Image Prompt
Zeke leaned back against a tree, trying to catch his breath through hushed gasps. Something warm spread at his side. With a shaky hand, he found a would just above his hip—it bled more than he’d like but didn’t hurt. Not too deep, then.
The pounding in his ears drowned out the sounds of the forest around him. So he held his breath, hoping it might steady his heart long enough to regain his focus. The pounding softened. What replaced it, though, was the sound of clanking metal and uneven steps along the wooded floor.
He shifted his gaze to the right, searching for Elias. Always stay close, he heard in the back of his mind. Separation is certain death in the Hollow.
“Fucking hell,” he mumbled, unable to locate his partner among the sea of brown and green. He pulled his hand away from his hip, wiping the blood against his armor. Red smeared across silver, his glove soaked through. With a dissatisfied grunt, he raised the glove to his lips. A metallic taste kissed his lips as he bit down on the fabric and pulled his hand free.
Behind him, the clanking drew nearer. A soft, wheezing growl sounded in sync with arhythmic steps. He took several quick, shallow breaths and gripped his sword with both hands. Then he let out a long, violent scream and leaped from behind his hiding spot.
The creature’s skeletal face locked onto Zeke. Its jaw fell open so wide he thought it might detach—then it let out a piercing shriek and lunged. Sharpened bones poked through its fingertips, ready to tear into whatever flesh it could get ahold of.
Zeke swung his sword with everything he had. It collided with the undead’s arm just below the shoulder. Bone cracked. Armer screamed as his sword scraped against it. And then an arm fell to the ground with a soft thud.
The creature reared back, then lunged forward with its remaining arm. Zeke swung his sword upward just in time to keep the claws from sinking into his cheek but lost his grip in the process. The sword fell to the ground as the undead regained its balance for another attack.
Zeke threw his right foot forward, kicking the creature square in the chest. It stumbled backward, surprisingly staying on its feet. The move bought him enough time to retrieve his sword. As the undead lunged yet again, he lifted his blade and sent it straight through its neck.
It snapped its teeth and growled, its one arm reaching out for Zeke’s flesh. He twisted the blade, grunting with the effort, and moved it until the creature’s head separated from its body. Only then did it finally fall do the dirt.
Before Zeke could bask in his victory, he saw another emerge from deeper within the forest. He took a step forward, lifted his sword, and crumbled at a sudden sharp pain in his leg.
He looked down and saw the creature’s claw dug into his ankle. The second undead stumbled through the forest, biting at the air in anticipation of its wounded prize. Zeke pulled a dagger from his hip and began to pry the undead claw from his flesh, blood pouring from each wound into the dirt below.
Once free, he tried to stand but fell at the slightest attempt of putting weight on his left side. His ankle was ruined.
“Gods be damned,” he muttered, rising to one knee. He held his sword at his side, ready to strike the second beast as soon as it closed the distance between them.
“You may take me,” he said, “but I’m taking you with me.”
It nearly tripped on a log but managed to stay on its decaying feet as it ran toward him. Branches crunched beneath it. A wheeze that sounded suspiciously like a laugh escaped its chest.
And then, when it was nearly upon him, a flash of silver appeared from its left and lopped its head off in one fluid motion. Its body fell harmlessly to the ground; its head rolled to Zeke’s side, the jaw snapping one last time as it stared up at him with fiery eyes.
Elias turned and smiled, sliding his sword back into its sheath.
“I had him,” Zeke said, letting himself fall to a sitting position.
Elias laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I bet you did.” He stepped closer, eyeing the blood covering Zeke’s armor in multiple spots.
“Gods,” he said, “they really did a number on you.”
“Nothing a few pints won’t fix,” Zeke said. He cut a piece of cloth from his shirt and wrapped it tight around his ankle, wincing at the pain. His adrenaline was fading; the wound on his side began to remind him it was there.
Elias chuckled. “Not sure Luke is going to let you drink with that many holes in you, but I’d love to see you try ‘n convince him anyway.” He crouched down, pulling Zeke’s arm across his shoulders.
“Least we cleared a couple of these bastards,” Zeke said. “Hopefully they stay gone a little longer this time.”
“Aye,” Elias agreed, lifting Zeke to his feet. “And this time the whole town’s gonna suddenly appreciate the work we do and double our wages.”
“Hey, if the dead can rise, anything is possible.”
Elias shifted his weight, finding a decent enough balance to sync up with Zeke’s hops. “You know, if you wanted me to carry you back you could’ve just asked. Didn’t need to go gettin’ your foot half-severed.”
“Oh, quite the jokester today, aren’t you? I don’t recall giving you such a hard time when that lake ghoul put an extra bend in your knees.”
“Hey, that was different,” Elias said with a shudder.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it was.”
They limped on through the forest, trading insults and jokes, leaving a trail of blood in the dirt behind them.

No people on it, no items, papers and luggage all over the floor

Memory transcription subject: Shivi, Yotul Soldier
Date [standardized humane time]: November 1, 2136
I felt the lurch of the shuttle docking into a rectangular airlock. I wondered how tall these Terrans would be in person. I hope they are not too much taller than me, I thought.
Clang
I felt the metal vibrate under my feet as the shuttle connected to the airlock. I heard a nervous cough to my right. The fellow volunteer beside me was meticulously twittling the fur under his chin. At that moment, I noticed I was rocking on my feet. I guess we are all a little anxious.
Hiss
I heard the air vent in the airlock. I puffed out my chest and straightened the fur on my chest. I hope the predators can not sense my building anxiety. I want them to respect my race unlike the Federation ever did. I need to prove to myself that we are a venerable and intuitive race.
The door in front of me began to lower inside of the airlock almost like a ramp but inside of a tunnel. Bright luminescent light began to flood inside of the shuttle. First from the ceiling, and it began shining towards me as the door continued to lower further. I felt a pit in my stomach build, and it reminded me of my first test in public school taught by my Gojid teacher. I began to see the shape of a head with a reflective visor on.
The Human was standing there with its arms behind its back. I was curious if it was hiding a weapon. It would be a perfect time to corral us all.
“Yotul volunteers, you have successfully reached the United Nation’s Virtual Combat Training Center.’’
A Venlil walked inside of the room following the Humans introductory welcome.
“Hello my name is Imai, If you could all follow me for inproccessing. It should not take long. Just make sure to grab your bags because this ship is departing shortly.”
I bent down to grab my bulky bag from under my seat while always keeping an eye on the Human. They are definitely larger and bulkier than I expected. I slowly walked off the ramp, and my bag kept swinging into my legs with every step. I really wished I had spent the extra currency for a wheeled bag.
I followed Imai and the Human through the winding corridors. Everyone was quiet. Only the tapping of boots and claw rakes were heard. We passed through a large set of double doors.
There were five white tables with each one having a number from one to five. At each table were two Terrans sitting down on chairs. Imai pointed to me and looked at the first table.
“Go ahead and start there. Start at the table labeled one and end at five.’’
“What do I do with my bag?”
“Take it with you, there will be a cart at the second table for you to use.”
I half carried and dragged the awkward bag to the first table. I approached the table slightly out of breath and arms tingling. The Human on the left gave me a piece of paper with a pen.
“Please fill out box one through nine and sign in box 23. If you have any questions let me know.”
This just seemed like the generic administrative paperwork that I am familiar with back home. I am surprised Terrans can be that beauracratic.
BOX 1. NAME, BOX 2 RANK, BOX 3 NEXT OF KIN
I paused on box three. I had not thought about the ‘what ifs’ yet. I am after all, volunteering to fight with Humans. I am glad to know they will let my family know about me if the unfortunate does prove true.
I finish through the paperwork and turn it back in to the Human behind the table. After writing on paper for way too long, I am glad there is a cart at the next station. I began trudging over to the next station.
“Welcome volunteer, this is the most important table here. We are going to size you for Human uniforms and equipment.”
‘’Why? I would much prefer nothing, other than a common belt for ammunition.’’
“Oh no that won’t do, your military record and aptitude tests show that you would be best suited inside of a tank. Tanks require specific uniforms and equipment to be utilized by its crew.’’
‘’What is a tank and why was I selected for it?’
‘’They are large armored vehicles, and at least for Humans, they are not too spacious. Also, you were selected because of your quick reaction time, strength, and mechanical background. All three of these traits and qualifications are crucial to this assignment.”
“Is it possible to switch to another job? I really do not like the idea of being inside of a box with...”
“Oh I see, Humans still startle you. We will be able to help break your fears here. At the Virtual Combat Training Center, everything is digital. So, you will be able to overcome your fears prior to meeting your crew.’’
I would hate to disagree. After all, the Federation’s lies and hate has affected me as well as the Humans. I need to be the bigger Yotul, however, this will take time.
“Ok, It doesn’t sound that terrible, but do I have to wear the unform?”
"While inside of the vehicle."
The Human measured my height, waist, chest, and head. It began filling up a cart behind it with various equipment and cloth. Most of the items were green and looked heavy. All of the items smell of that unnatural factory odor that I have become all too familiar with over the recent years. It is a strong and pungent chemical like scent.
Most of this stuff looks useless and bulky.
The Human pushed the cart from out behind the table towards me. I picked up my bag and heaved it into the already overcrowded cart. I sighed and proceeded to the next station pushing this large cart.
What have I gotten myself into?
After getting my introductory brief at the last station, I was finally in my personal room. I piled the bulky equipment inside of my closet. It is a giant mound of green materials. I slumped onto my bed exhausted. I stared at the white ceiling wondering what kind of training I will do tomorrow.
I rolled to the edge of the bed and with one paw I bent down to grab the large pamphlet from the floor I received at station five.
The cover showed a picture of what I presume to be a tank driving through a heavily wooded forest slinging dirt from underneath its wake. Thick clouds of debris forming behind its metal frame. It was a large green machine with tractor treads instead of wheels. It reminds me of the old farming equipment I used daily. Except this vehicle looks a lot larger than the family tractor. It had one large barrel jutting out from the center of a pan handle turret. It seems as if these Humans made a mobile star ship canon for ground warfare. I have never heard of the Federation doing anything comparable to that concept. I could imagine myself inside of this great beast fighting off the Federation with my Terran counterparts.
I opened the pamphlet feeling inspired after the cover. The first page was titled M3A2 Tank. I read through the Human history of tank warfare. My correlation to farming seemed to be how Humans came up with the idea. In one of the Human wars, they began putting armor and weapons onto farming equipment. That is a crazy idea, but it seemed to have worked and led to this tank’s development. The next section briefly described the capabilities of this vehicle. The main canon was able to shoot and damage Space shuttles. That is an insane amount of power for a ground vehicle to possess. Why would a ground vehicle ever need that much firepower? Also, the tank had multiple kinetic machine guns that could be operated from the safety of the inside of the vehicle using computers. The M3A2 is truly outfitted similar to a small spacecraft. I closed the pamphlet because I am beginning to get tired after a long and eventful day.
The Humans mentioned that they would give us ten hours to rest, eat, and get adjusted to the space station. I will need to change my holopad to human metrics so that I am never late. My eyelids felt heavy, and I drifted off to sleep thinking about the bulky and itchy green uniform I will have to wear tomorrow at training.

