a very audible buzzing. It was a strange sort of undercurrent. Almost like the emergent thrum when channeling lightning, but if I hazarded a guess… It was a sound which could only have been generated by a very specific order of species… Arachnids. This revelation only added more fuel to the fires of my growing assertions. Especially when one considers the fact that Emma had explicitly disabled her translation tools for the sake of her singing. Leading me to believe that this was her natural undertone seeping through the cracks. However, in my moment of reflection, I dared to tempt fate by failing to heed one of Uncle's first lessons. Always be wary of your surroundings, runt. You never know when— His ethereal words were cut short by the crowds that took this moment of weakness to swarm me. The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Dragon Heart’s Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Living Room. Local Time: 2245 Hours Thacea “So you don’t like bardic improvisation?” Ilunor continued. “No.” I replied as plainly as I did at the start of this whole debacle. “How about sunroom zeal?” “No.” “Hallway ambiance?” “No.” “Stairway ambiance?” “No.” “Reflections in Sound?” “What?” “Reflections in Sound, they’re an alternative bardic troupe that has gained some popularity in the crownlands over the last century. I’ve heard—” “I don’t like alternative.” “Oh? Are you certain? From what I’ve been able to gather, you seem to be a fan of neither contemporary nor classical, nor commoner, nor tavern, so I’d assumed alternative would have been—” “The so-called alternative movements you speak of are simply shortened, condensed, and truncated versions of their parent genres. Nothing more, but most certainly far less.” “Then what do you like, princess?!” Ilunor finally gave up, shouting and pouting all the while. “Nothing.” “W-what? Nothing?! How can someone as seemingly cultured as yourself dare to give such a boorish answer?! Even commoners enjoy some sort of music, as debased and debauched as it may be!” “You requested that I be frank, and so here I am, Ilunor. Being as frank as I am comfortable with." I retorted bluntly. “If you must insist on digging further, my answer is this: nothing speaks to me. Court music is always as pompous as those who genuinely enjoy it. Orchestral compositions are impressive and easy on the ears, but are almost always repetitive and overstay their welcome. It doesn’t help that one must sit and remain silent for hours on end in a room with far, far too many points of entry and too little exits to truly be safe in. And even when orchestral pieces try to become anything but repetitive? They end up coming off as strange and unwieldy, complex for complexity’s sake, sounding more like jumbled noise than the frankly tolerable pieces they claim to iterate and improve over. I further dare to scoff at ballroom music. Individuals who enjoy ballroom music are the same sort who would backstab you in a heartbeat.” I leveled my unflinching gaze towards Ilunor, locking him in the signature Avinor’s Glare. “I know that you understand precisely what I mean, at least in that latter sentiment.” The Vunerian paused, giving those words genuine, intentful pondering; the first bout of what I could truly call reflection in the upstart kobold’s eyes. “While I must disagree with the first two of your sentiments… I cannot help but acknowledge the validity of the latter two.” He began with a crooked smile. “And here I thought I was the only one who found overly complex orchestral pieces to be hard on the ears, and only impressive to those looking into the technical and performative aspects of those pieces. Moreover, I am… glad to see that the ballroom music stereotype seems to transcend planar borders.” He chuckled dryly. “So then, princess… if you were to describe a genre that you would find tasteful, what would it be like?” He asked. This time not in a fit of theatrics or social games nor even in an inflammatory manner. Instead, this question seemed to be unapologetically genuine, standing out from all others. “Dark.” Came my uncharacteristically curt answer. “Dark? Oh come on, princess. We both know that the dark genre exists—” “They are posers.” I slammed my book shut, much to Ilunor’s surprise. “It is clear, by their very composition, that they know nothing of suffering. They merely posit the facsimile of pain, shroud it in a paper-thin veneer of manufactured misery, and then transpose over what would technically qualify as dark overtures… though only in so much that they draft their compositions in a minor scale.” Ilunor seemed genuinely taken aback by that scathing teardown; his eyes widened as his posture reeled back. Before finally, he let out a long wheezing laugh. “Oh princess… now this is the sort of thing we can bond over.” He paused for dramatic effect, opening both of his arms wide with excitement. “Moaning and melodrama!” The Township of Sips. The Inn. En Route to The Royal Suite. Local Time: 2300 Hours. Emma “Blue Knight?” The elven leader of the bardic troupe approached me, stopping me from saving Thalmin from the tidal wave of adoring commoners. “Yeah? I kinda need to go, and erm, sorry about the property damage. I’ll have the inn pay for—” “Oh, it’s not that, my lady. It’s just… we would like to know precisely what you just played?” His eyes grew wide, as did his gaggle of kobold and dwarven compatriots. “Yes, yes! Tell us! We LOVED your noise!” The little kobold yipped out, prompting me to sigh and nod in acknowledgement. “It’s called Rock and Roll, or at least, most of it was. The last bit was just me improvising and bleeding into random shredding that barely qualifies as hard rock or metal.” I offered, hoping and praying that the EVI was able to translate that. The dwarf narrowed his eyes, scratching the base of his beard. “Rock and stone?” “Nono, Rock and Roll.” I corrected him. “I think Rock and Stone works better…” He countered. “Of course you would…” The rest of the troupe grumbled, as I took that back and forth as my ticket to leave. I quickly reentered the sea of rowdy patrons, as organized musical chaos had now descended into proper drunken pub-crawl anarchy in barely any time at all. With a few wide-armed motions, I managed to swim through the rowdy mass of bodies, finding Thalmin and eventually aiding him in his escape from his impromptu entourage. “Alright, alright. Let’s break it up folks. My friend here is—” I was barely able to get out those scant few words before being swarmed myself. But instead of words of endearment and confessions of impossibly saccharine love that Thalmin seemed to receive, I instead got question upon question about the armor. “Might m’lady wish to partake in the — HICCUP — celebratoryyy rousals of drink?” A drunken satyr spoke before being pushed quickly aside by a burly dwarf. “That’s no way to speak to a knight in a vow of service! At least, that’s what I’m assuming the armor is all about, m’lady?” The dwarf butted in only to be sidestepped by an elf. “A bit presumptuous of you to be assuming, isn’t that right, m’lady—” “Let’s maybe talk later.” I put my foot down, side-stepping drunkard after drunkard until I finally got the path clear for both myself and Thalmin, who seemed surprisingly sober and put together despite the tankards of ale I saw him downing. “I don’t get it.” I began, refusing to acknowledge the crowds of clingy patrons that still insisted on trailing behind us. “Why aren’t you drunk yet?” “Pacing.” Thalmin offered through a wide-eyed grin. “And some good old Havenbrockian tolerance.” He chuckled out, causing the gathered crowd of elves, satyrs, baxi, and about another handful of other species to chuckle in affirmation. “Alright, alright. That’s it. Fun’s over, people. Please move out of the way.” Thalmin urged, standing up and taking step after wobbly step towards the glass elevator, prompting me to lend him a shoulder to balance off of. “Havenbrockian tolerance, huh?” I jabbed. “I’ll walk it off.” Thalmin shot back confidently as we slowly, but surely, made our way up and out of the tavern. The bouncer at the elevator thankfully helped to hold back much of the tide, keeping a wide berth while its double doors closed with a magical WHOOSH! We stood silently together in silence as I helped to keep Thalmin steady until we finally arrived at our ninth-floor suite. The views were breathtaking, at least for a town of this size. However, as soon as we entered, I quickly found Thalmin moving to plop himself on one of the beds, lying face-first and mumbling tiredly all the while. “That instrument… what was—” “Oh, erm, it was just a holo projection. A more advanced one than the reliable but frankly old ZNK-19 back at the dorm. Granted, I wasn’t able to project all of it because of the projector’s physical limitations, but—” “Right…” Thalmin interrupted with a tired moan. “Good job on the music. I liked it. We should… ugh… we should talk more… about Earthrealm genres. I like how much of a buzz it caused down there.” Thalmin chuckled hard at that line as I found that once again, Havenbrockian humor simply bounced right off of me. “Thanks, haha. I er, I’ll admit I’m not the best. I was mostly just following a lot of preloaded instructions and—” “I’m too tired to understand Earthrealm contraptions right now, Emma.” Thalmin interjected with a dulcet groan. “Right, of course. Oh! And erm, I couldn’t help but notice you were quite the talk of the town down there yourself.” I offered with a chuckle, providing him an off-ramp to another topic entirely. “Yeah… it’s typical commoners… they like to, well… attempt to climb the social ladder through shortcuts if they can.” He mumbled out. “Wait, is that actually possible?” I offered, as my curiosities began getting the better of me. “Yeah, yeah… eh… kind of sort of, you know? Ugh, it’s a topic that’s uncommon, basically.” “Right… that makes sense, I guess.” I acknowledged with a shrug. We both ended up resting in that bedroom for an hour. Thalmin spent much of that time breathing heavily and twisting this way and that in bed, occasionally spiking mana radiation warnings and causing the EVI to bring up the new wand interface just to get my feedback on it. Meanwhile, I sat on the floor at the foot of the prince’s bed, catching up on my reports and occasionally shooting the shit with the groggy prince. “I’m a mercenary prince, Emma. Emphasis on the warrior aspect of my being. I’m sure you understand, from soldier to soldier, warrior to warrior, how large of a role celebrations play in the upkeep of morale and camaraderie." “Yeah…” I acknowledged, my mind immediately swinging back to the infamous videos of Aunty Ran and her squad following the victory day celebrations in the months and years following the Jovian insurrection. “Yeah… I can relate.” “Though with that being said…” Thalmin trailed off, grumbling and huffing loudly as he brought himself to the edge of his bed, his legs dangling next to my left shoulder. “The latter aspect of my title still comes into play, mind you.” I didn’t immediately catch his drift, prompting me to cock my head in response. “As much as many lower houses of the lesser nobility may sully and muddle the image of all highborns, those amidst royalty — at least the royalty of Havenbrock — tend to be less… indulgent in the desires of the animal.” My eyes widened at this, as I immediately turned away, finally catching his meaning. “Oh, ohhhhh. You mean like— well… yeah, no. Back when nobility was still a big thing in our history, nobles were, like, notorious for that kind of stuff. Heck, I think it was the Louis line of French kings who were known to literally bring in mistresses into court and stuff.” Thalmin’s features scrunched up at that off-handed remark, as he shook his head in disgust. “No wonder you got rid of them.” He spoke darkly. “I would have.” “Hehe, well… the French people seemed to be of the same mind, though they probably had more pressing concerns than just the king’s private affairs and whatnot.” I offered vaguely, hoping Thalmin wouldn’t be curious enough to pry into the French Revolution, at least not now when he was still somewhat plastered. “In any case… just know that while us Havenbrockians are, as you say — party animals — we have stringent rules over our principles in decorum. Especially for those of us that are betrothed.” That latter line sent bells ringing in my head as I stretched my body out, sprawling up to the foot of the prince's bed. “Wait, are you saying that you’re…” “Yes, but not quite.” Thalmin answered abruptly. “Our fathers both understand that we are… close. She, however, is of a far lower house than I. So we shall wait and see if my brother will survive the next decade. If he does, then my marrying a lesser noble will be of little concern to the family lineage and dynastic politics. If he doesn’t? Then I shall be closer in line to the throne, thus necessitating a truly arranged marriage with someone more politically advantageous.” Thalmin remarked bluntly, my eyes narrowing, then widening, then narrowing again as hearing this from a friend’s mouth was… jarring, to say the least. This was the type of talk one would expect from a Kings of Crusade playthrough, or heck, some Castle and Wyverns roleplay. But to hear matters of marriage and love laid out so… bluntly? With political considerations superseding love? It was weird and was definitely pushing my fundamental systemic incongruency somewhat. “So what’s the lucky girl’s name?” I finally shot back, getting over the cultural hump and diving headfirst back into the juicy tea. “Asva. Lady Asva Rehlin of the House of Threepeaks.” Thalmin responded promptly. “And how did you guys meeeeeet?” I continued, crossing my legs with a metallic clang as I did so. Thalmin chuckled nervously at this, rubbing the back of his neck as he did so. “She was my squire. Then, as I joined the ranks and took up arms, she ascended into my Left Attending. My… ‘right hand’ or ‘second in command’, as the Nexians would say.” My eyes lit up at that, as I couldn’t help but to chuckle. “So you fell for a childhood sweetheart? I can’t say I’m surprised, but gosh, that’s kinda sweet, Thalmin.” I giggled. The prince, however, wasn’t having it, as he narrowed his eyes in response. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Oh, nothing, nothing! It’s just, kind of a trope back home — the proper and polished golden boy falling for a high school sweetheart.” I offered, prompting the prince to merely huff in understanding. “You flatter me, Emma… but rest assured, I am by no means a… as you say, ‘golden boy’.” He chuckled out before effortlessly shifting all that momentum back to me. “So enough about me. What about you, Cadet Emma Booker of Earthrealm? I don’t take your culture as one of betrothals, though considering you are Emma Booker and not just Emma, I don’t discount the possibility of houses and dynasties still existing in some fashion?” “Welllll, to answer your latter question, big-shot family names kiiinda still exist? But it’s rare. Like, it’s a niche cultural thing, and even then, you really aren’t defined by it—” I paused, thinking back to Aunty Ran, the Booker name, and the lineage on her side of the family that always seemed to have at least one of their members joining the armed forces in some fashion. “Well, it’s less of a compulsory political thing and more of an optional family tradition thing, in the event that it does exist you know? Otherwise, for the most part in the mainstream? It’s kinda not really a thing.” “Hmm… Things, things, things. So many things…” Came Thalmin’s ponderous response, as he once again kicked his feet back and forth in the air. “Don’t think that just because you’ve answered my latter question in full, I’ve simply forgotten about the former question, Emma.” He chuckled, egging me on. “Ugh, fiiiine, fiine. To put it simply, no, Thalmin. I’m not currently seeing anyone back home.” I answered with a friendly sigh. “Have you ever fancied anyone then?” He continued with a raised brow. “Ehhhhh, kinda? Some crushes here and there, but it never went anywhere. There was this one guy in swim class and this one girl in JROTC, but like, it was just puppy love, you know?” I shrugged. “Well that’s good.” Thalmin responded coyly. “For a moment there I was worried you’d somehow grown to fancy me. At which point, despite the potential for a grand inter-realm alliance, I’m afraid I’d have to decline, Cadet Emma Booker.” He spoke lackadaisically, jabbing me in the shoulder with a kick of his foot, prompting me to swat it away with a dry chuckle. “Oh fuck off, Thalmin.” I laughed as we both eventually let out a series of tired snickers that faded off into the night. The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Dragon Heart’s Tower. Student Lounge. Local Time: 2325 Hours Lady Ladona “Fancy seeing you here after curfew.” A sharp voice spoke, her words breaking through the night like a snap of lightning. “You should know, Lady Ilphius, that curfews are… subject to a great number of extraneous circumstances. A group project here, a hall pass there, little gifts that can grant one a great deal of flexibility within the Academy grounds… just as the Everblooming Blossom was likewise a ticket into a great deal of flexibility outside of campus grounds.” I spoke softly, teasingly, sinking my claws and proboscis into the heart of this serpent’s insecurities. Ilphius was an open book, as much as she attempted not to be. Which, ironically, stood in stark contrast to her conniving peer group leader… the meek and cowardly Etholin Esila. That… creature was a mastermind in disguise, pulling the rug out from Lord Ping’s great and grand return to prominence, even going so far as to incur something of a debt from us by virtue of his forfeiture in Lord Ping’s stead. And while social decorum didn’t see it as such — Etholin very much taking the fall in every sense of the word — I still felt slighted. This… was an offense, as subtle as it may be, that I could not allow. And so here I was in the midst of Lady Ilphius. The ever-conniving yet ignorant fool who would do anything to undermine Lord Esila’s authority. A fractured kingdom… is one ripe for rot and reward, as they say. “That forfeiture was not my idea.” Ilphius spoke bluntly, so bluntly that I scarcely registered it as genuine at first. “Of course it wasn’t. It was your ever-brilliant peer leader’s plans, no?” “Hmmph.” Was Ilphius’ only remark as she crossed her arms, her eyes staring out into the dark and lifeless night. “So what do you want, Lady Ladona? I don’t suppose you asked me here just for a spot of tea?” “Ever the observant member of court, my lady.” I responded, flattering her ego and allowing her to become comfortable around my presence. “Indeed, I had something of a business proposition… as your dear leader would say.” I quickly added, making certain to keep the flame of frustration alive in her subconscious. “Go on?” “We both understand that neither of us are enemies. Indeed, we both know that the root of our ills arises from one discrete individual.” Ilphius narrowed her gaze, hissing out in the process. “The newrealmer.” “Indeed… and while she’s absent — taking on the quest that you and your peers rightfully deserve — you are in a unique opportunity to… how shall I say this…” I trailed off, allowing the serpent to incriminate herself. “—make things right?” She completed my words for me. “I guess that’s one way of putting it, yes.” “What do you propose?” “The fulfillment of a dream.” I spoke vaguely. “A dream born of hate, from a certain lesser avinor who desires comeuppance by virtue of her realm’s unfortunate colloquial moniker.” “Airit? She’s with Qiv, there’s no way she lacks the discipline to act on her hatred, no matter how deep-seeded.” Ilphius countered. “Perhaps. But whatever the case may be, I would say that the ball is now in your court, Lady Ilphius. I’m simply here to provide some much-needed context. Take this meeting as a… friendly chat, one with no strings attached. Whether or not you wish to seize the day, or whether you wish to let this opportunity pass, is all up to you.” I spoke warmly, putting on a friendly and helpful smile, before simply departing with the seeds now sown for a harvest that may or may not come. Whether she recruits Airit or does it herself is irrelevant. The path is now laid. The newrealmer’s remaining peerage will face retribution on her behalf. First | Previous | Next (Author's Note: Here we go! The music chapter! I'm so excited and proud of this one! This was my first time writing a proper party scene, not to mention a scene that attempts to describe music! I really hope I managed to capture it well, because I know music conveyed through writing can be a real hit or miss haha. And when you combine that with my attempt at filtering the perspective of human music through Thalmin, it becomes even more tricky haha. So I really hope it came out alright! :D The next Two Chapters are already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters.) [If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 145 and Chapter 146 of this story is already out on there!)] submitted by /u/Jcb112 to r/HFY [link] [comments]

I am NOT OOP. OOP is u/ThrowRANoRespectWife Originally posted to r/AITAH AITAH for asking my wife to choose our family over hers? Trigger Warnings: emotional abuse and manipulation, job loss, mentions of abuse, body injury, seizures, fears of infidelity, mentions infidelity AITAH for asking my wife to choose our family over hers?: August 29, 2025 AITAH for asking my wife to choose our family over hers? I posted on here a bit ago about a situation when I sort of forced my way into a zoo trip my wife had planned with the kids, my parents, and my in-laws (see my previous post.)A lot of people thought I was the AH for doing that, even though that wasn’t the point of the post. But now, I’ve found myself in a similar situation and tried doing the opposite and it doesn’t seem to be working out any better. So, my wife has already told me that I am the AH in this situation, even if she didn’t use those exact words. And I know nothing Reddit has to say about it would change her mind (especially since I won’t/can’t tell her that I’m even posting about it) but I’m starting to question my own judgement a bit here, so maybe you all can set me straight. My wife and I are in the middle of a really rough patch in our marriage. We separated for six months and even when we ended the separation, the issues that caused it weren’t fixed. Long story short: I lost my job when she was pregnant, she asked me to move out, when I moved back in I was sleeping in the basement for quite a while, she’s refused any sort of physical contact, and we’ve just started marriage counseling (second session was last night.) And in MC, I’ve come to learn that her family more or less hates me. Or, at the very least, doesn’t trust me. Like not at all. During our MC session last night, our therapist said that it was important for us to start spending more time together, both as a family (two kids) and as a couple. My wife was resistant to the idea of ‘date nights’ so the counselor reframed it as ‘exposure therapy’. Basically, she said that neither of us will ever get past the barriers that have built up in our relationship if we continue to essentially live separate lives. My wife seemed to understand that and was fairly receptive to the idea, at least while we were in the counselor’s office. Which brings us to this weekend. In America, it’s a holiday weekend and our family has a long-standing tradition of spending the three-day weekend at my in-law’s camp on a lake. My SIL and her family come and most of my wife’s extended family pops in at least for an afternoon/evening or two, even if they don’t spend the night. Some of her and my SIL’s friends from high school usually drop by for a catch up, too and I know my wife has been trying to reconnect with friends in an effort to find an identity outside of just being a mom and a wife. But, given our current marital strife, the knowledge that my MIL has actively and repeatedly tried to convince my wife that we should not be together (which I’ve known about for barely a week), my new and growing worry that my mistakes are now a black cloud hanging over my relationships with all of my wife’s family and friends, and that due to space constraints, we’d not only have to share a room but also a bed, it seemed to me like heading to camp should be a no-go. My wife didn’t agree. In fact, fifteen minutes after we got home from our MC session last night, she started packing up for the weekend. But she was only packing for her and the kids. She didn’t come right out and say it, but it was pretty obvious (even to usually oblivious me) that the plan was for my family to go to the lake without me even though we’d just been told a little more than an hour before that we needed to spend time together. I tried pointing that out in as calm and as non-confrontational a way as I could, using the ‘I feel’ statements that our therapist suggested. I said to my wife: “I feel like this weekend is a really good opportunity for us to spend time together as a family and I really feel like if three-fourths of us go to camp, that isn’t just living separate lives but making a point of living separate lives.” At first, she thought I was trying to be included in the trip and go with her and the kids, much like I forced my way into the zoo trip. I quickly explained that no, that was one hundred percent not what I wanted (without even mentioning that being around my MIL for an entire weekend would have required my entire bottle of Xanax) and what I was hoping for was that she and the kids could stay home with me. There’s a whole bunch of picnic and BBQ and block party events going on in and around our neighborhood and I thought we could go to some of those and spend time as a family. In my head, starting off by doing something as a whole family instead of just as a couple would build in a buffer for her, would give me a chance to show that I can be a real partner in parenting, and would let her see me in what I know is my best light: as a dad. That was what I thought in my head but, apparently, my head and my wife’s head were not on the same page as she said no to that idea by saying: “I want to spend the weekend with my family.” One thing our therapist stressed repeatedly was that to have any chance at productive conversations, we both need to avoid any kind of escalation in our communication, which was probably because things escalated more than once during our latest session. So, I took a deep breath and did not point out that spending the weekend with me and the kids would be spending it with her family. And despite what many many many Redditors have said I should do, I didn’t lay out any ultimatums or ask her to cut back on contact with her family or suggest that she was planning some kind of lakeside hookup with some guy my MIL might better approve of. But this is when I might have been the AH (or definitely was, according to my wife). I tried sticking to the ‘I feel’ idea and told her that I felt like if she took the kids and went to camp without me, especially if she went less than a day after our counselor said we needed more time together, that she was making a choice and that choice was clearly not us. So, in her mind, for all intents and purposes: I gave her an ultimatum. Do you think she took that well and we were able to have a calm and productive and healthy conversation about it and maybe even come to some sort of compromise? Do you think I’d be posting this at almost midnight on the Friday of a holiday weekend because my blood pressure is through the roof and I can’t sleep if she did? She told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was an AH for laying that all on her, reminded me that it was my choices that got us here in the first place, stopped packing, and after making sure both kids were asleep, she went into our bedroom (which has been only her bedroom for the last year), shut the door and locked it. And now I have no idea if I’m going to wake up to my wife and kids waiting to hang out with me and spend the next three days together or if they’ll be on the road to camp before the sun is even up. I do know that she thinks I am absolutely the AH. And I kinda think she might be right. AITAH for telling my wife she was choosing her family over her family with me and the kids? AITAH has no consensus bot, OOP was NTA Relevant Comments OOP responds to a comment on his wife not understanding that her kids are also his as well. She shouldn't be separating her kids from their dad. OOP: I'll admit it - I was thinking a lot of this on Friday night after I posted. Spent most of the night getting increasingly pissed off which was sort of the opposite of what the counselor said I should be doing. I was ready for a fight. And then my wife actually came to me and offered a compromise and while I was still a bit angry, I did my best to see it as an olive branch and chose to take it instead of breaking it. We'll see where things go from here. Commenter: I’m very curious how much you helped with parenting, home maintenance and financial support to the kids during the separation. And why you haven’t agreed to your wife cutting back her hours like she desperately needs to? OOP: Until I got an actual job and not just PT work to keep some money coming in, she was the primary financial support. But when I got my current job, I was able to get back to contributing what I had before and, eventually, even more than I had. The entire time I wasn't living at home, every penny I made that I didn't have to spend on food or gas was put directly into our joint account and available for her to use for the house and the kids. I parented as much as possible, including picking my son up in the mornings and evenings. I took him to doctor's appointments and went to every baby-related appointment with my wife. I don't think she wanted me at all of them at first, but she's since told me that it reassured her that no matter the outcome for our marriage, I would still be fully present as a father. And not to be defensive or an AH, but I have to ask: why do you think she desperately needs to cut back her hours? But I'm the one working three jobs and cutting back on her hours would make that more of a permanent thing, rather than a get us back on stable ground thing. Just wondering why you think that's a desperate need.   