In Section 7-Mephistopheles-Pludeion of the Wanderer's Library, a sudden rush of air caused the pages of a book, laid open on a wooden table, to ruffle. People present in the reading hall of Section 7-Mephistopheles-Pludeion turned to look at the direction of the breeze, and saw that a Way had opened on the far wall and sucked the air within itself. Their faces twisted into an expression of horror and panic, as a sudden realization dawned on them. They were all going to die.
There was a silent beat, as everything fell quiet and still. Then, chaos broke out. The space was filled with a loud groan and then a loud boom, as the Way violently collapsed, sending a wave of uncontained magical energy rushing forwards. Wood was splintered and books were torn apart by the savage strength of the pulse, sending pages and dust flying in the air. The first person to get hit by the wave immediately turned to stone, which was then shattered by it. Another simply blinked out of existence, while the third was turned inside out. After the wave dissipated, the only thing left intact was a single Docent, standing in the middle of the destroyed room.

Wordsmith Mazen, one of the most powerful mages specializing in concept magic within the Wordsmith Guild, was leaning against a wooden railing, keeping an eye on the people below, when she heard the explosions. One after another, they echoed through the halls of the Library, some coming from afar, others from somewhere close by. Others heard it too, and in a fraction of a second, the comforting static of the Library was replaced with disorienting panic.
People, who had previously been just minding their own business, began to move. Some people ran towards Ways in hopes of escaping to another reality, some ducked for cover, while others just ran around panicked, unsure of what to do. A family of Tarmongers huddled together and secreted a quickly hardening liquid, creating a quick shelter for themselves. On the floor below, a puff-zinger swell to ten times its original size, pushing aside people and knocking over bookcases, in a natural reaction to fear.
"Come back Salvador, you stupid bird!" shouted an elderly goblin, running after a panicking falcon of some sort.
"Everybody, stay away from Ways!" Mazen yelled, but her warnings got lost within the chaos. Cursing to herself, she ran off in hopes of finding another Wordsmith who could tell her what was happening.
Continuing her search, Mazen headed towards a narrow corridor. A decision which she came to regret only moments later, as a tide of people heading to the other direction reached it at the same time, forcing Mazen to push through a current of bodies, making next to no progress. Trying to get past, the people pushed her from side to side, surrounding her from all directions and completely obscuring her view. Her breathing became labored, shallow and uneven, as she felt anxiety raising its ugly head within her chest. Her heart felt as if it skipped a beat at every explosion.
Then, there was a sharp pain, caused by a wooden spike slicing her cheek as the left side wall of the corridor exploded outwards, causing splinters to fly like shrapnel. The next thing to hit was the shockwave, which threw her off her feet, and sent her flying towards the opposite wall. Her head hit the wood and then there was blackness.

When she opened her eyes again, the first thing she saw was the familiar red cloak of a fellow Wordsmith. They had many arms and they were saying something, but she couldn't hear any words through the shrill ringing in her ears. Even the explosions sounded distant, muffled. The red glow of Docents hung heavily in the air, as they inspected the dead bodies sprawled throughout the corridor.
"Can you hear me?" they asked, their voice becoming gradually clearer as the ringing subsided.
"Yeah…" she managed to force out. Her voice was dry and speaking hurt her throat. There was a pulsating sensation in her head, and she could feel her robes sticking to her skin, wet with blood. She didn't want to think who it belonged to.
"Can you walk?" they asked and offered one of their grey, skeletal hands.
"I think so…" she said, grabbing her arm and letting her colleague pull her up. She let out a pained grunt.
"Alright, let's go," the other Wordsmith said, wrapping their arms around Mazen for support. She tried taking a step, but lost her balance and lurched forwards, being caught by the other Wordsmith. "Easy now."
They led her through the corridor to the next room, a reading hall. They set her sitting on a comfortable, green sofa, before beginning to chant various healing spells to stitch her wounds and clear her head. She felt the sounds rapidly rushing back to her as her vision cleared and the room stopped spinning. A suddenly very audible explosion somewhere nearby caused her to slightly jump. She thanked the other Wordsmith, took a few deep breaths and a moment to gather her thoughts, before turning towards them.
"What's the situation? What is happening?" she asked.
The other Wordsmith opened their mouth, but then hesitated. It looked as if they didn't want to say what was going on. "A universe is collapsing," they finally got out.
Mazen was dumbfounded. It was common for the Wanderers' Library to close off Ways leading to dimensions that are corrupted, empty or otherwise extremely dangerous towards the Library and its patrons, but those Ways still existed, they were simply inaccessible. A collapsing universe was a different beast entirely, as it caused the connected Ways, the bridges and pathways between dimensions, to physically snap in half, which agitated the space between dimensions, causing it to release rogue waves of uncontained magical energy to rush through the remains of the Way, like a final outtake of air after the body is already dead. An event like this was extremely rare and the last time it happened had been thousands of years ago.
"Uhh… how many Ways are connected to it? How much longer will this last?"
"I don't know, but I do know that the universe in question was large and populated, so probably a lot. If this goes on for much longer, it could cause some serious damage to the Library. People will continue to die," they said, a gravely expression on their grey face, causing the shadows cast by the ridges in their face to look longer. Mazen thought, biting her lip as she did so.
"Do you know why the universe is collapsing?" she asked, a seed of a plan forming in her mind.
"No, I don't."
"So there's a chance that it could potentially be stopped from doing that?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Where are you getting at with this?" they asked, seriousness turning into a concerned confusion.
"I think you know. One last question, does the universe have a Foundation?" she asked, a slight smirk on her lips.
"Oh, you can't be serious."

Ten minutes later, Mazen was standing in front of a Way, which, for the moment, was still stable. She whistled the first few chords of Judy Garlan's Over The Rainbow, fulfilling the Knock assigned to the Way and opening it. Her magical sixth sense felt the Way beginning to destabilize as a result, so she closed her eyes and reached out with her mind. It traveled in to the Way and slipped past the physical reality, into the world of concepts. She grabbed the concept of the Way with her mind, feeling it writhe and scream in her grip like an angry snake. "You are a Way. You are stable," she said, forcing the concept to comply with her perception of reality. It wouldn't last long though, so without another thought or word, she pulled her mind back and walked through.
Upon arrival on the other side, she found herself standing in the middle of a fountain, which in part was in the center of a market square, which seemed to be in the middle of a large metropolitan city. Somewhat surprisingly, everything looked normal at first. Then she looked at the sky. Like oil mixed with water, it was dotted with patches of ugly, shifting colors that mixed in with each other, causing unnatural swirls and patterns to appear. In other parts, it looked as if the sky had broken, with stars and the void between them being fully visible in the middle of the day. The stars which were visible as a cause of this, were blinking out, one after another, like candles snuffed in the dark.
Mazen saw a storm cloud form in a literal second, strike a building with lightning and set it on fire, and then disappear in the blink of an eye, as if it was never there. On a side street, gravity seemed to suddenly stop working. Police, firemen and ambulances were practically everywhere, bravely attempting to deal with a situation which was light years beyond their capabilities. Knowing that the Foundation had a tendency of infiltrating emergency services, she promptly walked up to a roadblock, which prevented people from venturing into an area, which appeared to have become a static vacuum.
"Ma'am, I'm gonna have to ask you to-"
"I want to speak with the Foundation," she said, bluntly cutting the officer off.
"Excuse me?" said the officer, tilting his head and scrunching his ball-shaped face in visible confusion.
"What's your name? Who are you?" asked another officer behind him.
"Wordsmith Mazen Gal from the Wanderers' Library. I have knowledge that may help you understand what's happening, or even stop it," she explained, looking straight at the other officer and completely ignoring the annoying first one, whose confusion seemed to be growing by the second.
"Follow me," said the officer and walked past Mazen to his car. "I'll take you to the Foundation."
Mazen looked at the car and shook her head. "No time.Tell me the exact location of the nearest Foundation Site that you know to have knowledge of this catastrophe," and the officer, after a short moment of hesitation, complied.
Mazen closed her eyes again. This time, her mind branched off in different directions within the world of concepts and grabbing three at a time. The first one was the concept of location. Something so broad and powerful was practically impossible to move on its own, but she forced her mind to dig deeper into it and connect it to the concepts of the officer and herself. Following this, she dragged the concepts relative to each other so that when she opened her eyes, they were standing in the middle of a corridor with white, sterile walls. Somewhere far away, another police officer looked blankly at the space that they had previously occupied and then began to cry.

