This is super weird, and even weirder if you have picked parts of characters from a TV show. That means parts of you are the same as parts of someone else. And over time, you may forget entirely that you were mimicking a behavior, to the point that it is now not a mimicked behavior, but you believe it to be wholly original.
Edit because OP deleted his comment: It basically asked the question of "What is self?", then he mused about how he has taken bits and pieces of his friends and families personalities, and formed them into his own personality. He is now unsure of who he really is, is he himself, or is he multiple people combined?
I love the hypothetical “paradox”-ish question of if we are still actually the same physical person throughout our lives. If you have a new boat, and a year after buying it you replace the mast. Another year and you replace the stern, and the steering wheel, and etc., eventually all the parts, is it still the same boat you bought when it was new? Now consider that your body is constantly regenerating itself, even the internal organs and muscles are new tissue than they were a year ago. Are you still the same physical person you were last year?
I guess it’s only a mind-blower if you answer no to the boat question, but still cool to think about.
What percentage of my life do I even remember? My childhood is a dim memory, but so are many average days of my adult life.
I think I could have had a perfect photographic memory if it weren’t for the drugs I started taking at twenty. I remember almost everything from my life, and even though it sounds so unbelievable, I even have a memory from the crib. I’m twenty eight now and my short term memory is shot to hell. At least I’m sober now, though.
It’s all just Marvel stuff? What about, “oh, biggest crossover, etc?” What’s the crossover?
General Cornis strolled along the long rows of capsules, eyeing each set of vitals as he walked by. They were the best of the best. Trained from the day they could sign on the dotted line to the moment they were thrown into sleep-stasis. He came to stand at the end of the row beside an elderly man hunched over a terminal.
"Doctor Williams, what's the count?"
"We're up to 12223 years stored General. Average of 102 days per soldier." Williams shifted the screen so Cornis to take a look. Cornis didn't bother. He just wanted to know where he stood. He heard the the Ruskies had been storing for even longer, but their standing army was smaller than his. China worried him though. The population edge combined with the flexibility on their ethics told him to be wary.
Sleep storage had become the new arms race. Any army that never tired, never stopped. It gave you an operational flexibility that was beyond imagining. You could simply wear down the enemy via the storage edge. It had been one of those unexpected benefits that had come out of the early CRISPR mods. A few snips and substitutions and they got to roll over. A number of other changes to the standard genome were being worked on, but this was the first to hit mass adoption.
For the most part, it meant people were a bit more thoughtful about how and when they got sleep, thinking of it as another asset to be managed. The military immediately thought of the broader applications. Military service now contemplated long sleep induced periods, though the soldiers acquired a variety of benefits for opting into the program as opposed to the traditional circadian draft.
As Cornis gazed upon the rows of capsule, Lieutenant Plunkins strode up beside him and snapped a salute. "Sir, I have an operational update on Project Black Panda sir."
Cornis glanced at him and gave a slight nod. "Proceed."
"Sir, we dropped 6 storage stacked berets into East China where they infiltrated the North Korean border. The mission is expected to take another month as they seek to establish a deep comms base outside of Pyongyang. So far they have evaded capture and have performed above and beyond expectations."
"Where are they at on storage?"
"They went in with the full 180 day complement sir. We expect them to erect the comms base and exit the country within that window."
Cornis nodded, they had been running these operations for the last two years, testing the limits of storage in an operational capacity. So far, there was no diminishment of ability regardless of the time they stayed in the field on account to a lack of sleep. It was a game changer. A complete rethinking of the operational model of the armies.
Major Daniels called in on comms, "General Cornis, we might have a problem. We need your presence up in ops."
"I'm on my way Major." He slapped Doctor Williams on the back, "Good work doctor, keep me informed of progress." He crooked a finger at the Lieutenant, "You're with me Plunkins."
"Yes sir."
They made their way up to the ops center. Major Daniels had an open line with the Joint Chiefs. General Cornis offered a salute. "At ease general. We don't have time for formalities. Where are we at on storage? We're north of 10,000 years sir. 100 day+ average on each."
The Chairmen of the Joint Chiefs looked slightly ill, putting the mic on mute as he conferred with his colleagues in Washington. After a moment, he came back on line, "General, the Chinese are on the move." He pulled up a chart, "As you know, they have had a demographic imbalance for some time due to the one child policy. Far more men than women. This was creating significant issues at home." He took a breath, "They've found a way to rebalance the population."
"How's that sir?" General Cornis asked.
"They're all in storage. All of them."
"That's tens of millions. How long?" General Cornis felt a trickle of sweat make its way down his temple.
"They've been missing for years by our count."
"But that would be...tens of millions of years stored."
"Yes General."
"What are they going to do with them all?"
"We have no idea." He replied, his face grim.
Platypus out.