Update #1: September 5, 2025 (one week later) Update: AITAH for asking my wife to choose our family over hers? I got a comment yesterday wondering if my silence was a positive or negative sign (it was a sign of a crazy week at work) so I thought I should take the chance to post an update today since I have a bit of time. You can see the specific incident I’m updating in my previous post and there’s a bunch of posts on my history from the sub I originally started posting on, if you want more background/context or reasons to question whether I have a spine. I mentioned in a comment reply to my last post that my wife actually woke me up early the morning after I had basically given her an ultimatum to choose between our family and her family. She wanted to talk before she and the kids left for my in-law’s camp. TBH, I was expecting it to be the ‘I’m not coming back’ or ‘we should get lawyers’ talk, but it wasn’t. To my surprise, my wife (I called her ‘Carrie’ on the other sub, so I will do so here, too) actually apologized. She said the comment about wanting to spend the weekend with “her family” had been out of line and intended to hurt me. She was pissed, annoyed at me because she knew I was kinda right about what I was saying, and she lashed out. It’s not the first time that’s happened so her explanation didn’t shock me that much. But she also said that she understood where I was coming from. If we want to fix things - and we’ve both said we do - then lashing out like that needs to stop and we do need to spend time together as a family. And she completely got why choosing to spend the entire weekend with her family, whose dislike for me had just become public knowledge, instead of being with me might have been upsetting for me. For a moment, I thought she was going to invite me to camp with her and I’m not gonna lie, I was panicking. I was worried that right after I’d more or less demanded she spend time with me, I was going to have to refuse an invitation to do exactly that. But there was no chance I was going to willingly spend three days with my MIL or SIL, particularly not after our last counseling session. Carrie didn’t invite me. Instead, she offered a compromise: she and the kids would go to camp Saturday and stay until midday Sunday, then come home and spend the rest of the weekend with me. There were some family members of hers who live out in California who would be there on Saturday and she doesn’t get to see them very often, so… That actually felt really fair to me and like Carrie was putting in an honest effort to try and meet me halfway, so I agreed. They left for camp that morning and came back on Sunday, as planned, and we had a really nice day and a half together. There was a block party kind of thing on Monday and we took the kids to that and I made sure to handle baby duty with our daughter as much as possible, to give Carrie a break. She seemed pretty appreciative of that and got to spend some time with a few of our neighbors that she’s struck up friendships with and introduced me to some of them who I hadn’t met yet. It was… nice. It felt normal, I guess. But as the day wore on and it got to be time to head back home, I started getting anxious. The kids were wiped and would clearly be heading straight to bed, which would leave me and Carrie alone for more than the hour or so we’d had on Sunday night. If we followed the counselor’s advice, we should spend that time together. I was under no illusion that spending time was going to result in any sort of spousal relations or anything like that, but there would have to be talking and I was concerned about what topic of conversation wouldn’t lead us to some sort of trouble. And it felt like maybe I was right when the first thing Carrie said was that she wanted to talk about the possibility of her having those “girls’ nights” with her mom and sister. We’d essentially punted on that topic during our last counseling session. Other things had come up that had escalated tensions and the therapist said we probably weren’t in the best place to make a good decision about any of it at that moment. But since she’d spent a day and a half with my MIL and SIL, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised it came back up. I was surprised that she offered another compromise: she didn’t have to cut her work hours down to part-time, she’d just have to adjust hours on other days so she could leave early on the girls’ nights days and come in late the following day. Apparently, she’d already cleared that with work and could start doing it whenever she wanted, even as soon as this week. She hadn’t been at work since our last session so it was obvious that she’d gotten all this “clearance” before we had even talked about it with the therapist. On the one hand, I could see how it was a compromise and seemed pretty fair, which was good. On the other hand, I felt sort of misled (not sure that’s the right word.) Like she had made the compromise about the weekend to soften me up for the possibility of agreeing to girls’ nights. I’ll say that that might be me being paranoid or overly suspicious and that’s probably a direct result of how many “she’s planning to cheat or already is” comments I’ve gotten here. But just because you’re paranoid, that doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you, right? I did my best to ignore the paranoia but also get to what was starting to worry me. I asked her flat out why having a weekly girls’ night with her mom and sister (something she’d never done before) was so important to her now, especially since both MIL and SIL are very actively against our marriage. I said I didn’t want to cut her off from them or prevent her from having some fun and an escape, but the idea of her spending an entire night out drinking and in situations where there’s a pretty high likelihood of venting/complaining about relationships with two people who might be inclined to encourage her worst instincts when it came to our relationship made me really anxious. I didn’t suggest that she might be using it as an opportunity to cheat; I didn’t even let on that the thought that she might find someone else had crossed my mind (or the minds of a lot of anonymous Redditors.) I stayed as far away from any of that as possible and tried to keep the conversation focused on my worries about her spending that much time with my MIL and SIL. Carrie said she understood. She said that was a reasonable concern, especially given all that she’d shared in our sessions about her mom’s feelings toward me. And she said that, normally, she’d probably give in and stay home and spend that time with me and the kids. But, she said: “My sister needs me, right now. Her husband left her.” Apparently, BIL left SIL the day after the family’s annual 4th of July party (my in-laws have way too many holiday get togethers) and my SIL is not taking it well. And when SIL doesn’t take something well, my MIL takes it worse and since BIL was the golden boy, the perfect son-in-law, the one I was always unfavorably compared to, there’s a lot of upset and anger and sadness and Carrie feels like she needs to spend time with her family to support her sister. She wants to help SIL navigate suddenly being a single parent and help her figure out if she can find a way to reconcile with BIL, and basically act like SIL’s conscience and keep her from making any bad choices while there’s still the possibility of saving her marriage. Bad choices like hooking up with some random dude at a bar during one of their girls’ nights. Which, as I found out last night in counseling, is exactly the reason BIL left her. She cheated on him. So, my wife is asking me to be OK with her spending nights out with her mother (who hates me) and her sister (who’s a cheater and hates me) and not feel any kind of way about all that. And even if I do, it doesn’t really matter as SIL needs her and Carrie’s already made it “all good” with work and in doing that she was “compromising” on what she really wanted and had asked for and that’s a good thing and a sign of progress for our own reconciliation and both Carrie and our therapist think if I can just see it in those terms, I’ll realize that there’s nothing to be worried or upset about. Which is how I got here. Writing an update to Reddit while my daughter is napping in her crib next to me and my wife is on her way to her mother’s house for girls’ night which got moved to Friday night thanks to the holiday, so she doesn’t even have to worry about work tomorrow. And I am just fine with that. Really. I’m totally, one hundred percent fine with it. I even told Carrie that on her way out the door. Go ahead, Reddit. Tell me I’m an idiot. An idiot trying to cling to any small steps in the right direction for his family, but still an idiot. I may update later on the other sub about the last two MC sessions because they were both a lot but this post was already a freaking novel. And I’m still processing everything I’ve heard from Carrie and the therapist. I’m slow when it comes to stuff like that. Let me know if anyone cares to hear about it, after you get done yelling at me in the comments. tl;dr: Wife and I compromised over holiday weekend plans. We spent time together as a family and it was good. She still wants girls' nights because her sister's husband just left her after she cheated on him during a night out. Relevant Comments OOP responds to a comment regarding his family background making him like he's the second best. And likely that his wife and her family is doing the same to him OOP: So, I spent most of the weekend offline trying to be present with my kids and my wife when she got back home. But I was also processing this comment. And I'll be honest: I didn't want to hear what you were saying and I didn't want to think about any of it potentially being true. And I really didn't want to consider the idea that the person who thinks the least of me is actually me. I might not have wanted to do all that or think about all that, but I did. It kind of ate at me and I did a much better job of hiding that than I did hiding my feelings at the job I lost (so, I've learned something) but when I was alone at night, I really couldn't hide it. I have no idea what I'm going to do next or what I want to do, but I do understand that what I've been doing is not sustainable or healthy. I have an appointment with my old individual therapist this week. I texted her last night, hoping for a response today but she replied almost immediately, She's squeezing me in for an emergency session. I got the feeling from what she said that she might have been expecting this to happen sooner or later. So, even though I didn't want to hear it and it hurt a lot, thank you for the comment. It gave me a push I didn't want to admit that I needed. Commenter: Man, when you have been starved for so long, even the tiniest crumbs feel like a feast. That's all this is. OOP: You have no idea. My son gave me a hug yesterday and then dragged my wife into it and it was the first physical contact in forever. Between that and her compromising on the weekend, I felt like it was an emotional Thanksgiving buffet.   Update #2: September 11, 2025 (six days later) Update 2: AITAH for asking my wife to choose between her family and ours Previous posts in my history. Can't get linking to work on mobile. Not the update I had planned for. I thought I was going to post about the revelations in marriage counseling and more about my own therapy session. And instead, I'm writing this while sitting in an uncomfortable pleather chair in the family lounge of our local children's hospital, where I've been for about the last twenty-four hours. Long story short - my son fell down the stairs in our house. At minimum, he broke his arm. I say at minimum because they've been evaluating him for head trauma and there are questions as to what caused the fall. We have very specific rules for the stairs with him. No socks or footie pj's. Always hold the railing. Go very slowly. And if mom or dad are there and not holding his sister, hold one of their hands. He was good on the first three. We even installed a second railing below the first one, at a more age appropriate height. He had a grip on it. But I was the only one home and was carrying his sister down the stairs, so he didn't take my hand. I don't know what happened, exactly. I've described it like twenty times to the doctors and to my wife. But it's still not entirely clear. He was down three steps and his foot was out to go down one more and then he just stopped. And then dropped. It was about six more steps to the bottom and I chased but couldn't get there and I think it was when he hit the landing that his arm broke. But he didn't even cry out. I called 9-1-1 and then my wife but had to leave her a voicemail and how the fuck do you leave that message without sounding like it's the end of the damn world? I don't even remember what I said. But then the ambulance was there and off we went to the hospital and here we've been since. My wife met us there a couple hours later which was after they'd given my son some children's painkillers and something to calm him down a bit (they told/explained them all to me but I don't remember fuck all except him crying) so at least she didn't have to see the worst of it. My in-laws and parents have both come by and my daughter is with my parents now. There was no drama like at the zoo as apparently we're all able to be adults when the kid is hurting. And no, before someone asks: my wife wasn't at girls’ night. She had a massive work event for all the offices in our region that was being held two hours away. She got back as quickly as she could. No one, including my wife or her mom or the doctors, has blamed me for what happened. The guilt is eating me alive, though. I should have been quicker. I should have been in front of him and not behind him. Hell, the only reason I'm even writing this is because my wife is in with him and she told me to take a break because she saw how bad it was getting for me. Like it or not, she still knows me pretty well. And I guess I just needed to see it in writing, on the screen, to see if it might make any more sense. It doesn't. I expect we're going to be here a while longer. I haven't slept since Wednesday night. I might crash in this awful chair and try to shut off my brain. Or I might respond to the msgs in my inbox that I haven't gotten to. With my family not here and Ellie off on her final family camping trip of the season, y'all are about the only people I've got to talk to when I take a mental health break. I'll update when I can. Hopefully, it will be less busted arms and head trauma and more SIL cheated and it's all BIL's fault. tl;dr: son fell down the stairs. Broken arm and maybe head trauma. Family all came to the hospital. No drama ensued. I'm feeling guilty as hell. EDIT: We're being released today. He's in good spirits and excited to have everyone sign his cast. And he's already bonked me in the head with it twice. Thank you everyone for all the supportive msgs! Relevant Comments OOP should check in with the doctors about getting EKG for his son about the possible seizures OOP: My very basic WebMD search while I was waiting in the hospital led me to the same conclusion and, as it turns out, the actual doctors think so, too. We'll be seeing a neurologist soon, though we did meet with a neuro attending in the hospital who was less than helpful. + It was a seizure. I believe the term is an 'absence seizure'. He's had three more of them since the stairs. It isn't clear yet if this is a permanent thing or something he is going to outgrow. So far, he hasn't had them in any kind of dangerous situation since that first one. Commenter 2: Accidents happen unfortunately. You can't blame yourself. You have rules to make sure he stays safe. (Maybe add parents walk in front if he's walking alone.) But there is only so much you can do. Things will happen outside of your control. There was no way you could have got him carrying his sister in your arms and being higher up than him. Try to redirect your guilt. Two more things, the first being I agree with the other comment that suggested this sounds like he could have had a seizure given what you described. Please ask for a consult with a neurologist and explain what happened. Second, be prepared for a CPS visit. It's standard procedure. They will come visit and make sure the home is safe then close the case and be on their way. Don't freak out. Just make sure things at home are in order. Please update us again later on. OOP: A social worker (not sure if she was connected to CPS) spoke with us in the hospital. She did say that it was just routine and that my son's injuries were consistent with a fall and not some sort of abuse. She spoke with my wife and I together and separately and I obviously can't know for sure what Carrie said during their individual conversation, I do know that in the joint discussion she made it very clear that she did not think I had done anything and that it could have just as easily happened when she was watching him. Commenter 3: Good luck to you all. Kids heal from broken bones and head injuries. I've dealt with both, and I'm purple square raccoon. Seriously, you did exactly what you are supposed to do. You called the emergency line. You called your wife. You took care of your children. Call out of your jobs and try and get some rest. OOP: My son is already the toughest kid I know. He's handled this way better than either of his parents. And I actually took a full leave of absence from job #3. It's only for a few weeks but I felt like I had to. I told my wife I was doing it and it wasn't up for negotiation. Turns out that I didn't have to be so firm about it as she was already planning to ask me to do it. We'll see what happens in a few weeks but for now, I have more time to spend with both my kids. OOP did the right thing, by calling the proper authorities and then calling his wife about their son's situation OOP: Calling my wife and leaving the msg was stressful but she told me that the way I stayed calm really helped her not lose it. And she actually said that I handled the whole thing better than she would have. I'm holding onto that when my intrusive thoughts get too loud.   Latest Update here: BoRU #2   DO NOT COMMENT IN LINKED POSTS OR MESSAGE OOPs – BoRU Rule #7 THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT OOP submitted by /u/Choice_Evidence1983 to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

This camping trip took place in Ontario, Canada at Samuel de Champlain Provincial Park. I, 26F, went for a camping weekend with my sister, Risa 32F, her husband, Rick 31M, their two dogs, Peach 3F (Chihuahua mix) & Bowser 6M (Boston Terrier), and my brother, Gabe 28M. Risa and Rick have come to love camping in the past few years and have been wanting to get us to join them for a while. We decided this year would be the time we get to have our sibling trip together. My boyfriend, Wayne 25M, was unable to come because he had plans for the weekend that he could not get out of. We wanted to bring his dog, Eeyore 3M (Golden Lab cross), but Wayne wanted to be present for Eeyore's first camping experience. That was fair, so it was just four of us and the two dogs. Gabe just turned 28 on Thursday, and we drove over to the campsite on Friday after work. Risa and Rick went earlier during the day with the dogs as they had the day off and wanted to set up for all of us while there was still light out. We all live in the GTA so our drive time was about 4 hours, but with Friday rush hour traffic, it became about five hours. Once we got out of the city, the drive wasn't too bad with the scenery and open roads for the most part. I was double caffeinated because I procrastinated packing and only had 4 hours of sleep before a full work day and long drive, so I had to make sure I wouldn't fall asleep (shout out Yerba Maté). We listened to Smosh reading Reddit stories on their podcast so it was pretty enjoyable and made the trip an easy one. We got to our campsite around 8:15pm and we coordinated with Risa and Rick to find where they were set up. They had sent us photos and directions beforehand so it was easy to follow where to go. There were some long, winding, and at times narrow, dirt roads that led us to the campsite. We had to cross a small wooden bridge and saw some river rapids on the way. There were several clusters of tall, slim, 60-80ft pine trees all around the park with paths in between for vehicles to drive on and campers to walk through. After a few turns, we made it to our spot which was beside other campsites that had people staying there as well. Risa and Rick secured a perfect spot by the water, which happened to be the neighbouring spot of their campsite from last year. There were just enough trees to surround us and help us set up tarps, a fire pit for our mandatory campfires, a picnic table for our meals, and some big rocks off to the side perfect to place our hand and dishwashing station. Risa and Rick had basically set up everything for us at that point since we sent our tent over with them, so it was just some last minute finishing details to make our area perfect. Gabe was teasing me saying I had a lot of stuff that filled up our car, but he didn’t realize I was packing for both of us. He can be a bit too chill sometimes when it comes to planning and packing things, so I brought extra items which I suspected he may have forgotten to bring. So like the little sister I am, I decided to tease him back. "Did you bring a towel?" "...no" "Did you bring a toothbrush?" "...no" "Did you bring a blanket?" "I brought a sleeping bag." These were some of the items I had packed in case for him and he sheepishly thanked me. He was ready to go bare minimum for this trip but I wanted him to be comfortable too, so I got him an air mattress, a bedsheet, and a thick blanket to make sure he had some extra layers to stay warm if the nights got chilly. Then of course, we have a mother who loves Costco and has had a big family all of her life, so you can imagine how much food she snuck into our car. But we all love and appreciate each other and have a good laugh at all the ways we show up for one other. Our system was to try to keep things to each other's cars just so it would make packing easier and more efficient if we only had to coordinate with one other person instead of between all four of us. And it was between two households so it made sense. Though we all shared whatever we brought and whatever was needed with each other the whole time. So we had separate meals planned and we tried to do the cooking for our respective pairs for simplicity's sake. We prepped and had dinner after setup was complete and then had some time around the campfire with toasted marshmallows. Our night didn’t drag on too long as we were all tired from the traveling so we quickly tucked in for the night afterwards. It was pretty chilly so good thing we all had extra layers, and overall it was a wonderful first night to kick off my first time camping. The next morning was pretty relaxed as we didn’t have a set itinerary for the day. We understood each other's individual needs for sleep and we all woke up at different times. Our day started off with lounging around in the chairs and hammock with our hot drinks to jumpstart ourselves and then we cooked our breakfasts. After Rick finished eating at about 9:30-10am, he started to inflate their new boat and kayak. He had been keeping an eye out on the weather forecast and saw that rain was expected to start around 2pm so it was now or never to get onto the water. We finished off our food, helped finish the set ups for boating time, got changed, and headed out to the water. Risa, Rick and the dogs were in the new, bigger boat, and Gabe and I borrowed their kayak. We all got into the water and started exploring the area, sticking close together. Peach is a complete camp princess and thoroughly enjoyed lounging by the edge of the boat with the wind in her face as her parents did all the hard work behind her to make her experience perfect. Bowser is a bit more rambunctious and loves to swim so he had a harder time sitting still. He's used to only being on one boat with his parents so it was extremely exciting that his aunt and uncle were in another boat beside him. Bowser treated the situation as the Floor Is Lava and made it his mission to jump from boat to boat to boat to boat as a game. He'll swallow a lot of water from swimming too much and breathing becomes difficult so we kept it minimal while allowing him to have his fun. The water was relatively calm and easy to paddle on, though I do owe a lot of that to Gabe. His strength is unbelievable and made my rowing a breeze. We glided through the water and explored as much as we could. There was an area with the fast rapids that we made sure to avoid because that would be an extremely difficult situation to get out of. After about an hour of water fun, we all decided to call it and dock our boats because we were a little tired. Once we were back to our site, we started putting the tarps up in preparation for the rain. Regardless of if it was going to be a light drizzle or heavy rainfall, we wanted to set ourselves up to be as dry and covered as possible. The winds started picking up as we were putting the tarps up and the pegs I was digging into the ground were not staying put at first. Often times we had to help each other out to make sure ropes were tightened enough and there was just enough tension or slack in the tarps to cover our tents and main areas without directing rain to drip on our tents or pool in sections. It was a lot of hard work but we managed to get things in place to provide adequate shelter for our space. As expected, the rain started at 2pm and would be on and off from sprinkles to showers. We decided to have lunch afterwards and when the rain settled down or came to a stop, we started up the campfire for some afternoon s’mores. We had time to relax, digest, take showers and then nap. A bigger storm was expected later between 8-9pm so we took the chance to do what we needed to do before it came. After some time, the winds became strong again and were wearing down the grommets of a few of the tarps, so Risa, Rick and Gabe went to fix it up. I was pretty tired still and continued with my nap. Soon after, Gabe returned to the tent and I rested some more before going out to check what else we needed to do. We packed up most