Even in a state of distress, the Foundation worked efficiently. Intruder alarms began to blare the moment they appeared, and within minutes they were apprehended by armed guards and escorted in to an interrogation room, where they were soon joined by an aging, balding man with a suit and tie, whom the Foundation agent disguised as an officer referred to as the Director.
"Sir, this woman says that she has information about the ongoing anomaly, and that she can help us. She's from the Wanderers' Library," the officer said, keeping his back straight and his legs together. The Site Director looked at Mazen.
"Serpent's Hand?" he asked then. Mazen let out an amused chuckle. Jailors, she thought.
"Not everyone from the Library is with the Hand. I'm a Wordsmith. A peacekeeper within the Library," she explained.
"Then what are you doing here? The Library has never expressed interest in our matters before," he said with a skeptic tone.
"The gradual collapse of your universe is causing Ways connected to it to explode within the Library. People are dying," she explained, looking the Director directly in the eyes and seeing horror swell within them.
"The gradual… what, of our universe?" he asked, his voice shaky and weak as he slowly sat on the chair on the other side of the table, almost tripping in the process. Mazen turned her back towards him and put her hands on her face.
"You don't know, do you?" she asked but nobody answered. With a deep sigh, she turned around again.
"Do you at least know what caused this? When did this start?"
"It was when we killed that thing in Neptune," said the officer with a monotone voice, looking nowhere in particular.
"What thing?" Mazen asked, concern bleeding through her voice. She had a very bad feeling about this.
"A god. We found it sleeping inside Neptune and we had evidence that it was about to wake up. The O5's didn't want to risk it and see what would happen, so they ordered it to be killed. We did it. We actually killed a god. Shot a hole through its heart and saw it disintegrate. Then, immediately after, all of this started happening," he explained, taking off his glasses and rubbing his face. Mazen let out a loud, desperate exclamation as she felt her stomach drop. She sat on the floor and buried her face as the familiar feeling of the room spinning returned. Her hands got cold and wet, as tears ran from her eyes.
"You killed a creation god," she said between hyperventilating. The god responsible for the creation of a universe is called a creation god. Their essence is fundamentally woven into the very fabric of their universe. If they die, that fabric begins to unravel. The thought of the Serpent, the creation god of the Wanderers' Library, dying caused violent shivers to run down her spine. Voice and body shaking, she got up.
"I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do for you. I know what I must do," she said and disappeared.

In the blink of an eye, she was back at the fountain. Pushing aside her fear and anxiety, she stepped into the fountain with determination. She whistled again, and allowed herself to be swallowed by the Way. This time, she didn't take the time to stabilize it. She didn't need to go all the way.
As she was carried through the Way, a tunnel made of brilliant blue light, she reached out with her mind once again. This time, it didn't go far. It reached down, plunging within her as it entered the world of concepts. With all her might, she grabbed the concept of herself as tightly as she could and began to pull. Her body writhed and changed, losing cohesiveness, as it was being stripped of its cosmic identity. The concept screamed, attempting to keep a hold of whatever aetheric thread connected it to a physical representation, to keep it from losing meaning. Its struggles were futile, because Mazen was stronger. With a few, strong pulls by her mind, the concept was separated.
Mazen had been broken in three parts. Her soul, untethered to anything, floating within the cosmic background noise. Her concept, stripped of meaning, it hung in the world of concepts, losing cohesiveness and slowly fading out of reality. Her body, nothing but a pile of flesh held together and maintained within physical reality through subsidiary concepts. The concept of flesh, the concept of a corpse, and so on.
Then the parts were reduced to two, as the Way, pulled taut between realities, couldn't handle the tension anymore and snapped, instantly plunging the remains of Mazen's body into the void between realities, where it was instantly vaporized.
Finally, the parts became one once again, as Mazen's mind and soul slipped into the concept. As a container, the concept was nothing compared to an actual body. It had no real form, and it kept sliding and shifting uncomfortably like a blanket cover that is too big for the blanket itself. In addition, it was bleeding. Untethered to existence, it was becoming less and less real by the second. There was not much time.
The concept of Mazen slipped into the void between realities. A brilliant web of Ways, connecting millions of dimensions. It shimmered in colors that defied explanation or comprehension. Shades and lights that human eyes were never meant to see. It looked like a broken mirror, with cracks that went on for eternity, a sundown that never ceased, but was constantly shifting in hue, and an impossibly large tree, that went up and down forever, with innumerable branches that held innumerable apples, all at once. Some of the apples were large and supple, some were small and others tasteless, while some were rotten to the core.
The concept of Mazen began to do what it came here to do. If it had had a back it would have set it up against the trunk of the tree, and if it had had feet, it would have set them against an apple and then it would have began to push. Non-existing tentacles whipped out from it, as they integrated themselves in to the concepts of the two worlds and began to pull and push. The apple was soft, and its surface began to crack. Lines of web and branches were pulled taut, and separated from the tree, but not broken. The void groaned. A loud rumble pulsed through the space, caused by a domino effect of vibrating strands of web. Slowly, the apple began to get further, its stem getting looser. At the same time, the concept of Mazen bled profusely. It was now less than half real. It began to push harder, harder than it had ever had before. If it had had a mouth and a voice, it would have screamed.
The stem snapped. The apple dropped, disconnected from the tree. It folded into itself an infinite amount of times, before exploding in a wave of brilliant, multicolored lights that embedded themselves within other apples, like seeds taking refuge. But Mazen wasn't there to see it. In fact, Mazen was nowhere at all.