Want more peril? r/PerilousPlatypus
Cool take. It's an imaginative idea, but it does require some suspension of disbelief, like how would the physical strength of soldiers be preserved in such prolonged sleep-states? You could turn it into a last-minute comedy with that, though, both armies prepare to unleash their hibernating soldiers only to realize... neither army's soldiers has the strength to support their own bodies. And not just that, but wars aren't really fought in just overwhelming numbers anymore -- which is the crux of what makes sleepless soldiers an asset -- and that would especially be true of a science fiction story set in the future.
Sorry, I hope it doesn't sound like I'm just trying to shit all over you story, I did like your story, and I appreciate the pace you set with the narrative. You kept it concise and interesting, no part of it felt like it needed expansion or like it was drawn out too far. It could be expanded upon, definitely, but for a micro-fiction story, the pace was perfect. I think that helps the inherent problems I commented about earlier, the story progresses at an appropriate pace that kept me from actively criticizing, "oh, that wouldn't be possible, and this would be more harmful than helpful, etc." and I was genuinely intrigued by the concept you created from the prompt. I was thinking something about a person who has woken for a years long coma, but I don't really know where I'd take it from there. At the end of a story, the inherent problems won't matter if the story is interesting enough for the reader to overlook those problems, and I think your story was. Good job!
Fox and the Hound is a sadder kids movie but this is up there. Right along with Up, Wall E, and the end scene of Toy Story 3.
The Iron Giant has a sad moment, for sure, but at least it has a happy ending. Fox and the Hound is like, at best, a not-totally UNhappy ending. The book is depression-incarnate. Seriously, if anyone is feeling TOO happy for whatever reason, go look up how the book version ends.
“God forbid if he takes me before you,” wow, don’t most parents hope for their children to outlive them?
i doubt that poll went through without vote manipulation... gamers are usually a pretty sorry bunch when it comes to interacting with women
edit: show me a gamer whose not a manchild and ill show you a lair, ive never met a functioning adult who plays videogames, plenty of kids tho
edit: proof of how cringey gamers are, found this on one of their subs
Never heard of you before, but that "proof" of yours is definitely proof you're just a troll account.
Edit: I didn't think this would even need explaining, but it's proof not because it isn't cringey -- it's extremely cringey -- but because one cringey gamer isn't anywhere close enough to a large enough sample to make a declarative statement that, "all gamers are cringey. You know, because of this one guy here that made this stupid picture."
Dude even says, "one of their subs." That's an acknowledgement that there are many different types of gamers. It'd be different if it was, "found this on ALL of their subs, as the top-rated post of all time in each subreddit." Then maybe a case could be made.
Bragging about how great they are at pleasing women sexually. Based on experience, the more they brag, the more likely they're still using the "trick" that made some naive prom queen squeal in the back seat of their parents' car back in high school. It took me a long time to realize it's the quiet but confident guys you have to watch out for...
“Trick” reminded me of the “Alphabet Trick”. Was that a prank created by girls to weed out guys that are bad in bed, because it is actually really terrible in practice.
Edit: wow, this blew up! Okay, here’s why I think that it is a terrible trick: because it is not consistent. I have not met a girl that prefers the pattern/rhythm to be constantly changing when being stimulated. That is why the alphabet trick sucks.
I think it seems to "work" because the person trying it has the mindset of trying to improve that skill. That extra effort gets positive feedback and they associate it with the trick.
That’s an interesting idea, but I think it can go the other way, too. “I’m good at eating pussy, I do the alphabet trick and it works. Boom,” and no incentive to try harder or try new things. But people are different, so for every person that doesn’t give a damn about trying harder, there’s someone that does, and then for every person that is either one or the other, there’s two more that just refuse to go down on women at all.
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The office people are the ones who have to deal with all of the bullshit the teachers don't want to. They aren't gonna waste their time pretending that one of the smart, quiet kids who they never have to see are suddenly evil.
I wish someone had told that to my step-mom. She got a job in the office at my high school — please let me reiterate: when I was a teenager, my STEP-mother got a job at my high school, in the office. — and she had so little chill that I would have teachers coming up and asking me what the deal was with my mother. Ughhhh.
My aunt worked at my high school. In the middle of class one day, the whole room started spinning, and I raised my hand and asked if I could go to the nurse. Teacher declined. So I sat there and waited for the lesson to end, raised my hand again and asked if I could go now. My cousin was in that class with me, so she walked me down to the office. I barely made it to the nurses office in time to throw up. I ended up going home and was called out sick the next day.
My aunt blabbed about it to EVERYONE. The teacher for that class stopped me in the middle of the hallway and he's laughing at me and goes, "So I hear you just barely made it to the office in time." and I was like "Yeah thanks."
Family working at the school sucks because they think they can just tell everyone everything.
Ugh, yes, that kind of thing happened with me as well. Teachers would comment on my life because they’d hear about damn near everything going on at home through her. My dad and I fought a lot at that time and I’d have teachers telling me that I need to do this and do that to apologize to my father, and certain teachers openly disliking me because they only hear my step-mom’s version of things, when she was usually what my dad and I would fight about.