Me and my gf are from West PA and starting our road trip in Ohio, our Day 1 plans are to spend some time in Cleveland, maybe go to Cedar Point and then camp near Sandusky. We’re both big music nerds so we’re most likely going to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but what else should we do while we’re in the area?
We’re mainly looking for recommendations for lunch that aren’t too expensive, and attractions that are either free or fairly cheap.

So our LO decided to roll over yesterday causing us to stop swaddling. We’ve been rocking her to sleep and laying in bassinet. Now that her arms are out, this is not working. Looking for ways to help her learn to fall asleep in her own. Open to all suggestions, debating a program (takingcara…), but really don’t want to cough up money.

Memories of last night made me blush, the tension had been released. Demy leaning on his elbow as I tugged on my boots, his sly grin showing his pride from our fiery night of passion. Adjusting the ruffles on my blouse, his strong arms yanked me back onto the bed. The tension had faded between us, our satisfaction matching eotherach .
“Let’s play today.” He pleaded with big puppy dog eyes, a light smile dawning on my lips. “I had so much fun last night.” A golden envelope slid under the door, Demy’s fingers snapping. The envelope landed in his palm, a long exhale escaped his lips. The sounds of New Orleans came to life, jazz music filled the air. My weekend with my uncle had been lovely, but the noise and chaos of New Orleans felt like home or did Demy feel like home? Sinking deeper into my train of thought, a hungry kiss brought me back. Time stopped, my heart skipping a beat. Climbing on top of my lap, his hand plopping his hat on top of my head. What brought this on?
“We have a local job today.” He announced with unfiltered joy, lifting my chin up with his finger. “How about a date after?” A black ball of light blinded us, hairy legs grabbing me. Crying out for help, the monster whisked me away to another dimension. Throwing me on a giant web, chills shot up my spine. My face paled, horror widening my eyes. Struggling against sticky white silk, the silk vibrated. A shrill scream burst from my trembling lips the moment tiny spiders crawled over me, a man with six hairy legs trailing behind his tall slender body sauntered across the ceiling. His large abdomen bounced up and down, clammy sweat drenching my skin. A vibrant green suit hugged his seven foot seven frame, inky black eyes glistened underneath a fluff of neon green hair. His violet lips curled into a wicked grin, a long piece of silk glistened in the flickering light. Lowering his body, his face was centimeters from mine. Long fangs hung over his lips, a bright green venom dripped down the fangs. Clicking them together, his tongue licked his lips as they retracted into a row of clean teeth. Cupping my chin, his cold hand moved my face.
“How ugly!” He scoffed haughtily, licking my cheek. “You will make a most delectable meal.” Focusing on his ash gray skin, a stinger extended from his wrists. The venom dripped down the tip, the foul liquid burning my cheek. Healing up as fast as it burned me, frustration raged in his eyes. A defiant grin danced across my determined face, my tongue spitting out the spiders attempting to get into my mouth. Cringing at the sensation of tiny legs tickling my tongue, he snapped my head to face him.
“Poison doesn’t affect me.” I bragged jovially, my confidence coming back. “Nice try. I guess you will just have to eat me.” Low hisses slithered out of his mouth, his legs spinning a web around my squirming body. My eyebrow twitched irritably, my fingers snapping quietly. My staff floated into my palm, my enemy not noticing. Shoving it up my sleeve, a quiet groan escaped my lips at the fact my shirt was going to be destroyed. Allowing him to wrap me in a cocoon, the goal was to get him to relax his damn security. The sticky silk clung to my skin, his pets crawling up my leg. Couldn’t he just leave already! Gross, this fucking sucked. Shaking off my nerves, scarlet flames torched his webs, a rush of heat blowing his webs around. Glancing around, several cocoons surrounded me. Panic gripped my mind, the flames second from reaching them. Switching elements, golden ice crept up the web. Black smoke curled out of the small hole above me, a familiar energy perking up my spirits. Demy shot the web, his bullet smashing our enemy’s complicated design. Crashing to the cold neon green floor, dummies rained down around us. The wood smashed to bits, screams echoing down the hall. An icy breeze nipped my shoulder, my eyes falling on my tattered shirt. Black lace peeked out, Demy shooting a quick glance. Rolling my eyes, my shaft shifted to dual scythes. A drop of his venom hovered over his head, my body smashing into his. My skin hissed for a moment, my clothes melting away. Stifling a scream of venomous rage, Demy placed his coat over my shoulders. Embarrassment colored my cheeks, a nervous smile twitched on my lips.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He teased playfully, helping me up. “We need to cut out his fangs or remove them somehow.” An idea rang out in my head, my hands cupping his. The screams shattered the touching moment, a rock flipping in my stomach. Dread poisoned my mind, his lips kissed me hungrily. Guiding his fangs to my neck, his fangs sank into my skin. Enough blood would make him immune to the venom, my free hand fending off his legs with my scythe. Sparks drifted aimlessly, his exoskeleton proving to be tougher than I thought. Leaning his head back, he stole his hat back. Reaching into his hat, the energy shifted. My blood prevented him from going fully insane, a sly grin curling on his lips. Black energy swirled around him, his ravens cawing behind him.
“Poison, you are going to die today. Nobody kidnaps my swallow.” He threatened darkly, spinning his scythe over her head. “Are you ready to play?” Tossing me his hat, he mouthed the order to rescue the people. Placing it on my head, it was time to listen to his orders. Sprinting down the tunnel, my scythes sliced through the webs with ease. People dropped to the cold rock, families embracing each other. A low humming noise echoed in my ears, a black gem floated in a ball of pale green energy. Demy ran down the tunnels, his scythe hanging limply by his side. Sweat drenched his skin, inky streaks stained his cheeks. Poison crawled along the ceiling, an electrical shock at one touch knocked me back.
“He keeps regenerating.” He huffed, leaning on his knees. “We need a new plan.” Catching his breath, the corner of his lip curled into a crooked smirk. Swinging the tip of his scythe into the ball, he knocked me to the icy rock. Energy built up, a wave knocked Poison back into the tunnel. Frightened eyes quivered in the shadows, panic gripping my mind. The black gem whizzed over my head, Demy catching it. Tossing it back to me, flames roared to life on my palm. The glistening surface cracked, shrill shrieks threatened to burst my eardrums. Poison charged at us, cracks lining his smooth skin. A devilish grin lit up my face, the gem shattering into pieces with a single squeeze of my palm. The dimension quaked violently, a sharp bang sent blood and guts raining over us. Groaning bitterly, neither of us were pleased to be wearing guts. The dimensions faded to the cemetery, the families all resting in confusion. Tossing him his head back, Demy spun it in his palm. Demy tossed his hat up in the air, his scythe and pets all flying back in. Dumping out a steaming pile of guts, an agitated snarl twitched on his lips. Snapping his fingers, the poor families disappeared. Confusion dawned on my face, so many questions rested on the tip of my tongue.
“Where did they all go?” I stammered nervously, sweeping a couple of organs off of my shoulder. “Are they going to be safe?” Crouching down to my level, he attempted to wipe the blood off of my cheek. Kissing my forehead, his strong arms pulled me in for a desperate embrace.
“They were sent back to their beds. What they experienced will simply seem like a nightmare.” He explained calmly, his trembling body showing how scared he was for me. “I thought I lost you. Thank goodness you are okay.” A sharp clear of a throat captured our attention, Riot sauntering up to us. A simple wave of his hand knocked Demy into the wall of the nearby mausoleum. His other hand reached for me, my hand slapping it away. Demy lay limply at the base of the wall, the wet grass tickling his face.
“What are the odds that your great grandmother was my worst enemy?” He mused playfully, the ground cracking underneath his iridescent snake boots. “Apparently, I messed with the wrong broad “ Jumping to my feet, my staff shrank back to its original form. My power flickered out, wicked laughter rumbled in his throat. His fist swung towards my face, my palm catching the punch. Silent tears stained my cheeks, my hand shattering. Kicking his chest, a tree crashed down upon his impact. His strength tripled mine, the chances of survival dwindling. His body smashed into mine, most of my bones creaking with protest. Kicking him off of me, he flew up into the sky. The bones in my hand clicked back into place, my fist slamming into his jaw. Sending him back into the air, the heel of his boot shattered my jaw. Curling my fingers around his ankle, the ground splitting the moment I threw him down. Clicking my jaw back into place, Demy stirred awake. A swift yank ripped down to his level, the back of his arm clutching the small of my waist. Fright widened my eyes, my porcelain skin beginning to decay. Immense pain jolted my body, ungodly screams escaping my lips.
“I see my daughter’s strength is impeccable but you can still decay away like the rest of us.” He taunted cruelly, my tears soaking his light green velvet suit. “Prepare for your fin-” A bullet whizzed by our heads, a fuming Demy peeled me off of him. Kicking him in the face repeatedly, he held me close to his hips. Bending over, he picked him up by his collar.
“What’s your fucking problem!” He roared thunderously, my father poking his finger together. “What kind of a father beats his daughter! She came back into your life and you want to kill her. Are you sure you didn’t just want to kill her mother? Now that I can understand.” An apologetic smile dimmed his features, glowing symbols lined every inch of his skin.
“I am under a curse for a few murders I committed in the real world in the middle ages. Unfortunately, my master refuses to let me go. Yes, I am the king of the demons or his demons but seriously I am over this.” He spewed faster than I could register all of his words, my mind racing through the myriad of options. “I need the blood of my first born to alleviate the rest of my damn curse. I used to have more symbols on my skin. I will admit to letting that banshee possess your mother. Let’s just say she was a waste of space.” Squirming out of Demy’s arms, I offered my arm to him.
“Shut up and bite it.” I urged kindly, Demy taking a step back. “Then I want you to take on my curse so you can’t kill me. All I have to do is drink yours and the curse I bestow upon you what can’t be undone. Are you willing to take that on? Are you willing to atone upon your sins and kill your boss, the true king of demons?” Defiance burned in his eyes, my other hand cupping his arm.
“I, Scarlet Everton the Sparrow, curse you to a life of servitude.” I chanted confidently, hovering my fangs over his arm. “Now take a bite if you agree to take it on and live a life of freedom! Freedom will be yours if you kill him for me. The terms aren’t that difficult. Hell, I will even make you a king of sorts.” Malice glinted in my eyes, his fangs hovering over my arm.
“Wait a minute!” He barked bitterly, ripping his arm away. “I am fine as I a-” Pinning him down, he struggled under my swelling strength. Banging his head against the ground repeatedly, fury boiled in my veins. Blood soaked his hair, his claws dug into my arm. What the hell was he fucking doing?
“You aren’t fine!” I reprimanded him venomously, letting his head crash back down. “I am offering you a path into the light and a chance to have a relationship with me. What could go wrong?” Flashing him a bright grin, his claws retracted. Pulling my arm close to his fangs, his arm hovered in front of my fangs. Sinking our fangs into each other’s arms, the symbols burned away. The rotten taste of his blood poisoned my taste buds, both of us struggling to swallow our gulps. A swallow flew onto his neck, the inky image settling on his shoulder. Releasing each other from our bites, the union had been formed. Animals stopped singing their nightly ballads, the stillness frightening us all. Our faces paled, a cloaked figure emerged from the shadows. The onyx version of my staff rested in his palm, the silver bat glistening in the moonlight. Tiny bats fluttered around him, ruby eyes glowed underneath his torn hood. Storm clouds thundered to life, lightning bathing the scene in a bright white light. Heavy raindrops crashed to the tops of our head, my hair soon sticking to the sides of my face. A golden glow bathed my staff, the ominous figure marching towards us. His ash gray robes fluttered in the breeze, my death glare falling on my quivering father.
“Riot, it’s time to repay your debt.” A deep voice thundered, a row of blood stained fangs greeting me. “You must be the wee little swallow I keep hearing about. You could join my team and take over the world. However, swallows always tend to want to fly free.” Riot stirred underneath me, his pleading eyes begging for me to stop as I leapt to my feet. Raising my staff in the attack position, my silver waves blew behind me.
“I can’t have you hurting my father. He may be a dick but I think we can fix things.” I proclaimed proudly, wicked laughter bursting from my lips. “Family is something to be cherished. There is one clear difference between us. The swallow gets to see the sun while you must hide in the shadows. Tell me how it feels to not have anything to live for.” Circling him, his fingers curled around the center of his staff. A metallic clang matched the next bolt of lighting, two straight silver blades glinted menacingly. A flurry of feathers swirled around me, my shaft shifting into dual scythes. Charging at me, our blades clashed violently. Leaping into the air, his blade catching my foot. Demy cried out, another simple wave sending him back. Using the angle to my advantage, my wrists flicked the scythes in the other direction. Pushing off of his back, a single swing sliced off his arms. Jumping off the mausoleum, dismay dimmed my eyes at the sight of his arms growing back. A bolt of lightning captured my attention, both of his swords whistled in my direction. A strangled gasp tumbled from my lips, one of his blades quivered in my stomach. A steady stream of curse words rang out, my trembling hands ripping it out. The damn blade burnt the surface of my palm, the black smoke curling into the sky. Tossing it to the side, my body crashed into a tight ball. An inky pool spread underneath me, copper poisoned my taste buds. Coughing up an unnatural amount of blood, my quivering fingers gripped my scythes’ handles. Struggling to my feet, tears stained my cheeks. Wiping them away, warm intestines struggled to stay in place. Dropping my scythe’s, both of my hands held it all in. Damn it! This hurt like hell. The corner of my lips curled into a snarl, a river of inky blackness cascaded through my fingers. Crawling over to a black iron nail resting in the ground, Demy stirred awake. Tossing it up into the air, Riot skidded past us. Kicking the nail into the sea of grass, a blast of energy shot me up in the air as the hooded figure snapped his fingers. Holding in my innards, every part of my body ached with every roll down the hill. Rolling into the nearest head stone, panic gripped my face. Demy rushed over, his voice fading in and out.
“Little swallow, you need to hang on.” He begged through a wall of tears, my old man shoving him out of the way. Cutting his palm, his blood poured into my wound. Taking a deep breath, his lips moved a mile a minute. The wound sealed shut, only a faint scar remaining. Shock rounded his eyes at my warm embrace, his arms hanging limply by his side. Shock changed to confusion, his mind seeming to be officially broken.
“I tried to kill you, yet you still stand up for me?” He stammered nervously, shoving me off. “I have been nothing but a dick to you. I murdered your mother and I still don’t care.” Shrugging my shoulders, a bright smile spread cheek to cheek. Struggling to find the words, he needed to have his second chance at life.
“Look at it from my perspective. I have a parent again. We can work out all of the kinks. I have to believe you can’t be that bad. You did just save me after all.” I assured him calmly, his nerves fraying further. “I am going to repeat this to you. I love you. So let’s cause a riot together.” Strands of his hair fell in front of his face, his clawed hand reaching for me. Cupping his hand, Demy rolled his eyes.
“You want to cause a riot with me?” He asked with a nervous grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “I have never heard anyone say that to me. You do know that I murdered a shit ton of people, right? I was a knight to a corrupt king, and killed without any remorse. I kept telling myself it was just an order. So many people died because of me.” Grasping his shoulder, my sins rolled off of my tongue.
“Forgive me father for I have sinned. I was an assassin before this and a damn good one. I think I was a little too good at it.” I admitted sheepishly, his expression softening. “I killed thousands of men but never the women and children. I set them up with my salary. Apparently you didn’t do the same but you can start saving people. I will have to smooth things over with the ghosts. Perhaps I can burn their favorite scents to please them or put on a show that they like. Their taste is something else.” Demy rolled his eyes, my old man hugging me awkwardly. Scarlet colored his cheeks, the embarrassment was simply adorable. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, a small smile twitched on his lips.
“Don’t break yourself by trying to smile. We can work up to that too.” I teased lightly, letting him go. “Let’s go home.” Jumping to my feet, my hand hovered in front of his face. Accepting it cautiously, one yank brought him to his feet. Hooking my elbow in his, Demy tossed me my staff. Blowing him a kiss, Demy winked back at me. Smiling gently to myself, a new part of my journey was about to begin.