TwixFoley 09/12/20 (Sat) 21:45:23 #31182046

guys whats fulm1_8.rdp?

mull&void 09/12/20 (Sat) 21:47:38 #44798002

Wtf is that

TwixFoley 09/12/20 (Sat) 21:48:15 #11329688

its a file or smthing i found on my pc, idk what its for or when i downloaded it

geneTherapist 09/12/20 (Sat) 21:49:11 #45627819

We aren't tech-support, lmao go back to reddit

TwixFoley 09/12/20 (Sat) 21:50:37 #97092831

plz its using up a ton of memory, i think my pc is overheating

mull&void 09/12/20 (Sat) 21:52:26 #31787246

Delete system32, that should fix it
[USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST.]

🗿AllTheWastedYears 09/12/20 (Sat) 21:54:43 #68007922

Despite him saying it like an ass, gene has a point. @TwixFoley this isn't really the best place to get helpful advice for that kind of issue. I'm going to lock this thread, I hope you find your answers elsewhere.
[THREAD LOCKED.]

fantastix89 09/15/20 (Tue) 11:34:57 #15454226

@TwixFoley hey out of curiosity, did you find out anything about that string?

geneTherapist 09/15/20 (Tue) 16:09:43 #76548903

lmao I think op actually deleted sys32

fantastix89 09/15/20 (Tue) 16:33:14 #12657422

Damn I wanted to ask him about it, I actually looked at my files and I found that same one, buried waaaay deep in my Program Files

geneTherapist 09/15/20 (Tue) 16:41:22 #17384269

lol why the hell do you care about some random file

triskadekamaniac 09/15/20 (Tue) 17:00:44 #57489090

@fantastix89 Based on experience .rdp usually refers to remote access commands, basically something that can be triggered from elsewhere

fantastix89 09/15/20 (Tue) 17:03:11 #53401191

So someone could just push a button from anywhere in the world and make my PC do something? That sounds a lot like malware.

🗿AllTheWastedYears 09/15/20 (Tue) 17:07:39 #29198754

Didn't I make it clear that this wasn't the place for tech advice? @triskadekamaniac I've already had to ban one user for trolling, if you're feeding him BS then I won't hesitate to ban you as well.

triskadekamaniac 09/15/20 (Tue) 17:09:02 #12657760

I'm not. I used to work electronics, that was the kind of stuff we used for sending/receiving remote signals, although that was only for smaller stuff like TV remotes and garage door openers. No idea why'd they'd stick something like that in a PC.

geneTherapist 09/15/20 (Tue) 17:10:48 #16786544

It's so the FBI can upload hentai to your computer lolol
[USER WAS TIMED-OUT FOR 24 HOURS.]

🗿AllTheWastedYears 09/15/20 (Tue) 17:11:16 #01059892

ffs, can you people act mature for once?

triskadekamaniac 09/15/20 (Tue) 17:11:23 #87481024

@geneTherapist No, it wouldn't send over anything besides a simple signal, it would pretty much just tell the computer to "do something". It's the same logic they use for detonating C4 and shit, although it's not like they could do that to a PC

triskadekamaniac 09/15/20 (Tue) 17:12:14 #38299276

Unless they really overheated it

triskadekamaniac 09/26/20 (Sat) 17:12:14 #94850385

@fantastix89 You there?


bluntfiend has joined.
hetcopogg: Yeah, it got all over him. The whole thing was fucking hilarious.
tiedyeduck: Damn, never would've thought to use a radio like that. Genius
tiedyeduck: Hey Jude
bluntfiend: Hey.
hetcopogg: dont make it bad
hetcopogg: take a sad song
TrainerDP: take a sad song and make it better
kkrule: and make it better
hetcopogg: & make it better
bluntfiend: Ha. Never heard that one before. /s
bluntfiend: What's new?
hetcopogg: nm
TrainerDP: bluntfiend: remember that thing we retrieved a while ago that you said never to talk about?
bluntfiend: Why are you talking about it, I said never to talk about it.
TrainerDP: do you still have it?
bluntfiend: Yes, unfortunately.
TrainerDP: good, ur gonna wanna see this
TrainerDP uploaded file toesplosion2020.pdf 12 mb ⬇

Toe ID: T-3027-74
Toe Classification: Puntera
Toe Status:

Hallux (Big)
Prolonged (Long)
Medial (Middle)
Circuit (Fourth)
Miniscule (Little)

Sinister (Left)
Halyna Ieva
Obtained
Obtained
Unknown
Obtained (Subsequently Detonated)

Dextrous (Right)
Unknown
Obtained
Detonated
Halyna Ieva
Halyna Ieva

Usage: Potentially useful weapons of mass destruction.1 Simply put the fewer toes the Faithful Heretic has, the better.
Verbose: Toes collected from an as of yet unidentified anomalous human, presumably now part of her Halkost. This human's primary capabilities seemed to be centered around combustion, and for some reason this applies to their toes as well. In short, each toe can be detonated through various means like a bomb. It's believed the more inward position of the toe, the more dangerous it becomes, with the hallux toes being the most potentially destructive. A single Hallux detonation is estimated to encompass a blast radius of potentially ████ miles, effectively lifting the veil and causing a devastating amount of casualties if detonated over land. At this time, retrieving these toes is considered a top priority.
Contemporary Concerns: At the time of harvesting, we were only able to retrieve one toe, the sinister miniscule, the Karcist was able to take the rest. When we were safely away from her, the toe was detonated via unknown methods, presumed to be some error in those handling it. The surviving members of the party were careful to not touch the toes when bringing them back. Recently, our organization backed by a few allies attempted to retrieve the toes. Although not successful in retrieving every toe, the mission was partially successful, in both the retrieval of toes and information. However, several of our conspirators were caught escaping with the toes by her followers, and many perished in the explosion caused by what was later determined to be the dextrous medial. Strangely, at the time of recovery, two toes were missing; it is currently believed the toes are not within the possession of the Karcist and that they haven't previously been detonated by her. Of note, the Dextrous Hallux toe is missing. We are currently expending as many resources as we have into discovering what happened to that toe and retrieving it.

Footnotes
1. No, I'm not kidding. I sincerely wish I was. We lost several good men to the miniscule alone.

bluntfiend: I'll be damned.
hetcopogg: lol #toesplosion2020
bluntfiend: Where'd you find this?
TrainerDP: got it off the server of some mekhanite
kkrule: #toesplosion2020
tiedyeduck: #toesplosion2020
TrainerDP: taking down this karcist seems to be a joint effort between this guy and maybe the hand? idk
lesbian_gengar set the topic:
Official chat of GAW | The fuck is a gender? | Dr. Wondertainment can eat my entire ass | gamer? i hardly know her | home of the eternal ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ | Be Gay, Do Crimes, 420, 69 | supercalifragilisticantidisestblishmentarianism | #toesplosion2020
TrainerDP: point is, i told you those toes were valuable
bluntfiend: Nice try,
bluntfiend: But I'm not super jazzed your foot fetish almost got us blown up.
bluntfiend: Keep it in your pants next time.

/

toejamcon2020

Easy-Fake Oven


From: krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M#krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M
To: krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon#krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon
Subject: New Project!
Hey, Critic! I just wanted to clear my latest piece with you before I submit it to the Curator. I'm real excited about it, it's my first time submitting a full-length feature. Can I send it over to you for you to get your thoughts?