They met when I was thirteen. Three months after they MET, she was moved into our house. Two months later, they got engaged and she quit her job. One month after that, she and my dad were married in Las Vegas, specifically to expedite the marriage process. Then after a year of unemployment, she started working at the high school. And at some point in between the marriage and her starting work at my and my sisters school, our grandmother, who had lived with us since my dads original divorce when I was two to help raise me and my sister, was put into an old folks home.
Of course, she didn’t talk much about any of that with the school staff when dishing about the drama going on at home. Usually, it was just about how I was spoiled and ungrateful, and what a bastard I was being to my hard-working father.
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Sometimes instead of “god damnit,” I sometimes say “god bless it.”
Amy Dunne from Gone Girl. I read it in a book club and everyone else hated her but I couldn’t get enough of her.
I haven’t seen the movie, and I’ve heard she has a much different portrayal, but I seriously fell in love a little bit with her by the end of the book.
oh yeah I absolutely agree. I want to rewatch and try and pinpoint where exactly he stops doing just for his family and starts doing it for himself
Hmm, maybe the Home Improvement store scene?
“Stay out of my territory.”
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I kind of hope he doesn't... I feel like the show ended on a good note and was pretty consistent. I'd hate for them to bring it back and the original teams magic isn't there and it flops.
I would actually like to see a cartoon show finally age it’s characters. I’ve been wanting to see that from any cartoon show since forever. Even if it’s a show that I never watched, I think I would go back and actually watch the original show just to see what they do after the characters are aged.
And honestly,I think this is a good climate for new King of the Hill. A more jaded Hank Hill, Peggy would probably still be optimistic and naive, but maybe more committed to her zany schemes, and then Bobby... he could certainly go in a lot of different directions. But now I should read the article, haha.
Dragon Ball.
Ah, indeed. Okay, so there are cartoons that age their characters, even Dragon Ball isn’t the only one.
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I didn't actually sent it, but my father in law at the time has seen a dick pic of mine on the regular, without me knowing.
During my relationship I studied abroad for six months. My ex and I saw another like once every month or six weeksish. After about a month of not seeing eachother, we started sending eachother dirty pictures, as you do. She loved pictures of my gentlemans parts. To be honest; I did shoot some nice pictures, quality stuff you know. Not the "oh let me whip out my shlong and get a quick pic." No. Quality stuff. Right lighting and angle, nice background, the works. I had nothing better to do anyway.
So I sent her one that I thing is my best piece so far. Judging by her reaction, she agrees. She installs it as my contact picture, so whenever I call her, my dick shows up. A little tacky maybe, but I never complained because 99/100 times I called, she would be turned on. Huge bonus.
Skip forward about a year or so. We are still together, having dinner at her parents house. She still lived at home during this time. She's saying how she wants a new phone, which one she would want, etc. Her dad calmly swallows his food, puts down his fork, looks me in the eye and asks "Do you think she will install a new contact picture for you as well?"
But how was he seeing her photo for your contact on her phone? Did he take her phone as a replacement for himself at some point?
Nah, she wasn't to careful with her phone and would often have it laying about in the house. And why wouldn't you? It's not like there is anything on there you wouldn't want people getting their eyes on, would you?
It actually took me a while to realize that while she had my dick as a contact picture, it happened a few times that I called her and HE picked up. Her phone would probably be laying around, I would call her and he would pick up. At the time I though nothing of it, but later I realzed.... He would be doing something around the house and hear a phone go off. He'd locate the phone and pick it up. He'd look at the screen and see a raging boner, including that one weird vein that everyone has, with the perfect lighting and background... look at it, answer the phone and go "hey, how are you? Let me go get her for you.. "
Oh man, that is awkward!
My boss, who is a really nice dude, has a bad habit of interrupting you when you're both geeking out about something. At first I let it slide because... well, he's my boss, and it usually wasn't important, but the more he did it, the more it started to annoy me. So I started just walking away whenever he would interrupt me. Like I would literally just end the conversation abruptly and peace out of there. And he interrupts me a lot less these days.
Wow, your boss? [insert the “bold move, Cotton” meme here]
They interrupt someone or refuse to acknowledge what someone says just to say what they want.
I think probably everyone has done this at least once to SOME degree. There are, of course, repeat offenders, and even chronic assholes that do this unapologetically.
Relatedly, I notice and respect when people become conscious of, “omg, I’ve been completely interrupting and dominating this conversation!” apologize, and then listen and let other people finally talk and direct the conversation.
I think it’s one of those things people don’t like because the internet told them they have to dislike it. Like Nickelback
I’m so glad to see someone else say that, I also firmly believe that many many people just “hate” the word because “everyone else does!”
LA fitness has done this to me, in addition to high pressure sales tactics from their personal trainers who don’t even lift. I also am fairly certain they sold my information, as the burner email I used started getting many fitness related ads out of character for my account.
I pay twice as much to go to a nicer chain gym (who shall remain nameless as to avoid being accused of being a shill) a bit farther away out of principle
Aaand the best part is that they can absolutely cancel memberships right there in the gym, any of them. It isn’t even a manager-only kind of thing.