First/Prev
The first explosion came an hour before dawn.
It was the right time for an attack; everybody knew that. The guards are tired, most people are asleep, and those who hear something suspicious but aren't close enough to know it's an attack will find any excuse for a few more minutes' sleep. The attackers are wired up and ready, their eyes used to the dark, while anyone who was sitting around the fire will be night-blind.
This was common wisdom to the San, something they assumed everybody knew, but it may well have been thousands of years since the Sovereign Residence on Noepe saw attack. Those who saw the explosion still didn't see the attack—that had begun half an hour before.
Three groups had crept carefully through the grounds, taking advantage of the cover. A few irritating sling stones from a building across the plaza had gotten the larger animals up and roaring, batting at the bars of their cages to call attention and cover sounds, and from the sides the groups came in.
Showers of spears and slingstones took care of the guards, slingstones dealt with the sensors, and the San flowed over the wall as silently as they could manage. The guards were alert as they could be, but the San and the Kel both had hunted the forests and the mountains of home, hunted among hyenas and lions and wolves that hunted back, hunted the chamois and the ibex that could hear a misplaced foot with ease.
By the time a volley of laser fire dealt with the gate guards and knocked many off the walls, the invasion was already well under way and the guards knew it. Two of the groups—about three dozen each, one lead by Logog and one by Barab, circled the grounds, with slingers breaking every sensor they could find. A massive sortie from the building itself flowed into the courtyard, and after a single volley of spears the attackers retreated. Given the chance they might have been able to ambush the defenders, but there were too many, and they were not foolish. They kept their ranks together, rifles ready, and when a spear flew from the dark a dozen rifles centered on its source and three dozen more peppered laser fire all around it. The costs were heavy, especially since they brought no dogs. As lights came on they went out again, smashed by stones, but when the sun came up in the West the warriors retreated, four groups of thirty slipping back over the walls as other soldiers rushed to man them, getting clear before the air vehicles could get overhead and spot them. Explosions rocked the air, and other eggs fell inside the walls and short of them, spewing smoke and chaff.
At the walls, the battle did not go well. Some dozen of the San were killed and three or four times that many wounded, and aside from those picked off the walls the defenders suffered nothing. The gate guards were not all killed, and they managed to close the gate well before the San could run the gauntlet of plasma bolters and Klokin guns to reach it. The shields protecting the walls held up easily under barrages of exploding eggs, and before long the San retreated, then scattered, fleeing a thousand different directions into a thousand different areas of the city. Three or four dozen were seen immediately after in bars or restaurants, but the rest were quietly moving North, out of the city by a hundred different methods. Some even took trains back to Shangshen, where they could pick up the vehicles just in case.
Nobody really noticed the two dozen men and women who found their way in through a maintenance door.
The soldiers weren't truly so careless as to leave one open. The poor maintenance worker who opened it for them was now soundly tied and gagged. Higa had wanted to leave the woman there, but Mogan had let her see his spare knife, set it on one side of the storage room, and then carried her gently to the other side. She would be able to wiggle back to his knife and cut herself loose, but by the time she did they would be finished and dead or finished and gone.
Half of them brought pistols, including Mogan, but hoped not to use them. The 'pop' of expanding steam and burning impurities would be an instant giveaway that something was wrong, much less the sound of whatever a laser hit, and so they each walked with a spear nocked, eyes constantly moving.
Ellisan used her wristpad to map where they had been, but that didn't precisely tell them where they were going, and the moved slowly.
“Use your noses,” Mogan whispered. “This is a luxury place, yes?”
The walls were testament to that, covered in precious metals, beautiful woods and stones, with paintings and decorations. It seemed each room had a floor in a different style of wood or stone, and soft light kept everything illuminated.
“If we find where the food is cooked, where she eats it won't be far. They won't risk the food getting cool or warm from distance, right? Food and cleaning chemicals.”
It wasn't a bad idea, but that wasn't how they found the Governess. Two guards came around a corner, and whipped up their rifles, but it was too late. One of them managed an ineffectual shot into the floor before four spears hit him; the other didn't even get that before four slammed through him.
Even so, one shot was more noise than they wanted, and everybody froze, listening. Ellisan's eyes brightened, and she whispered.
“Wind.”
Nobody spoke—perhaps straining to hear it themselves, perhaps waiting for her to explain.
“I hear it—wind going through... not branches—columns or rails, I guess.”
Mogan nodded. “Balconies.”
“Someplace you could look out at all your subjects,” Higa agreed.
“Maybe,” Mogan said, but it was all they had, and so they decided on going up. Someone suggested that after the attack Governess Shenya would be buried somewhere, in the most fortified part of the building, but Mogan knew better. They were rabble—anybody who didn't have a higher station than her was—and Shenya would not move for rabble, no matter the wisdom or necessity.
From what they could see the building was six stories high—presumably if they found stairs or a ramp it would go all the way up, but they had to find it first, and so they got moving again.
When they finally found the stairs, they found the second story even more opulent than the first. Mogan was certain that the walls of entire rooms were coated in precious metals, and one window big enough for him to stand up in was filled not with glass but entirely with gemstones.
It seemed that the second floor was better guarded, but Mogan presumed that there just weren't as many maintenance areas that didn't need so many guards. Whatever the reason or the implications, one guard managed a shout before whistling spears silenced him, and three more guards sprinted down the hallway into an ambush. It was more luck than they had a right to, and Mogan couldn't help thinking it could not last forever. He was right.
After the next three guards were downed and their rifles appropriated, there were a few tense moments of silence. The bodies downstairs had been stashed behind furniture, but there was no time to properly hide them, nor to clean up the bloodstains, and they couldn't go much longer before they were found. Worse, they didn't see any visual devices but had no idea what might be seeing them.
The San advanced, appropriating the guards' rifles as they searched for another stairway leading upwards. They snuck past walls entirely lined with exotic furs, displays of animal teeth and walls made of thin strips of tusk, others coated with material that looked like the inside of a clamshell. They saw no other guards, and Mogan found himself shaking his head. It made no sense.
And then, quite suddenly, it made perfect sense. Two walls slid almost instantly into the ceiling, revealing two dozen men and women with leveled laser rifles on each side. The officer, blue uniform decorated with gold braid and pistol in hand, smiled widely.
“You were looking for the governess, yes? Well, put down your weapons and we'll take you to her!”
The pistol leveled at Mogan's head. “Now, please.”
Two dozen warriors of the San walked up the staircase. They were disarmed and surrounded, but couldn't help feeling slightly amused. Walking up four flights of stairs had barely changed their breathing, while the Sylfa guarding them needed to catch their breath.
Mogan had muttered to them to keep quiet, and to wait for his signal. He suspected that a few of them had managed to hide weapons, even if just a knife or two, and now was not the time for them. If he remembered Shenya rightly, they were indeed being taken to her. There were few things that Shenya did well, but she knew how to hate. That, she was quite good at, and from what Mogan had seen here on Noepe the years had not brought her kindness. He would just have to hope they hadn't brought her wisdom either.
Mogan walked a little ahead, keeping the pace up, as they walked past yet more disgusting opulence. Holos coated these walls, and between them occasional sculptures of actual paintings. There was no rhythm to what would be next, and Mogan realized that the sculptures and paintings had been made when holos were still available,simply to use the style. Nonetheless, the story they told was impressive.
The first showed Noepe as it doubtless was when first discovered, with desert and thin forest, and heavy ice-caps. There was not as much ice on Noepe as he had seen in the orbit of his home planet, but quite a bit more than there was currently.
Various works showed the efforts taken to change the planet. Machines were set to deliberately warm the air, causing the ice to retreat as resorts were built at the oceans. When the water began to rise, ships simply carried it off planet. Soil was treated where plains were wanted so that forests could not grow, water pumped into the deserts, the thinner trees replaced with others from different planets.
The first governor—or perhaps the Sovereign at the time--was represented in different styles, gesturing imperiously as forests were cleared simply to replant them. There were hunts, then massive hunts where soldiers shot animals by the hundreds and left them to rot, before other creatures were introduced. Machines were made to scour the seas for dangerous fish or those that interfered with the best sport.
The poachers were represented as well, ragged and dirty men and women dragging down noble-looking creatures and tearing at them. One rather well-painted hanging depicted a battle, where men and women charged, brandishing their own fingernails, at phalanxes of disciplined gunners. The painting was ancient, quite possibly older than anything in the Moon Lake cave, but clearly Shenya's treatment of those who would kill the game reserved to the Sovereign was not entirely unique.
More opulent hunts followed, at least one of which featured a hunter, likely the Sovereign himself, at the aiming reticule of a plasma bolter, killing beasts that looked like those Mogan had seen on New Klon but twice as large.
There were two rebellions and three revolts featured in these murals. In each, the rebels were dirty and ragged, and when warfare was depicted it was always ragged mobs of rebels versus disciplined blocks of Sylfa. Even those in the trees were somehow all side-by-side in neat rows. The only time the enemies of the Sovereignty appeared in neat rows was in executions, and there were many of those.
They also, he noticed, had no Sylfa. Most of the poachers he had met were Sylfa, but all of the poachers, the rebels, and the revolters were entirely Anthata, Shawing, Mantu, and some of the other more common species.
There was little or no time to observe details, as the small group swept up the wide hallways into a spacious room. There were six columns, but Mogan suspected they were less from necessity and more to give the room the open-forest feel popular among Sylfa. The ceiling was high enough that a Mantu probably could not touch it, and they were greeted by the sound of a shoshir sliding from its scabbard.
Mogan knew the sound. For that matter, he knew the shoshir. He knew the woman as well.
The years may not have granted Shenya El' Esh wisdom or kindness, but they had certainly granted her beauty. She had been a stunning young woman when he saw her before, some sixteen years ago, but she had grown, rounded in all the right places. Sylfa tended to be thinner than humans, and she still was—except for her chest, where surgery had been involved—but the curves were undeniable. He heard more than one of those behind him gasp.
“I am going to kill each and every one of you.” She pointed the shoshir at Mogan. The L-shaped handle fit the two hands on her right side easily, and it didn't tremble. Mogan knew the blade well. Long ago, he had taken it from the assassin Fhlynn and had it given to her, but she had hated him before that. She had held him in contempt from the first moment she saw him, but when Fhlynn said something mocking and pointed at him, she had turned to look. Mogan had seen the man's other hands, one covering her drink from her view, the other pouring something from a small vial into it. She had likely hated him from the moment he knocked over the drink, spilling it across the table and her clothes.
“Surely you've had time to replace that dress by now, Shenya.”
“It's not about the dress, Mogan. It's not even about Ellisan, although you know she's illegal. And the one with the scar on his chin and the burn over his eye, that must be Higa—I just might send your head back to Burjit.”
She smirked as they stared. Ellisan mouthed a word, a name, but Mogan put it aside. That was something he didn't want to deal with at the moment.”
“You know I was saving your life that day.”
“Don't lie to me, Mogan. It's really not a good look for your last moments.”
“Fhlynn was an assassin, Ellisan. That's why he came here after me. He chased us a long way and we got away from him, and then I chased him, and he didn't do so well.”
“Enough of that!” Her beautiful lips twisted in a snarl. “Where is Shett?”
“Yil Shett? I don't know, but I'd like to see him again.”
“I told you not to lie to me, animal. I know that traitor has had it in for me, and ever since he defected I've been plagued with one problem after another! I want to know where he is, so I can send him the holos. He humiliated me when he had the power and I didn't, but that's not how it is anymore!”
“What did he do, Shenya, turn you down? I thought your hips had a little extra wiggle in them when you brought his drink.....”
That had been sixteen years ago, and he truly did suspect it, but he didn't expect it to hit a nerve so well. Shenya stabbed the end of the shoshir into the floor, probably damaging something priceless while she was at it.
“How dare you!? Do you not understand your life is in my hands!? I control the Sovereignty—me! I would let you escape, just so I could watch billions of soldiers hunt you down, if I didn't want the pleasure of killing you myself.”
A tiny bit of spittle flew from her mouth as she shouted, and her face had turned a shade of dark blue that was a little bit alarming.
“I have the power now! Me! You took my man away from me, but now you're in my hands, and I'm going to take everything away from you, including that half-animal!”
Mogan's hands tightened as if he could feel her throat in them, but with a great effort he kept his voice calm. “Your man was weak, Shenya. Do you think you're the Sovereign himself?”
“Even better!” Mogan was pretty sure he saw the shoshir sink a little into the floor as she leaned on it. “Fhlynn wasn't good enough for what I wanted, but the Sovereign is! And he does what I say! When I say you're an enemy of the entire Sovereignty, it happens!”
All four hands rested on the hilt and she leaned forward. It was nice for the view, but every muscle was tense as she snarled. “I spoke, and I leaned against his arm, and I had all the information about you that anybody knew. I spoke, and I just trailed my hands across his shoulders, and Shirfa was named a hero of the Sovereignty! I spoke, and I wiggled my ass in some stupid lacy thing he likes, and the reports naming your species non-sapient were given the Sovereign seal of approval—disputing a single word of it used to mean pissing off a Yil, but now it's an instant death sentence to even look for evidence against it--all the efforts of those idiots Hyeshi and Schlo trying to change it were wasted!”
Mogan grunted, but she was grinning now. At least, her mouth formed a parody of a smile, while her eyes burned with hate. “I want you to know it before you die, Mogan! I made it happen! I spoke, and I touched him, and no university in the Sovereignty would publish from either of them! I spoke, and I put my mouth on him, and your whore was abandoned on some worthless wilderness planet that won't see another sapient being for another hundred---”
She was already screaming, or almost, but now her scream turned into something shocked and stuttering as Mogan extended his left hand.
Some of the warriors of the San had seen him do this once before. They had believed that he commanded lightning itself, and it had helped to cement his reputation as one blessed by the spirits. Now they knew that the hand was mechanical, and they could assume that the bolt of electricity that shot from it was also mechanical, but it was no less impressive.
The Animal Person that he had struck nearly a decade ago had literally flown several yards back. One of the assassins here on Noepe, some sixteen years ago, had been knocked down. Shenya didn't, perhaps because the sword stabbed into the floor was an anchor. All four hands clamped down on the handle and electricity crackled and sparked all along the long, flowing blade of gold-titanium alloy as she convulsed, smoke rising from her hands and from her face as her hair smoked, and then a moment later she did leave the ground, landing in a heap some three or four meters away.
An ugly death, but an excellent signal. There was a beep that Mogan recognized, and then Higa threw one of Burjit's eggs. Two others had managed to hide knives before they were seen—and the rest had to go unarmed.
They were not defenseless in this. Everyone wrestled as a youngster, learning how to manage their weight and the weight of another, and while matches weren't supposed to cause harm beyond an occasional bruise, it was easy to tell how things could be worse.
In truth, the Sylfa had it easier than some others. One man simply grabbed a soldier by the waist, lifted him off his feet, and dropped him. Against a human, this was a good way to break a hip or back and perhaps start a blood feud, but the Sylfa simply didn't fall. It made sense that a species conditioned for climbing couldn't simply be dropped and instead held easily to his attacker, but the man was shot twice before he could react. He fell forward, whether by design in his last moments or by lucky accident, pinning the thinner Sylfa beneath his corpse.
Another threw a Sylfa with a rolling hiplock, and a third stomped on the soldier's head as he landed, while a fourth grabbed his rifle.
Higa's explosive went off. Mogan didn't know whether he'd intended to be sure of Shenya or not, but he could see her body twitch as shrapnel struck it, and half a dozen soldiers fell.
Mogan himself was never truly unarmed. Another bolt of electricity struck a soldier who was trying to take aim, and then he slammed a fist harder than steel into a blue-green face. Blood flowed as the guard staggered back, his face a cratered ruin, and then lasers flew as Ellisan grabbed the man's rifle and fired it as fast as she could. Not every shot hit, not even most, but some did.
But Ellisan wasn't the only one firing. As skilled as the San might have been, they were outnumbered two to one, and they were unarmed, and nobody fights a battle like that without taking losses. Half a dozen men fell in the first few seconds, and perhaps half-again that many of the soldiers, while the others sought cover behind couches and overturned tables.
“Cover!” Higa threw one more egg, then found something to duck behind himself. Alarms began to sound, and he made two hand gestures, hunting signals that were often used so that they wouldn't alert game. One indicated he was out of ammunition, another that they needed to pull back. Lasers flashed back and forth as the San backed up with stolen rifles, and Ellisan, bless her, managed to grab one of the bags that had held their own confiscated weapons.
When they reached the doors and took stock, the results of their battle weren't pretty. Everyone was wounded to some degree, and of the twenty-five people who went into that room only eleven made it out. It was a note of sick humor that at least now the bag Ellisan had grabbed had enough weapons for everyone.
“We're not going to fight our way down, Mogan.” Higa panted, holding his side. He hissed as Mogan sprayed in the sealant. “This was a good day, my friend.”
“And it's not done yet. We're not going down. There will be flyers on the roof, and Ellisan can fly anything.”
Ellisan was trying not to scream, holding the cauterized stump where her lower left hand once was. “And then where?”
“....I don't know.”