of the stuff to put into the car so that almost everything could be protected from the rain during the storm. I grabbed a few snacks to bring to the tent in case we got hungry. Since we had a late lunch, none of us were wanting to cook and eat dinner yet and decided we’d probably try after the storm subsides. We headed into our tents to chill and stay dry. The skies got really dark and the gusts of winds were rattling everything outside. It didn’t take long for the rain to start up and become a heavy downpour. There were globs of water that were so big and hitting the tent with such force that it honestly sounded like gunshots. In addition, we heard branches snapping and the tent walls of fabric were blowing side to side like a sail out at sea so it was hard to feel calm. All of a sudden, we heard Rick yell “Car!” in complete panic. Gabe and I immediately jumped on to our feet and scrambled to get out the tent. I grabbed my phone and water bottle as I assumed we would be using the cars as shelter because it was much safer. But I couldn’t spot the keys anywhere. I knew I just had it and put it down somewhere but with all the nerves and shaking I couldn’t remember where. It was freaking me out thinking that I might be the reason why the two of us wouldn’t get to the car in time. Finally, I spotted them, picked it up and ran out the tent. I could see Risa and Rick sprinting to their cars with the dog crates in their hands as I jumped into the driver’s seat of our car. I looked back and saw that Gabe was standing under the tarp by our picnic table and holding it up with his hands. I motioned for him to get inside the car quickly and he immediately sprinted over to the passenger side. We both closed our doors shut and the next second, in front of us through the windshield, all we saw were the tall pine trees falling like dominoes in our direction. Bang, bang, bang. I screamed with each hit with my hands on my ears and head as if to cover and protect it somehow, and leaned towards Gabe who held me tight and repeated that I’m okay and he’s got me. Several trees crashed down onto us shattering the windshield bit by bit. The view in front of us that was once blocked by rows and clusters of trees were now a clear view of the sky. The signal on our phones cut out. I was only expecting to be hit by lightning in the car and that it would be the worst thing that was possible. Never would I have ever imagined something like this. Millions of thoughts raced through our heads in that moment. Is there more coming our way? How are Risa, Rick and the dogs? How are our neighbours? They were in their tents, weren’t they? What do we do now? How do we get out? How are we going to get any sort of contact with anyone? Is anyone going to be able to help us in time? How long is this storm going to last? Is it going to get way worse? Is this where we die? At that point, all of our emotions were completely mixed. We were terrified, anxious, stressed, but in a way also oddly calm knowing that there likely won’t be more trees to hit us now that everything has fallen and we can see in front that there’s no more. The signal cutoff only lasted a few minutes and we were very lucky that we had it back even if it was on and off. Risa called us right away and we were able to confirm with each other that all of us were overall okay, aside from small cuts from flying glass pieces. Rick had a more serious injury when their sunroof broke on top of them and cut part of his forehead, got glass in his ear and he swallowed some smaller pieces. We had a quick game plan to try and stay as calm as possible and they would call 911 and my parents to inform them. Gabe and I also made our own call to 911 to cover our bases and in case one of us had better chances of getting through given the issues with signal. We were on hold for a bit when our call went out to 911. We gave them all the information about who we were and where, what happened, and that we were stuck in our cars crushed by loads of pine trees. They informed us that a flood of calls had been coming in to them from the park and area and emergency services were on their way. We knew we would be less priority as they needed to try and locate any others who had been severely injured and desperately needed assistance. That was no issue to us and there was a sigh of a relief knowing that our location was known and people would be trying to get to us asap. We understood that they’d try to come as fast as they could but given the circumstances it could be difficult and take a long time. Now it was a waiting game while preserving battery, staying warm, and safe in any and all ways. submitted by /u/TryingMyBest255 to r/camping [link] [comments]

——Edit: OOP deleted her posts and comments so a few links are currently broken. Mod replies at the bottom—— Subreddit background /r/femalelivingspace is a subreddit for users to share their apartment or home layouts in a safe space. It is assumed that every poster is a woman and is sharing their own images, not those of others or AI generated ones. This is important. OP’s post OP decides to share her minimalistic layout of her home: I like watching sunsets and storms from my lair The TV is decorative [Three separate images of OP’s layout include a living area with a TV low to the ground, her cat lounging on the wood floor next to a fancy white chair, and an evening picture showing the town outside. Archived image 1] There are no negative comments of note other than jabs that the TV needs to be at a more comfortable height, however, a mod decides to lock this post, commenting and stickying the following: Mod: No impersonation of another persons property or space. You are bad and should feel bad OP’s second post OP makes a new post about 20 hours later, and makes sure she holds a piece of paper in the picture to show it’s her living space, and not anyone else’s: I posted photos of my home and mod accused me of impersonation lol They even told me I should feel bad 😂 [The image shared is her living area but you can see her holding up the piece of paper that has her reddit username on it (like people in /r/ama do) Despite this proof, the mod removes her post, once again commenting and stickying their reply: Mod: Your post was removed because it was low effort content, such as a meme, reaction image or an unrelated picture of a living space. This is an interior design sub. Please refer to our rules. Thank you for participating in our community! Community confusion Sub users who read all of OP’s posts are baffled and not sure what’s going on. Post 1 What in the world is going on with the mod team?? So to review: -A poster shared a photo of her space -A mod removed the post, accusing her of “impersonation of another person’s space” and saying “you are bad and should feel bad” (!!!) -So, OP reposted a pic of her space with proof that it’s her own, the same way people verify AMAs - she held up a slip of paper w/ her Reddit username in the pic of the room -Mod removed THAT post too by claiming the post was “low effort content, such as a meme, reaction image or unrelated image of a living space” (which it wasn’t) Jesus Christ just let this poster share an image of her space and stop with this weird power trip, mod team. She didn’t do anything wrong and this is getting bizarre Post 2 Unfair Mod Does anyone know if the situation with the mod accusing someone of posting a false space got taken care of? I saw a post asking about it but it's now locked..... I really loved this sub but I don't want to be apart of a space where girls are hating on one another. OP posts to her user space If you didn’t actually know, you can post to your self page, which doesn’t show up in any subreddits. OP, still not being able to share her space to /r/femalelivingspace, makes 2 posts here: Post 1 I guess I hurt mod’s feelings [Screenshot image of her second post with the paper piece in it removed by the mod] Post 2 lol now my post is marked as “targeted harassment of someone else” Maybe low effort mods should stop harassing me and gaslight other people [Screenshot shows a reddit note that says, “It’s targeted harassment at someone else”] Mod does damage control A possibly different mod comes in and unlocks OP’s first post, removing the “you should feel bad” mod comment and stickying their own: Mod: Thread Unlocked. We apologize-- this post got many comments asking that it was AI. Typically when that happens (a million reports on a thread), at least I tend to fire from the hip due to the amount of reports just because its better to quarantine before I know what's happening, and then unlock later after cleanup. However, this time I'm not clear on the details of what happened here, but at minimum I would like to issue an apology for how the message was delivered!! OP: Your apology is accepted and I thank you for being accountable. However, I really think that comment “you are a bad person and you should feel bad” was unnecessary and does not foster a safe environment. If it was a bot comment, it should be changed. The two community posts are now both locked, with Post 2 having a stickied comment by the mod: Mod: Hi [username] I've locked your thread only to curb more activity so that I can sit and read everything one by one when I get home later today. I hear your concerns! The thread was reopened by the same mod who initially locked it shortly after, and I removed the offending post! We apologize for the phrasing in that post and I'm sure it wont happen again. Our mod team is quite small and we do our best, but in the future I hope to add more members to support the sheer size of this community. Please have patience for us during this time!! xoxo Singular takes The first rule of this sub is “Above all, be kind”. It’s ok for the mods to acknowledge, apologize, and move on. But something needs to be said, or this sub will lose folks (including me). cmon, reddit mods dont just go on "power trips" [massively downvoted] They’re salty they don’t have a sweet space like her 😆 Where’s the apology in general?? There is no accountability here. Full thread with OP’s original post here Reminder not to comment in these threads! —————— Edit: small formatting Edit 2: A new user posts their living space with a tongue in cheek title: Sharing my previous living space before it’s accused of being impersonation This is my old apartment from Covid times and graduate school. Mods, please don’t accuse me of stealing it. For anyone else confused by the recent drama, here's the Admin report link: [link]. Stay cozy! The mod who posted the apology comment before stickies their response in this thread: Mod: Hey! This is an adorable space! Looks pretty real to me! As a side note, I'm not typically too online so I'm not really sure how to phrase this, but I am trying to get ahold on things and more posts referring to the situation continues to make it hard for me to both grasp what's going on and to clean up any offending ends. If you feel like you gotta report please do so, but-- and I truly don't know what's like, a more 'mod appropriate' way to ask this-- but can you chill out? reposting the same message all the time will get caught in the auto-spam filters, and continuing to bring attention to an issue that I've made multiple comments saying I'm trying to take care of it feels a little pointed! I am trying! Edit 3: Another user makes a post asking why posts are getting locked for voicing criticism: Power tripping mods What the actual fuck is going on with these moderators? Constantly blocking comments and removing posts on any sort of criticism. This post is 100% gonna be removed, and WHY?! Its a subreddit about women's interior design, why act like this? Mods are being weird and for what? Get a life and touch grass, im begging The post is locked and the mod has the only comment: Mod: Hii! I am trying to handle it!! please stop making more posts because I am only one person!!! Thank you!! Edit 4: OOP seems to have deleted her account so her pictures and comments in the threads are no longer visible Edit 5: Here is a google image link archive of OOP’s pictures Edit 6: New archive link here Edit 8: The mod commented in this very thread, seeming to blame SRD for receiving harassment Edit 9: A few hours ago another mod from the subreddit has commented 3 times admitting to removing and locking OOP’s first post: Mod 2: Hey I was the mod that removed and then approved that post. It was removed due to seeing a similar picture on another SM but after seeing OP post another angle, I approved the post. We receive a lot of bot activity here and stolen posts so I reacted a bit harshly. Also the not “you should feel bad” is an automatic response, not something I added. Sorry to the OP, I’ve been irritated by the recent uptick of bots and stolen content [downvoted] Other two comments here and here Edit 10: Mod 1 made a new lengthy post that they will: 1.) not be removing the offending mod, 2.) be having a meeting with the other 2 mods, and 3.) be accepting mod applications soon after submitted by /u/Teal_is_orange to r/SubredditDrama [link] [comments]

First | Previous | Next Patreon | Official Subreddit | Series Wiki | Royal Road The Trasgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Betreyan’s Hall. Local Time: 2200 Hours. Vanavan Few places existed that granted me the peace of mind, strength of confidence, and sense of security that should have come naturally to a man of my station and pedigree. Fewer still did such places exist in public spaces, let alone rooms intended for the audience of many. Betreyan’s Hall was perhaps the one and only such instance where the particularities of fate aligned precisely enough to fulfil these three sensibilities. For the Hall was the ultimate expression of my newfound life — an identity forged by my own two hands away from the circumstances of my heritage and upbringing. Yet all of that changed today. For today, I found my sanctuary assaulted, assailed, and deconstructed to its core by the arrival of an individual I’d first met through ink and quill from this very room. The armored woman arrived with the uninvited air of Mal’tory’s intrusiveness, the authoritative aura of the Dean, and the finesse and fiery spirit of Chiska. Her presence inspired an instinctive fear that burned within the heart of all nobles, especially as one’s eyes landed on the coat of arms present on her armor. I felt my defenses fall, wall by uneven wall, as she walked down those steps and towards my desk. “I concur, Professor Vanavan.” Captain Frital announced abruptly, her steely eyes having hooked my gaze into its reel. “Your… blue knight, is most certainly befitting of the first descriptor you assigned her.” The golden-haired elf paused, coming to a stop a single pace from my desk, her figure towering over my seated form. “Exceptional, in more ways than one.” “I-indeed she is, Captain Frital.” I managed out politely before gesturing to a chair I carefully levitated towards her. “And might I say, what an unexpected yet pleasant visit! Please, allow me.” I quickly set down the chair in front of the desk. However, instead of eliciting a polite smile or a semblance of reciprocal courtesy, I was rebuffed; the armored woman chose instead to stare disinterestedly at the chair before returning her gaze squarely towards me. “She is sharp, and impressively resilient. Indeed, I can imagine her resilience serves her quite well on and off the training grounds.” The Captain spoke casually… far too casually… especially for the thinly veiled allusions which sent my mind into a frenzy. She couldn’t have. We covered all loose ends at the warehouse. There were no witnesses, and she told no one. Unless— “She truly is the perfect candidate for the Quest for the Everblooming Blossom.” The goldthorn promptly continued, studying, inspecting, and dissecting every minor emotive shift in my visage as if each was an article of confession in and of itself. “Yes. I can imagine the skills she has demonstrated on the field of sport will translate quite well into the rigors of prime adventuring. A rather audacious undertaking for a newrealmer, but she’s demonstrated her ambition several times over now, if I do say so myself.” I offered politely, providing no crumb nor quarter to the goldthorn. “Indeed. And quite the ambitious spirit she is.” The Captain continued ominously. “Did you know she has quite the interest in flight?” That question prompted me to narrow my eyes, my mind wracking itself to determine exactly where she was going with this. “I can’t honestly say, Captain. I don’t remember mentioning such a specific interest in my reports.” “No, you have not.” The captain replied bluntly. “But I’ve had the unexpected pleasure of meeting her myself earlier this week.” My heart clenched once more as I tried everything I could not to show signs of anything other than polite interest. “Oh? I had thought your affairs would have taken you off the path of most students, Captain.” I countered. “It just so happens that your Blue Knight was wandering where most students were not expected to be, Professor.” She sniped back, her eyes not once releasing its grip on my gaze. “The Apprentices’ Tower, to be precise.” She just as quickly added, once more testing me, prying me for a reaction. “She claimed to be there for some… extracurricular discussions of something or other — a flying club, if I recall.” “Ah.” Was my only response. That and the thin smile I wore. “Well, I presume she must have had an appointment with one of our eager apprentices. The flying club does have quite the reputation for attracting newrealmers, after all! Especially given how the dream of flight seems to be quite universal amidst sapients. The Transgracian Academy is, after all, the place where the most flighty of adjacent dreams come to life.” “It’s in rare instances such as those that I am reminded of exactly why you left the crownlands, Lord Vanavan. For life here is just far, far more accommodating to the pastoral and bucolic mind.” The captain continued on a new trajectory, one that I was nervous to follow. “I perhaps owe you an apology for my presence, as it no doubt disrupts such an idyllic life. Alas, if things continue on their current trajectory, I cannot guarantee that the conclusion of this investigation will mark a definitive end to this unprecedented chapter in the Academy’s history.” The inner guardswoman paused, her form tensing as if out of some mixed sense of pity and genuine concern. “We find ourselves in… interesting times, Professor Vanavan.” I shuddered, as that word carried with it far-reaching implications, the likes of which many others would’ve completely disregarded. For uneventfulness was perhaps the strongest measure of the Academy’s successes, save for those rare few times where eventful happenings were triggered at the behest of the Crown. … My heart skipped a beat as my eyes widened. This break in my otherwise calm and composed body language prompted the Captain to raise a brow, as if she was finally reeling in her catch by the act of mere sight alone. “Interesting, but not of my choice nor insistence, Captain.” I replied, ensuring I cemented my place and stance on this topic before it had a chance to become twisted and spun at the hands of the web weaver. A small moment of restrained pause soon loomed over us, as the Captain regarded my words with a twinge of darkened interest. “No, of course not.” She responded soon after. “Though I wonder… if not you, then who?” I raised a brow at that question and the unexpected trajectory the conversation had taken. “I’m afraid I don’t follow, Captain. The decision came from above, as is decreed.” I offered, causing the woman’s piqued interest to soon devolve into one of disappointment. “Have your social muscles atrophied at the behest of dusty Academia, or are you simply playing a fool, Lord Vanavan?” The aggression was palpable, though not immediately obvious to any who might be listening. To the untrained ear, there was naught but a slight gap in civility, evidenced by a slight clip of her tone of voice. However, to those at the highest rungs, this was a warning — a test by any other name. “No, Captain.” I decided to stand my ground for once. “You should know that the blue-robed offices hold little in the realm of weight of both tangible influence and palpable authority. My place is that of the facilitator of the Academy’s stated aims. Nothing more, and nothing less. I willingly left the court life behind for such a role — embracing Academia for Academia’s sake.” I leveled my eyes at the Captain, calling on every ounce of strength in me not to flinch. “The decision and responsibility of this Newrealm induction was never once within my purview.” “Of course it isn’t.” The Captain responded tersely, letting nary a moment of silence to form between my rebuttal and her remarks. “But I find it difficult to imagine you never once overheard the whispers and echoes, especially when this induction marks the greatest shift against the status quo in the decades of your career. The webway between the Crown and the Academy is a long, long scroll of correspondence after all… an open scroll, for a man of your position.” “As I have stated, Captain — I am merely a facilitator, not a decision nor policy maker… and most certainly not a would-be court moth or snoop-quill. You would imagine such a thing would be completely antithetical for a man who left the politics of court life behind, no?” A narrowing of eyes and a questioning gaze was my first response, followed closely in tow by a tapping of the Captain’s fingers against her armor. “Though I wish to pose a question to you, Captain.” I began, as echoes from my past forced my tongue towards a path long untread — one of control and confrontation. “Are these questions truly pertinent to your investigations over the unfortunate demise of Lord Lartia, or are they questions born of your own unrelated, personal curiosities?” This ultimatum elicited the expected response as Frital’s features stiffened, her hand gripping her saber tightly in the process. “Are you questioning the integrity of my investigation, Professor Vanavan?” “If integrity is measured by the pertinence of one’s questions to the topic at hand, then yes.” I responded bluntly, channeling a confidence I thought I’d lost years ago. “My rights afford me such questions as points of clarification, no?” I added snappily with a cock of my head. The goldthorn remained unfazed, her expression unreadable, as we found ourselves locked in a battle of a thousand stares. However, neither of us yielded. Not even after a full minute of stoic posturing. As expected, it was Frital who broke the silence. Though the way she did so proved more perplexing than the contents of the entire conversation thus far. “I see there is some fight in you yet, Lord Vanavan.” She offered with a twisted smile. “Consider my line of questioning… stricken from written record.” She continued as she brought out a notepad, erasing much of the annotated text with a simple wave of her hand. However, I wasn’t satisfied. “And off the record?” I urged strongly. “You may hear more of it, willingly or not, in due time.” The crown chaser spoke ominously, before turning her heels sharply towards the exit. However, just before leaving the room, she once more glanced in my direction, poised for one final exchange. “The investigation will soon enter its next phase. I do hope you have your witnesses and oath-bearers ready by then.” “Of course, Captain. I appreciate the forewarning.” The Captain dipped her head, signalling the official ‘end’ to this back-and-forth. Which made her next few words all the more worrying. “Your time as a dusty Academician is soon to be tested, Vanavan. Take that as you will.” The Next Day The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. The Hall of Champions. Local Time: 1000 Hours Auris Ping “Get. Up.” I spoke slowly, enunciating and allowing each and every word to convey the disparaging contempt I had for the noble that laid at my feet. The antlered and hoofed Lorsi merely squirmed at that command, refusing to put in the effort that I otherwise had. “You haven’t experienced a fraction of what that newrealmer has inflicted upon me.” I continued, moving to gently push the squirming cervinrealmer over, revealing his disgustingly exhausted visage. “Is this all you have to offer me?” I practically spat out, shaking my head as I did so. “Fine. No more fights, no more training—” I offered through a faux kindness, causing a hopeful twinkle to form in the man’s eyes. A twinkle that was snuffed out as quickly as it’d formed, as I placed a single foot on the man’s chest. “—provided you can escape this simple predicament.” I could feel the smaller man’s chest heaving against the force of my foot, each inhale feeling like a weak attempt at inflating a soft, squishy balloon. It reinforced my disgust at the lithe would-be noble’s capabilities. Moreover, it made me sincerely doubt his capacity to truly deliver on the grandiose promises he made on that very first day. … “And what do you have to offer this peer group, Lord Lorsi?” “Aside from my deep pockets, vast connections, and stunning looks?” The cervinrealmer boasted, twirling his body around so as to flutter the cape, scarf, and frock coat he’d worn to the Academy. “There’s also my inherent abilities and strengths, Lord Ping.” “I require true strength, not mere competency over magic. Magical acumen is a prerequisite, not a distinction nor a merit worth noting in my group.” “True strength is what ye shall receive, Lord Ping.” The man smiled, carving out the most prideful sneer I’d seen on a fellow adjacent realmer thus far. “I have a counter for everything the most brutish of brutes can offer. I am the epitome of Cervinrealm exceptionalism. I am, after all, a son of House Lorsi. And we Lorsi do not shy away from challenges.” … “Hmmph.” I huffed out. “Is this truly all a Lorsi is capable of?” I chided, momentarily increasing the force of my heel, forcing the man’s breath out to a series of strained, wheezing coughs. “Is this really what I have to put up with?” However, instead of pushing even further, I rescinded my assault, choosing instead to merely rest my foot atop of the man’s chest, as even this was a struggle for the man to counter. “Answer me, Lord Lorsi! Is this truly all you bring to our group?!” I shouted, channeling the frustration, rage, and complete and utter vitriol that perhaps wasn’t entirely the fault of the cervinrealmer’s. That prompting seemed to elicit something within the noble, as he began squirming harder, kicking, punching, and flailing against the ground and my foot in equal measures. Though frankly, these reinvigorated efforts came across less as gallant and far more as pathetic. As Vicini ended up looking less like a hero making his valiant final stand and more like a rabid animal attempting to flee certain death. I allowed this to continue. First for a few seconds, then for a full minute, until all the man had left was his breath. It was around that point that I finally removed my foot, releasing the pathetic noble to his devices, as I now turned to the shattered earth around us — the results of an hour’s worth of practice and training. “Physical… acumen… is not my strong suit, Lord Ping.” I finally heard the man speak, his ragged breaths coinciding with several shifts in the manastreams as he used his magic to regain some composure in his now-disheveled state. “Physical prowess, as disgusting as it is, must be tolerated if only for its practical ends.” I began, refusing to make eye contact as I merely marched forward, grabbing one of the hundreds of vines the cervinrealmer had uprooted during our grand spar. “You are a talented druid, that I will admit.” I acknowledged in a rare display of grace, causing even Lorsi to perk in response at this one and only compliment bestowed upon him in the span of days. “But even you must realize that this mastery has its limits.” “I am certain we won’t be entering a situation wherein physical prowess is a point of practical concern, Lord Ping.” Vicini offered sincerely, taking a moment to inspect his antlers as he did so. “Have you not been following the newrealmer’s saga, Lorsi? Have you not seen what sorts of brutish indifference we must actively counter?” I scolded. “If I may be frank, Lord Ping… I believe she has become your one-eyed abyssal.” I cocked my head curiously at the man’s response, prompting Lorsi to let out a dismissive sigh. “Larnsia Crick and the