If you make a big enough stink in their facility, bitching loudly and going on — channel that inner spoiled baby boomer and act entitled enough — and they will cancel your membership without all the bullshit! 😼😼
I love when movies do the opposite of this though. The whole "Person standing behind you when you close the medicine cabinet" or "person standing behind the fridge door when you close it" jumpscares have been used so much, that now instead movies are playing suspenseful music leading up to them, the person closes the medicine cabinet/fridge and bam! There's nobody there. We've gotten so conditioned to thinking that there's gonna be somebody standing there. Every time I'm watching a scary movie these days and there's a scene in a bathroom or a kitchen and someone opens a medicine cabinet or a fridge, I cant help but think, "Oh, there's gonna be someone standing there when they close that".
Hehe it would be funny for a movie to play the scene like the unsuspecting woman opens the refrigerator door and then in the background the villain just plain walks into view and steps behind the refrigerator door. Like totally clearly.
Do people even get the first one?
Look at the comments, a surprising number of people clearly know what it is.
I’m assuming you’re thinking everyone who commented knows what it is, but ‘looking at the comments’ tells me that only ~4 people mention Loss specifically or reference it in some way and there’s even one person who outright asks what the first one is.
No, I didn’t think everyone who commented knew what it was... I meant the people that specifically said so. Thats a strange assumption for you to have made.
I was even the person that answered the guy that was asking what it was!
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When a girl is hygienic and keeps herself clean
I do concede that in a further comment. :)
I don’t think it has to do with an aversion of the female body. This is highly anecdotal but I have some friends that refuse to go down on girls and they told me it has to do with, as pointed above, submission. Essentially they see giving oral sex as being submitted to the girl and that’s not something they’re comfortable with. 🤷♂️
I also doubt porn has such a huge impact on why men don’t want to give head. You see it in a LOT of videos so it’s not like a taboo thing.
Once again highly anecdotal but I gave oral sex to all my girlfriends yet 1 didn’t want to give me any so yeah, go figure.
aversion
Haha, I was speaking hyperbolically. And as far as the porn goes, I just started wondering about that based on what eksyneet was saying, and I was just "typing out loud", as it were. I do believe there is an effect, and I do stand by what I said about men who think they have to emulate what they see in porn, because if nothing else, I have definitely known those types of guys. But as for giving head, nah, I don't think porn has much of an influence in that area, buuut, still, maybe a little bit. You know? It made me wonder. :)
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You're consistently uncharitable and rude.
Interesting evaluation. Regardless, I asked out of curiosity and meant no offense. If you feel like post-poning your disengangement, I wouldn't mind hearing how you came to that conclusion, because I certainly don't intend to be either uncharitable or rude. I can't deny I've made occasional comments that are likely unkind in certain conversations, but I wouldn't think nearly enough to summarize my entire character as such.
Thank you, I appreciate that you gave it a second look. My gf and I are very open-minded people, and I also get how, "the nicest way possible" and "what are you talking about," yeah, they sound like antagonist phrases. I recognized that when I wrote my comment, but I just wasn't understanding what you were saying, so I just asked as straight and simple as possible. It sounds ruder than I intended.
And yeah, even in my gf's own experience, you're not wrong about generalizing Wiccans as such. Hope your day gets better, man.
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I would definitely agree that it is much too expansive, large, and has too many things to do for a first time gamer. Great game, but not a starter game.
Great game, but not a starter game.
Yup. But "oh no, Skyrim skyrim skyrim," god forbid anyone say anything slightly off-center about Skyrim.
I do like what u/Turinqui85 said about,
and as your curiosity grows, so would your skill.
and that would be an especially fun way to "learn" about video games. But I still think there are other games that accomplish the same thing without the barrier to entry that Skyrim is.
Earthbound
Underrated suggestion. Not underrated game, but as an answer to this question -- fucking yes. Earthbound would be a fantastic intro-game.
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Very interesting experience!
About which goddess, I have a story to answer that that you might find interesting...A few weeks prior to my story above, I was very stressed and depressed at work, and fell asleep in my chair. Almost instantly I started having one of those ultra lucid/realistic dreams, standing in a weird torch-lit room that kinda looked like a log cabin. In front of me was 5 women, I couldn’t really make out what they looked like, but they all excitedly looked at each other when they saw me, I got the vibe that they were trying to reach me and were surprised that they did...BOOM I wake up. I think “man I gotta get back there and see wtf that was”, so I doze off again, and sure as shit, there they were again. I heard a voice say “Mother Freya”, and this cascade of what I can only describe as ethereal raindrops started gently pelting my face, washing a very pleasant, loving, tingly feeling down my whole body from my face. The sensation roused me awake but I swear I continued to feel the pleasant tingles on my face after I woke up for a few seconds. Suddenly I was no longer tired and felt just...happier I guess, more at peace.