It's the First of April. Thats all I will say.
________________________________________
The New Hope
Vance was tired, he had been on the run all day long. What had looked to be another boring routine survey mission into a simple uncharted binary star system had turned out to be quite a bit more.
Stopping for a quick breather, Vance pulled out his hydroflask and took a long pull of the lukewarm water. It might have been a bit stale, but to him it tasted sweet as cherry soda. The hydroflask sealed with a pop as he replaced it on his belt. It would slowly draw moisture from the air and condense it inside, refilling over time.
Good thing too, this planet seemed to be a never-ending desert. Everywhere he turned to look the relentless twin suns beat down on his thick grey fur, causing him to pant heavily as he tried to cool himself down futilely.
Vance was Yeown, a member race of the Sapient Congressional Union. He stood just under two meters tall though his shoulders were hunched and his long arms were held at a low ready by his sides. His slightly werewolf-like features were currently scrunched into a scowl as he surveyed the surrounding landscape, trying to determine what his next move should be.
That's when he saw it, on the horizon, smoke. Smoke meant fire, and as so often was the case, fire often meant people and civilization.
A destination in sight and a goal in mind, he was now feeling much better about his situation. Vance took a few minutes of walking along the endless dunes to once more marvel on his situation. The fact that he was able to breath without his constricting environmental suit was a miracle. Naturally habitable planets were rare, not so rare as to be nonexistent, but rare enough that his chance stumbling blindly across one was likely a once in a lifetime experience. Well, once in a lifetime if he didn't find shelter was a near guarantee.
His people had evolved on a cooler, more temperate world. The Yeown homeworld of Bright Moon was a temperate world with large polar regions and thick evergreen forests that covered much of the planet’s surface. This relentless heat was slowly but surely killing him. If he didn't find a place to cool off in the next few hours he was likely to suffer heat exhaustion and die.
Vance shivered at the thought. His mummified remains would be lost to the endless sands of this cruel desert. He looked forwards again, the smoke did in fact seem closer now that he really scrutinized it. He grinned, pointed carnivore teeth bared in a terrible grimace. Any non-herbivore species able to see him at that moment would likely have had a fit, his bestial features less sapient in appearance than most other known races.
While this did not frequently bother him, it had on occasion caused some small disturbance to other member races. In particular dimwitted humans.
He snarled quietly, the SCU had only made contact with his people forty years in the past. Plenty of time for the other member races of the Union to become acquainted, but they hadn't. It seemed that many of them harbored an instinctive mistrust towards the Yeown. Whether it was born of ancestral fear or prejudice meant little to Vance, it was wrong. There were even whisperings of succession in some of the more extreme circles.
It would never happen though. The Union was truly vast, thousands of inhabited worlds spanning thousands of light years and with a population numbering in the hundreds of quadrillions of sapient beings. There was no realistic way that their tiny population of a few billion could hope to stand up to the might of quadrillions.
He put thoughts of rebellion out of his head, the Union wasn't some tyrannical galactic empire after all, they did seem to have the best interests of their citizens in mind. ‘Most of the time.’ He thought silently, bitterness reentering his thoughts in spite of himself.
The smoke drew steadily closer, thoughts of what kind of strange people might inhabit such a desolate world caused his mind to enter a tizzy. From what he knew of desert creatures they tended towards the more insectoid or reptilian. Mammals were a rare sight on such worlds, would they accept him as a sapient being? What if they tried to kill him?
Dark thoughts of murder and cannibalism entered his mind unbidden. Such creatures existed across the Union, Flesh tearers and the other psychotic bloodthirsty pirates that frequented the less populated regions of the galaxy. Was it possible that the indigenous people of this world would be the same?
His ship had not detected radio signals before he had mysteriously lost power. Only by switching to his secondary generator had he been able to prevent himself from becoming a glassed crater in the planet’s surface, barely. His ship had suffered catastrophic damage in the landing and he had decided to try and scout out the area.
Thats where he had made his first mistake, he had oriented himself towards the morning sun and started off, but soon after the first had risen then another sun had made its presence known in the ever-brightening sky. His compass had been useless and his trail had been obscured by fresh blown sand. Soon he had found himself hopelessly lost.
With no landmarks to follow and two suns causing him to confuse the direction he had come from, he had started to lose all hope of making it off the planet alive. But then he had seen the smoke, like a beacon it inspired hope in his chest.
He took another large panting breath before taking a moment to rest in a shallow hollow. He cocked his head as he spotted the first life he had yet seen on the planet, a small scraggly bush, barely alive by the looks of it. Its wood was covered in gnarls and grey twigs, knobby and blistered by uncountable days of exposure to the harsh elements.
Still, where there was life there was water, that was a good sign as he was drinking from his hydroflask faster than it seemed to be able to replenish
He took another deep shuddering breath, his break had done nothing but drawn attention to his aching muscles and sore joints. Walking for hours through the soft sand had turned his legs to jelly and his feet to raw meat. His large clawed paw-like feet generally had no problems with the terrain, but the hot sand had slowly begun to scour the softer flesh between his toes. While he wasn't bleeding yet, the flesh was raw and tender, he knew that he would have to clean them soon so as to prevent potential infections.
Vance had received a universal inoculation when he had turned the age of twelve, but while it was essentially an immune booster it was not a cureall. One could still get sick, the inoculation simply boosted the natural strength of his immune system. The result was near human levels of disease resistance but at the cost of becoming quite tired while fighting off an infection.
As Vance crested the next rise he froze, the cause of the smoke was now directly in front of him. The low rolling sand dunes gave way to an expanse of flattened earth, less sandy, more dusty.
In the middle of this flattened land was a large sunken pit of some sort and a low hut-like structure. The hut was the cause of the smoke, the structure charred and covered in strange marks.
Vance hunkered down, all thoughts of his sore muscles and raw feet forgotten as he observed the scene. It looked like the aftermath of a war zone, a high-tech warzone at that. The strange marks resolving themselves into some sort of burns like those made by energy weapons.
He swore loudly, then immediately snapped his mouth closed. Whatever or whoever had caused the damage might still be nearby, and from the looks of the place they would likely not have his best interests in mind either.
He waited a full ten minutes but no enemies appeared, he looked around and then swore quietly “Frine’s furred ass…” He needed a place to shelter and he couldn't wait any longer. Dangerous or not, the chance of death was better than certain death, and so he found himself moving towards the low round building. His body held low as he used his arms and legs to creep forwards.
He reached the side of the building and stopped, a new smell reached his strong senses. After nothing but the hot slightly metallic smell of the dunes and his gear, it was a bit of a surprise to smell something different. He smelled burnt flesh, the smell making his mouth water slightly. He had not had fresh meat for months, subsisting off the dried and freeze dried rations he was provided with by the company.
His stomach growled involuntarily and he swiped his tongue over his lips. He had a bad feeling that what he was about to find might not be a delicious home cooked meal though.
Sure enough as soon as he crept around to the front of the building he recoiled. In front of the door were the charred remains of two creatures, strangely familiar but unrecognizable due to the damage.
He looked closer despite his disgust, the creatures looked far too familiar, two legs and arms. A body shape similar to that of a human, but that was not too surprising he surmised. More than one of the Union member races seemed to take after that appearance, humanoid as the humans called it. And of course they would, they named everything after themselves the selfish hairless packbreakers.
Vance snorted, trying to get the smell out of his nostrils as he slunk by into the building itself. The building was larger than he had at first supposed. The doorway turned out to be a set of stairs that led underground in the direction of the large pit he had observed earlier. ‘They must be a burrowing race.’ He thought idly as he descended into the structure.
Indeed as he reached the bottom of the stairs it opened up into a small house built almost entirely underground. Though one of the rooms seemed lit, it must connect to the large open pit. The room was scorched, the look of a fire that must have raged out of control.
Even with the oppressive smell of charr and soot it was cooler than the surface. He located what looked like the remains of a stool and wiped it off before sitting. He gave a long sigh before taking another long swig from his hydroflask. It felt good to be sitting, his aching muscles and feet groaned in protest as he tried to regain his strength.
After a few minutes his breathing had slowed and he was feeling much more comfortable. He flexed his feet, he needed to find something to wash them with, he looked around. He couldn't see any obvious means of water storage. The planet was hot, hot and dry. But surely the local life drank water, or at least knew of its existence.
He stood, wincing slightly as his sore feet protested, the sand between his toes a constant sting. He limped over to the far wall and moved a few charred items off a nearby shelf. Nothing of use it seemed, then he stopped. He looked at the end of the counter before moving quickly towards a large box at the end of the counter, it looked like.
“Yes!” He said triumphantly. It had been some sort of refrigerator.
It seemed that whatever damage had been done to its exterior was entirely superficial as the inside lit up dimly with a soft bluish glow as he opened it. He grabbed for the large container of clear liquid on the uppermost shelf.
He was about to take a deep drink when his common sense stopped him. He had no idea what the liquid was, it could have been almost anything, so he pulled out a small analysis tool from his belt. Generally the small device was used to assay rocks and other samples brought onboard by his probes, but it should do just as well identifying the basic elements of the liquid.
Placing a small drop from the jug inside, he turned the device on and waited as it whirred softly. After about a minute it made a series of low beeps. Checking the display he smiled, hydrogen and oxygen bonded into di-hydrogen monoxide molecules, more commonly known as water.
He took a tentative taste, the cool clean water taking away the dull scratchiness in his mouth. He took another swallow, this one deeper and more satisfying. Sighing contentedly he looked into the small cooling unit again, there were some other items of interest, not the least of which was a small wrapped package of what appeared to be some meat-like substance.
While he wasn't hungry per-se, his instinctual craving for thick juicy chunks of meat was trying to get the better of him. He paused and then growled deep from his chest. There was no way he would pass up the opportunity if it was remotely safe to eat, and so he pulled out the protein analyzer from one of his vest pouches. While similar to the analysis tool, it would instead check the compounds of the product and check for incompatibilities. If none were expressly detected then it was in all likelihood compatible with his system. While he wasn't capable of the incredible culinary feats of humans who seemed to be capable of eating almost anything they could fit in their mouths, he could digest a wide variety of proteins and fats from many worlds he was not native to.
This ability made him confident that he would be able to eat the morsel without incident, though it was always better safe than sorry. He waited an irritating three minutes before the small device gave a chime and flashed green. That was a good sign, checking the screen on the analyzer it told him what he had hoped to see. What he had was a foreign foodstuff that seemed perfectly compatible with his biology, that was a little odd. Generally a food safe to eat from an alternate world would be at least partially incompatible with his digestion, but this seemed like it had been made specifically for him.
Shrugging at this turn of good fortune he grabbed the fist sized package and sat once more at the sooty stool. Unwrapping the meat fully he was hit with a delicious smell, like sweet and briny at the same time. He pulled out his survival knife and used it to carve off a chunk of the meat before taking a bite.
Immediately his mouth exploded with the flavors of the exotic flesh, it was tender and soft, hints of sweetness and a deep salty undertone that satisfied his cravings like nothing he had ever yet tasted before. It was like some cross of sea creature and cultured livestock, it was in all parts delicious. Vance found himself chowing down on the strange feast, before he knew it the meat was gone, his mouth still watering from the abundance of flavors.
He sat back on the stool, back pressed against one of the earthen walls and gave a sigh. He felt content. He felt a comfortable sleep threaten to overtake him and so sat up and then stood. There was still far too much to do before he could allow himself that luxury. He took the water jug and slowly poured a small measure of the precious liquid over his feet, taking care to maximize its usefulness in case he was unable to find more. After a minute of this he felt comfortable enough to take another look around.
He moved around the room, checking the walls and furniture for other potentially useful items, nothing jumped out at him explicitly but he kept at it. As he finished the common area he moved into some of the adjoining rooms but they all looked the same. Charred and with pieces of broken furniture lying in smoldering piles all around. Before he knew it he stepped out into the open air once more, but it was shaded. He looked around curiously, it seemed to be some sort of sunken courtyard.
Along the walls were what looked like some sort of long boxes connected to the metal walls with pipes and wires, he moved closer and saw that many had small green shoots and fronds inside. So this must be some sort of farm then he mused to himself. In the center of the area was a tall machine of some sort, tubes and small vanes covered its entire surface and he stepped close to it. His sensitive pointed ears swiveled slightly to better pick up faint sounds and he smiled again as he heard the distinct sound of liquid moving through the smaller pipes.
This must be some sort of atmospheric condenser, they were relatively common on dry desert planets but to see one on an uncharted and alien world was a shock. These people must be somewhat advanced to have electricity and condensers. Maybe if they had such technology they had a faster way of moving across the dunes. Some sort of buggy or skiff.
Vance looked around, well, it likely wasn't down in the pit, making up his mind he walked back into the underground house and made his way back to the kitchen area. Looking around for a moment he walked to the water jug he had left on the blackened countertop. Taking another drink from his hydroflask he poured out the small amount of water that remained and then refilled it with the much cleaner purified water from the jug. Now at least he would be able to drink it without tasting the inside of the micro condensers from his hydroflask.
He gathered all his gear and gave the darkened room one last look, nothing caught his immediate attention so he left, walking up the long staircase to the surface. He stepped around the two charred corpses at the front of the structure again and looked round. The area around the dwelling was clat and mostly clear, though about fifty meters away he spotted what looked like another tall condenser. Next to it was a small pile of boxes and crates, it was the only thing in sight that might hold something of interest so he started towards it.