Hunt for the Great Leviathan? Heresy on the Thousand Seas? The Life and Tales of Tenelan Riroria? Lord Ping… you are currently hunting your own shadow, chasing your own ego, and risking the lives of both crew and livelihood in the process.” Vicini’s words spurred on the opposite of what he was hoping, as I felt an ember turn into infernal flames within a matter of seconds. I let out a breath, taking a few steps towards the lithe gentleman and allowing my shadow to envelope him. “You spend too much time within written fantasies, holed up in your libraries, and too little time in the real world.” I began with a menacing breath. “Your shortsightedness is at times endearing, and sometimes even entertaining, but at this juncture… I find it to be intolerable. It is honestly ironic how I must direct a druid to, as the saying goes — rekindle one’s contact with the dirt and grass of the world outside the palace walls.” “Lord Ping… I was merely suggesting that we shift our focus to more fruitful ventures as this newrealmer is simply not worth—” “She is worth it!” I stomped my foot hard, causing the earth around us to shudder and shake. “The newrealmer has turned herself into a phenomenon. This is no longer about mastery over her or her realm, but the social implications that conquering such a phenomenon would incur.” I paused, before letting out a grin. “Or have you not heard of the Lililin Spirit, Lord Lorsi? I’d take it that a man of your bookishness would have come across such a concept?” “Y-yes, I have.” “Well then, now you know why I must do what I must. For the social fabric of society is like a spirit, one which we manifest collectively. This spirit can be overcome, overrun, or tainted by current affairs. And what better way to take hold of said spirit, than to wrestle control of its greatest novelty currently enrapturing it.” We stood at an impasse, my form towering over his, as the man ultimately relented with a sullen sigh. “As you wish, Lord Ping.” Nexus. The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Porter and Porter’s Porter Services. Local Time: 1200 Hours. Cynthis Mena “Your obsession over that flea-ridden usurper escapes me, Princess Mena.” Talia dismissed tiredly, lazing over a lounge chair as we awaited the arrival of our guides. “I admit, I had assumed this to be about the thrill of the chase. An easy hunt turned difficult… but your perseverance over such an undeserving suitor proves otherwise…” Yartis doubled down, turning over to Talia as the pampering of our toes, shoulders, and feet continued at the hands of adjacents and nexian commoners alike. “You two need to relax!” Cerla countered with a lackadaisical yawn, moving to sample one of the many delicate small treats laid out beside her. “Let Princess Mena have her interests, her haunts, her obsessions and personal desires. Academics are as dull as they come… why not spice up life with the excitement of court politics, hmm?” Eventually, all three eyes turned to me, prompting me to sigh deeply, before turning to all commoners present, demanding of them that which was typical for the rabble — the removal of hearing by means of cotton wads, earmuffs, and whatever they had available. “As always, ladies… each of you wields a fragment of the truth, but are oh-so woefully incapable of weaving it into a coherent tapestry.” I scolded softly, raising my fingers to my now-earmuffed attendant. “Prince Thalmin Havenbrock has indeed become a point of great interest, for many of the reasons you each have pointed out.” I smiled teasingly, shuddering at each and every careful scrape of the nail file. “However, there exists another… fascination I have over the prince.” All eyes were now entirely locked on me, their necks craning as far as possible from their relaxed positions. “The lupinor… is a living contradiction. On the one hand, he represents all that is wrong with an Adjacency — the brutish, savage, war-torn barbarity of an unstable and ill-gotten regime. And yet… on the other… he presents himself as a stoic knight, chivalrous, silent, and stunning in his simple regalia. Regalia that seems more suited for a retainer than a prince.” I sighed, placing the back of my hand against my forehead. “He’s such a simple man. So simple that I genuinely believe he represents a purer version of chivalry than is found here in the Nexus. Indeed, his vow of silence remains strong enough that he refuses to acknowledge my presence, despite all of my social ingresses.” “Well… when you put it that way, the prince does seem markedly more remarkable.” Talia admitted reluctantly. “But still, why the rush? Why the enthusiasm? There has to be something practical here, Cynthis.” Her eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you telling us?” “Oh Talia, ever the pragmatist.” I chided with a flick of my hand. “But alas, you once more see right through me. There is, indeed, a practical aspect to this chase.” I paused for dramatic effect, as a fangy grin formed along my lips. “I believe, for all of the prince’s faults, that I will be capable of fixing him. And by extension, Havenbrock too.” The gazes of all three ladies darted back and forth at this point, attempting to form words but finding all efforts at this futile. “He may be the youngest. Indeed, he may be the furthest within the immediate family from the throne. But I believe that through him, I will be able to finally fix the Havenbrock dilemma, by providing an anchor with a favored realm.” Silence dawned on all three, until suddenly a series of giggly laughter spawned from the stunning speech. “Leave it to a pardusrealmer to have political marriages constantly on the mind.” Talia broke away from the communal laughter first. “Oh no, this is more than a political marriage. It’s a paradigm-shifting arrangement if done right.” Yartis offered up soon after. “My majesties and ladies… you vastly underestimate just how ambitious yet expected this is.” Cerla began. “It is one thing for a pardusrealmer to be considering a political marriage, another to be this ambitious, but completely unprecedented to be willing to become what I assume she’s implying.” Cerla’s eyes landed on my own, her gaze filled with excitement. “You wish to be the civilized anchor to Havenbrock’s savagery — the de facto Nexian representative, without sacrificing Elven dignity, or being seen as a throne-chaser.” I nodded deeply, garnering smiles, and then all out giggles. “Yes. And I have years to make this work, ladies…” Nexus. The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Silksong’s Silken Shop. Local Time: 1400 Hours. Auris Ping Hours. Hours upon hours of unsolicited, nigh-omnipresent chatter. Whilst the words of commoners rarely registered as anything but atmospherics, today’s drivel was anything but relevant to my noble aspirations. As it would seem that every other conversation had somehow found its way into the unwarranted obsession over a topic that threatened to drive me manic. From the front of the guild hall where we were poised to visit next— “Have you heard about the blue knight?” “Oh yes! Yes! Her charity knows no bounds!” “What do you mean?” “Her acts of charity in the adventurer’s guild hall, of course! Haven’t you heard? She fed those poor aspirants. The trainee apprentices, I believe she called them!” “Aww, how sweet!” —to the streets and squares that dotted the road towards our first destination— “And you know what else?” “What?” “I heard that she even left the Ambassadorial District.” “A noble? A Newrealm noble at that?” “Yeah! It’s almost like she’s got the heart of a commoner!” “Shh! Don’t let them hear you say that—” —the conversations were ceaseless. But at the very least, we would hear none of it here in this fine establishment. DING DING DING! The front doorbell rang, eliciting the arrival of a well-to-do Nexian that bowed deeply in my direction. “Welcome, welcome! Welcome to Silksong’s Silken Shop! The best clothing emporium in town! I am Morfi Silksong, the Hundred-Twentieth of my line, and Guild-Certified Seamstress!” “A pleasure, my dear fellow, a pleasure!” Vicini responded first in his flighty, vapid persona, prompting me to promptly push him aside in order to expedite my demands. “I wish for a noble’s traveling cloak, of the Nexian variety. Along with perhaps a similar cloak for use with armor.” I announced bluntly. “Ah! You’ve come to the right place, my lord! For my son is both an apprentice and a prodigy at such armored adornments! Why, he just very recently completed several commissions for a certain blue knight!” I felt my eye twitch, and a twinge of pulsing pain to form behind it. “A. Blue. Knight? You say?” “Yes! I believe she was—” “Lord Lorsi, we’re leaving.” “W-what? Lord Ping, we just—” “There are more establishments along this road. We shall patronize other, more respectable tailoring businesses.” Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30, Emma and Thacea’s Room. Local Time: 1545 Hours. Emma Most of the day had been committed to a mad dash of last-minute checks, fixes, and corrections on both the chassis and wheels of the motorcycle. Indeed, both Ilunor and Thalmin had given up about halfway through the day, seeing as the former found mechanical maintenance to be, quote, “a mind-numbing exercise in overcomplicated puzzle-solving.” However, by mid-afternoon, most of the issues had been ironed out as both the printer and assembler continued on their scheduled progress, leaving only the external frame and body at the hands of Sorecar. I’d visited the man soon after… only to be shooed away. Though not in the way that I’d imagined. “Trust me, Cadet Emma Booker, I would rather present you with a complete surprise than see that surprise spoiled by virtue of a half-finished tour!” I tentatively accepted the armorer’s offer, but only because of the guarantee he made. “Yes, yes. I will be able to make a boring iteration if you so wish. It will take nary an hour to do so, so time is most certainly not a concern should last-minute revisions be necessary!” Finally, I found myself arriving back in the dorms, finding Thalmin missing for our supply run into town. Ilunor assured me he’d be back in time for said supply run, though, which prompted me to finally plop down on the bedroom couch to just rest. So, with nothing else to do… other than homework, of course… I turned to Thacea. Conversation came naturally to the both of us as we began running through the motions yet again, momentum gradually arriving to a brief rundown of yesterday’s antics. “And then I was like, ‘OH GOD, I’M SO SORRY!’ Because, y’know, I thought I’d literally shattered and broke his pet in half. The guilt I felt literally sent my soul into the abyss where the most evil of evil-doers are destined for.” “But of course, I assume Thalmin corrected you on that fallacy.” Thacea offered patiently. “Oh yeah, he did. He was an excellent sport about it too. But still, no animal lover or pet owner ever wants to go through that horror, even if it was short lived and turned out to be a non-issue.” I responded with some emotive gesturing, eliciting the same calm and receptive nods that came naturally to the princess. “Soulstitching is a rather unique art, even amongst adjacent realms where the knowledge and practice of soul-based magic is plentiful. So I can only imagine how truly alien it was for you, given your realm’s lack of insight into the nature of souls.” Thacea smiled softly, gesturing towards the WAID on my back. “However, such blind spots are clearly capable of being bridged, or at least, mended with sufficient enough analogues.” “Yeah, the WAID interface is still compiling, but hopefully I’ll have something workable soon.” I responded with a smile of my own. “I really gotta thank you for yesterday’s pointers, princess. Artistic interpretations are one thing, but actual practical considerations are much appreciated.” “It was my pleasure, Emma.” Thacea nodded. “Having seen the… bluntness that seems to come naturally to your people’s innovative spirit, I imagined the same could be applied to manasight — as sacrilegious as that may be to most.” “Again, that’s incredibly considerate of you, Thacea.” I dipped my head down out of respect. “Though speaking of bluntness and objectivity, there was one thing I was meaning to ask about yesterday’s demonstrations, if that’s alright?” “Go on?” “Ilunor and Thalmin’s presentations included something yours didn’t. This… weird sort of aura around their physical bodies. When I first saw Ilunor’s draconic outline, I’d assumed it was quite literally his ego painting the scene. But when Thalmin’s demonstration also included an aura of his own, it casted doubt into whether or not Ilunor was just exaggerating for his own sakes.” I rattled on, garnering increasingly wary looks from the princess. “However, when it came to your demo, I noticed how you didn’t seem to project an aura, so—” “Now you’re curious as to my own aura.” Thacea uttered out somberly, her expressions growing darker and darker by the moment. “Y-yeah. But we don’t have to get into that if you don’t want to, Thacea. It’s just—” “No, no.” The princess interjected, turning her gaze away if only for a moment. “If your… sight is to be improved, then we must discuss and demonstrate all aspects of the world. Whether that is the beautiful, the pragmatic…” Thacea paused, taking in a deep breath as she closed her eyes tightly, uttering the next few words with a pained contempt. “... and the ugly.” First | Previous | Next (Author's Note: This chapter was an absolute blast to write! :D We get quite a diverse set of perspectives in this one! From the start of the chapter where we get a few hints as to Captain Frital's motives and her personal or professional curiosities, through to Auris Ping and Vicini Lorsi's interactions, as well as a bit more character development for the latter! :D We also get a bit more of an insight into Cynthis' whole perspective on things, as well as her game! And finally, we move back to Emma! I really love writing chapters like these, where we get to see so many perspectives and so many storylines happening concurrently! I really like to imagine these worlds as living breathing ones where each character goes about their lives as the main character of their own stories! Having Cynthis' perspective here really helps with that I think because the contrast between her world, Emma's, Vanavan's, and Ping's is just so much fun haha. I really do hope that I was able to convey that living world and multiple story vibe here! I really do hope you guys enjoy the chapter! :D The next Two Chapters are already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters.) [If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 132 and Chapter 133 of this story is already out on there!)] submitted by /u/Jcb112 to r/HFY [link] [comments]

AITA? I'm being torn apart by my family and being called evil. I (28F) have an older sister (32F) who has three kids, a twelve year old son with autism, a ten year old son, and a four year old daughter. I love all my nieces and nephews equally but my oldest nephew is a challenge. He is non verbal and uses a communication device to let us know his needs. He's also prone to violent outbursts where he'll either hit himself and sometimes hit other people. My sister is an amazing mother but I think she fails to see how hard it is. She can deal with him in her sleep but for everyone else it's a huge adjustment. I have a three year old daughter who's very close with her four year old cousin and my stepson is in the same grade and school as my ten year old nephew and they've become fast friends and play video games and sports together all the time. I married my husband last year so they're still new family members. Because of their friendships my niece and nephews have been coming over all the time within the past year and things have been great and my oldest nephew tags along sometimes. While the kids go off and play together me and him usually just chill and watch TV. For the past few months however he's been having some violent outbursts while being over here. At first it was just yelling tantrums when he was frustrated with his iPad. It scared me and the kids but it was just yelling and he would eventually stop and calm down and even sign "sorry". And the kids play in other rooms so it wasn't an issue. But lately it's been getting bad. About two months ago it was just my nephews over and younger nephew was playing outside with my step son. Me and my older nephew and my daughter were lounging on the patio chairs. Out of nowhere he threw his iPad on the ground and started yelling like crazy. I could see his iPad had died and was surprised since my sister usually keeps it fully charged and they had only been dropped off an hour before. I went to pick it up and to redirect him inside to charge it when he pushed me onto the chair and spit on me and the iPad fell. My daughter picked it up to hand to him and he pushed her hard on the ground and KICKED her. My three year old! I was terrified, I had no idea how strong he's getting. My son and nephew came running over and my nephew was able to calm down his brother but me and my daughter were traumatized. She sprained her wrist because of the fall. My sister was very apologetic, took my daughter out to ice cream and shopping and we were able to move past it but I'm still shaken up from it. My sister was also two weeks post partum when this happened so I have her grace. Being spit on was so degrading but watching my daughter be pushed and kicked on the ground by someone three times larger than her still has me holding resentment towards him even though I knew he didn't mean harm. Ever since then, I've turned down two invites since they both included all three kids and told her I don't feel comfortable with her oldest, but the younger two are free to come over. She said her kids are a package deal and was upset. On Easter my sister confronted me in front of our whole family for being "bigoted" towards her son just because of one outburst. She said he didn't even do any "real" damage and her kids miss coming over and spending time with mine. Everyone was on her side and said that in all of his years this is the worst thing he's done and to stop alienating him from my kids. And I know he usually is a sweet boy but I just don't want to take any chances. Yesterday my sister had to take her newborn to an appointment and our brother canceled on her last minute as a sitter so she begged me to watch her kids for her. I told her I only felt comfortable with her youngest two over here so she would have to find alternative caretaking for her oldest son like our mom. She scoffed and said why would she take him to our mom who's thirty minutes away and be late to their appointment when she could just drop them all off here and told me to stop being an asshole and hung up. I don't know if she thought I was bluffing but when she pulled up and I saw all of them I walked to her window and told her to leave. She started crying saying I'm being such a bitch, that this affects all her kids, and that if I alienate her oldest why would she trust me with her other kids? I told her to not waste her time (her appointment was at 3:30 and it was 2:30) and that she has thirty minutes to go to our moms house since I won't be watching them. She asked me if I'm seriously forcing her to go out of her way thirty minutes just because of one small incident she already "made up to me for" and make her late to her appointment? I said yes. She left very angrily and about an hour later my phone is being blown up by my siblings and parents asking me what the fuck is my issue and calling me all sorts of names. They're making it seem like I'm the most hateful person and I don't have actual reasons why I don't feel comfortable around him anymore. They're saying my daughters sprained wrist and him spitting on pushing us both is "nothing" and that I'm being an evil asshole. My husband is on my side 100% and says that with him getting older his violent outbursts can actually cause physical harm now and they need to stop acting like he's still a child throwing a tantrum and not a preteen going through puberty. AITA? submitted by /u/Available-Hat6629 to r/AITAH [link] [comments]

So about two years ago, I adopted this golden retriever named Milo. Sweetest dog ever. Loves everyone. Typical golden energy — tail wagging so hard it could knock over a lamp. We live in a quiet neighborhood where a lot of people leave their gates open, and Milo has always been good about staying close to home. I trusted him enough to let him hang out in the front yard sometimes while I worked inside with the window open. One afternoon, I realized it had been a little *too* quiet for a while. I went outside to call him, and he wasn’t there. Full panic mode activated. I grabbed his leash and started running up and down the street yelling his name like a crazy person. About three houses down, I saw something that made me stop dead in my tracks. ​ Milo...was sitting on someone else’s porch..... nd not just sitting. He was lounging like he **owned** the place. Head up, tongue out, happy as could be. And next to him? An older woman in a rocking chair, feeding him *pieces of chicken* from a plate. I was like, “Uh...Milo??” The woman looked up and smiled and said, “Oh, you must be Milo’s other family!” Other family?? Turns out, for MONTHS, Milo had been slipping away whenever I wasn’t looking and visiting this woman, Mrs. Patterson. She lived alone, her kids were grown, and apparently, Milo had just decided to adopt her. He’d show up every couple of days, sit politely on her porch, and she’d reward him with chicken, scraps, and the occasional bacon strip. We both laughed about it, and I apologized like a thousand times for him intruding, but she waved it off and said he was “good company.” After that, we kind of made it official — Milo had two homes. I started bringing Mrs. Patterson groceries once a week, and Milo got to have his second grandma. He still splits his time between us, and honestly? I think he had the right idea. submitted by /u/fortnitefishyman to r/stories [link] [comments]

I (30F) have one daughter ‘Heather’ (2F) with my husband. My brother (36M) is married to my sil ‘Kelly’ (37F). She has one son from an ex (12M) and one daughter ‘Sadie’ (3F) with my brother. We’ve never been super close, but before all this we had a good relationship overall and I liked her. Kelly has a fear of going into water. When she was 6 she was at a family bbq and began to drown in the pool. There were so many kids splashing around in the water the adults just thought she was playing or something like that. She lost consciousness and came very close to dying. She got into therapy and has since allowed her son and Sadie to learn how to swim. When Sadie was 1-2 years old she’d only allow it as long as her son or my brother were right next to her. Now she’s seems fairly laidback over having her kids in the water even without strict supervision. This was surprising to me but it’s her life so I never commented. A few months ago she and my brother even told me she was doing exposure therapy and slowly learning to not let her fears control her. She’s even had a small swim lesson and was feeling fairly calm walking around in a shallow pool. Every thanksgiving and Christmas we go to visit my parents in their retirement neighborhood in Florida. Kelly has told me all about her past in the time we’ve spent together there for the holidays. It has a nice community pool with a recreation center. There’s only a lifeguard on duty Saturday, but the rec center has employees at the front desk if you go inside. While we were there for Thanksgiving the weather channel predicted only one day would be nice enough for the kids to swim. My sil, brother, husband and I were planning to take them in the late afternoon (grandparents were busy with some other event that day). I fell and sprained my ankle. My husband said he’d drive me to an urgent care. I didn’t want my daughter to miss the pool outing so I said I’d allow her to go with my brothers family. My brother and nephew promised to be by her side the whole time. My brother at nephew apparently wanted to play ping pong on the table that was in the recreation center. Sadie and Heather were still splashing in the shallow 3-feet end of the pool with Kelley watching in a lounge chair. She said they could go because she’d keep an eye on the girls and go get them if they get into any trouble. Kelly had put Heather in a pool tube around her waist to float. Somehow Heather flipped over and was stuck upside down in the water. She began to kick and panic so Sadie got scared and started to cry. Kelly noticed and also started to freak out. She began to scream at Sadie to get her out or flip her back over. Sadie tried at first but wasn’t strong enough and couldn’t get a good grip. Plus she was scared and confused from her mother’s yelling. I know she has a legitimate trauma so I understand why that would scare her and would’ve been fine with her not jumping in herself. I wouldn’t be so upset if she then had the common sense to run into the rec center to grab ANYONE else to save my daughter. It was the next building over if she had ran inside to ask for help everything would’ve turned out a lot better. I have no idea what was going on in this woman’s head but she grabbed a pool net to try and get Heather out. This would’ve made sense if she had used it to guide my daughter to a place she could grab her out but it seemed that she tried to carry my daughter in the net and when she didn’t fit she moved to a different strategy that looked like just awkwardly smacking her. This moved Heather to the deeper part of the pool. She never seemed all that stupid to me so I don’t know why she tried to save my daughter in the most inefficient way possible. Eventually a rec center employee heard her panicking and ran outside. He have cpr and she threw up a lot of a water. They called an ambulance and my husband and I met everyone at the hospital. Heather had a lot of bruises on her lower half. I asked what happened and Kelly told me about the pool net and everything. Plus how she hadn’t immediately gotten someone else. I was so angry I yelled at the boys and her how she could see my daughter dying and not do anything. The first thing she said was literally “well I kept yelling at Sadie to help her”. This really pissed me off, she was blaming all this on her toddler. I know everyone mistakes mistakes but seriously? When I asked her why she didn’t sprint for help right away. She said she was overwhelmed and that I shouldn’t attack her because my kid couldn’t swim to save herself. The pool tube was around her waste was trapping her upside down. This set me off. I was and still am disgusted with my brother but her words made me break and lose it. I started to scream at her how pathetic she was and that she was just as bad as her family members who let her drown. I kept yelling until she started to sob and security made us stop. My husband and I were so upset we demanded to see the rec centers footage from the pool security camera and we saw exactly what happened. After we went back home I sent a short text to Kelly that I was sorry for losing my cool. I was completely out of line and blamed the wrong person to deal with it all. She sent back a paragraph saying I’m a psycho bitch for blaming her for her own trauma response. She even said maybe it would’ve been better for my daughter to die than have a mom like me. Obviously I haven’t contacted her or my brother since. My parents began to yell at me when I yelled at Kelly so I haven’t spoken to them much either. For Christmas we aren’t joining them this year. My husband fully agrees with me. My best friend and her family live a few hours away so don’t see her as often as I’d like. Since it’s just us for Christmas she offered to have us stay at her nice house so my daughter can play with her kids. A couple days ago we stayed up drinking wine and talking. She knew about it but I told her all the details for the first time. After I was done she asked if she could give me a bit of advice. I was curious what she wanted to say so I said yes. She said what Kelly said was awful and she went way too far especially with her text about my daughter. Plus it was stupid that her first thought was to yell at her toddler daughter to do something. Kelly could’ve handled it all way better with a calm start. Of course though she was panicking in an awful so she couldn’t think as clearly. I’m furious with my brother as well. I was so upset and was yelling at him too. It was what my sil said that really hurt and set me off. I was so panicked and wasn’t thinking straight. I will never let my brother watch Heather while I’m busy doing something ever again. She said she understood why I felt so angry in the hospital, but I shouldn’t have had such an emotional reaction or at least should’ve found time to eventually sit down in person and apologize for my outburst. It was a stressful situation for everyone. The mean things Kelly said after were wrong. I should’ve say down face to face to discuss all of our feeling and give both her and I the chance to apologize for what we said to each other. I’m feeling a lot more guilty now. I lashed out and she lashed out in turn. I talked to my husband about it, but he’s still furious with them and says we don’t owe them shit. I miss my niece and nephew. AITA? submitted by /u/throwawaysildrown to r/AITAH [link] [comments]