Anyway, the point of telling you that was when I was in the sleep paralysis episode I mention in my first comment, I was so moved by the Freya experience that I desperately wanted to touch her again. So, I embraced the woman in my sleep paralysis dream, hoping it was her, hoping to get that feeling again. But much like in your experience she was giving me this annoyed, indignant look like I wasn’t supposed to be there.
That's quite interesting, and a cool experience that you related to me. Thanks for you response! I was asking about the identity of the Goddess because I am currently trying to investigate into just who "my" Goddess is, the one that I felt in that Salvia experience. I've recently begun trying to connect with Her on a spiritual level, and discovering a side of myself that I never had or acknowledged before -- I identified as an atheist in high school and was quite content with that at the time.
That Salvia experience was actually more than seven years ago, but I feel like She has taken a vested interest in me at least since then. But in the pantheon of deity's, I don't know who She is. Even with the information I've discovered myself, I cannot identify Her. And that's okay, it'll happen when it happens, but it doesn't mean my curiosity is sated so easily.
That’s so awesome! I was actually going to ask if you knew who yours was. Incidentally I too have been atheist/materialist for the better part of the last 20 years. But over this past year a multitude of experiences like these and shit that’s just a bit too much to be coincidence have steered me towards Norse paganism. I was fortunate enough to have Thor and Freya reveal themselves to me, and I have responded to them with gratitude through gestures and offerings in my daily life.
Speaking of that, you could perhaps try leaving offerings for your goddess, or if you have a sense of what she’s all about, dedicate gestures to her, speaking aloud in your ritual. In my experience, offerings make a difference. I’m not a guru or expert on the celestial by any stretch of the imagination so don’t take my advice as gospel. The type of ritual I speak of is a style of the Asatru religion. If you make a real effort though, I think you’ll figure her out. Just listen to your heart and pay attention to what you feel in your bones, and don’t forget your ancestors!
I'm still learning how to communicate with Her, but like you, this past year has been a sort of "awakening" for myself. My girlfriend practices Wicca , and she and I have been together long enough that she knows about my Salvia experiences, and my brush with this Goddess (that first time I hallucinated on the Salvia extract and when I felt Her presence was the only time on Salvia that I felt Her. I didn't even see Her, I just felt Her, an enormous -- like macro-cosmically immense -- presence that was just over me and overwhelming me. As I said before, I thought I had fallen through a hole in the universe floor. I felt Her pick me up and reinsert me back into reality. Something that I don't tell to people irl is that, truthfully... I don't feel like I was put back into the specific reality I fell away from. :/ Anyway, every experience with Salvia afterward I was just by myself. She showed me how to get back the first time, and She's not a molly-coddling Goddess. If I fuck up and can't remember how to get back, that's not Her fault. Haha, that's how I see it/feel it.)
Anyway, so my Wiccan girlfriend has been helping me and encouraging me to start searching and opening up my spiritual side. She did a tarot reading for me and she felt gripped in Her power as my Goddess delivered a message to me. Remember what I said about Her not being a hand-holding type? My gf felt sudden intense inner-heat as well as a firm constriction around her torso that made it difficult for her to even breathe. That was the day that my gf said to me that I really need to start paying a-fucking-ttention, because I have clearly been disappointing Her, whoever She may be.
So I've been doing meditations, and although sometimes it takes a while, I do feel like She presents herself to me, or maybe it's more likely that it's the other way around, I do feel like I'm establishing a connection there. I also am trying to learn how to control my sleep paralysis, to try and see if there's something there. I'm really not exaggerating when I said how much I get sleep paralysis. It isn't always bad, although it certainly started off... just fucking horribly... but since moving to a small town that is by and large a spiritually-awakened city, my paralysis has mostly been either neutral or actually positive in some way. There's even been a couple episodes that felt to me like the presence of my Goddess was involved, somehow.
One thing I know for absolute certain I want to try is getting natural Salvia leaves and using those. I've used natural Salvia once, and after that it was pretty positively clear that the Salvia extract is NOT at ALL how it's meant to be used. Nevermind the reputation it has for bored suburban white kids to abuse is to "trip like, fucking balls, man," for a few minutes, but after experiencing natural Salvia, the extract is seriously borderline offensive to what Salvia actually is. ((So if it's ever something you want to do, I would seriously advise against EVER using the extract. It's just not at all right, and also not because of the sheer level of mind-fuckery it causes. It's just plain disrespectful to Salvia, and I get the sense from you that you give respect to powers that humanity either doesn't admit to or doesn't understand.))
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"...three, two, ONE! Ready or not, here I come!"
In less time than it took for the nine year girl to count down from ten, she was firmly slapping the back of Davis, her two years younger brother.
"Gotcha!" The girl declared loudly, and spun in celebratory circles while pumping the air with her tiny fists in a victory dance.
"No way! You cheated!" The boy immediately accused. The girl and her brother lived with their father in a less-than modest house, and while ten seconds would have been nine seconds more than she would have needed to find him indoors (with time to spare!), they were not playing inside their one bed/one bath house on this afternoon. They were, in fact, playing in the hundred plus acres of forest that served as their backyard.