As Vance reached the small pile he cocked his head, something went scampering from the cracks between the crates, a small creature that seemed to hop on two legs. It stopped a few meters from him and he looked at it intently. It was no bigger than a Znot, in fact, other than missing the extra limbs, it seemed remarkably similar. It had tan wrinkly skin that blended into the surrounding dirt and a long nose that it brushed a few times as he watched. It must have been some sort of small rodent equivalent native to this world. As he looked at the small critter It gave a small series of squeaks and scurried away, its tail disappearing back into the large pile of boxes.
He gave a small chuckle, it seemed like a harmless enough animal. As he walked around the boxes he stopped, on the far side previously out of sight sat some sort of contraption. The strange machine seemed to hover on some sort of antigravity cushion, as he approached and pushed on it it moved slightly but stayed remarkably stable. He gave it a look over, its purpose started to become clear to him the more he looked. It was long and thin, with a series of tubes and machinery along the bottom. The middle of the device had a saddle-like seat behind a pair of handlebars attached to a pair of long vaned tubes that jutted from the front. It almost looked like some sort of wheelless motorcycle, a popular type of vehicle frequently used in the more rural parts of the Union that he frequented.
He shrugged and climbed on, the seat was a little uncomfortable as it seemed designed for a smaller species, but it would be fine. He found the control stirrups and placed his feet in them. He gripped the handlebars tightly and kicked back on the pedals. The machine made a series of coughing noises and then returned to its seemingly inert status. It was still hovering however so it must still have been working.
Vance looked around and found a small switch on the body under the handles. He shrugged and flicked it, the machine seemed to whirr slightly but nothing else changed. Once more he pushed back on the pedals and gasped as the vehicle leapt forwards with an acceleration that threatened to tear the breath from his lungs. He eased off the pedals and the device slowed to a more manageable speed. He experimented with the handles and turned to the left, the vanes seemed to catch the air and the hovering vehicle made a neat left hand turn.
He smiled wide as the air rushed by his ears, the wind cooling him and weakening the oppressive heat of the planet. “What a way to travel," he chuckled to himself.
Getting the hang of the device took only minutes, after he had determined he understood the mechanics of the device he returned to the crate and dismounted, making sure to flick off the powerswitch lest the thing take off without him. That would put him firmly back to square one again.
He quickly checked the boxes, many of them were empty, a few held bits of machinery that he didn't know the purpose of. The last one he checked seemed to have some sort of mechanical device inside, it looked like a robot of some sort. Short and squat with a pair of wheeled legs on its sides. Its dome-like top was painted red and white and seemed to house a series of sensors and hatches. It appeared inactive and so he closed the top, not wanting to mess with something that he didn't know the purpose of. While he suspected it wasn't a device designed for destruction, there was no way of knowing and so it was better left untouched.
Vance climbed back onto the hovering bike, the hoverbike as he was starting to call it in his head, he flicked it back on and sat still. He had a means of transportation, but he had no destination. Which way would he go? He thought about heading back towards his ship but then thought better of it, there wasn't much of a point in going back to it anyways. It was done for, damaged beyond repair. Besides, from what he had seen of the area on the way over there was no life out in the dunes. He moved towards one of the high dunes on the opposite side of the place, stopping at the top he squinted and looked around. In the far distance he could make out what looked like a series of rocks. It was as good a place as any he figured, making a mental note of which direction he had come from he zoomed off towards the distant landmark.
If he considered the rotation of the planet and the rising of the suns being to the East as was common, then the direction he was heading was roughly north. He liked his odds of finding something north, it must cool down at least a little the further he traveled from the equatorial zones of the planet at the very least.
Vance reached the rocks in less than ten minutes, the same distance would have likely taken him hours to walk but he put it out of his mind. Signs of life were all around, small lizard-like creatures scattered into the rocks as he approached and he could see small shrub-like plants all around.
The planet wasn't as dead as it had initially looked he surmised, just the vast deserts lacked life. Here among the rocks more conventional life seemed to exist.
Vance slowed for a bit, taking his time as he wound his way through a series of canyons and deep clefts in the rock. At one point he thought he heard the sound of someone yelling, but it faded too fast for him to get a bead on its location.
The eeriness of the planet combined with his total lack of knowledge on what dangers may lay around the corner made his progress slower than it needed to be. He wished he had a weapon, a pistol, a stick, anything. Sure his retractable claws would put the hurt on anything that might come at him but he had no idea what he might be up against. The feeling of not being the top of the food chain sat ill with him, his hackles rose, the collar of fur longer and shaggier near the back of his neck. It had evolved that way to protect the neck from being an easily exploitable weak spot.
He heard a strange wailing noise, at first he thought it was some terrible beast and he froze. But as he listened closer it had the unmistakable undertone of a turbojet fan spinning rapidly. As the thought passed through his mind he exited the narrow canyon he had been traversing and he gasped. The land stretched out in front of him, kilometers and kilometers of open flat rock, and in the distance a settlement or some type. He could make out dozens of structures and a few larger circular buildings whose use he wasn't sure of. It looked to be several kilometers away, not a problem with his new mode of transportation.
High overhead he saw the unmistakable silhouette of a ship leaving the planet, if they had the ability to leave the planet then why had they never been contacted by the Union before? He shook his head and then zoomed towards the small town.
He reached it in minutes, slowing to a walking speed as he saw the main entrance point to the small town appeared guarded. He approached the entry slowly, unsure as to what he should do. He was obviously not the same species as the two white armoured soldiers manning the checkpoint, they looked humanoid in shape whereas he was much taller and lankier. His arms longer and his back hunched.
Another thought entered his mind just as he floated up to the two soldiers, how would he communicate? He racked his brains furiously as he tried to think of a solution, he waved at the two soldiers as they walked over and then nodded in a polite manner. He would just have to pretend to understand and hope nothing made them attack.
He nearly jerked himself off the hoverbike in shock as the first soldier walked over and asked in perfect unaccented common “Identification?”
He had to stop himself from stuttering, the words frozen in his mind at this strange new discovery.
The other soldier, this one with an orange shoulder pad, walked over and asked “Is there a problem here?”
Vance shook his furred head and dug out his ident card, there was no reason it should work but hey, stranger things had happened. He handed the ident card to the first soldier with a muttered “My apologies.”
The soldier seemed to scrutinize the card before looking at him, the featureless black eye lenses of the white helmet only deepening the feelings of paranoia he was feeling at the moment. The soldier turned to his superior and spoke “It's not a form I am familiar with, sir.”
The other soldier took the card and looked at it before handing it back to the trooper “It looks like a match to me. You know how these backworlds are. Let them through.”
Handing the card back the first soldier waved him through saying “Move along.”
Vance did so without another word, tucking his ident card away. He was in disbelief, that had worked? What were the odds? He stopped and took a second to compose himself before his jaw dropped again.
All around him were strange wonders and marvels. Aliens of almost every description wandered to and fro in the streets, strange hovering contraptions moved down the thoroughfares and large almost lizard-like creatures lowed at street corners where small vendors seemed to be hawking wares. He saw strange furred beasts with great horns pulling hovering carts, and a multitude of what seemed to be robots all around. He shivered at the thought of them, artificial intelligence was abhorrent.
It was a most incredible sight and for several minutes he marveled. His examination was cut short as a small hooded figure approached and started speaking at him. This time he was unable to understand the words and shook his head.
“I'm sorry I don't understand. What do you want?” he asked the diminutive creature. He couldn't make out its appearance under the heavy hooded robe it wore, but he could just make out a pair of shiny orange eyes. It seemed to become agitated at his remark and shouted again, his time drawing the attention of several passers by.
The creature made one final scathing alien remark before marching off. Several of the onlookers snickered, likely understanding the insults he had blindly weathered. He growled in a predatory manner and most of them hurried away. While he was not large for a male of his kind, he was much larger than most of these puny creatures.
He started along the street once more, he needed to find a place to get information. A message board, an information kiosk, anything. He shook his head once more, this entire experience had been surreal. The journey feeling more like some crazed dream sequence more so than an actual real series of events.
Many of the aliens he saw looked disturbingly human, several even looked slightly like the slaaveth, though with some minor differences. What was this place, where had he stumbled into? He racked his brains for everything he knew about this region of space. All he could come up with though was that it was near Drivil and uncharted, about three hundred light years past the coreworlds border. An area of space generally referred to as the great frontier.
Suddenly he stopped. He looked again to his right, there across the street next to a pile of wreckage sat another of those strange hovering contraptions. This one a dusty red in color, but that was not what had captured his keen eye. No, next to the hovering vehicle was a low building with the unmistakable look of a bar to it.
He smiled, an alien bar, well, if it was like anything else he had come across it might in fact be more familiar than anything else he had encountered so far. Hopefully they spoke common in there as well. He made his way across the street and then flicked off the hoverbike before dismounting. He looked left and right but saw no way of securing it.
“Oh well.” he said quietly to himself as he walked towards the door of the building. It wasn't like the thing had belonged to him anyways. Maybe it would be there when he came out, probably not. He would just have to cross that stream when he got to it.
Vance walked to the door which opened automatically at his presence, he was immediately hit with a wall of smoky smells and funky noises. A catchy tune that made his long narrow tail twitch in tune and made him want to bob his head. He smiled, his wide grin glinting as the light met his long canines. This seemed just like his kind of place.
He sidled up to the bar top, one of the other patrons giving him a long look. He nodded to the strange green alien and then asked the bartender, a disturbingly human looking alien wearing a tan shirt.
They looked him up and down and asked “Yeah? What will it be?”
Vance frowned slightly and then replied “Information.”
The man seemed to tense and said “That isn't something I generally serve here, a dangerous commodity that is.”
Vance sighed and then replied “Ok then, answer me one question then if you would?” The man nodded slowly. “How does one book passage off this planet? Is there a spaceport I could go through or…” but was cut off as the man waved around the room.
“Off world? Anyone can get you offworld, for the right price. I'm sure if you ask around you might find something suitable, now please, order a drink or leave me alone.” and the man scurried to the far side of the bar.
The strange interaction sat ill with him. He looked around the room, the many patrons of the bar laughing and drinking. Several tables appeared to have various types of gambling or betting going on at them. He smirked, the more things changed the more they seemed to stay the same he supposed.
He jerked as movement met the corner of his eye, turning his head he saw a man waving to him from across the building. He cocked his head and the man seemed to pause. They nodded and then waved him over again. Shrugging he wandered over, he had nothing better to do at the moment after all.
The man was leaning against the wall nearest to the door, his white undershirt and black vest doing nothing to cover the dangerous looking pistol strapped to his side.
Vance cautiously stopped in front of the man. “Hello there, I’m sorry but I couldn't help but overhear you are looking for passage offworld?”
Vance nodded and asked “Yes, you have excellent hearing. Er, I must apologize that I am a bit lost here. Where am I?”
The man smiled charmingly and patted his shoulder while gesturing towards the door. “You are in precisely the right place my friend. I happen to have the fastest ship in the galaxy, where are you headed?”
Vance shook his head and said “Somewhere else, I would like to get back to the Union. But I'll settle for somewhere cooler if that's a start.” he said with a chuckle.
The man nodded and said “Well, that's a good start I suppose. You are able to pay of course?” he asked seriously as they exited the building.
Ah yes of course, money. Vance kicked himself mentally, he had his entire last paycheck in Osmir in one of his pouches. He hated using credit chips, he always felt that his money didn't even exist while using them, he liked to be able to hold it in his hand. Cash was always much more graciously accepted in the frontier where he worked too.
He reached into his money purse and pulled out a handful of Osmir. He handed a few to the man and said “All I have is Union Osmir, would that be acceptable?”
The man looked at the small handful of coins and asked “I suppose, it's not Imperial credits after all. But what is it worth?”
Vance pointed to a few of the coins and rattled of their values “Well, that is a ten credit Osmir, that one is fifty credits and the last one with the largest fleck is a one hundred credit Osmir. I have a few Osmiridium ingots on me. Should be worth a few thousand credits. Would that be adequate?” he said with a bit of a head bob.
The man smiled and held one of the coins up to the light “Osmiridium huh? Yeah I think we can help each other. The name is Han by the way.”
“Hello Han, I'm Vance.” he replied.
“My ship is in bay ninety four, want to meet me there?” Han said to him.
Vance shook his head and said “I don't know where bay ninety four is, are you going that way now? I could follow you there perhaps?”
Han smiled again and looked him up and down saying “Yeah. I think you should be fine to tag along Vance. Follow me then.”
Vance nodded and fell in alongside Han, they walked along the side roads for a few minutes, neither of them seeing a reason to speak until Han steered him towards one of the large circular structures he had seen from the city outskirts. There was a series of alien symbols on the door that he couldn't read but Han smiled and made a gesture. “Here we are, bay ninety four.”
Vance walked inside and frowned as he saw what looked to be a pile of scrap in the rough shape of a starship. A design he was wholly unfamiliar with. “What is that?” he asked, unable to keep a bit of the shock from his voice.
“That?” Han asked. “That's the ship that made the Kessel run in less than twelve parsecs, friend. And time is money as they say. Please welcome yourself aboard the Millennium Falcon.”
Vance looked at the ship, its rough features giving him pause. His trained eye soon looked deeper though, under the scrap and grime he began to see it, the lines of a ship designed for power.
He stood for a moment longer and then turned to Han. the man asked “Well? What do you think?”
Vance gave Han a wide toothy grin as a new hope began to form in his mind and said “I think it's perfect.”
​
==End of Transmission==