First | Previous | Next Patreon | Official Subreddit | Series Wiki Ten minutes had passed since the start of this journey, and the forest was already starting to thin out into something that more resembled quiet, peaceful, rural farmlands. Although this whole ride was anything but peaceful. My mind had been preoccupied with my unexpected displacement in time, but more concerningly, the impact it had on the whole crate predicament and the timer that ticked closer and closer towards an inevitable oblivion. Though thankfully, I still had options open to me, which meant I could do more than just sit around worrying. I was doing everything I could to make up for lost time, to make sure I would have all the intel necessary to carry out the final leg of this operation the instant I stepped foot into town. My drones were helping me in that venture; all three of them. My eyes were glued to each and every one of their flight-patterns as they zipped across open skies, through a disconcertingly empty airspace. It was wild to see just how empty everything was here. Whereas every square inch of Earth’s airspace across every imaginable altitude was sectioned off into hundreds of thousands of partitions… nothing like that existed here. It was just empty skies, save for the occasional flock of birds or strange magical artifice that whizzed by every minute or so. This made making a mad-dash towards the town relatively simple, as the flight of drones kept at their full speed, destined to triangulate the signal to a precise location and tasked with mapping out the local area as best as they could. This would give me a local map and rudimentary directions when I reached the town, expediting my rush towards wherever the heck the crate currently was. But why’d it have to be in the fucking town of all places? I thought to myself, quietly hoping that it wasn’t in any central or residential location. Because if it did go off… in the middle of night at that… I didn’t even want to imagine the collateral or the fallout that would result from that disaster. I was practically glued to my HUD before a series of successive dings coming from my cabin door completely derailed my train of thought. This was followed abruptly by a soft, skittish voice belonging to that of Lord Lartia’s aide. “Excuse the intrusion, Cadet Emma Booker, but Lord Lartia requests your presence in the main parlor.” It still boggled my mind how this whole… traincar was arranged. Because it literally was just that, a train car, complete with individual cabins, and a large parlor where the main entrance was located. I took a moment to compose myself with an inward sigh, before getting up and out of my seat, and towards that folding door. There was nothing else I could do with the drones anyways. They were more or less on their own now, and any attempt at trying to play Reconnaissance Drone Operator would inevitably lead to a worse result than what the smart adaptive systems (SAS) were capable of when left to their own devices. Besides, the battlefield management system would ping me if any urgent orders were needed, and it wasn’t like I needed an excuse to shut myself off from the world to address those issues if it came to it. Opening that folding door, I was met with the sight of the short, hooded elf; who stood about a head shorter than my out of suit height. She looked at me pleasantly enough, not showing any signs of being bothered by the hulking mass of metal nor the two unwavering lenses that stared down at her. “Are the accommodations to your liking, Cadet Emma Booker?” The young woman spoke in what could only be described as a more genuine version of your typical customer service tone of voice. “Yeah, thank you. I don’t really see the need for it considering this whole ride is supposed to take a half hour, but I appreciate the gesture, and the privacy.” I acknowledged with a single nod. “It’s our pleasure, my lady. We pride ourselves in a strict adherence to social decorum. Now, if you’ll follow me.” She began ‘leading the way’ towards the parlor… which was again, excessive and completely unnecessary given it was just 20 feet away from the narrow corridors flanked on both sides by rooms and cabins. Entering the parlor, I still felt the same strange offness I felt the moment I entered the carriage. And it wasn’t the fact that the interior space was giving the EVI another non-euclidean error-ridden panic attack. Nor was it because of the small gaggle of bards in the corner of the traincar-sized space that serenaded us with music befitting a Castles and Wyverns session. It wasn’t even because of the impossible smoothness of the ride that stood in stark contrast to the bumpy ups and downs clearly seen through the windows. It was because- “Ah! Where are my manners! Would you care for some tea, Cadet Emma Booker? Perhaps some twilight tonic? I must apologize for the limited offerings I have on stock. The royal warrant for this venture came as an unexpected and abrupt urgent request; we scarcely had enough time to reorganize our stores for this impromptu journey!” It was because everyone, from the aide to the Lord himself, was playing nice. “No, no, I’m fine, thanks. I can’t really drink, let alone eat in this thing, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass on all of that, thanks.” I managed out as best I could given the weight of the world bearing down on me. “Ah, I see! Apologies if I have transgressed in any way, Cadet Emma Booker! I did not realize you were under a vow of seclusion, or an oath of knightly resolve.” “Excuse me, a what-now?” “A vow of seclusion or an oath of knightly resolve.” He reiterated with a smile. “I assume the reason why you refuse the hostly courtesies of expectant decorum to be due to your commitments to higher values overruling the appropriate responses of a guest.” The elf continued before suddenly, and abruptly, shifting his course in the conversation once more. “However if both of my assumptions are incorrect, I must apologize for any infractions incurred to your personal honor, Cadet Emma Booker. It would seem as if my transgressions know no bounds on this fair night! Your culture is completely unknown to me, so I wish to be as accommodating as possible in order to best represent the courtesy of a host. Even if my extension of courtesy is indeed bound to just this small jaunt from the forest to the village, it is still in my honor and within the bounds of expectant decorum to be civil in such exchanges.” “I…” I stuttered out, before halting halfway. Part of me was just too thrown off by the complete tonal whiplash to really continue. Another part of me was just too tired to come up with any witty banter given the newfound pressures of the shortened countdown timer taking up the majority of my headspace. “Have I spoken something to warrant a vow of silence, Cadet Emma Booker?” The man continued, as I still struggled to find words to appropriately respond with. He was supposed to be a noble… right? “Cadet Emma Booker?” The man’s aide interjected, snapping me out of my reverie and back into reality once more. “Oh, erm, sorry. I apologize. It’s just… it’s been quite a long day.” “I imagine it must have been, the dispatching of a beast of unknown origin, and one which eludes even the town’s adventurers, must have been quite draining!” “Yeah, it was, which reminds me… do you mind if I ask you a few things about it?” “Of course! By all means!” “Right, well, just before you arrived, the thing was actually talking to me. Though, talking is probably not the best word for this. Its eyes glowed this sort of yellow color, and it sounded like something was speaking through it. I was wondering if you knew what that was all about?” “Ah. The forest. I must beg your pardon on behalf of the Nexus, Cadet Emma Booker. It is not often that it chooses to directly interact with an outsider. But when it does, it usually does so through an intermediary. It would seem as if that beast just so happened to be one of its intermediaries.” The man explained simply, but also in a manner that made it clear he didn’t want to touch on the topic any further. “But let’s let bygones be bygones, are you sure you are not at all injured by that beast, Cadet Emma Booker?” “Eh, the beast wasn’t really the thing that shook me up. It’s the whole portal situation to be quite honest” paused, before snickering. “It’s not everyday I fall headfirst into a portal that spits me out the other side a full day in the future.” “Ah, that’s quite understandable Cadet Emma Booker. Once more, I must apologize if my insistence on maintaining polite conversation is at all at odds with your current physical disposition.” The man responded with a polite smile, before leaning back into the thick plush seats that reminded me of those overly ornate leather lounge chairs from the Victorian era. “Spatial dislocation and chronological displacement are both elements of the magical arts that can disorient even the most seasoned of apprentices. The fact that you remain so well put together, literally and figuratively, to the point where you managed to dispatch with that beast speaks volumes to the tenacity of your spirit and the constitution of your kind.” He continued on, speaking with what I could only describe as a genuine tone of approval and appreciation. “Both are qualities which I can most confidently say are self-evident by the dedication in the craftsmanship of your newrealmer attire.” “Thank you.” I managed out, taking a moment to crane my head around the carriage, just to buy me some time to come up with something to say. “You’re right by the way.” I began, causing the elf in front of me to perk a brow up in response. “You could say I’m under something of a vow, to not remove the armor I mean. It’s… a very complicated affair that I can’t get into right now. But suffice it to say, you have my thanks for being understanding about it and for not digging into it further.” “Oh but of course! It would be in poor taste for people of our standing to be at each other’s throats instead of extending as much courtesy to one another as possible.” The man spoke as if he was referring to some unspoken comradery that existed between us, which just threw me off even further. “Our standing, Lord Lartia?” I shot back almost immediately. “Indeed. If you will entertain my presumptuous tenacity, I take it that you are a member of something analogous to what we refer to as the Entrusted Nobility.” “I’m not quite sure what that actually implies.” A slight pause soon followed, as the man took a moment to look me up and down, his warm eyes complementing his polite complexion. Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling of something being off about him. “I’m going to tread into dangerous waters by making this assumption, Emma Booker, but I assume that your experience at the Academy thus far has been… less than stellar?” “You could say that there’s a certain level of inconsistency in how certain individuals interpret their noble decorum around me, yes.” I replied diplomatically. “Hmm. Typical.” The man responded in an uncharacteristically snappy tone of voice. Something I hadn’t at all expected given his verboseness so far. “This is very much typical, to no fault of your own, of course.” He took a moment to reach for a piping hot liquid held up by a precarious looking glass stem, taking a slow calculating sip, before continuing. “You must forgive the rest of these… otherrealmer scum, Cadet Emma Booker.” The intensity in his voice hitched up without warning, the tonal whiplash he was giving off was honestly reaching peak levels. “They merely mime and mimic what they see, and boast and bluster beyond their capacity. They resent those not of landed standing, such as you or I, Cadet Emma Booker. Which is why your presence here, if my presumptions are correct, is utterly fascinating. For you see it is quite unusual for an adjacent realm, and a newrealm at that, to send over a candidate not of some landed status. The fact your realm sent you of all people speaks volumes to the type of civilization we might expect from you, candidate.” A small silence interrupted his speech, as he took that time to take yet another sip from that glass, as if he was expecting a response to validate his claims. I took a few moments to fully consider everything he was saying so far, a lot of it which had serious repercussions on the political landscape of the Nexus. The existence of more than one type of noble, and what seemed to be clearly defined sociocultural lines between said types of nobles, was huge in and of itself. But it was the terminology being used that really pointed at what these differences could be, and what the guy could be assuming about me. Landed versus Entrusted. I looked around me, at the interior of the carriage, at the man’s aide, even at the gaggle of bards in the far corner of the room… before it hit me. “You said you were under a royal warrant.” I spoke out loud. “Correct, Cadet Emma Booker.” “And that you’re heading to the town because of a courier mission.” “Correct, again.” The elf spoke affirmatively, nodding with a warm smile. “I’m going to assume that your definition of Entrusted Nobility, has something to do with members of the nobility, whose noble status aren’t bound to land like the Landed Nobility, but are instead bound to some Royal commission or an appointed role, status, or something like that?” This caused the elf to perk a brow up in excitement. “Close enough, Cadet Emma Booker. The Entrusted Nobility are those of noble birth whose families have no claim to lands significant enough to constitute the establishment of landed holdings such as Duchies, Kingdoms, and so on and so forth. Instead, our titles are granted to us by our Entrusted holdings, holdings which range from anything from manufactoriums, through to unique family-held services.” This added a layer of complexity to the Nexus that I didn’t need right now, but that I knew the EVI was hurriedly storing away for our intelligence reports. That still doesn’t address the elephant in the room though… “And you’re under the assumption that I hold that equivalent title back home?” “Well yes.” “Why?” “It is obvious is it not?” The man shot back with a hint of incredulity, coupled with a slight chuckle. It was only when I refused to elaborate further that he finally gave me a solid, reasonable answer. “It is everything about you, Cadet Emma Booker, starting from your armor.” He raised both hands in front of me, gesturing to every possible angle of my armor. “No commoner would be able to afford such fineries, and no landed noble would be caught dead wearing it lest it is a punishment enforced upon them. Secondly, it is the manner by which you carry yourself, more specifically your title. No commoner would dare use titles preceding their name in interactions with a high-born, and no landed noble would be caught using merited titles, let alone in a first interaction. Thirdly, is your propensity to put merit first. You did not boast, nor did you point to the dispatched beast as a justification of your character. You merely let such things speak for themselves. Finally, and perhaps most telling of all, is your oath of knightly resolve. Such acts of humility are impossible to find within the ranks of the landed nobility, but are gestures of great fortitude befitting of the Entrusted Nobility.” The man ended off his whole tirade with an overly confident grin on his face. “So tell me, how accurate were my assertions, Lady Emma Booker?” I felt as if my very soul had been grappled and ripped from my core as the elf chose to attach that honorific to my name. It just felt wrong on so, so many levels. Especially with the baggage that title carried here in the Nexus. I had to take a moment to steady myself before responding. “I’m… actually not a noble, Lord Lartia.” I responded plainly, but as politely as I could. To say that his facial features completely changed the moment those words left my mouth would’ve been an understatement, as that formerly chipper and polite demeanor was completely thrown out. There was still politeness there, sure, but the genuine kindness that had colored his light brown cheeks had departed so quickly that he looked as if he’d become a completely different person altogether. “Ah.” Was his first response, and even with just that, I could tell the man’s mood had completely changed. “Well, my apologies then, Cadet Emma Booker.” He started correcting his course, even taking the time to clear his throat as the tint of kindness in his eyes started following the same trend as the rest of his face. A guard quickly approached from behind him, coming out from one of the many doors recessed into the walls, on a direct trajectory towards me. Before he could do anything though, Lartia raised a single hand, lazily, and without much effort. The life seemingly gone from even his physical gestures. “No, that won’t be necessary.” He spoke with a tired sigh. “But my lord, the commoner is sitting on upholstery intended for highborns-” “I said, that won’t be necessary, Fabian.” Lartia reiterated now with a soft hiss. “Yes my lord.” The guard quickly left without a fuss, leaving just me and the elf alone yet again. “It is no fault of your own that you sit there, in a space designated for highborns, Cadet Emma Booker. It is also of no fault of your own that you have been given highborn accommodations. It would be unbecoming of me to punish you for my own lack of foresight, and my own foolishness. I should’ve inquired first with regards to your heritage. However, considering you are a student of the Transgracian Academy, I nominally assumed you were of some noble heritage.” The man shrugged, speaking to me in what could only be described as a dismissive, almost disappointed tone of voice. “With that being said, I believe it is best that we cut our conversation short. I have nothing further to discuss with you, and I permit you to retire to the quarters set aside for you. You will not be relegated to the commoner’s section, do not worry. I am a man of my word, and a man standing steadfast by my decisions, even if this particular decision has led me to a horrible social faux pas. I apologize if I treated you as an equal, Cadet Emma Booker. I did not wish to infer such violations of Noble Decorum.” He began pinching the bridge of his nose, taking a moment to openly sigh, before turning towards me once more. “Do you have something else to discuss, Cadet Emma Booker?” “…no, I think we’re done here.” Was all I said as I got up and left for my cabin. I knew there was something to the whole act, and my gut finally got something right this time around. There was just under ten minutes left before we arrived, and I figured now was as good a time as any to check up on the drones. Just before I could settle back into my cabin however, I was once again interrupted by a series of soft taps on the door. Not the same dings as before, but quiet, almost imperceptible taps. I stared at the door, my eyes narrowing as I saw the lock unlatching, before I saw the shy, nervous eyes of the aide staring up at me. I sighed outwardly, and loudly, making an effort to actually emote through the layers of composites and nanoweave. “What is it now? Has my great host decided to change his mind on that offer? Does he want me to walk the rest of the way to town, or-” “I… I’m actually here against the Lord’s wishes, my lady.” The elf interjected meekly. “You don’t have to call me that you know.” I quickly corrected the aide. “It’s not like there’s any need any more now that the cat’s out of the bag.” This seemed to prompt the elf to begin bowing in apologetics, her eyes quickly averting from my two lenses as she did so. “If it pleases my lady for me to stop, then it shall be done. Is there a title you would have me use in its place?” “Forget titles, I don’t even know your name.” I responded, cocking my head to the side. “Maybe we should start with that?” I tried tempering my voice down somewhat, giving the young elf a chance, even if her boss had more or less thrown polite dialogue out the window just a few moments ago. “My name?” The elf parotted back with a twinge of disbelief. “Of course. I am Trade-Apprentice Lartia-siv, serving under the masterful tutelage of my Lord Lartia.” “You’re Lord Lartia’s daughter?” I responded with yet another head cock. “Ah, sorry! I had assumed you knew of our customs, but I had forgotten that you are a newrealmer. My humblest of apologies.” The elf once more bowed apologetically. “I am not Lord Lartia’s daughter, Cadet Emma Booker. I am but a common apprentice. I understand my name might cause some confusion, but it is expected practice for Trade-Apprentices to relinquish their own name for the duration of their apprenticeship, instead taking on the name of our masters, and adding a suffix to denote our rank within the apprenticeship.” The young elf explained succinctly. However, despite speaking with a clear tone of certainty, I could still hear some reluctance and disdain in her voice. As if she had something else to say, but just didn’t want to say it. “So, what about your name before all of this?” “I’m sorry?” “Your name, prior to this whole apprenticeship thing. What did you call yourself then?” “I don’t think the master would approve of-” “I don’t care what he would approve or disapprove of. Your name is your own, now it’s your choice if you want to reveal it to me or not. I’m just asking after all.” “Erm… my name was Rila.” “Okay, so, what would you rather me call you then?” The elf took the time to actually pause and think about this, her eyes showing signs of internal turmoil, as seconds, then an entire minute passed before she responded with a quiet whisper. “Rila. I… I want you to call me Rila, if that’s alright with you, Cadet Emma Booker.” I took a deep breath and nodded. “Rila it is then. So, Rila, what did you want to talk to me about?” That question seemed to send the elf into a bit of a nervous frenzy, as she looked all around her before entering the small cabin, and closing the door shut behind her. “I… I just wanted to ask, as a commoner… from one commoner to another… how… how are you able to be so confident in the presence of a noble? I… I understand that you may be in some manner of armed force, given your rank and your armor, but even the most seasoned of warriors buckle under the pressure of a one on one audience with a noble. I cannot for the life of me comprehend just how you were able to hold your own without once relinquishing a single inch of your own pride and honor. I have been in Lord Lartia’s service for just under 15 years now, and even after nearly two decades, I still find it difficult to maintain eye contact with a highborn for longer than I am permitted to. How do you do it, Cadet Emma Booker? How do you act as if you are equals? How-” “Simple. It’s because we are equals, Rila.” I stopped the elf before she could even continue, as I spoke without a hint of hesitation, as if it was something that needed to be said before anything else. “Everything else just stems from that.” “But… you’re not equals. You’re a commoner, like me-” “Where I come from, the distinctions you get are all earned. If you’re military? That’s rank. If you’re an academic? That’s also rank. If you’re a civil servant? Rank again. And all ranks are earned. Even then, outside of your profession and or command structure, everyone’s equal. Respect between people is something that’s earned, it’s not something you’re born with. That’s just how I was raised, and those are the values I hold.” The hooded elf remained standing in place for a few solid seconds after that, her eyes shifting from disbelief, then as she listened on, mellowing out into a curious intrigue, before she finally landed on a look I wasn’t expecting. A look of pining for something better than the world she knew. “That… sounds like an impossible place.” She admitted. “But it sounds like a really nice place as well.” I could sense that the elf was still skeptical, not fully grasping the nature of my world as truth like just about every other inhabitant of the Nexus. But unlike my other encounters, something was different about this one, as her gaze seemed to drift into a daydreaming state of reverie; letting out a longing sigh that ended with a soft laugh. “I would like to visit such a world some day.” She spoke with gratitude in her voice as she held up the sides of her hood, draping it over her face a moment after. “Thank you, Cadet Emma Booker.” Rila spoke confidently, following it up with a respectful bow. “Thank you for letting me know the existence of such a fantastical place.” It was at that point that I knew I had to do something, and so with a few minutes left on the clock before we reached the town, I got up from my seat to place both of my hands on her shoulders. “It’s only fantastical because this place makes it seem that way.” I managed out with a smile. “And hey, who knows, maybe one day right? We’ll see how things go.” The elf looked up at me with an expectant gaze, before suddenly, the cart came to a halt, as the both of us looked out the cabin window to see the town’s guard houses looming over us. “I guess this is my stop. But, hey, this doesn’t mean this is our last talk, right?” The elf looked up quizzically, before nodding with enthusiasm. “The master comes through the town at least once a month. So perhaps this can be the first of many conversations. I would love to hear more of this world of yours Cadet Emma Booker, even if it is more of a fantastical tale than an actual place. I am eager to mayhaps learn the ways of your resolve through these parables.” The elf managed out, still flip flopping from belief to disbelief. She’d need more time to process this, and time was something I was quickly running out of. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” I spoke, but before I was able to leave the cabin, I felt the elf grabbing my hand tightly. “Wait, before you go, take this.” She reached to grab what looked to be a small pearl affixed to a leather bracelet, before placing it in my hands. “It’ll let you know when I’m in town, or in close proximity.” “Are you sure you want to give me something like this? This looks expensive and I wouldn't want to-” “I have plenty to spare. It’s relatively inexpensive, all things considered. I mean, not really, but it’s something that I’m willing to part with for another sure-fire chance of meeting you, Cadet Emma Booker.” With one final exchange of smiles, my own hidden beneath a thick layer of metal, I promptly left the cabin. Walking through the now-empty parlor, Lord Lartia nowhere in sight, I landed with no fanfare on the streets of the town. “EVI, time?” “25 Minutes and 47 Seconds remaining, Cadet Emma Booker.” “Alright then.” I spoke with a fiery determination, quickly pocketing the leather bracelet into one of my pouches. “Let’s finish this.” First | Previous | Next ​ (Author’s Note: Hey everyone! As always I'd just like to say that I'm still going to be posting to HFY and Reddit as normal so nothing's changing about that, I will keep posting here as always! I'm just now posting on two sites, both Reddit and Royal Road! :D The Royal Road link is here: Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School Royal Road Link for anyone who wants to check it out on there! Anyways, back to the chapter! We're approaching the town now, and that means, we're also approaching the crate! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Chapter is already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!) [If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 39 of this story is already out on there!)] submitted by /u/Jcb112 to r/HFY [link] [comments]