Davis had discovered this particular hiding space last week while Samanja had been in school. He was crouched under a log and in a deep crevice in between the roots of the stump from where the tree had fallen. There was simply no way that she could have found him without peeking during the count down.
"You suck, Dorkis!" Samanja taunted, continuing to laugh and dance.
"I'm going to tell dad what you said!"
To any other children their age, such a threat would have almost undoubtedly been taken as nothing more than an unfunny joke, however, Samanja's eyes widened. She and her brother were forbidden from even such language as 'butt' and 'fart' -- in their family, it was 'rear-end' and 'poof'. Saying "suck" would be bad enough, but directing that at her younger brother would be a guaranteed belting.
"Fine, I take it back, Dweebis, I'm sorry. You don't suck," she said, rolling her eyes and muttering, "completely," under her breath as she leered sideways at the indignant seven year old glaring sternly up at her, obviously trying his best to mimic their father's perpetual scowl. The effect was largely comical and ineffectual on the pixie-round face. "It's your turn, but first you have to take the punishment!" and before the boy could even groan he was being punched hard on the arm by his older, stronger sister.
He began to cry out in pain and anger, but she was already sprinting further into the forest while shouting over one shoulder, "If you can't find me next, I'm going to tell dad that you said the J-word!"
Now it was Davis' turn to widen his eyes in horror. "Sam! Sam, wait! Okay, I'll count, but you can't start running until I start counting, that's the rules!" Davis shouted after her shadow as it disappeared around a clump of immense trees. "Sam? Sam! Samanja, wait!"
The hours ticked by as slowly as the beads of sweat formed and trickled down Davis' face while he crouched as perfectly still as he humanly could sixteen years later, and in the very same forest. Now, however, the forest felt more like a thick jungle. Fairy nests were always unbearably humid and muggy, the air thick with blood and the essence of magic, which was lethal to humans. The mere presence of it caused supreme discomfort, and prolonged exposure would eventually result in rashes, hives, sores, and various other unique anomalies in different people. Jones in Squad B developed canker sores and cavities over night after a seven hour nest raid, which so far as anyone knew, was a first. Magerta lost all her hair after being pinned down in a nest for two nights before she was rescued. It all just fell out, her hair dissolving like wet tissue paper right off her head. Her C.O. made the mistake of asking if the carpets matched the drapes. Magerta was less than a day into her two week long mandatory psychiatric and physical evaluation -- the most minimal standard procedure after prolonged fairy contact -- now she's almost one month into her six month long stint in military prison while the C.O. is still in ICU.
Davis can feel rivets being dug into his skin where each bead of sweat trickles. He doesn't know exactly what's happening to him, but he knows it's more than just rashes. The more damp his skin becomes, the more it feels like it's drying up like cinders and flaking away. He feels like a jack-o-lantern, his sweat carving up his face and body. He can feel it happening to his entire body; his arms and legs, deep gouges running all down his back. Davis cannot even tell how much the wetness is from sweat or blood on his back. With his hands firmly grasping his rifle, as they had been for close to a full eighteen hours now, he can feel how much different the metal and rubber grip feels to his alien hands. The trigger felt like it was more inside his fingertip than it was against it anymore, as did the rest of the rifle in general. In some places, he was disgusted to imagine that he could feel the rifle scraping against skin no longer, and in actual contact with BONE.
Oh gods, Davis suddenly realized. What am I standing on anymore? What is happened to my feet? His poor booted feet, under the wool socks, the THICK wool socks he had worn because outside the nest it was still harsh cold winter. Davis had stopped being able to feel the inside of his boots when he wiggled his toes before the sun was even fully up in the sky. It was sunset now. Is there anything down there or is it all just a mush pile of wet skin cells, dissolved blood and bone? And the thought brings tears welling up in his eyes. He can't help it. The thought scares him, and the fear of what could happen to his eyelids if they eventually get too wet brings an insane giggle clawing its way up his throat.
He has never been so afraid in his life. Not just of being in the middle of a migratory nest that had almost without any warning at all descended upon him, and of what they would do to him if he so much as twitched in his ghillie suit, but of what he would become even if he escaped totally unharmed by the terrible fairies. And judging by this inestimable waiting period for the nest to move on, he had still miles of time to go before he could rest, and be free.
The itching, the horrible burning, maddening itching consumed his body like fire as Davis struggles to contain his manic laughter.
"...three, two, one! Ready or not, here I come!"
Samanja was more than ready for her little brother. She sat nearly a full twenty feet up a tall tree, resting comfortably on a massive branch and idly dangling one skinny leg down over the empty space between her and the spongy fresh forest floor. By this time, nearly ten minutes after his count down had ended, Davis was scarcely even looking for her anymore. He was simply routinely following the same circuit around and around again, turning over the same leaves each time and peering under the same logs. But every now and then, Samanja had learned, Davis would find an incredible hiding place while searching for her. She had only to watch from above and let her little brother show her the best ones.