Oftentimes, life doesn’t play out like Disney movies; there are no sudden revelations or moments of eureka. Rather, the meaning of life and all its beauty is understood through a series of events: some of them joyful, some of them not; some of them intended, some of them unexpected.
They just happen.
The beauty just happens.
In my case, the MUSICAL EXPERIENCE just happened, and it led me to Chinese indie music.
1
It was an early winter day in Beijing - the fierce wind was blowing off the remnants of fallen leaves from the roadside trees. The sky was covered with a dense mixture of fog and clouds that I could hardly distinguish one from the other. Below the greyish sky, people walked in a hurry for mundane businesses they would forget about in a week, all of them detaching themselves temporarily from the world with their headphones, dreading the sound of their ordinary life.
A scene of almost mournful modernity.
And it was on this very day that indie music stepped into my life. I was walking home with my headphones plugged in, playing songs that were never known publicly in the introverted oriental land, but were once icons of popular culture on the other side of the planet. The distorted guitars gave me chills, and yet my heart was still empty. I was missing something important from the music.
“Classic rock songs weren’t enough,” I thought. I knew I must seek something buried deep in my cultural roots. Using the online music forums on my phone, I quickly found a few mandarin albums from the 2000s that I’d never listened to before and skimmed through their descriptions before click playing of Wan Xiaoli’s 2002 album 走过来 走过去 (Walking Here and There).
As I continued to read more about the albums, the word popped up… Indie. I continued to read: “it commonly refers to music produced independently from major record labels.” Simultaneously, a surprising serenity flowed through my head as the strumming acoustic guitar and Wan’s humming vocals created a tune like no other.
Wan’s music was of simplicity, and yet it discussed such a variety of subjects, ranging from the most commonly described love for mother to international relationships and warfare. However, it was the musical experience that made his music particularly special for me. Standing in a city street full of people but with no one willing to share their true selves with the world, I sensed the essence of Wan’s music: his sincerity and bursting emotions. These two features touched me deeply. The stories Wan told, the tales he sang, and the emotions he conveyed filled the hole in my heart with a medley of nostalgia, ecstasy, and desolation- the complex emotions I needed most on a cold winter day to vitalize my thoughts and fill my senses.
That was my first “musical experience”. Through it, I saw a realm of emotions surrounding me, kaleidoscopic scenes disguised in the form of the gently played notes and softly whispered tales. I had started to grasp what was hidden beneath indie music’s sincerity.
2
Unlike the first, my second musical experience happened during the summer. It was an ideal afternoon on the weekend: I had finished my work and was taking a nap after lunch. Some forty minutes later, the fat old sun beamed through the window and woke me up.
My head felt dizzy; I didn’t want to get up. Instead, I turned on my random music playlist and stayed in bed. When the first notes of the song played out, I immediately recognized the song without looking at its title. It was 河北墨麒麟 (The Black Qilin of Hebei) from the prominent Chinese indie rock band Omnipotent Youth Society.
The song unfolded with a slow-tempo lead-in using drums, bass, and some additional sound effects that illuminated the atmosphere, as if to match my drowsy mood. However, the song quickly turned to a progressive rock approach with the addition of guitars and brass instruments. Slowly yet steadily, the song pushed itself to climax, the part by which I gradually awoke. Listening to all the instruments playing in harmony was absolute satisfaction. The band performed it so well that, even without touching lyrics like Wan Xiaoli’s songs, it still moved me with the melody and the instrumentation.
Then the musical experience began: I visualized the song’s orchestral arrangements colliding with the rock elements like waves crashing against the shore, and I lay there in the intertidal zone, sensing the dynamics and movements from both sides of my body. My room fell apart, replaced by the boundless ocean; the roof above me changed into gigantic coconut leaves, casting shadows over the beach.
No, it can’t be. The song wasn’t about relaxation. Behind those musical shores were hidden dangers – the distorted guitars rumbling in the back, the inharmonic chords crawling beneath the surface. Though they were there from the start, they went unnoticed through their silent endurance, as if they were the staff of a grand show all hidden behind the curtain. Suddenly shocked by the screaming vocals, I saw the Qilin, the sacred mythological creature, emerging from the ocean. It dragged me downstream, all the way to Hebei, the industrial province of China, the hometown of the band.
Hebei is the nearest province to Beijing, but being close to the capital city didn’t benefit it; behind the rapid development of Beijing was the suffering of Hebei in multiple aspects. The province took in blue-collar workers and people Beijing left behind; it also endured the long-term aftermath of extensive industrialization to support the capital city’s economy. That’s where the Qilin took me. I could hear the place’s migrant workers calling for a way out; I could see their repetitive, hopeless lives spent serving “the common good”.
As the screaming vocals floated away, the song came to a close. The musical experience was over, and yet its effects were long-lasting. I understood that another essential part of Chinese indie music is its “Chinese” characteristics. It talked about the people on the same land as me; it is all about the emotions that my fellow countrymen experienced. Most importantly, they were not the emotions I saw in the newspapers and at the downtown centers; they were true, personal emotions that I felt connected with.
3
After everything Chinese indie music had given me, I was determined to offer something back. This autumn, I conducted a study on the cultural elements of Chinese indie music and the factors influencing them. I reviewed various academic sources on the topic, identified different cultures incorporated in Chinese indie music, and collected data from both personal experiences and online data. Ultimately, I came up with an academic paper and presented my results.
From my research, I concluded that the cultural category of ethnic folk (which illustrates lives in a certain region) is more likely to incorporate regional cultural elements. However, stylized indie (which employs various western music styles as the basis) was less likely to refer to regional culture. The mechanism behind the first claim was simple: ethnic folk songs tended to illustrate themes of a certain region; however, the low incorporation of regional culture in stylized indie was a likely result of the genre’s huge application of western music styles.
Furthermore, I recognized that socio-economic status (henceforth referred to as SES) was a determining factor in the cultural incorporation of Chinese indie music. In general, with lower SES came higher rates of regional culture incorporation, and with higher SES came higher rates of general traditional culture incorporation. The finding was consistent with my own observations. Growing up in an urban megacity and the cultural center of China, I was taught from a young age to recognize the importance of general traditional culture, as was the band JaJaTao from Beijing which implemented the traditional Chinese instrument suona into noise rock. Nevertheless, when I reviewed music from Gansu, my ancestral home and also a low-SES region, I found them mostly discussing the local customs and regional landmarks in a native tone. For example, the yellow river appeared multiple times as a motherly figure in the Gansu band Low Wormwood’s songs.
Through research, I created my own musical experience, one not of imagination, but of real-life achievement. They seemed to be disparate, but in essence, they were all rooted in my cultural resonance with Chinese indie music.
From simply feeling the musical experience to creating my own musical experience, I became imbued by Chinese indie music.
The musical experience just happened, and I found meaning in it. I found myself.