I am not The OOP, OOP is u/ThrowRA_weirdgifts [28f][28m][29m] GF's childhood friend is showering her with expensive gifts to repay her former kindness. These gifts are making GF and me uncomfortable. How do we respond? Originally posted to r/relationship_advice Original Post Dec 29, 2022 Throwaway because I don't need people finding my main The main people are: • Liz 28f - my gf • Jay 28m - my gf’s childhood friend • Me 29m This might be a bit on the longer side but I think it would be helpful to give you all the background so you understand our current issue. Liza and Jay grew up in the same neighborhood, just a few houses down from each other. They were best friends in elementary school and then drifted apart a bit in middle school. During high school, Jay’s parents went through a really nasty divorce. I’m not really clear on all the details but I know that Jay’s dad moved out and Jay and his mom were really struggling financially. Liz’s parents are about as kind, generous, and warm people you’ll ever meet and they took care of Jay. He would often have dinner with them, do family stuff with them, crash at Liz’s place. Over this time, Liz and Jay became best friends again and stayed that way until college. Jay ended up getting a major scholarship to a really good school out west and left for school while Liz stayed close to home. Over the years, they followed each other on socials but had little other contact. I met Liz a little over 3 years ago as part of a social league for volleyball in our city. By luck of the draw, we were placed on the same team, met each other at the welcome event and really hit it off. She is kind, gracious, smart, witty, beautiful, fun and is just the right amount competitive. She’s the kind of girl that guys meet and fall in love with. And I guess I’m one of those guys but somehow, she also liked me. A year after meeting, we were moving in together and talking about the future. By no means is our relationship a fairy tale romance but we have weathered our fair share of storms and have what I believe to be a healthy relationship with a good sex life, strong communication and shared goals and values. We’ve talked marriage, kids, all of it. Here’s where Jay comes back into the story. A few years back, Jay started a tech company with a friend. Their company grew rapidly and were bought out by a major player in the tech world. Jay moved back to our city this year. On Labor Day, we went to a party at a friend of Liz’s from high school. Jay was also there. It was the first time that Liz had seen him in probably 4/5 years so the 2 spent a lot of the party catching up. I’m not originally from the area so many of Liz’s friends have become my friends so I was hanging out and let them catch up. On the way home from the party, Liz said that Jay had invited us over to his new house and that we needed to find a date. A few weeks later, we head over to Jay’s house. From the moment he opened the door to greet us, Jay was weird to me. I think he didn’t realize that I was coming too, maybe that Liz was coming by herself? Almost the whole day, Jay spoke only to Liz. When Liz would try to include me in the conversation or talk about me, Jay seemed to change the subject to reminisce about old stories. It was very strange and was just kind of exhausting. Eventually, I went inside to the kitchen to get a drink and chatted with Jay’s chef (he has a private chef to make his food). The chef was cool and confirmed that he had been told it was Jay plus 1 guest for dinner. Liza and I tried to chalk that whole day up to a misunderstanding, that maybe he just wanted to continue catching up, but there have been plenty of awkward things since then. For example, when at Jay’s, Liz saw a La Creuset dutch oven and said something about always wanting one but not being able to justify the cost. Well what shows up on our doorstep a few days later? The same exact La Creuset. She one time mentioned that she really likes a very expensive classic lounge chair but it's almost $4,000. It showed up at our place the next week. She said something the next day when we saw Jay but he gave this weird smile and said multiple times that he didn't know what she was talking about. Jay is building a new company that creates tech for the hospitality industry. For this reason, he has connections with restaurants and breweries all over the city. In the fall, he invited Liz to a special dinner at a chef’s table that is inside of the kitchen at one of the nicest restaurants in the city. Jay knows the chef so they would get the royal treatment. When Liz asked if I could come as well, he told her that the table only seats 2. Liz and I talked it out for a while and in the end decided that she would go without me and she reported back that it felt like 2 friends having dinner together. I was talking about the whole thing with a coworker who told me she had also done the chef’s table and the table seats 4. At the beginning of December, Jay invited her to a special event at a local museum. One of the major museums in our city hosts a special Christmas party that you have to be invited to and is really exclusive. Think knockoff version of the Met Gala without the celebrities and holiday-themed. Jay got 2 tickets and invited Liz. She’s wanted to go for ages and never thought it was possible so again we talked it out and decided she would take him up on the offer. Again, she says he acted like a friend but in hindsight, it feels weird that he keeps inviting her to stuff like this. As I’m writing this out, I already feel like people are getting ready to tell me that she’s cheating on me or that I’m a pushover for letting Liz go to 1 on 1 things with Jay. But 1) we don’t have the kind of relationship where I “wouldn’t let her” do something she wanted and 2) she is super honest with me. She’s also a terrible liar, she has the easiest tells in the world. She’s too moral and good-natured to keep a bad secret. That’s why I believe her when she’s assured me time and time again that Jay is very much in the friendzone. She is not interested. She believes that he is lonely and wants to return to being best friends. My worry is that Liz naturally sees the best in people. For example, if someone cuts her off in traffic, her natural response is that they must be in some kind of emergency situation. She genuinely trusts people, cares for people and wants the best for them. I, on the other hand, am a natural skeptic. I tend to think that people are just out for themselves. I find her optimism really beautiful but struggle to see the world in the same way. The long and short of it is that we both feel uncomfortable with the gifts and fancy dinners that he keeps getting her but when she brought it up to him, he says he is paying her back for taking him in in high school. He asked her to keep letting him do things for her because he feels like he needs to return the many favors her family did for him. Finally, this week, our friends got together for an annual Christmas party. It’s been a tradition at that party to do a white elephant gift exchange. It’s always weird stuff or funny items. Jay showed up with a second gift that he was cagey about all night. Someone thought it was part of the gift exchange and he kind of freaked out a bit. Near the end of the night, he pulled Liz aside and gave her this second gift. Inside was a designer handbag and a super expensive pair of designer heels. She felt very uncomfortable accepting them and in the awkwardness of the situation just said thanks then we left soon after. Now, 2 days later, Liz has decided she wants to return the gifts to Jay and tell him they are too much (I think she said that they were almost $2,000 combined!). I think we need to tell Jay to back off as well but Liz is saying that I’m being overly harsh. What I’m asking is: • Am I being too harsh in telling a guy to back off who is trying to repay former kindness? • If I’m not out of line telling him to back off, how can we ask him to stop with the gifts without destroying the friendship? tldr: an old friend of my gf’s is back in town showering her with gifts to repay her former kindness. These gifts make us both uncomfortable. Do we and, if so, how do we tell him to back off? Update - 3 months later March 21, 2023 TLDR: an old friend (Jay 28m) of my gf (Liz 28f) came back into town and had been showering her with expensive gifts. These gifts made us both uncomfortable. We were looking for advice in telling him to back off. I’ve had a bunch of DMs asking for an update on this situation. Honestly, the whole thing got really weird and confusing. I was trying to wait until things became more clear and we had answers to what had happened but I’m not sure that will ever happen. After posting, Liz told me that she had decided to give back Jay’s expensive Christmas gifts. She waited until he posted on Instagram about being out at an event at a local bar for a night, then drove over to his house with a friend, and they left the gifts by the front door with a note that said (paraphrased) “Jay, Thank you so much for thinking of me this Christmas. While all the gifts you’ve been giving me are generous, I feel bad taking them. It was my parents who took you in back when we were in school, I was just excited to live with my friend, they are the ones who took care of you. If you feel the need to give back, my parents have always supported [Local Charity], I’m sure they would be happy to know you gave the amount of these gifts in their honor”. She hoped this would end things and he’d get the picture. I was doubtful. Around 2 am that night (presumably when he got home and saw the returned gifts), he started bombarding her with text messages. They were all some combination of: • He was such a good friend and she was lucky to have him. • He was going to give her the gifts back because it was false modesty that she was showing in not accepting them. • She should always expect gifts from him and that he would always protect her and be her hero. It was really weird and creepy. We were already asleep and the messages came in so quickly and repeatedly that it woke us up. We agreed to try to go back to sleep and deal with it all in the morning. Luckily, we were leaving early the next morning to see my family for the holidays. On the way there, we worked together to craft a final message to Jay. Liz told him in the text that it seems like he wants a deeper relationship than she does, that she was happy in her relationship with me, and that she was blocking him to give him time to sort out his feelings for her. 30 minutes after that, we got a notification from our doorbell. I’ll give you a guess who it was. He came back a few hours later to bring the gifts back. Then came back again the next morning and then again that evening. Friends started saying that Jay had reached out to ask where Liz was, saying that he was afraid for her safety. Luckily, we didn’t tell that many people about our trip, and those who knew also knew about Liz blocking Jay and all stonewalled him. Still saying it was a stressful situation is a major understatement. Honestly, the stress of it ruined our new years. While in my hometown, we visited my cousin whose husband is a lawyer. We asked about protective orders. He told us that unfortunately, for our state, there have to be threats of harm or proof that he was stalking Liz. He told us that Jay’s actions to that point were not extreme enough but he encouraged us to save our video doorbell feed and to keep a record of every interaction in case things escalated. My parents let us stay in my hometown an extra few days before going home but eventually we had to head back for a work event that Liz had to go to. We were pretty nervous the first few days at home and I installed 2 extra cameras outside our home with a wider view range than the doorbell could offer. Luckily, we didn’t hear anything from Jay. After not hearing anything from or about him for about 2 weeks, we couldn’t tell if we had gotten lucky or if something else was going on. While our closest friends knew what was going on and had all blocked Jay when Liz had, we had some friends of friends that Liz knew were still close to him. We had a close friend reach out to one of Jay’s friends. This guy said that no one had heard or seen from Jay in about 3 weeks, he had missed 2 parties he said he would be at and hadn’t posted on socials for a while (Jay was the kind of guy who would post on Insta 3 to 4 times a week. I should’ve left the whole thing go there, but my curiosity got the better of me. I reached out to a friend in the middle of February who works in the restaurant industry. I knew that they had been in conversations with Jay’s new company about becoming a client. This friend told me that they hadn’t heard from Jay in over a month but that there was a rumor going around that Jay’s business partner and I guess the whole new business was tied to some sketchy stuff and a lot of the restaurants he knew of had gotten cold feet. No one had heard from Jay in a while and this friend had not seen him at a recent industry event. This caused one of our friends and me to go into detective mode. Back when Jay had first moved back to the area, a bunch of us were invited over to a party at his house which was a huge mansion in a super wealthy area. Liz and I were having a hard time remembering but feel like he was telling people he had just bought it. Last week, the friend who I’ve been doing detective-y stuff with found that house on a website full of luxury homes for long-term rental. We checked on Zillow and the house was last sold almost a decade ago so we don’t think that he bought it and rented it out. We looked up a news report for when his company sold and we don’t see his name anywhere in the article. That being said, the only person it named was the CFO so maybe he was an owner? We can’t figure it out. So that’s it. We don’t have any answers for what happened to Jay. We can’t figure out if he was just a sketchy guy whose new company had closed or if he was some kind of scam artist. Part of me thinks that he got a payday and is probably living in Costa Rica or something but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been telling stories the entire time. Maybe he only owned a few shares in the company so he had a bit of cash but conflated his role and his bank account? I don’t think we will ever have answers. On the plus side, it seems like he’s out of our lives, and while we are continuing to keep an eye out, we are hoping we don’t ever have to see him again. TLDR: Liz blocked him, possibly into the shadow realm I am not The OOP submitted by /u/Direct-Caterpillar77 to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

First | Previous | Next Patreon | Official Subreddit | Series Wiki “So, does that weapon of yours have a name?” The wolf inquired with unrestrained enthusiasm. If his voice didn't already give it away, then the ferocious wagging of his tail most certainly did. “There’s… a lot of nomenclature involved, but for the purposes of this conversation I’ll try to keep it brief. We call it a gun, Thalmin.” The gun. A tool as varied in complexity as the problems it was designed to solve. An answer to a question that has been asked in a thousand different languages, over a thousand different ways, across a thousand different eras. A question that ultimately boiled down to a single, simple, sentence: What is the most effective way to kill? For most of human history, and the Nexus it seems, the answer was almost always reliant on solutions as simple and as limiting as the hands that gripped them. From the club to the blade and the spear to the polearm, strength and skill had proven itself time and time again as the only reliable means to achieving this deceptively simple end. Acting as the indisputable limiting factor to any who attempted to answer this age old question. This placed a hard limit on things. Most notably, it restricted scalability and accessibility. Civilization, however, wasn’t ever content on leaving a question of such importance answered so half-heartedly. The Nexus seemed to stumble upon a better answer to this question by virtue of their inherent gifts, extending their effective reach, and embracing the natural advantage afforded to them in the form of mana manipulation. Humanity, however, wasn’t so fortunate. We didn’t have the ability to summon lightning, earthquakes, and magic missiles right out of the gate. We didn’t have the privilege of evolving a second, unseen set of limbs through which to manipulate the world around us in ways previously inconceivable. All we had to our name was a set of two gangly hands, ending in those five, blunted, wiry digits. But that didn’t stop us. In fact, it was those very ‘limitations’ that forced us to think outside the box. As what we lacked in claws, in fangs, in venom, or in magics, we made up for in deductive reasoning and innovation. For all it took was a simple mix of chemistry and metallurgy for the tides to truly shift, and by the advent of industry, that shifting tide had all but become an unassailable wave leading to nearly two millennia worth of further refinements and unprecedented advancements. Two millenia, that saw us starting off with bamboo tubes with some spicy powder, before arriving at fifth generation composalite with a veritable buffet of chemical propellants and magnetic accelerants to choose from. Although unlike the Nexus, what we had wasn’t a force multiplier exclusive to a select few, nor one that was gatekept behind ancient tomes and hidden spells. What we had was a weapon. One that only took two hands, a good eye, some bullets, and a tempered resolve to wield. A weapon that with a single squeeze of a trigger, was capable of bringing forth to the table a destructive potential once locked behind decades of training and practice. A weapon which was capable of bringing that same destructive potential to bear consistently and without fail, until you ran out of bullets or resolve. This weapon wasn’t rare, either. It wasn’t locked away in a far flung tower to be handed and gifted to adventurers daring and brave enough to make the long, perilous journey. Nor was it talked about under hushed breaths within the dark corners of taverns or the deepest depths of a scholar’s study. It was as common, or perhaps even more common, than your average spear. It was so ubiquitous that there were, at the present era, enough of them to arm every single human currently alive more than a hundred times over. Humanity, with all of its so-called ‘shortcomings’ with a lack of magic, mana, or other such natural ‘gifts’, had answered this age-old question with the ultimate testament to its indomitable resolve. A resolve which was only satisfied so long as the envelope kept being pushed. To forever address and re-address all of life’s questions, especially the ones that were so crucial to its continued survival. To do anything but innovate, to be satisfied with the current standard, was to invite stagnation to begin its inevitable creep. “So, what would you like to know about guns?” I asked Thalmin with an excitable grin underneath my helmet, the wave of underlying anxiousness that had lingered from the battle being supplanted somewhat by this new hyperfixation. A part of me knew this was a temporary distraction from the uneasy feeling still welling within my gut, but another part of me knew there was no point in allowing it to eat at me more than it already had. Or, at least that’s what I told myself. “Well first off-” “Can we see it?” Thacea, surprisingly, interjected with a great deal of apprehension, cutting off Thalmin before he could even finish his sentence. Both Thalmin and I turned to face each other in a small bout of disbelief, but just as quickly turned back to Thacea with a toothy grin on both of our respective faces. The avian, however, didn’t seem to share in either of our enthusiastic spirits. We made our way over to the sofas and lounge chairs, set against the backdrop of the deep orange rays of the dwindling sunlight. It was here that I once more found myself palming my holster, and the magnetic locks that kept my sidearm virtually impossible to rip from my side. The only real way of doing so would be to disable the suit’s power supply, which really did give a whole new meaning to prying it from my cold dead hands. “Alright.” I spoke to no one in particular as I flicked open the maglocks, only for my heart to flutter. This… wasn’t the fluttering of excitement, however. I knew how that felt, and this wasn’t it. It took me a second to recompose myself before I realized what it was, as that uneasy feeling of gut-churning vertigo came back with a vengeance only to disappear again as soon as it began. My breath hitched for a moment, my shaky hands taking a second to steady themselves. My mind didn’t immediately register it, but the feeling was undeniably similar to when I’d first unlocked the pistol from my side back in the gardens. I refused to let it get to me however. It was literally just one engagement, I was fine. Resuming the motions that had all but been drilled into muscle memory by this point, I pulled out the gun in a single swift motion, the weapon’s safeties automatically set by default as paired with the suit’s current threat alert status. As expected, both Thacea and Thalmin’s gazes were utterly transfixed by the decidedly simple weapon held firmly in my hand. Though it was clear to me that it wasn’t its design or ornamentation that caught their eye, but the raw destructive potential it held within such a small, compact, and unassuming form. They’d seen what it was capable of after all. They knew it could kill. And it was clear from Thacea’s piercing gaze that she was trying to dissect it, even before I started explaining anything. With Thacea seemingly caught in a trance, it was Thalmin who broke the awed silence with a question I thought I could anticipate coming from a mile away. Emphasis on the thought part. “Well, two observations first and foremost. One, that’s a very unassuming name for such an impressive weapon. Two, that’s a very bland and frankly, uninspired design for such an impressive weapon. All of this leads me to believe that the people of your realm do not know the ways of the aesthetic arts as it applies to weapons crafting and design.” The lupinor mercenary prince had put his all into roasting my gun. So unexpected was this response that I was caught completely off guard. Though it was clear by the tone of his voice, and by the exaggerated expressions on his lupine face, that this was more a facetious jab than anything. “And I like it that way.” The prince quickly added with a sly smirk. “Flashiness does not a good weapon make.” He spoke resolutely. “I know a good weapon when I see one. A masterfully crafted blade and a mana-imbued artifice, needs only speak for itself in the heat of battle. I judge a good weapon the same way I judge a soldier’s character: by their actions and not their boisterous displays. The moment a weapon attempts to speak outside of its intended role, is the moment that weapon loses all pretenses of its original purpose, relegating it to becoming more of a decorative piece than a functional tool. The design of a weapon ultimately speaks volumes to the values of its people of origin. Which in your case Emma… means that my respect for your people yet again grows stronger.” I couldn’t help but to feel the inklings of a grin forming across my face at the lupinor prince’s bait-and-switch. “Well Thalmin, if you think this thing is bland, I don’t know what you’d make of some of the ergonomic monstrosities some of the psychos back at home had come up with over the years.” I chuckled, my whole body shuddering at the thought of some of the freak designs humanity had come up with over the millennium. “Compared to what’s being passed off as standard issue nowadays, this thing is borderline art.” I spoke off handedly, which seemed to catch Thacea’s attention, but not enough to elicit any questions or comments just yet as she merely looked on with that same apprehensive look of dread. Thalmin, however, seemed content enough to continue with an unrestrained bout of enthusiasm. “Let’s leave that discussion for another day, for now, I want to know just how this gun of yours works, Emma. I think that's what we're both dying to hear!” The Lupinor’s eyes met my own, giving me a look that could best be described as a cross between the ravenous hunger of a fully-fledged predator and a half-grown pup’s insistence on begging for seconds. It was clear we were beating around the bush up to this point, so I made no further pretenses in delaying the inevitable, as I placed my gun on the table for both to clearly see. “You can look, but just don’t touch it.” I warned, taking stock of the ravenous gaze of the mercenary prince as I did so. “I’m serious. I apologize if I might come across as patronizing when I say this: but this is a weapon, and where I come from, there’s an expectation of level-headed awareness and respect that must be observed when handling any weapon. Especially guns.” Thalmin’s expressions changed somewhat, whilst still very much ravenous to learn, his gaze shifted towards something of a more reserved one. As if that explanation had triggered something else in his mind. “The sign of a good warrior lies in the respect for their weapon, this extends beyond its use and maintenance, to its treatment within contexts not bound to the scope of battle. I understand your caution, Emma, and I respect it. Please, proceed.” “There’s… a lot to unpack.” I began with a deep breath. “It’s been two thousand years since the inception of the gun, and a great deal has changed over that course of time. It would be a lie to say that some fundamentals haven’t changed either. But I’ll try my best to break it down. What you see in front of you is a specific class of gun that falls into an overarching category we refer to as kinetic-based weapons systems, or KWS’ for short.” “I’m starting to see that your culture seems to have a rather unhealthy affinity for abbreviations, Emma. Dare I say it, it’s almost as if you abhor long-winded titles, yet still desire to maintain it in your own convoluted ways.” Thalmin briefly interrupted with a dry chuckle, before raising a single hand for me to continue; that one gesture was perhaps the closest he got to living up to his noble heritage thus far. Well, he isn’t wrong… I thought to myself, before moving onward just as swiftly. “At its core, KWS’ work by accelerating a solid-state projectile at high velocities towards its intended target. The end goal, as you can imagine, is usually to inflict damage through penetration for the purposes of neutralization.” “Like a bow or a crossbow?” Thalmin interjected once more, this time however it was done in a clear attempt to understand, as he attempted to tie the concept to something he had some familiarity with. “Fundamentally, yes. They both accelerate a solid-state object towards a target. However, there’s a component of that description that places bows, crossbows, and any mechanically-charged weapon into its own sub-category.” “That component being?” “The fact that contemporary KWS’ are defined by the accelerant component being anything other than mechanical. And by mechanical, I mean a user’s strength. The draw of a bowstring, the cranking of a crossbow’s winches, all of that qualifies as mechanical-charging as it relies on the user putting in the energy to fire the projectile forwards. In effect, any kinetic weapon which relies on the direct or compound translation of physical strength to kinetic energy, is no longer really utilized and so isn’t classified as a contemporary KWS.” I explained as best I could, which led to more questions on the part of the lupinor. “You’re speaking as if you’re leading up to an explanation that involves mana.” The mercenary prince spoke bluntly. “If it isn’t for, in your words, mechanical charging, then what other method is there to propel a projectile forwards? It’s at this point that I’d expect a Nexian mage to come in to enlighten us on the wonders of mana-imbued weaponry. But-” The lupinor prince paused for effect, as if to emphasize the point he was making. “I understand that mana is dangerous and