The kids at school only ever played one game, albeit with two variations. It was Hide-and-Seek, every day, day-in, day-out. But sometimes there would be team games of Hide-and-Seek, called "Humans and Fairies".
Samanja wanted to see a fairy. They had all seen diagrams of fairies by now, and she was already ten! Almost old enough to be taught how to fire a gun, and soon she'd be hunting the demons just like her mother! She didn't care that everybody always said women made the worst hunters, and she refused to believe her mother had died long ago. Vanished into a migratory nest that had found her and stayed for two weeks before moving on. No trace was ever found, so how could anyone talk so surely that she had doubtlessly met her cruel end at the tiny hands of the eight inch tall freaks of nature?
Holding up her thumb and index finger, she beheld her puny brother searching pathetically on the ground below between her own small digits. She would make those bastards pay, she'd made that vow long ago already. At that height and distance, Doofis looked about the size of a fairy -- at least, according to the science diagrams they were shown in school.
She brought her finger and thumb together cruelly fast, imagining the resistance of the body, the snapping of its little frail bones and its anguished death-cry. Maybe it would even try some last ditch spell to throw at her. Ha, fat chance. She nearly laughed out loud, revealing her position to her clueless brother below.
Soon, she thought grimly to herself. Soon, they would pay.
[[cont'd below]]
Samanja had almost lost all determination the first time seeing a fairy face-to-face. Its face was twisted into such a horrifying visage of hatred and pure inhuman wrath. The jagged fangs of the fairy didn't even seem to grow out of the gums so much as they had pierced the gums, stabbing and forcing their crooked way through the sneering mouths of the creatures. Its lips and mouth were torn and ragged, as if the fairy wasn't even accustomed to avoiding gnashing itself when it fed, leading to a perpetually blood-stained chin and neck. The breasts hung limp from its body, the vile poison produced by these (mammals? She wondered) apparently wasn't even safe for their own natural organs that produced the stuff. In that first frozen minute of meeting a fairy this up close and personal -- the moment truly was frozen, the wretched creature had frozen time itself in its own shock -- Samanja could see green-yellow veins twisting under the sallow pale skin. In some places, it looked as though the veins had ruptured internally, and the body was rotting from the inside-out, leaving grey and black patched of rough-looking skin on the surface.
She wanted to look away. She wanted to see anything else, if she could only turn her head, if she could even just close her eyes to this abomination mere inches away from her face, just please let her look away, please God, please ANYONE.
The fairy reached out curved talons, like a birds foot for a hand, towards her, towards her face and Samanja was forced to watch. One of the fingers on the hand was missing, leaving only a stinking infected, pus-oozing wound in the scaly claw and, oh, God, please no, please no, it's going to take my eye, is it really going to take my eye, my FUCKING EYE, THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING.
The pain was excruciating, almost as equal to the nausea Samanja felt as she realized that part of that horrible, disgusting, vile THING had actually been inside her own head, that infected stump at the end of the things hand inside her eye socket. Her now empty, bleeding eye socket, and time yet remained frozen. With her one remaining eye, she saw the fairy bring its legs up until it was sitting cross-legged in mid-air. The fairy cradled her round, pale blue eye in its lap, like some kind of demented vision of a mother and baby as created by a psychotically mad serial killers nightmare.
Samanja was forced to watch the fairy poke and prod her eye, and she could feel the pokes and prods, she swore she could, she felt each scrape by its claw, each scratch, each stab. The bile and vomit was there in her body, she knew, but frozen in time as she was, as was her sickness. A dam was building, everywhere. In her stomach, in her mouth, and in her mind. Her sanity was struggling to break loose, thrashing itself against the thick stones of determination she had lain for herself all those years ago, held only in place now by this moment frozen in time, held only by the will of this fucking monster's magic.
Either by mercy or her own will, both unlikely, a tear formed impossibly in the severed eye. She knew it was, literally, im-fucking-possible. Tear ducts aren't even in the eyeballs themselves, the rational thought in her head seemed insane in that moment, but she knew that eye could not be crying, and yet, until the fairy released her, she could only watch as the insane villian mocked her by creating false tears in her eyes, tears that she desperately wanted to shed herself, but tears that were not her own, tears that provided her only inches more of discomfiture.
Please, make this stop, she plead silently to anything that could hear her thoughts.
Another eight years later and her brother currently experiences his own breaking point, in that very same forest, deep within the ghillie suit that was meant to provide him camouflage and protection, but which was instead becoming his instrument of doom, creating his own infernal sweat-suit that he knows without any doubt is slowly dissolving him. Night had come, and instead of becoming cooler, the temperature only rose and continues to rise.