Yo Fuck this shit Ima pull up n fuck yo bitch Leave you in a ditch You Ain’t no shit Bitches like to snitch So they get stitched up
Rolling with crew Gonna leave you in a coma Yo bros gonna be in a coffin Get noxious with goth bitch Leave her unconscious
No ain’t nobody gon fuck wit me Fuck I’m too high for this shit Man maybe she a hoe n a bitch
Gonna cap you wit ten different clips No bitches gon leave me on read When I’m like this
Too many all hoes All up on my phone No bitch Leave me alone Nobody want cho ass I’m scrap with yo Bitch ass mans
Bro you cant talk yo shit Ain’t nobody listening no mo So hear me now Ima leave you on the ground Bleedin out
Nobody here to save you now Damn yo bitch all up on my dick Ten hoes wanna be my baby mamas But ain’t gonna let ‘em Cuz I don’t nut in no b-bitch
Nothin on Nothin on Nothin on Nothin on Nothin Can stop me from beatin up the beat Spitting flames an nothin less No more sad shit Only keep the hype shit Last year was rough This year finna be volatile Last verses aren’t even the start of this season This bitch tryna hit my line Ain’t shit to talk about
Holy fuckin shit You still runnin yo mouth You finna get capped Last homie Talk shit Get capped No hoes Only bros
Last week you done fucked up Last month you done raised up Last year you weren’t nothin Now you talk shit Now fucked yo self Me and the crew gonna shoot yo ass Yo last breath is my drug Yo bitch done fucked me last week Oh I went there nobody tryna See yo bitch ass