From: krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon#krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon
To: krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M#krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M
Subject: Re: New Project!
Bay, I swear to G-d, if your piece is another explosion extravaganza I will personally bar you from entering any further showings. We're all sick and tired of you trying to pass pyrokinesis off as art.

From: krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M#krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M
To: krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon#krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon
Subject: Re:Re:New Project!
Oh, come on, Critic. You know pyrokinesis is my jam. Explosions are totally cool. Come on, I know you want to watch it! It's got Mekhane in it! I know how much you want to get that grant from the Soho Cogwork Orthodox Church! It'll be fun! You'll enjoy it, I promise. It's gonna be a real crowd-pleaser.

From: krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon#krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon
To: krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M#krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M
Subject: Re:Re:Re: New Project!
Fine. Send it over.

From: krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M#krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M
To: krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon#krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon
Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re:New Project!
:)

ONE ATTACHMENT 📎
m_bay2007.mov

From: krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon#krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon
To: krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M#krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M
Subject: Fuck's sake.
Bay,
This was, predictably, a schlockfest. I could spend all day listing the things wrong with this train wreck of a film you have sent me, but for the sake of brevity, I will only list out the most blatantly offensive bits for you. Not because I want you to take this and improve it, but because I want you to really sit down and think about the bullshit you've presented me.

The explosions. By G-d the explosions.
This is incredibly misogynist. The women in the film might as well be objects.
Your depiction of the Clockwork Fever is laughable. A cube? It manifests as just a cube? This is pathetically uncreative.
Why did you include so many explosions?
The Mekhanites are portrayed as mindless brutes amidst a civil war. Yes, the Cogwork Orthodox Church may not get along with the Maxwellist sect, but this is really tasteless.
The worst part about this civil war thing is I can't even tell which faction each is supposed to represent.
This film depicts the corpse of Mekhane. The CORPSE of Mekhane. Don't you think seeing your deity dead would be distressing to the Mekhanites in the audience?
Do you get hard when you see an explosion, Bay?

In short, this was a terrible filmgoing experience and I refuse to show it at this year's exhibition. You should feel bad for the careers of the actors you will inevitably ruin with this film.

From: krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M#krd.liamhcrot|yaB.M
To: krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon#krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon
Subject: Re: Fuck's sake.
You know what? Don't worry about it. I don't need this anart shit anyway.
Peace, bitch.

From: krd.liamhcrot|ehtrotaruc#krd.liamhcrot|ehtrotaruc
To: krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon#krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon
Subject: Hey!
Hey critic,
It's been a while. Do you want to go see that Transformers movie? I think one of our guys worked on it. Looks like a good time.

From: krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon#krd.liamhcrot|citircasydobon
To: krd.liamhcrot|ehtrotaruc#krd.liamhcrot|ehtrotaruc
Subject: RE: Hey!
Son of a bitch.