His forearm, once thick and strong with thick muscles carved from years of training and fighting, had been reduced to a soupy mess of discordant tendons, and drips heavy pink and red drops of thick liquid. Around nightfall, his eye lids had confirmed his worst imagined fears: he is unable to blink, as he no longer has the skin to blink with over his eyes. Davis does not know, but he is bound in exactly the same magic that had tormented his sister to madness, but he had realized during sunset that he was unable to move. The fear of losing his eyelids had broken his will, and he had finally made the decision to give up and run screaming frantically into the cool night air, so close that he still imagines he can feel tendrils of the cold winter air fluttering just past his nose, but when he had gone to pick up his leg, he found it would not obey.
A new pinnacle of fear he had discovered then, as he realized he had become prisoner of his own body, a cage that continues to slowly be reduced to ruinous nothing.
The arm supporting the end of his rifle bends unnaturally downwards, a curving droop from past the elbow to his wrist, which finally snaps and Davis watches his hand and gun fall with a wet, squelching sound into the steaming mush below. This finally brings a flurry of fairy activity to him. He had thought they had known his presence already, as he had clearly been caught in their magic, but now he knows he must have actually been caught in something more like a security perimeter. A time-binding field of magic that travels with the nest instead of being cast purposefully and directly.
A dozen or so fairies flit all about his cage as it disintegrates around him -- Davis adamantly refuses to think of himself as this melting abomination that his body is becoming, the thought too strong a horror for even passing contemplation -- as the fairies chatter and hiss and giggle at the pitiful human's plight.
Davis prays for death, and nothing else. He wonders in that final hour what these things were. Where had they possibly come from? Why were they here now? Why did they seem to hate humanity with such a singularly-driven purpose? The questions that humanity has been asking itself the past half century, and in his quiet, violent solitude he receives the same answers given to all his predecessors since the fairy pandemic first began.
The war had begun thirty years before his birth. There was the initial revelation and wonder, and he had heard tale that in those days they had been innocent-looking harmless things, even pitiable. Humanity strove to study and nurture these strange, but cute, creatures that were unanimously named "fairies" at once upon their discovery. However, their population suddenly ballooned, and overnight the first relentless assault on humanity had begun. The longer the war went on, the more frightening their appearance became, the more savage they became, and the more deadly their magic became.
Most of Davis' knowledge of those early days came from rumor or postulation, but it was true that the fairy magic was at first only strong enough to conduct little more than parlor tricks. Levitation of a single feather, or causing a match-head to ignite at a limited distance.
As Davis wept for humankind, he realizes that he weeps also for these beings as well. Even as their torment causes more and more of his once strong, healthy body to crumble and fall away, even though each tear grinds through yet more vital muscles in his face. Even when the right side of his jaw suddenly collapses inward and his tongue becomes unbound from his throat and flops loose in the gaping maw in his face, even as the fairies shriek with delight at the spectacle. No. Not "in spite of". BECAUSE of.
These poor creatures were pure. They were innocent. How else could their wickedness been borne except from us? They could only have learned this abhorrence from their benefactors. Could their crime only be their pursuit to be closer to us by becoming, as they perceived it in their naive innocence, becoming like us?
Davis' eyes slide forward in their wide sockets. Pain has disappeared, and he feels only the strange sensation of having turned his vision without moving his head or commanding his eyes to turn. His vision pans downward, and he sees his open palm, grotesque and only half-solid, facing upward to the sky. A revolting plea for peace. In his palm stands one of the creatures. It studies Davis' hand, as though with intense scrutiny. When it turns its loathsome face up to watch Davis' face finally melt away from the rest of his body, Davis might have tried laughing, if it had been possible. For his first thought about the monstrously whimsical creature -- and coincidentally his final thought in life -- was,
That one is winking at me.
Cool. Thanks.
I was looking through these again -- just going through old stuff as people are wont to do from time to time -- and I realized something that really should have been obvious...
Jack is a human friend at all, is he? -,- Haha...
The story can still be read and interpreted the way I initially read it, and it still works, but with that sudden insight, it's like all the pieces fall perfectly into place.
You need to understand that in cults and religion, men are always first, women are dispised. Why? Because women attract men, give them weaknesses, and men, being men, like women and their body. Also you need to understand that is ideology is retrograde, outside of those cult and churchs society is NOT like that. Because that is not okay. You, as a woman, have the same right as every man. The right to be heard, the right to contest, the right to make a choice, and especially the right to say no.
Don't mistake me as a avant-garde new-age woman for saying this. I'm a young man, middle 20's, with college degree, born in a modderate-to-high conservative region. My parents are kinda narrow-minded (except none of us belong to cult, there's nothing like that in our region). What I mean is, I come from a region with conservative minds, parents whom are kinda narrow-minded, homophobic, etcphobic, and I've been able to get away from that 50's narrow-minded bullshit. Why? Because I question. And if you don't question things you'll become enslaved in a conservative self-centered bullshit, that sooner or later, will absorb you deeply, and you can't get out of, and, the worst part is, you won't be able to question things.
I'm sure she does understand that by now. Intentional or not, your comment comes off as really condescending.
edit: err, or maybe I'm the fool and you're just playing up to your username? If that's the case then, um, I'm just crazy, haha... /beetlejuicing
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