“Understand the palm of my hand, bitch!”

Emily “Em” Davis is a 19-year-old college student described as intelligent, resourceful and persuasive. She was Jessica’s former best friend and Mike’s ex-girlfriend before Hannah and Beth’s tragic disappearance on Blackwood Mountain, where their brother Josh invites all his friends to celebrate the one-year anniversary, secretly plotting a twisted revenge “prank”. Unbeknownst to them, however, the mountain harbors something much deadlier and more sinister in the form of cannibalistic Wendigos, and the worst is yet to come as they wait until dawn (roll credits) for the rescue team to escort the survivors back home to safety.
Trivia: Her dream job is a magazine style editor, and her actress (Nichole Sakura) thinks it's fun to play the bitch.

Strength

• Pulls Matt, a jock, up from a cliff with just one hand.
• Breaks through a wall of boards with just her body.
• Knees the Stranger in the dick so hard that he loses his grip on her.
• Pulls the chain on a very old mineshaft, causing several large rocks to fall in just one yank. Can also count as a speed/agility trait since she’s being chased by a Wendigo while doing this.
• Knocks Ashley to the ground with just one slap in the face. If you listen to the scene with audio, you’ll hear Ashley crying and apologizing immediately after the fact. Damn, Emily must’ve hit her hard.

Durability

• Gets hit in the face with a radio but still holds onto a ledge for dear life.
• Cuts her leg on a piece of debris but still performs most of these feats like it’s nothing.
• Gets bit in the shoulder by a Wendigo but can still hold onto a zipline just fine.
• Can still run just fine after literally a fairly long distance off said zipline.
• [Limit; NSFW] Can die by getting her eyes gouged out by a Wendigo, falling into an ore grinder, getting shot in the eye by Mike, or being burned alive in an explosion by Sam.

Speed & Agility

• Slips off a ledge but manages to pull herself up when Matt hesitates.
• Swings herself over to a hanging ladder with a rope around her ankle.
• Successfully climbs a big rock wall without any safety gear.
• Outruns a Wendigo.
• Jumps over an ore grinder.

Marksmanship

• Headshots a Wendigo with a flare gun.

Intelligence

• Claims to have a 4.0 GPA in school.
• Is the only one who even thinks about calling the rescue team when her friends start dying off.
• Knows how to fix and use radios.

Other

• Is very determined in general. Once she has a goal in mind, she’ll get there no matter what.
• While it is rare given her overall jerkiness, she does show her soft side at times. She feels bad about what happened to Hannah and Beth, shows concern for Matt in the credits if they had a good relationship (even regretting how mean she was to him previously too), comforts Ashley after Chris’ death if they had a good relationship, and even scolds Matt for killing a deer.

Wendigo RT for scaling.