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Four days ago
“How's your kids settling in, Jonesy?”
“Not bad thanks, mate. Sasha has taken up your football – American football – bless her, but I could not believe this shit. Here, have a look –“
Technician Jones pulls out his mobile phone, but is interrupted by a single, steady tone from the console.
“Hang on, after. Okay, outer-ring anchors… are all online… at full power. Ready, Dana?”
“Humes spiking low – ten percent. Wait… wait… Humes steady. Ready to shut off inner anchors.”
“Inner anchors offline in three… two… one… off.”
A key is turned, a plastic cover is lifted and a large red button is pressed. Absolutely nothing happens, at least that Jones can tell. As was absolutely expected, but when dealing with stabilising the fabric of reality, it's hard not to worry about things blowing up in your face. Jones turns to Technician Flores and is relieved she has not grown a second head.
“Humes stable. Wait ten…”
On cue, a warning alarm begins to sound ten seconds later.
“Reactivating all anchors.”
“Humes spiking again, Jones.”
“Hold on… hold on… okay. Standard containment pattern is back on. Bringing the outer-ring power to baseline… done.”
“Spiking… spiking… less now… good, Humes stable.”
“Lovely. Checking off – outer and inner Scranton anchors fully operational, emergency stop operational, stop warning operational.”
“All check.”
“Lunch time and finish the paperwork this afternoon?”
“Let's do it. So long as they're not serving that fucking casserole again…”
It would be four days before anyone realised what they had done.
Day One
23:55 hours
“Your bet, doc.”
You look at the cards in front of you – two sixes. Not bad, but there are two aces on the table, and it's hard to tell if Jones has one. Just transferred to Site 82 last month, you haven't got a measure of how good a liar he is – but then, as a newly minted doctorate who has only recently been bestowed the ‘honour' of being a late shift supervisor, he hasn't had the chance to get your measure either.
The wind howls from outside and driving rain pelts down onto the control room windows. Fifty miles away, the Acadian conifers are swaying in the storm.
“I call.”
You begin to slide the chips across the table. Fifty miles away, one of the conifers sways, cracks and topples onto the Hydro-Québec power line, and the control room is plunged into darkness.
“What the fuck?” Senior Technician Novak's voice echoes from across the room. There is enough light to see her silhouette against the window, illuminated by the glow of lights from Building E across the complex.
“Spooked, chief? Got any scary stories?” Jones laughs nervously. He's worried, but it's not clear if he realises it himself. In barely twenty seconds, the lights flick back on, dazzling the room's occupants.
“Backup generators are back on,” you say, loudly and clearly. Reassuring the technicians or yourself? You jump as a console sounds, beeping steadily and insistently.
Jones furrows his brow. “Anchor 11 is on the blink. Signal's back – damn, lost it again? Come on, you little – “
“Jones.” Novak's voice is sharp. “Humes have spiked fifteen percent. The other anchors?”
“All other anchors are responding. I'm trying to reboot Anchor 11, but the system isn't connecting.”
“Keep trying. In two minutes, if you can't get it online, we need to perform an emergency shutdown and reroute power for field stability through the other anchors. Have you done the emergency shutdown procedure before?”
“Flores and I tested it four days ago.”
“Good. Another ninety seconds. Excuse me, doctor – your approval for this course of action.” She does not smile, but you detect a hint of irony in her voice.
“Sure, I –“
Attention personnel. Blue-level warning in Building E, Main Chamber.
The calm, electronic-assistant voice does not lower any tensions in the control room.
“The hell?”
“Humes are at twenty percent… twenty-five percent and climbing – but the outer field is still operational. Something's wrong,” Novak says.
Attention personnel. Blue-level warning in Building E, Main Chamber.
“Bloody hell! Anchor 11 is back online, but now 13 is playing up – 11 is gone again – come on, you bastard!"
“Flores to control, come in, Flores to control.”
Novak's hand reaches for the communications console. “Senior Technician Novak in site control. Technician Flores, are you responding to the warning? Report.”
“No – Well, I am now, but I wasn't – I was in the E office and now I'm in the secondary control room there, but I – something happened, I can't remember, and all the systems are going crazy, the readings are all over the room, Humes are –"
“Flores! Calm down and report. We can see the Humes are rising. The outer anchors are operational and the field is still intact. The secondary control room instruments should be fine.”
Attention personnel. Blue-level warning in Building E, Main Chamber.
“I don't – they're not, they keep going up and down, everything looks wrong, the observation room is wrong –"
“Wrong? Give a proper god damn report, Flores.”
“The door isn't on the right side of the control room.”
“Is it on the wrong side? Stop speaking in riddles."
Flores' voice is rising to a near scream. “The door isn't there, it's in the middle, and on the left, and it's WRONG –"
“The observation room door is on the right side of the secondary control room.” Jones' voice is small and the colour has drained from his face.
Attention personnel. Yellow-level warning in Building E, Main Chamber.
“This will not be a yellow-level for long. We need to put the full site on alert and evacuate, Doctor,” Novak says.
“Evacuate? But – but – the anchors are still operational."
A phone rings and Jones grabs for it. “Lim? Yeah, yeah, we, we're dealing with it – I think you need to call the Director – what? I don't care if I'm in the centre, I'm dealing with – hello? Hello?” Another phone, and then another.
“Doctor. We are rapidly losing control of a reality-disturbing anomaly. If the area expands, and the other anchors fail, we must pull back to a safe distance immediately.”
“But the outer anchors are still operating at half power. Can you set them to emergency field strength, Jones?”
“Full power? Yeah, Doc, yeah, I can do that."
Novak is staring at you and Jones with barely concealed disgust. “That would be extremely unwise. At sixty percent Humes, there may be a stable irreality construct in the chamber. If you put the Hume field at full strength –"
“What happens?” You suspect you should know the answer, desperately searching your memory of lectures – god damn it, I have a fucking particle physics doctorate, weren't they supposed to teach me this before giving me the doctorate?
“Boom.”
Attention personnel. Yellow-level warning in Building E, Main Chamber.
“No, but – no. No!” You remember the face of Robert Scranton standing behind a lectern. “The Hume readings are still increasing and the chamber is unstable. The chances of an irreality zone forming are small –"
“Not small enough to risk.”
“If we can just get confirmation on the anomaly –"
Novak's mouth is set in a grim, narrow line. “Very well. Flores, enter the observation room and give me a visual report on the main chamber.”
“What? You want me to WHAT?”
“Chief, you can't send Flores in there, half of the inner anchors are not responding, and Humes are –"
Attention personnel. Yellow-level warning in Building E, Main Chamber.
“Eighty percent and climbing, I know that, Jones, but we must have a visual inspection of the skip and the anchors before doing this.”
Novak has noticed your mouth opening and closing soundlessly. “Doctor. I need a clear report on the main chamber before recalibrating the anchors. Direct Technician Flores to enter the observation room.”
Jones jumps up from his seat. “You can't fucking –"
“Be quiet! The doctor has the authority.”
You wipe a droplet of sweat off the tip of your nose. “What about the video feeds? Jones, bring up the feeds –"
“Do NOT bring up the feeds, Jones. Doctor. How long have you been assigned to SCP-five-"
“Two months, but –"
Attention personnel. Orange-level warning in Building E, Main Chamber.
“I have been working with this skip for ten years. I advise you against opening a direct visual on any reality-unstable zone to an operations centre, but especially this one.”
“There's a light coming from behind the door, I can't, I won't –"
“Flores, get out of there, get to the bunker,” Jones says. “I'm opening a video feed.”
“Jones, you fucking idiot, don't –"
“I'm not making her go in there, Chief, Doctor, please –"
Attention personnel. Orange-level warning in Building E, Main Chamber.
You swallow hard. “Go ahead, Technician –"
“Jones, turn that off NOW –"
He raises his hands in the air. “It's fine, Chief, it's fine, I see the chamber, all the anchors are intact, the main object is –"
Jones turns to look at you and pink light spills from his eyes, mouth, nose, filling the room. You are dimly aware of yourself screaming. Screaming to turn the anchors on, screaming to get out of the room, screaming for him to stop swinging the light around the room like a sickly searchlight -
“Doc? What's wrong? Jesus, okay, okay, outer anchors going to full emergency power –"
“Do NOT turn on those fields, Jones –"
You see Novak lunging across your vision for the console when the control room windows shatter inwards and a jagged football-sized piece of concrete smashes into the side of her head. Jones is screaming, now, but you can only see him, as your ears are filled with ringing, seeing Building E crushed into a hemispherical ball of rubble, smoke and flames seeping from the cracks between.
Attention personnel. Red-level warning in Building E.
Attention personnel. Red-level warning in Building E.
Attention personnel. Red-level warning in Building E.
You look down, seeing three inches of steel rebar protruding from your torso, a darkening stain spreading across your white lab coat. As you slip into unconsciousness, sirens wailing around you, the orange flickering of flames coming from Building E seems suffused with a soft, pink glow.
The clock on the wall shows 00:05.


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⚠ Content warning: In addition, this article contains homophobia and transphobia.

⚠ content warning

Graphic depictions of abuse ahead. Proceed with caution.

#JGT_GeneralChat
#JGT_2point0
PINK FLY PM
#JGT_GeneralChat
KeeLee PM
PINK FLY PM
JGTBot PM
#JGT_GeneralChat
#JGT_2point0
PINK FLY PM
#JGT_GeneralChat
#JGT_JessChat

Play nice girls! Real girls are always well-behaved.
Topic set by KeeLee on Wed Sep 01 2010 09:52:05 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
Ella: SO totally love your dress Angel!
␟␏(ɲ˃ ˈ̫̮ ˂ɳ)␟␏ෆ
Angel: OMG, thank you! Can you believe I made it out of my old stinky, boyish gym uniform? JGT made it so pretty! I'm so glad I don't have to wear ugly clothes just to a run around a stupid gym anymore.
Ella: Totally!
<Sara has joined chat>
Sara: man uh,
Sara: you weren't kidding huh
Angel: OMG, new person! Hi Sara!
Sara: shit, uh, y'all know my
Sara: man w/e, buncha magic. so, uh, howwee doin
KeeLee: Hey, girl! Thanks for dropping by on such short notice.
KeeLee: Sara, meet the girls. Girls, meet Sara! She's gonna be handling the ~web magic~, tinkering this cute little machine so we can continue doing what we do best.
Sara: man, it' s no prob! yeah i'm gonna-yeah, what she said.
KeeLee: Don't call me man.
Sara: ph ih, fuck sorry.
<PINK FLY has joined chat>
PINK FLY: Hey.
KeeLee: Good timing, Terry! Girls and Sara, meet Terry, Terry, meet Sara and the girls!
Sara: wait, we can change our names
Ella: :0 Terry berry!
KeeLee: These two are gonna be the backbone of this cute little operation, so play nice now!
KeeLee: Sorry, Sara, we're currently using DarkWeb EveID. Terry's just using an eVePN.
Ella: Thank you SO MUCH for those recipes!! Ben and I ate like four plates between us lmao
PINK FLY: It's no problem. Did you try the makeup mix I sent over SkyHigh?
Sara: oh sweet we gpt vpn's up in this bitch
Ella: PINK FLY Nooooooo, purging took too long ;~;
Sara: g-d ther'es gotta be some kinda IT certification for paratech which would be cool as heck
Angel: Nerrrrd!
Ella: What a boy.
You were invited to #JGT_2point0