entirely unheard of in your realm. So, and this is not my attempt to sound like Ilunor-” He leaned in forwards, his eyes practically inches away from the gun at this point. “Pray tell, what exactly is causing this hidden projectile to surge forwards at speeds reserved only for the mana-imbued weapons of the Nexian outer guards?” The wolf was very much animated at this point, his tonality, his expressions, everything about him was trying desperately to understand a weapon so far removed from his reality. Which gave me pause as Thacea seemed to be doing the exact opposite, as she sat there, completely unflinching, her eyes still glued to the weapon sitting idly on the wooden coffee table. “You’re right, Thalmin.” I acknowledge the wolf’s assertions with a single nod. “There’s no mana involved. In fact, I think you could tell by the lack of any ‘mana-fields’ around it when idle and in use.” I shuddered as my mind went back to the battle for the split second, only for me to force those images out of my head as quickly as they’d apparated. “All that’s involved is a clever manipulation of the laws of the natural world, and a game of trial and error that stretches back over two thousand years.” I decided that the best way to move forward, the best way to truly hammer home the core fundamentals of how the gun worked was by visually demonstrating it. Without the actual discharge aspect of it of course. I removed the gun’s ‘magazine’, placing it butt first on the table, as I palmed one of the few physical indents on the device, releasing just one of the immaculately-packaged ‘rounds’ that would’ve seemed entirely foreign to anyone born prior to the 25th century. Advancements in material sciences, applied chemistry, and in the reliability of military-grade electronics, coupled with centuries of aggregated datasets across hundreds of wars had made what was once a fragile and expensive novelty into something that had now all but phased out the traditional firearm. This shift was subtle, adoption having been staggered, until a certain point where it all seemed to happen at once; akin to any other paradigm shift in human technology. Caseless became the standard, electronic firing mechanisms and electrothermal-chemical technologies supplanted traditional mechanical actions, barring a few exceptional circumstances. This mission, almost being one of them. “This.” I held the ‘round’ between my fingers, pinching what amounted to a rectangular pellet that looked as if it’d come straight out of a stack of those hi-chew candies. “Is both the projectile, and what we call the ‘propellant’, basically the stuff that allows the projectile to be pushed forwards.” I started simply, before I began pointing at the aforementioned parts which made up the cartridge. “Whilst its design has changed over the years, the fundamental principles have remained more or less the same. You ignite the propellant, causing a controlled explosion, which pushes the projectile forward.” I explained succinctly, yet still felt as if I’d let down over two thousand years of ballistics experts and gun enthusiasts alike. Having reduced their lives’ works and passions into a single, simplified sentence. It was at this point that Thalmin’s expressions began to shift. His excitement had become restrained, his perky ears remained as they were, but seemed tense as they refused to flutter about as they usually did with every cock of his head. Something started to click inside of the wolf, as his questions began reflecting his newfound understanding of the terrifying weapon sat benignly in front of him. “So if I’m to understand this correctly.” He began, his voice retaining its curiosity, but with its excitement dampening down towards a more reserved one of concern. “That small little-” “Cartridge.” I quickly added. “-Cartridge.” The wolf mimed back, before continuing. “Barely the size of one quarter of my finger, is what killed the null?!” His voice shook, not in fear, but moreso in disbelief. “Well, yes, the bullet did. Which, given current technologies, is what makes up most of the cartridge nowadays.” I attempted to explain. This would be the perfect time to slip in the I bought the whole bullet, and I intend on using the WHOLE bullet joke. But I knew this wasn’t the time or the place for it. “Right.” The wolf nodded several times over, though still looked as if he was somewhat lost. “I think I get it-” “What Emma means is that a single cartridge contains both the projectile and the accelerator. The projectile takes a portion of the weight and size, and by the same logic, the accelerator, be it a powder, a solid, or what have you, must also share that same space. That’s why a point was made in order to delineate between the bullet and the rest of the cartridge.” Thacea blurted out in a string of words that carried with it a heaviness of intense realization that mimicked the shock and awe from our discussions regarding the nature of human technologies the previous night. It was honestly quite jarring hearing the explanation coming out of the avian’s beak, given that everything she said was entirely accurate, at least to the extent of what I’d divulged thus far. This meant that she’d sat there, absorbing every last scrap of information, without misunderstanding a single beat. “That’s… all entirely accurate, princess.” I reaffirmed, my tone of voice clearly relaying just how impressed I was from the avian’s deductive reasoning skills. With that being said, it wasn’t surprising that Thacea temporarily took the reins of the conversation over from Thalmin as her piercing gaze now landed on the gun and the cartridge I held between my fingers. “To delve deeper into the specifics of this weapon… am I correct in assuming that these cartridges are single-use?” “When discussing this specific type of cartridge, yes.” I answered simply, which seemed to elicit a slight twitch of the avian’s feathers. “And am I correct in assuming that there exists some complex… mana-less mechanism by which this propellant is ignited?” “That’s a given for all guns, but the complexity really depends on the specific system each model uses.” There was a sudden pause as Thacea seemed to be taking everything in. Her eyes never once deviating from its fixated gaze on the cartridge I still held between my fingers. “Emma, if you’ll allow me to begin another line of questioning, I would like to inquire further into the specifics behind the implications of your statements regarding this weapon’s model.” Thacea began, before diving deep. “The existence of models implies other competing smithies with similar weapons. However, the nature of this weapon seems to be so very… precise. It seems more akin to a hyper specialized artifice, one which a team of leading blacksmiths would find challenging to make, let alone a competing number of smithies. This is not to mention how I am being led to believe that this weapon is being utilized en masse, given your mentioning of this particular model being a standard issued weapon. Which brings me to my next point…” The avian took a deep, sharp breath. “Emma, are you implying that this model of weapon, and others like it, are the standard weapon-of-carry for the soldiers of your realm?” It was clear to me now what had been gnawing at the princess throughout this entire conversation. And it was clear that only one answer would address this gnawing anxiety, as I took a deep breath in before responding simply, and bluntly. “Yes.” The color from the pair’s faces had all but been drained at that answer. Or at least, I assumed that was what the puffing up of Thacea’s feathers and the deep sullen whine from Thalmin meant. It was with this revelation that Thalmin had firmly placed his entire muzzle into the crook of his hands. I could see his pupils dilating, his leg starting to shake in place, as the ramifications of this revelation started to sink in. “Every soldier’s a battlemage.” He spoke under hushed breaths to himself. “Correction, every soldier equipped with outer-guard grade enchanted equipment and near-tier artificed weaponry.” Thacea quickly added in a series of deep, resonant coos. “What… what of swords? Surely your people couldn’t have just done away with melee combat.” The wolf continued to mutter out, his mind clearly going through the wringer as he tried to visualize a whole world, an entire realm, armed with the same ranged weapons. “What sort of combat is fought when everyone fights on the same playing field as a Nexian Outer-Guardsman? I can’t even begin to visualize…” The wolf trailed off, which prompted Thacea to take his place. The poor wolf clearly began entering a series of internalized crises as the avian spoke. “The only limiting factor I see is that this weapon, unlike swords and enchanted armaments, is rendered entirely useless without these cartridges.” The avian deduced. “To deploy an army armed exclusively with such weapons must require an immense number of these cartridges, which leads me to the disturbing thought of a society that places an inordinate amount of time, effort, energy, on such an esoteric fixation.” The avian turned to face me now, piercing eyes of genuine concern and disbelief meeting my own. As if to ask me by virtue of this one question if humanity was actually sane. “But we do… and all I can tell you right now is that we have more than enough to supply our armies for decades-long campaigns if we needed to, and that’s just the active stores.” “But why?” Thacea snapped back. “Because we have no other choice.” I expressed emphatically. “We weren’t born with the advantages afforded to everyone else. We weren’t magically imbued with the ability to fly, to summon lightning, to crack open the earth with a single glance, but we always wanted to, and so we did. And when I say we didn’t have a choice, I don’t mean that this was done out of desperation, but rather, out of a natural extension of our developmental trajectory. The state of affairs we find ourselves in is a direct result of a society that thrives on continued innovation out of necessity and in response to new, unprecedented challenges. This has always been the case with humankind, and it continues to be the case as we press onward.” Another silence descended on the room after I’d made my case. A silence which emphasized the sheer dread on the pair’s faces as they both slowly came to terms with these series of earth-shattering revelations on their own terms. “I’d say you pressed onwards in a way that far superseded what anyone could’ve ever expected from a mana-less civilization, Emma.” Thalmin turned to me with a tired, exasperated smile. As if trying to mask the growing level of apprehension still welling within him. I shrugged, all the while trying to make sure I was still forcing out a more amenable tone of voice. “It’s the only way we know how to press on.” “Well for your sakes, and for your realm’s sakes, and for the sake of all those who have yet to have bent under the weight of the Nexus’ yoke… I hope you don’t stop.” Thalmin’s tone slowly entered one of a confident sincerity. It was clear what he was hinting at, as difficult as it was for him to really put it into words. That fiery zeal of resistance, that open discontent with the Nexus, there was only one thing he could be hinting at with that brazen statement. “We have no intent on changing our direction or momentum anytime soon.” I shot back with a confident nod. “With all of that being said… you need some rest, Emma.” Thacea urged, gesturing towards the rapidly setting sun as she did so. “But, I need to head over to the weapons inspection-” “We can’t afford you to crash at the weapons inspection, Emma. We need you in tip top shape, so come on, it’s time to rotate out.” Thalmin urged with a toothy grin of reassurance. “Like we said, Emma. We’ll watch over you while you rest.” Thacea quickly added. “Besides! There’s a good…” Thalmin paused, reaching over to grab what looked to be a similar variant of the pocket watch I saw Thacea pulling out earlier in the dining hall. “Four? Five hours to rest before the night’s end?” I let out a massive sigh as I regarded the pair with weary, worn out eyes. Who was I kidding, I fucking needed the sleep. “Alright, I think I’ll catch three or four hours of shuteye.” I managed out through a yawn. “Should give me about an hour for the weapons inspection.” With a group sentiment of agreement, I began walking off, my sights set on the tent, and the cold hard flexible composite floor that called my name. First | Previous | Next ​ (Author’s Note: Hey guys! This chapter was a huge challenge to write as I know that there's a lot of buildup and thus expectations regarding the matter of Emma's weapon! It went through quite a few changes and edits, in order to make sure that all the details and characterizations were alright, I really hope what I have now lives up to expectations! :D The next Chapter is already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!) [If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 24 of this story is already out on there!)] submitted by /u/Jcb112 to r/HFY [link] [comments]

First | Prev | Next Patreon | Series wiki | Official subreddit | Discord --- Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, United Nations Fleet Command Date [standardized human time]: December 5, 2136 Sitting behind the helm of a ship felt cathartic, after my long absence from the captain’s chair. Tyler volunteered as my copilot, while Onso lounged in the backseat. The Yotul seemed too casual for our current suicide mission. Even with the UN’s distraction, there was a chance the Arxur would come after us on our descent. Dominion forces were concentrated around Sillis’ supercontinent, since circumplanetary targeting was not an option. While the unique geography narrowed the staging points available, it also condensed settlements into a single region. That meant less bombs were needed to cover the planet. Our plan was to slip the shuttle in on the ocean side, as the Terrans hounded the grays head-on. I wondered how our original defensive line, which had vanished into the atmosphere, would factor in. Perhaps they can cover our ass during atmospheric re-entry. That’s if they’re not involved with the rescues themselves. Those vessels would be the easiest ones to sneak down to the surface, given that they didn’t have an Arxur buffer in the way. Getting back up to orbit would be a challenge though, and the grays watched for evacuation ships. Small patrollers weren’t built to tote more than a handful of passengers regardless. Outside help was required to rescue entire platoons. Tyler blinked his icy eyes. “Take us in, Sovlin. Godspeed.” “You think predators would build guns into evacuation shuttles,” I grumbled. “Might be helpful for your trigger-happy pal to shoot anything that moves.” “In most events that we’re using these, it’s a dire emergency and we’re abandoning ship. These aren’t average transports.” Onso narrowed his eyes. “But why can’t we abandon ship with guns?” “I don’t build these things! Are we going to sit here and argue about this all day?” This was no time for playful banter; action was picking up on the viewport. The Terran fleet moseyed in with purposeful movements, and ensured that the Arxur spotted their advance. Dominion vessels rushed out to meet the numerically inferior armada, leaving the ocean side open. I increased our acceleration, and broke out of our low-emissions glide. Until now, our shuttle had been taking a quiet course to flank the enemy. It was impossible to tell which ship was commandeered by Captain Monahan. Carlos and Samantha were in over their heads alone on sensors, but I trusted our replacements to pick up the slack. The worst Terran crew member was probably more fit for service than the average herbivore. Humans were nothing if not competent in combat. We just needed this distraction to work as planned, to reaffirm that very idea to the grays. The Terran armada dispensed a few explosives to attract attention. The grays took the bait, once their unsophisticated brains zeroed in on the UN’s aggression. Backing down from a duel signaled weakness; the humans and the Arxur were both obsessed with not appearing infirm. Pride was a shared trait between the two predator species, and seemingly, our primitive Yotul. I was unconvinced Onso wouldn’t run off and get us killed the second we landed. My eyes darted to our data feed. “It seems our side is getting their snouts bashed in. I hope this is worth it.” In close-range combat, the UN was unequipped for a confrontation without resorting to tricks. The humans’ front line was getting picked off several at a time, evidenced by the explosions in the viewport. I wasn’t sure how much time they could buy us, so I kicked our speed up another notch. No Arxur had come to intercept our shuttle, and we had breached Sillis’ high orbit already. My heart was hammering in my throat all the same. Perhaps my fear was for the crew we’d abandoned. Our minimal numbers couldn’t resist an Arxur charge; there were less than a thousand vessels in the shadow fleet. The Dominion had six times that ship count at hand, and were using most assets at their disposal. Following their humiliation across the sector, this was personal. Rare instances of teamwork sprouted, with the grays ganging up on wounded Terran craft. We need more numbers. Surely the UN defensive line is coming any second, right? Blips blinked onto my radar, as friendly contacts emerged from Sillis’ orb on cue. The Arxur had learned that humans practiced ambush tactics, and their rear flank was ready for the sneak attack. The enemy vessels swiveled around on a dime, unleashing munitions with prejudice. The resurfacing Terrans lobbed explosives back, desperate to stem the tide. The grays’ onslaught was unrelenting, with minimal attention given to any inbound missiles. “Pick up the pace!” Tyler barked. “I imagine we’re pulling all ships back at any moment.” I sighed in exasperation. “I’m going as fast as I can. Do you want the ship to break apart on descent?” Onso bared his teeth. “Is it better to get gunned down up here? As the humans say, no guts, no glory!” “There is no glory in being scattered across Sillis’ orbit! What is wrong with you?” “Yeah, I think we need to wean you off Earth sayings, buddy. You interpret them all with the utmost aggression,” the blond predator muttered. “I’ll try again. Ahh, a predator! Its eyes are forward facing…and it f-flashed its teeth!” The Yotul utilized a high-pitched voice, and faked an occasional stutter. “It’s an evil abomination and needs to d-die! That better, Tyler?” “You’re too much.” The primitive was distracting me from my approach, so I shut his antics out from my mind. The shuttle obeyed my commands, its slender frame humming softly. I offered a final bit of juice to the engines, and they answered with a hearty push. This would be a tricky entry, but there was no option to follow safety guidelines. If the Arxur circled over to us, we would be easy pickings. Marcel and Slanek’s survival relied on us getting through to the planet. I’d rather take a riskier path, and know I’d done everything in my power to save them. Everyone onboard this shuttle was willing to gamble with our fates, for our comrades’ good. The thought of the duo in an Arxur farm made my blood simmer; it was an unacceptable outcome. Both of them had suffered enough at my paws. The shuttle blazed toward Sillis’ azure surface, and I leaned forward with concentration. The shadow fleet was pulling back, while the UN defensive outfit covered for them behind enemy lines. Those re-emerged friendlies followed suit shortly after, dipping back into the Tilfish world’s atmosphere. A few grays gave chase, not wanting to let the Terrans slip under the radar again. “Two Arxur cruisers changing course, and targeting us for interception,” Tyler growled. I gritted my teeth. “They won’t catch us. They won’t try to follow this descent.” My claws smacked the throttle lever, and pushed us well past recommended output. We hurtled toward Sillis at a breakneck pace, while the Arxur clocked in at sensible speeds. Their vector lessened the distance between us, but it wasn’t closing the gap fast enough. The planet ahead was enlarging much quicker, and our trajectory scraped the edge of the atmosphere. Humans built for durability, so I had to trust that emergency shuttles could take a beating. Actively accelerating into a descent was madness, and even Tyler looked nauseous. The shuttle frame quivered from the stress, sending jolts through my body. Controls offered erratic responses, and I warred with the steering column. Alarms blared from the main systems, warning us of excessive heat. The temperature climbed on the interior accordingly, as hull shielding failed to contain the environmental effects. Incineration was an agonizing way to die; an undercurrent of fear ebbed through my veins. I cobbled myself together enough to check our sensors. The Arxur contacts were pulling back, and our track on them was spotty. That meant they were losing us as well. I hurled all power into reverse thrusters, and corrected our descent angle. The harness dug into my shoulders, as it restrained me during the sudden shift. Tyler’s face had gone ashen, and he squeezed his eyes shut. The massive predator was not enjoying the turbulent ride. The shuttle’s velocity slowed, though not before our hull had taken a beating. “I’ve got it under control,” I gasped out. “Going to bring us in low and fly to the stated coordinates.” Tyler groaned. “You unstable, neurotic Gojid! You were about two seconds from getting us cooked.” “No guts, no glory. Sovlin’s an honorary Yotul after that stunt!” Onso yipped. Don’t insult me like that, I thought to myself. I grew up with electricity. I leveled out the shuttle’s flight course, once we neared the choppy water. The waves were a blur at our speed, zooming by as I gunned it toward our location. It was dizzying to look at our surroundings, but the human was gawking all the same. It was rare to fly with such quickness in-atmosphere, due to civilian traffic and hazards. “You don’t realize how fast supersonic flight is in space.” Tyler pressed his hand to his chin, and turned his eyes toward me. “Here, you can tell what our velocity is. You see the world zooming by.” I drummed my claws on the console. “There’s no time to waste. I’m just keeping enough altitude to clear any buildings. Marcel’s coordinates are inland a bit.” “You did great, Sovlin. But hey…I’m still not sure it’s a good idea for you to make an appearance.” “Marcel visited me in jail. I hope my presence will not be an undue burden on him. I will comply with whatever his wishes are.” Our shuttle cleared wide patches of ocean, and another yawn crossed Tyler’s face. The sensors officer hadn’t slept since the battle commenced; I suspected the big predator craved a distraction. He could chat anyone’s ear off, if he got started on a topic he liked. Perhaps he’d be interested in jawing about his family? The shoreline would be visible within a minute, so he just needed to stay awake a little longer. I cleared my throat. “What’s something you did as a child that you cherish, Tyler?” “Right on. Me and my pops used to go out to the lake, rent a boat,” the human reminisced. “We’d sit out there for hours and shoot the wind. You know, enjoy nature. Our relationship’s become…estranged, but I miss fishing with him. We caught some real beauts.” “Your FAVORITE childhood pastime is water hunting?! Your father took his kid to do this?” “Hey, chill out! It’s not like we ate any. We just caught ‘em on a hook, took a picture, and threw ‘em back.” “That…then what was the point of catching them?! Just when I stop thinking of you as predators, you say shit like that! You torment fish for father-son bonding time.” Onso suppressed a growl. “I rarely cry ‘predator’, but that is twisted and unnatural. It would be fine if you were seeking food, but you are just doing it for kicks.” “It’s just a way to relax, man. And maybe some humans do like hunting; so what? It’s not like we’re killing them.” Disgust swelled in my chest, hearing the predator discuss hunting as “relaxing” entertainment. I could picture the blond beast on a boat, giggling as he toyed with a suffocating fish. To think that a father passed those behaviors to his son! How could an empathetic species consider that a socially acceptable pastime? How did Tyler not see how fucked up that hobby was? I brooded for the rest of the journey, scowling out the windshield. Buildings blurred beneath us, alongside charred ruins and mushroom clouds. There was no telling if Marcel’s corner of Sillis was intact. That human, who I knew was vegetarian, would surely recognize the ethical flaws in his packmate’s sadism. I hadn’t thought Officer Cardona was a vicious animal before now. Tyler tapped my shoulder as we landed. “Shit, I’m sorry. I know that’s a sensitive subject for you guys. I was just thinking about the one time my dad was proud of me, and it was that.” “W-well, that’s fucked. Your father instilled heinousness in you. P-parents have a responsibility to teach their kids good values,” I managed. “Right. We cool?” “Yeah. Let’s go kill some Arxur.” I couldn’t look at the primate the same, thinking of him learning predation. Humans claimed that they didn’t hunt in the modern day; Noah said their meat was grown in labs. Clearly, that wasn’t the whole truth, if Tyler had no qualms about his family outings. How could any feeling person go along with that? Tyler admits Terrans are violent and bloodthirsty. Sometimes, those base instincts must be given higher consideration than their empathy. Humans policed themselves with moral laws; progress was still needed on the specifics. When hunting was ingrained in their ancestry, it made sense that remnants persisted into the civilized era. The predators just needed an introduction to proper values. I was certain well-meaning brutes like Tyler could learn that animals weren’t playthings. I parked the shuttle on a sidewalk, in close proximity to Marcel’s coordinates. With the Arxur traipsing about, this was no time to relapse into human phobia. Onso snapped his gun up and clambered out into the open. I checked my surroundings, before raising my own weapon. There was nothing around us besides the faint glow of dawn’s sunlight. “Marcel, do you read me?” Tyler croaked into his radio. “It’s me, Tyler. Your better half. We’ve landed, but I don’t have a visual on you.” The pavement was rough beneath my hindlegs, and the air felt acrid in my throat. I steered a wide path around Tilfish bodies in the street, as did the human. Terrans were averse to death on the Gojid cattle ship, but this was a different response. Tyler had a case of the shakes, rather than wanting to puke. His binocular eyes twitched in an odd way; I wondered darkly when his last meal occurred. Muzzle flashes appeared in our periphery, and I dropped to the ground on instinct. The human herded Onso into a storefront; I scurried over to them on shaking legs. Bullets peppered our refuge, as Arxur enemies rallied to our location. The raiders had established a heavy presence in the city. What if they were looking for Terrans to round up? The blond human tossed an explosive into the street, and high-pitched growls echoed through the air. Peeking through the broken glass, I saw mutilated grays soaked in blood. Whatever Tyler deployed sent shrapnel in a wide radius, and caught the aggressive beasts off-guard. The surviving enemies circled back to regroup, giving us a breather. “Marcel, tell us you’re still alive, bro. We’re right on top of you, and there’s no signs of friendly activity. Have you relocated?” Tyler panted. The Yotul blinked his dilated eyes. “Let’s get back to the ship. I think they’re…” “Shit Tyler, it’s good to hear your voice.” Gunfire sounded in the background, and audible scratches surfaced from Marcel fumbling his radio. “We’re in the sewers. Need backup ASAP!” That information gave me the adrenaline boost I needed. I unloaded a magazine at the approaching Arxur posse, in the hopes of pushing them back. Marcel’s packmate jerked his pupils downward, and rushed over to a manhole cover. The predator searched for a lever, finding one with his hands. Tyler tugged at the mechanism, and robotic systems popped the hatch. Onso growled, as he took down a gray with a well-placed shot. The Yotul protested when Tyler pulled at his shoulders; the primitive was the first to descend into the manhole. The human insisted on being the last one to enter, and hurried me to the ladder next. I hopped down the rungs, jumping into the mucky tunnel. Tyler dropped onto the ground, landing awkwardly on his ankle. He’d sealed the cover behind him, and I hoped that would delay our attackers. Thankfully, our shuttle could be locked to human biometrics; that should prevent the Arxur from running off with our ride. We didn’t need the same problem I had on the Harchen’s Blissful Modernity. “My leg is fucked. Double-time it, people,” the tall Terran barked. “Onso, if you ever wanted to charge in…now’s a good time.” Now that we were in the tunnels, I could detect the same gunfire I’d heard on the radio. My ears assured me the fight was still ongoing, but Slanek had already been wounded before this clash. With Marcel stuck guarding his Venlil buddy, there was no telling if he could best the Arxur. His band was lucky to survive on Sillis this long. I channeled my inner Onso, dashing off like a madman. This was my opportunity to save the human I’d brutalized, and give some meaning to his decision to spare my life. --- First | Prev | Next Patreon | Venlil Foster Program Sample | Series wiki | Official subreddit | Discord submitted by /u/SpacePaladin15 to r/HFY [link] [comments]