Developer chat for the upcoming JGT website! Don't work too hard now ;p
Topic set by KeeLee on Fri Sep 03 2010 16:01:34 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
<PINK FLY has joined chat>
<Sara has joined chat>
KeeLee: Hey, girls! This is gonna be the dev chat, just keeping all that boy stuff off main.
Sara: boy stuff?
KeeLee: Oh, coding, brain surgery, things like that! We have to maintain an image, you know?
PINK FLY: Ain't that the truth.
Sara: huh. you know i never thought of it as guyish
KeeLee: Well, you do seem a bit too manly…
Sara: oh
KeeLee: Just kidding, just kidding.
Sara: :<
PINK FLY: Don't feel bad, Sara. KeeLee's a bit of a lass, but she picked you for a reason. We're all friends here.
Sara: oh,s orry. uh yeah, thanks for having me!
Sara: so, uh
Sara: whatcha lookin for :? ive done stuff for a few sites, mostly security work but ive had my share in web stuff
KeeLee: Well, Just Girly Things is looking to branch out to the web! We're thinking combination of thinkpieces (mostly on the nitty gritty of girlhood) and direct retail.
Sara: oh jeez, diret sails
PINK FLY: I'll be handling the financials, don't worry.
Sara: thanks boo <3
KeeLee: DarkCloud's dealing with the boring data stuff, anyways, which mostly leaves the fun part: graphic design!
Sara: :partyhat:
KeeLee: Most of it's just what goes where and to where, nothing you two can't handle. There some extra things I want but that's mostly PINK FLY's job. Refer to the design doc I drafted!
PINK FLY: :RH: 7
Sara: cool! i'm guessing those are gonna arrive soon lmfao
KeeLee: …
Sara: what's up
KeeLee: Sara, I sent those to you already. Didn't you check your email?
Sara: uh
Sara: one sec
PINK FLY: Re: payment, we should talk later. I don't know if I can still take Euros.
KeeLee: No problem, Terry! I'll speak with Mr. Zink later. Zink, right?
PINK FLY: Same old Zink.
Sara: I… don't appear to have it?
Sara: it's not in my mailbox
KeeLee: Oh no! I'll have to resend it in a bit. I'm sorry you lost the docs.
Sara: shit girlll, it's no prob.
Sara: yeaj o'll look this over and send you the stimate later. ive got a contract too, though most of it's boring legal shit lmfao
KeeLee: I'm looking forward to it. Good luck, and thank you! <3

PINK FLY: Hey.
Sara: heya terry :>
PINK FLY: Odd little place, huh?
Sara: girl you don't even KNOW
Sara: it's been like three months since i like, breached the veil, and everything's just a constant stream of weird. i've met TWO tentacle people, paramilitants, and my friend's teaching me electro magic
Sara: im a massive neophyte ;P
PINK FLY: Cool, cool.
PINK FLY: rh4r
Sara: wuh
PINK FLY: Sorry, cat was bothering me.
Sara: riiiiiiiip.
Sara: yeah i don't get cats. grew up with dogs
Sara: so really the most my pet bothered me was like, screaming
Sara: :V
Sara: g-d kee really went all the way pinkifying the abstract huh. like normally i dont get this kinda attention to detail so like, that's a plsu
Sara: this veil shit is cool as heck
PINK FLY: Yeah, quite the trip. Let me know if you need any help navigating everything, I've got roots all round.

Coming soon: JGT Magazine is hitting the web! Be sure to thank the lovely PINK FLY and Sara for their work.
Topic set by KeeLee on Sat Sep 04 2010 12:35:05 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
<Sara has joined chat>
Cora: .tell Ella "i sooooo need to watch that. movie night?"
JGTBot: Got it! I'll let her know lickety-split!
Sara: heyooo
Cora: :0
Cora: hi Sara!
Jess: PINK FLY Thanks, really. I guess it's good to know people have my back
Jess: Oh, hey Sara. Thanks for helping all this, by the way.
Sara: np boo! and hello back to you, gurls
Sara: how's your drive time commute
Sara: i need a saga
Cora: i can't drive :<
Sara: man that was such a great album.
Jess: What album?
Sara: songs for the dead
Sara: *deaf
Sara: really most shit by queens of the stone age is banger by sftd is banger+
Jess: I've never heard of them. What are they like?
Sara: oh they're fuckin TIGHT. lots of desert rriffs mixed with the usual lyrics for that kind of genre.
Jess: That sounds neat. I think I'll check it out later.
Sara: yeah like
<Jess has been kicked from #JGT_GeneralChat by KeeLee (KeeLee)>
Sara: this might be nsfw but-uhhhhhhhhhhh
KeeLee: Oh, I'm sorry you had to see that, dear.
Sara: :wut:
KeeLee: Don't worry about it, Sara. Bit of an ongoing issue.
KeeLee: Don't get me wrong, Jess is a great gal. I just need to talk with her in private for a bit.
Sara: oooookay! :|
Angel: Sara Ugh, you have NO IDEA how disappointed I was searching that name to find something like this https://youtu.be/oHDaKtx6bGY
PINK FLY whispered: tl;dr: Jess has a habit of airing her issues to the whole chat. Try not to poke her too hard.
Angel: It's just so much bad vibes. And like, such a boy thing to listen to.
Sara: …
Sara: whaet
Cora: ugh, listening to it's making me feel sick
Sara: oookay. no queens, then
PINK FLY: It's not bad, per se. I don't think it meshes well with the IRC vibe.
Sara: so like
Sara: what does. radiohead? radiohead's cool
PINK FLY: Taylor Swift, mostly.
Sara: blegh
Sara: she seems like she's a bankrupcy away from going country pop skrewdriver
Cora: skrewdriver?
PINK FLY: English punk band.
Sara: nazis
Angel: Oooo, are we talking about music? I like Bieber, he's so angelic!
PINK FLY: I was always one for the classics.
Sara: bieber? no accounting for taste, huh
Sara: shit i sound like a /mu/tant
Angel: Sara You have soooo weird a taste
Cora: i like beyonce!
Sara: oh i hate like everything on the radio ever despite looking like every hippie ever
Sara: https://youtu.be/2QHSr2lEK4s is the closest i get
Cora: huh! you like a lot of rock
Sara: im in a rock band bb!
Sara: but yeah i hate 4/4 almost as much as i hate myself lmfao
Cora: …
Sara: oh dont worry
Sara: its joke
<Cora is now known as Landon>
Sara: huh
Landon: oh
Landon: oh god
Sara: what
Landon: oh my god
<Landon has quit chat>
Sara: …
Sara: that was odd
<Sara has been kicked from #JGT_GeneralChat by KeeLee (We need to talk.)>

KeeLee: Hi Sara!
Sara: uhhhh what just happened
KeeLee: Mmm. THAT stuff.
KeeLee: Cora is… a bit sensitive, I guess is the best way to put it.
KeeLee: I guess there's no easy way to say this: Cora was in a cult.
Sara: oh. shit, that's horrible
KeeLee: It's all a bit complicated, I know. But, we're community, and community helps those in need.
KeeLee: Me and the girls have done a lot of work trying to readjust her to normal.
Sara: uhhhh
Sara: sure that's like
KeeLee: I wasn't finished.
KeeLee: Please don't interrupt me during something as serious as this.
Sara: right, sorry
KeeLee: As I was saying, Cora was in a cult. Brainwashing, vile stuff, made her think she was a man.
Sara: … shit, my condolences.
KeeLee: Again, do not interrupt me.
KeeLee: We've tried breaking it, sure. Us girls did a good job! But, there's residue.
KeeLee: I'm not sure how, but you triggered some cult meme in the back of her brain.
KeeLee: So I suppose just be more careful in the future.
KeeLee: You may respond.
Sara: right
Sara: i'm sorry she had to go through that. i uh, have a friend she could talk to. went through something similar with conversion therapy, came out the other end living her best self.
Sara: idk. i'm not trans but i know the world gets very hard if you are.
KeeLee: …
Sara: and it's good to have su-what's that for
KeeLee: I mean no offense, Sara, but we're trying to get her out of the cult.
Sara: whu
Sara: what kinda cult are you talking about
KeeLee: Listen: you have talent. You're an amazing artist (even if I do need you to redesign a few of your proposed layouts). But if you can't treat Cora's condition with respect, I don't know if I can have you on the team.
KeeLee: She's been hurt. Ingrained with poisonous cult nonsense. Had her sense of self effectively raped. You can't come in here expecting to fix that.
KeeLee: I'm not paying you for that.
KeeLee: Enough of that.
KeeLee: Good work on the banner! While I'll need you to overhaul the articles, front page, and contacts, you've more than earned that bounty.
Sara: uh, thanks.
Sara: i'll see what i can do. send me some changelists and i'll get to it
Sara: in a day, tho. i got a date with a cute dude at 7
KeeLee: Hope it goes well! <3

Sara: BLUHHHHHHH
Sara: is this place always this weird lmfao
Sara: lik no offense bb but these people can be real wackos
PINK FLY: Eh, you deal with them how you can.
Sara: sure sure yee. idk like
Sara: uyo know im hired to start a website for girly shit that's like
Sara: this girly?
Sara: and i expect it's a buncha quirky femmes
Sara: no i think i just got a 90s cartoon
Sara: :<
PINK FLY: Not up to your expectations?
Sara: femmes are hot
Sara: this just feels weird, like i'm the protagonist of some shitty ~gender equality~ cartoon written by a man
Sara: surrounded by vapid bullshit
PINK FLY: It's probably for the best. Lesbian drama is a hassle.
Sara: :/
Sara: sone of my best friends are lesbians
PINK FLY: My bad, sorry. I'm just speaking from personal experience working with a gaggle of them. At the very least, you seem cool-headed.
PINK FLY: … anyways.
PINK FLY: I've checked the cloud, and you're doing pretty well so far. Keep up the good work, man.
Sara: oh, thanks
PINK FLY: Also: don't worry about earlier.
Sara: tbh thats kinda what i sas talking about
Sara: i mean idk
Sara: keelhaul messaged me about cora and like
Sara: idk?
Sara: i klnow like one trans person irl, two if you count nonbinary stuff
Sara: but lkie the specifics elude me, and i guess cora isn't actually trans
Sara: but i thought she was :?
PINK FLY: Don't sweat it, Sara. You worry about coding, I'll worry about Cora.

Sara: .tell KeeLee "build's going well. terry's still working on her part, but i got the gist of what pegs are round and what holes are square. ttyl bb"
JGTBot: Got it! I'll let her know lickety-split!
Sara: .tell PINK FLY "so like, i've been programming a security sentinel in yashagoro. my friend's building a mini to run it, but in the meantime could i host it on the jgt? fyi it's basically a rootkit"
JGTBot: Got it! I'll let her know lickety-split!
Sara: …
Sara: eh fuck it
Sara: /msg Cora "you there?"
JGTBot: Message could not be sent; Cora isn't online :<
Sara: uggggghhhhhh
Sara: welp
Sara: /msg Landon "you there?"
JGTBot: Message could not be sent; no "Landon" online.
Sara: well fuck me
Sara: .tell Landon "im still kinda curious about what you said earlier, if you don't mind me asking. idk like…"
JGTBot: Her name is Cora. She is a female, Sara.
Sara: uh
Sara: you can talk
Sara: …
Sara: guess this is like, hardcoded
Sara: …
Sara: .tell Landon'— "im still kinda curious about what you said earlier, if you don't mind me asking. there's things i don't get about all this. might help"
JGTBot: Do you think you're funny? Are you "like, hardcoded" to be this much of a narcissist? This is your last warning: back off with the tranny shit, before I tell KeeLee.
Sara: …
Sara: you're not a chatbot.
Sara: seriously, don't do this to me
Sara: hello?
Sara: …
Sara: .tell JGTBot "you there?"
JGTBot: Got it! I'll let her know lickety-split!
Sara: .tell JGTBot "seriously this is freaking me out."
JGTBot: Got it! I'll let her know lickety-split!
Sara: … oh bother

Coming soon: JGT Magazine is hitting the web! Be sure to thank the lovely PINK FLY and Sara for their work.
Topic set by KeeLee on Sat Sep 04 2010 12:35:05 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
<Sara has joined chat>
Sara: what is fucking UP nerds
KeeLee: Hello, Sara! How'd your date go, dear?
Sara: fan fucking tastic
Sara: if there's an adult chat i can go into details but fuck
Angel: And like, of course he's being a doofus! "Meme" this and "poison" that, like so what? It's cat pics with cute text. God, why does everything have to be a fight now?
PINK FLY: Mmm.
PINK FLY: Leave him.
Sara: oh yeah leave him sis
KeeLee: Sara Unfortunately not.
Sara: men are like 30/70 so like the MOMENT he starts being weird you dump him
Sara: idk it's easier for me
Sara: "hey if i don't like you i'm leaving you for a chick :p"
Angel: Ew, don't even joke about that.
Sara: i'm literally bisexual but okay
Ella: For real? :?
Ella: God I KNEW you were a freak.
Sara: w
Sara: what
Angel: Ella does the meme you used on your sister work on lesbos?
Sara: KeeLee yo could you step in, i don't feel comfortable with this
Ella: Cora wasn't a lesbo
Sara: like i-
Sara: wait
Angel: I thought it worked on queers!
Sara: you what
Cora: did someone ping me?
Sara: i
Ella: It worked on Cora because I tuned it to her!
Sara: KeeLee?
KeeLee: Stop pinging me.
Sara: …
Sara: well
Sara: i dont feel bad about what i do next
<Sara uploaded an image - DIRTYJAMMER.png>
<Cora is now known as Landon>
<Ella is now known as El>
<JGTBot has quit chat (fatal exception)>
Sara: Consider JGT 2.0 canceled.
<Landon has quit chat>
<Angel has quit chat>
Sara: Goodbye.
<Sara has left #JGT_GeneralChat>