First | Previous | Next Things progressed rather quickly after the end of the orientation. In fact, a lot of things seemed to have been expedited for the sake of getting us out of the dining hall and into our dorms as quickly as possible; all without actually saying it of course. The lights around us slowly dimmed after the first few courses of food were served, and as the desserts finally came through, so too did these individualized letters arrive on similarly posh silver platters. Each letter was sealed in an envelope that was custom made for each of us, with different colors, designs, and even a custom wax seal that I’d only seen on period-dramas and movies. My letter however was particularly bland, a starch-white paper that was devoid of any detailing or embellishments, save for my name written on it in stunning cursive and capped off with a plain, unmarked wax seal. Thacea seemed to have taken notice of my hesitation with the letter, as everyone else had already started unsealing them and reading the contents within. “Do not think much of the lack of sigils and regalia, Emma. You’re a newrealmer, so a lack of any identifying markings is to be expected. With time, as the Academy learns more about you, your customs, your people, and your house, I’m more than certain that you will find such official correspondences to be tailored to fit your personal honor.” The avian attempted to reassure me, completely missing the point, but much to her credit reinforcing my assumptions of the Academy. This place wanted to extract as much intel out of me as I was planning to do from it. Things were bound to evolve into an interesting game of cat and mouse, but first, I wanted to see what awaited me inside of this mystery envelope. After unsealing the wax, I was met with a high quality parchment with what I assumed was the Academy’s insignia at its header: two keys crossed diagonally with a wand and book superimposed in the middle, mimicking the titular medieval heraldry of a sword and shield. Within the letter were the contents of the entire orientation summed up in a mini-syllabus, which puzzled me as there didn’t seem to be any new information within the lone piece of A4 parchment. That was, until my finger had traced down to the bottom of the letter, at which point the meticulously crafted calligraphy of the page suddenly melted. LOCALIZED SOURCE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 200% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS The text that had been written in what I assumed was ink simply dematerialized, then melted, before reforming into new letters and words like an unnecessarily complicated slide transition on a PowerPoint presentation. Eventually forming an entirely new page of information. “Heh, surprised Earthrealmer?” Ilunor suddenly piped up after noticing my extended staring. I didn’t know how else he would’ve gauged my reaction given the helmet, so this was more than likely just a provocation made out of spite or some underlying prejudice. I half expected this though given his attitude from before. “What about?” I snapped back, too tired to argue, but also too annoyed to really let that comment slide. “You know, I understand the desire to save face. I really do. But you don’t really need to do so in front of us. We’re your peer group after all, and it’s important for us to know what you have and what you lack in your realm. Newrealmers are generally more… primitive in their predispositions. Seeing text move across parchment must be new to you… indeed, seeing the written word at all must be an entirely new concept for most of your kind for sure.” The diminutive lizard spoke with that same inflated sense of self worth and ego. One that I couldn’t help but to narrow my eyes at despite knowing it wouldn’t be picked up by anyone around me, let alone the lizard. It was at this point that I had a choice to make. I either ignored the discount kobold and continued on reading. Or, I smacked him upside the head with my data-tab just to show him just what moving text actually looked like. The latter would’ve been quite effective too, given the fact that I was assigned a milspec data-tab. So unlike most tablets in the commercial market that prioritized sleekness, thinness, and style all the while sacrificing resilience, milspec tablets still very much resembled the bulky electronic hardware of the 28th, 25th, 23rd, heck, even the early 21st century. It was designed with ruggedness and survivability in mind, so I knew that smacking the lizard upside the head with it would certainly do more damage to him than the tablet itself. I decided on a compromise however, as I wordlessly grabbed my tablet from my belt, turned it towards the lizard, and began scrolling through some of the open tabs I had. Making sure the screen was set to maximum brightness on light mode, and to scroll as fast as possible as tens of pages flew by with each flick of my finger. I only did this for a short moments to prove my point of course, but the reaction I garnered from Ilunor was nothing short of worth it. His mouth hung agape, his pupils constricted from the blinding light, as his whole body seemed to tense as he tried to speak but found himself unable to do so. Stuttered words emerged from his gaping maw, but all of them were quickly shushed by the likes of Thalmin who seemed more annoyed by the lizard’s antics than anything. “B-but the Earthrealmer, they, that… what… what was… that’s not… they’re not supposed to have-” “What? Just spit it out or I’ll bite you.” Thalmin growled, as he and Thacea seemed to be too preoccupied with the contents of their own letters to have paid my little interaction with Ilunor any mind. After recovering from that brief exchange with a triumphant chuckle underneath my helmet, I began combing through the letter for all of the unspoken announcements alluded to during the orientation. What was highlighted above all else however were three, quite understandably, important topics. Dormitory Assignment: Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Weapons Inspection: Conducted by School Blacksmith and Armorer Professor Rowan Heart, at the North Field Proving Grounds, by the stroke of Midnight tomorrow. House Assignments: Conducted by Professor Altalan Rur Astur, Professor Vanavan, and Professor Mal’Tory, location to be determined. No preparations required. Details will be posted to your dorms on the 4th day of the Grace Period. Both the Weapons Inspection and House Assignments worried me greatly. The former was tricky, as on one hand it could be a solid show of force for humanity, which seemed to be sorely needed in an Academy clearly designed to force the upper echelons of the other realms to bend the knee. However on the other hand it could lead to unforeseen consequences, most concerning of which was losing the element of surprise in the case I needed to use it, or worse yet, outright technological theft. I’d have to sleep on it… but suffice it to say, even though my pistol was relatively obsolete by modern standards, it was still leagues beyond whatever this place had. The latter announcement on House Assignments however was a complete mystery, and whilst it gave me bad vibes, I knew I’d have to rely on the likes of Thacea and Thalmin to fill me in on what to expect. It was clear they had prior knowledge of Academy life, so they’d be a vital resource to rely on. I’d worry about that later. The other details listed in the letter were rather mundane, and relatively benign: school supply procurements, uniform tailoring, as well as other assorted details including the schedule for the first semester and the names and offices of all professors assigned to Year 1 students. To be honest I was getting tired by this point as the only thing keeping me up was the latent effects of adrenaline coursing through my veins. It was clear everyone else at the table shared a similar sentiment as yawns and half-lidded eyes abounded all around me. This prompted someone to finally mention the possibility of retiring for the night. “Well if there isn’t anything else we have to do, let’s get moving. We have a new home to look forward to, and we still have to decide on sleeping arrangements.” Thalmin spoke, taking charge as he stood up. Ilunor followed suit, as he glanced towards Thacea. “Let’s just hope our dorm is one of the three-bedroom variety, and not two, because I’d hate to force anyone here to room with our tainted Princess.” He spoke, in a surprisingly calm manner which really clued me in as to how he perceived Thacea. If he could discriminate this passively, then the whole taint discrimination must really run deep. “Even you, Earthrealmer.” He turned towards me. “As much as I find your presence aggravating, I’d rather a quick and proper death than one by inadvertent and unexpected taint consumption.” I ignored the discount kobold once again as all four of us finally made our way out of the Grand Hall and out into the castle proper. En Route to the Dorms The journey up and towards the dorms was one that I’d definitely need the suit’s footage for a deeper analysis later on. There was no way I could remember every twist and turn, every hallway and corridor, every stairway and stairwell, every side passage and connecting room that led us to where we found ourselves now. Indeed, I wasn’t surprised that Ilunor had practically begged me to carry him the rest of the way, as his little lizard legs were clearly not built for scaling the lengths and heights of this verifiable castle of a school. I refused to oblige of course. Until, suddenly, the comparatively small thing all but gave up on walking. Which forced me to bridal carry him the rest of the way towards the dorms. Instead of being happy with the service I’d freely offered him however, he started to wheeze and whine with even more, stirring up my already frayed nerves like a child poking at a big cat enclosure at a zoo. He wasn’t satisfied with the way I was carrying him, for in his own words, being carried like a sack of potatoes ‘wasn’t “becoming” of a noble and being of his standing’. I told him I couldn’t give less of a crap about his standing, and that his little legs barely gave him anything to stand on. The lizard however refused to listen, and instead took it upon himself to rectify this injustice without a chance for me to argue. He scurried up and around my arms, scaling me like some sort of an unruly house cat, before finding himself perched up on my shoulders. However, instead of draping himself across them like a scarf the way my cat usually did, he instead decided to ride me like some glorified jockey, with his legs dangling from my shoulders and his arms firmly cinched up against the chin of my helmet. I would’ve been worried about the helmet slipping off if it wasn’t for the 3 layered hermetic seal and maglocks which kept it tightly affixed to the rest of my armor. The whole affair was somewhat demeaning, and kind of humiliating when you looked at it from an outsider’s perspective, but I really couldn’t care less at that point. I was tired, and at least this kept the lizard’s mouth shut as we made our final approach towards our dorm. Even Thacea and Thalmin refused to comment. Either out of pity for the lizard or out of respect for me having to deal with him. Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. I didn’t know what I was expecting with the accommodations. To be honest, that was the last thing on my mind given the non stop barrage of stressful circumstances that had come to dominate the majority of my evening. A part of me was excited for it though. It was the same intrusive part of my mind that still wanted to see this place for what it clearly wasn’t: a fantasy. Images conjured up from years of hyperfixations on novels detailing the fantastical accommodations in magically inclined schools certainly didn’t help matters. As a former college student I didn’t have high hopes for ‘dorm life’. As an academy student however, the possibilities were endless. Any and all expectations were thrown completely out of the window as the double doors opened, revealing a room that immediately struck me as a design pulled straight out of a 5 star suite in some heritage building dating back to pre-20th century vintage. The double doors gave way to a small hallway which opened up to a living room four, maybe even five times the size of my aunt’s New York City apartment in the heart of the Acela Corridor. Windows that looked more at home in a cathedral dominated the majority of the living space, which was otherwise centered around a fireplace that roared to life as soon as the doors behind us closed shut. A series of sofas, lounge chairs, bookcases, and coffee tables adorned the oak, timber, and granite tiled floors. This complemented what I could only describe as a mix of wood framed wall panels with white accents that felt somewhat precarious when considering that the fireplace ever so often emitted embers that floated high up to the roof. That was another thing I needed to mention right off the bat… The fucking ceilings. Most apartments in the Acela Corridor, the combined megacity that was New York, New Jersey, Boston, Washington DC and Baltimore, had a maximum ceiling height of about 9 feet. You’d be lucky to find a place with ceilings that high in fact, but my Aunt was lucky enough to have inherited a legacy apartment dating back to the late 21st century. The ceiling in this “dormitory”? It went up a good 14, maybe even 20 feet. It actually sort of angled inwards towards a rectangular point, which was more than likely the underside of a roof, meaning we were at the very top floor of one of the castle’s towers. The ceiling tapered up towards these open wood-frame support beams and struts that back on Earth could’ve housed an entire colony of pigeons. Indeed, my overactive imagination conjured up thoughts of Thacea perching upon it given her avian form, a thought which would’ve made me chuckle wildly if not for how awestruck I was from the grandeur of this place. Yet as stunned and in awe as I was, the rest of my peers seemed to walk right through the space without paying much mind, as if it was just another room to them. “What a dump…” Ilunor muttered under his breath, scampering off of my shoulders and back onto his feet. Which surprised me not because he’d consider this place anything but utterly mindblowing, but because he still found it in him to fucking complain even after everything we’ve been through. “Furnishings and quarters more fit for a minor lord or a knight. Say, this would more than likely be what you’re used to, right, Emma of Earthrealm?” Thalmin spoke with that same, gruff tone of voice. It was clear however he was still attempting to play nice, so I responded with the only thing my awestruck self could do at that point. I shrugged. “How’re you finding the quarters, Princess? Are they to your liking?” Thalmin quickly turned to face Thacea, who seemed to be analyzing the place with those piercing eyes of hers. Her hand ran across some of the furnishings as she pinched her fingers together at the slightest bit of dust. “I am partial towards anything the Academy wishes to provide us.” The avian answered diplomatically. “Oh come on, answer truthfully, Princess.” The Lupinor egged her on for a less guarded response. “If I am to be… blunt about it, this place is sorely lacking in amenities as it is in size and design. A hallway leading into a rectangular living quarters, with only two bedrooms flanking the hallway near the entrance? You’re right in your presumptions, Prince Thalmin. These quarters seem to be quite suited for an individual of knightly status or perhaps even a minor lordship.” Thacea responded with sincerity, though remaining tactful in her tone and delivery. “No dining room.” Ilunor mumbled out as he splayed across one of the couches. Again, reminding me of a spoiled feline. “My points exactly.” Thacea responded, while I stared at all of them with an unbreaking expression of utter disbelief. “Alright, enough room talk I think there’s something that I need cleared up.” I interjected, finally breaking through my awestruck gawking with a renewed sense of direction. “Yes, Emma?” Thacea replied promptly. “You said we’d talk about this when we got somewhere less public, so spill it. I want to know what was up with the academic rites thing. I want to know why today’s ceremony was such a big shock to you all. I want to know what the hell is up with everything.” I laid out all my questions, to which Thacea and Thalmin promptly nodded in response. “I appreciate your patience in maintaining discretion for so long, Emma. An answer is the least we can do to reciprocate your tactfulness in handling what must be a very confusing set of circumstances.” Thacea began. “I’ll explain it simply, Earthrealmeer.” Thalmin interjected, as if to take the burden of explanation off of Thacea as it was clear her response was going to be long winded. “What usually happens on the night of arrival is an orientation, not the academic rites ceremony. That’s why everyone was so surprised, that’s why everyone was caught off guard. We had no time to prepare for it, but there were rumors that this year would’ve been exceptional, so, some of us were prepared.” The Lupinor lifted up his ceremonial dagger, pointing at the gem which encrusted the hilt of the blade. Thacea did the same, revealing her necklace and amulet, whilst Ilunor lazily raised his stubby little arm, and pointed at his bracelet. Thacea took over from Thalmin after that. “You see, the relationship between the Academy and us students has always been indicative of the relationship between the Nexus and the Adjacent Realms. The entire school was constructed as a bridge between the realms after all, and after the great war between the Nexus and the Adjacent Realms, there was a level of… animosity and distrust that drove the Nexus to implement radical changes at what was supposed to be neutral ground: the Academy. For you see, the Academy had long since been a center of learning for the most magically gifted of the Adjacent Realms, and those usually consisted of the royalty and nobility, as it was magic that granted the first of the noble houses power to rule over the masses. So with a great concentration of the young, fledgling members of the Adjacent Realm’s elite present at the Academy, the Nexus decided to implement the Academic Rites as a way of directly controlling a significant portion of the upper echelons of the Adjacent Realms.” “Wait, I don’t get it. How is today’s ceremony not supposed to be the way it usually goes? Why do they tolerate the whole amulets or whatever that you have on?” I asked in a rapid fire pace, which prompted Thalmin to respond. “Well, that was how it used to go, Earthrealmer, but things changed. The gist of it is this: relations improved. After we became more accepting of the Nexus’ influence following the war, they became less strict about directly controlling our ruling castes. The ceremony remained as an afterthought, no longer meant to bind us, but instead kept as just tradition. Honestly, they would’ve just removed the rites entirely, but they kept it because they wanted to save face. They didn’t want to seem weak, because if they remove it, well, it’s going to look like they acquiesced to us Adjacent Realmers. So the rites remained, but more like a ceremony than a real rite. That’s why it’s normally always scheduled after orientation and arrival. It gives time for students to prepare, share amulets, and make new ones; so when the time came for the ceremony everyone would resist it by default. It was just for show, literally just a tradition.” Thalmin replied succinctly. “So that’s what was different about today… they literally surprised all of you by bringing back an old policy you expected to have been dead or at least nerfed for ages now.” I surmised, which prompted nods of tentative affirmation from both Thalmin and Thacea. I barely had enough time to process everything before a sharp creaking noise pierced the air just after our discussion had ended. A small door that blended in seamlessly with the rest of the wood paneling of the living room suddenly opened up, revealing faint candlelight emanating from within. Emerging from it was a member of the same diminutive elven race that had read out my name upon entry to the grand hall. This one however seemed much more shabbily dressed, adorned in rags if they could even be called that. They seemed to be dragging out oversized suitcases and luggage, which I immediately assumed belonged to my peers. An assumption that was promptly proven right as Ilunor sighed loudly upon seeing it. “Just place it wherever, aura-less, and leave us alone when you’re done.” Ilunor spoke dismissively. The being bowed deeply in response, as it seemed to be quick in grabbing more luggage and suitcases, which at this point was quickly taken by both Thalmin and Thacea, who gingerly removed them from the elf’s hands as they both spoke at the same time. “That won’t be necessary.” They spoke with sympathy and pity in their voices, Ilunor however instead glared at the whole exchange with an annoyed expression. “The elf is here to serve. Let it serve.” He proclaimed as he snapped his fingers twice. “Where are your manners aura-less. Introduce yourself to your betters.” “A-apologies master. I… I- I am Aurin. I have been assigned as your dormitory’s resident porter. If there is anything I can do, anything at all, I will be at your command throughout the day and night.” The elf spoke, before bowing deeply toward each and every one of us. Thacea and Thalmin’s reactions were easy enough to read. The Princess was wary to show any emotion, but it was clear through those very expressive eyes that a great remorse was welling up within her. Thalmin’s reactions however were far more confusing, as it was clear there was some level of personal shame there, as if he had something to say but couldn’t. “Go back to your hole, we were discussing something important.” Ilunor finally waved the poor thing off, as I was once again stuck there utterly thrown off by everything. As soon as the elf was out of the room however, I felt as if I needed to say something about that whole exchange. I simply couldn’t stand by and watch anymore. This was the last straw. First | Previous | Next ​ (Author’s Note: Things are clearing up with regards to the events of the Grand Hall in this one and more conflicts arise! Also quick note I've seen some people asking so I want to announce that yes I do post this weekly and on Sundays! The next Chapter is already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!) [If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 9 of this story is already out on there!)] submitted by /u/Jcb112 to r/HFY [link] [comments]

We live right behind a restaurant and we have a couple chairs outside that the workers often sit on while on their break. We put them out for this exact purpose because otherwise they sit on our stoop and block our front door and it's awkward to knock on our front door from the inside to get them to move so we can leave our house. And hey, they're on break and deserve to take a load off anyway. We also chat with them pretty often, they're super nice. So we put our extra outdoor chairs out for them, for their comfort and ours. They've been out there for a couple weeks now, and yesterday, the owner of the restaurant was out there looking at them when I came back from work. She's an older woman, maybe 60s or 70s, and she asks if the chairs are mine and I tell her they are. She asked me to put them away because she "pays them to work, not to sit" and that she doesn't want them to be "too comfortable". It's not like they're lounge chairs or anything, just mesh chairs. She said she was planning to just throw them out because she didn't know who they belonged to. Like what the actual fuck, ma'am? I nodded along and was like sure, whatever you say, but today I ordered one of those steel security cables and I'm going to lock them to our railing. She will not be throwing out our property and depriving her workers from being able to sit down ON THEIR BREAK. Fuck that. submitted by /u/awfulnaut to r/antiwork [link] [comments]

I (24M) hosted a friend from college (also 24M) that I haven't seen since before the pandemic. Shortly after he arrives we head to a local bar and grill in our neighborhood. We decided to do the 15-20 minute walk instead of drive so we didn't have to worry about leaving the car. I was joined by my roommate (25M and also a good friend) and his new(ish) girlfriend (22F), who I don't know that well but I have always had friendly encounters with when we have hung out. At the bar drinks flowed freely and my friend seemed to really hit it off with our crew. We stayed longer than expected and it was fully dark and we were well buzzed by the time we decided to walk home. It was still hot outside when we got to the apartment complex so my roommate suggested that we hit the community pool. The pool and hot tub were technically closed for the night but it isn't too close to any of the units and generally no one cares if you are responsible and don't break glass bottles or anything like that. After debating whether to head back to our place to change first my roommate insisted that "we're all friends here" and that we could all just go in the pool in our underwear. Everyone agreed on this although my roommate's girlfriend announced "you guys have fun with that" and proceeded to lounge next to the pool on one of the deck chairs and scroll Instagram. We strip down and hop in the pool and are having a pretty good time just messing around. After some time had passed my roommate was chatting with his girlfriend and then quietly approached me afterwards. Apparently his girlfriend was very uncomfortable with me wearing just briefs in the pool (both my roommate and my friend were wearing boxer briefs) and she wanted me to go all the way back to the apartment and change into a swimsuit. I initially protested and said it was his idea in the first place and how everyone was in their underwear (and none of us cared) and what's the difference, it's not like my underwear was white/see through or anything like that. My roommate asked me to go change for him as a favor so that it didn't "turn into an issue" between him and her. I was pissed but decided to let it go for the time being. When I got back to the apartment an idea popped into my head when it occurred to me that I still had a swimsuit from when I used to swim on the club team in college, so I put on my speedo and head back out armed with another 6 pack for the boys in only a t-shirt, towel wrapped around my waste, and flip flops. I get back to the pool, announced I had changed into my swimsuit (as requested!), drop the towel and ditch the T, and launch into a wicked cannonball into the pool. I can see a wry smile on my roommate's face but nothing else was said about my choice of attire. We go on in the pool and a few minutes later she announces that she's tired and is going to bed. We stay out late including more beers and laughs in the hot tub while the girlfriend was asleep at our place. submitted by /u/knightskater97 to r/MaliciousCompliance [link] [comments]