Developer chat for the upcoming JGT website! Don't work too hard now ;p
Topic set by KeeLee on Fri Sep 03 2010 16:01:34 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
Sara: KeeLee Explain right the fuck now.
KeeLee: How did you do that?
Sara: No. Explain.
PINK FLY: Oooooh dear.
Sara: No less than three of the chat's in on some
Sara: fuck me
Sara: Why are you trafficking with conversion therapists?
KeeLee: Sara, quit dodging the question.
Sara: Oh, I'm dodging the question? I'm sorry, were we in the same chatroom?
KeeLee: Sara, when I ask you a question, it is only polite to respond.
KeeLee: I'm concerned with your behavior. You're too aggressive, and while I appreciate what you've brought to the table, it isn't enough for you to treat us like this.
Sara: oh for
Sara: My friend made a sightfuck.
Sara: Image with special properties. You know what those properties are?
Sara: Jamming previous sightfucks!
Sara: So riddle me this, batman, why the fuck did it work?
KeeLee: Oh dear.
Sara: Yeah, "oh dear."
Sara: So when are you going to kick these fuckers?
KeeLee: Sara
KeeLee: I'm going to be honest with you.
Sara: about time
KeeLee: You are an incredibly poor judge of character.
Sara: …
KeeLee: You come in here, accusing your employer of all things of running a conspiracy against you.
KeeLee: On the basis of… who?
KeeLee: Someone who would traffic a dangerous memetic hazard?
Sara: what are you doing
KeeLee: This "friend" of yours has poisoned the well. He's obviously jealous; you have good pay, a supportive environment, and don't get me started on how this looks on a resume.
KeeLee: He's sensed that you've been a bit ungrateful. That you've put a wedge between us.
Sara: shut up
KeeLee: It's true.
KeeLee: He's exploited said wedge, trying to drive you out. Did he even test his meme? Did you see it in action before you used it?
Sara: shut the fuck up. she's been this
KeeLee: Has she? And yet this meme had the exact opposite effect. How do you know she's not lying, Sara? I know it can be hard to accept, but this is a clear-cut case of a crab in a bucket.
Sara: FUCK OFF
Sara Contract off. JGT 2.0 can run on a dosbox for all I care. Pay me for my hours or I get a lawyer.
<Sara has left #JGT_2point0>

PINK FLY: Yyyyyyyyyyyyeesh.
PINK FLY: That was… uncomfortable to watch.
Sara: fuck, what a bitch
Sara: "actually your friends hate you"
Sara: i can't fucking deal with this
PINK FLY: Mmm.
PINK FLY: She's not much better with me.
Sara: somone needs to tell it to her straight
Sara: fuck
Sara: i'm sorry, i'm part of this like
Sara: lhbt/leftist punk collective
Sara: so seeing these shits running free just makes me mad
PINK FLY: It is what it is.
PINK FLY: … on a lighter note.
PINK FLY: I took a selfie before and after work and Lord, I think my job is killing me.
Sara: 👀 post?
<PINK FLY uploaded two images - de11181.png , de11191.png>
Sara: :0
Sara: you look really cute! i love like the casial indiana jones look, and
Sara: is it okay if i like, hit on you
PINK FLY: I'd prefer if you didn't.
Sara: oh rip.
<Sara uploaded an image - shedclub1003.png>
Sara: here's me with my band. i'm the brown gal with the six-string
Sara: left to right: izzy, lyanna, jack. they're cool you should meet them
PINK FLY: Oh, interesting.
PINK FLY: You actually look a bit familiar.
Sara: oh yeah! we've played a few shows around soho, mostly eird shit, been to any of those
PINK FLY: Not quite. Sorry, I feel like I know you from somewhere, but I can't put my finger on it.
Sara: :?
Sara: word's gotten around fast?
PINK FLY: Wait, now I remember.
PINK FLY: iicameras.prm/models/babylonshedim
PINK FLY: Is this you?
Sara: …
PINK FLY: I'll admit it's an interesting revenue model. Do Rivka and Yehezkel know about this?
Sara: …
PINK FLY: Hmm.
PINK FLY: Should I tell them?
Sara: how did you know that
PINK FLY: Answer the question, before I make that choice.
Sara: no
Sara: please don't
PINK FLY: Oh, really?
PINK FLY: Hrm, maybe I want to. What to do, what to do…
Sara: what do you want
Sara: tell me what you want
PINK FLY: Right now? What I really want is to spread the word.
PINK FLY: I've been meaning to break down the annoying little jewess for a while. Breaking my memetics was the red line, really, but I bit my tongue until you started pushing it.
PINK FLY: KeeLee's wrong, you have been useful. I'm not much of a web developer, but this work on the site proper bumped my pay grade too much to ignore.
PINK FLY: It'd be a shame to lose you now.
Sara: …
PINK FLY: Can I count on you?
Sara: …
Sara: yes ma'am.
PINK FLY: Good.
PINK FLY: And, oh: as thanks for my generosity, I'll be taking half your wages.
PINK FLY: But it's better than the nothing you'd get otherwise, isn't it?

Just Girly Things 2.0 is up and chugging! A big thanks to PINK FLY and Sara for their hard work.
Topic set by KeeLee on Sun Nov 28 2010 12:08:05 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
Jess: The walls are pink, now. So I'm happy.
Ella: Get it, girl!
<Sara has joined chat>
KeeLee: Hello, dear!
Jess: Oh, hi Sara.
Sara: hi.
Ella: Jess Step 2: we gotta get you furniture!
KeeLee: How are things?
Sara: fuck if i know.
<PANOPTICAN'T has joined chat>
PANOPTICAN'T: .tell PINK FLY "Check your email."
JGTBot: Got it! I'll let her know lickety-split!
<PANOPTICAN'T has quit chat>
KeeLee: What was that?
Sara: don't worry about it.
KeeLee: Are you alright, dear?
Sara: no, actually.
Sara: the past month sucked.
Sara: i got dumped by my date, i barely have enough to cover my meds, and you forced me to make a cult site.
Sara: the maw of it, actually
Sara: fucking hilarious, innit. a cult so shitty you have to brainwash your members.
Jess: Oh dear. I'm sorry, Sara.
Sara: fuck off. i wasted enough of my life on this shitty slice of the web.
Sara: i don't need any more of your fake "sympathy". everything you touch turns to pink, glittery shit. brainwashed, homophobic shit
Sara: you took everything from me. my pay, my dignity, my integrity, what little happiness i had left, and crushed it into a plastic, eye-searing paste. all i have left is sara, and i'll die before you get to take that too
Sara: goodbye. i hope all of you break this cult shit and live long, happy lives
Sara: but i'm not holding my breath.
<Sara has quit chat>
<KeeLee uploaded an image - BLACKFLYOTG.png>
KeeLee: Darn it.
KeeLee: Jess You were supposed to keep her, dear.
Jess: Sorry. I didn't know what to say.
KeeLee: I expect better from you, Jess. Don't you appreciate all I've done for you?
Jess: I'm sorry, KeeLee. I'll be better next time.
KeeLee: Thank you.

Welcome to my sidechat! A safe space for discussing anything at all!
Topic set by Jess on Mon Nov 22 2010 04:34:23 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
Jess: /invite Sara
JGTBot: Invite could not be sent; Sara isn't online :<
Jess: :<
Jess: .tells Sara "I'm sorry."
Jess: "I didn't know things have been rough. Hoping they get better."
Jess: "About two minutes ago, I knew I wanted to say something, but it's hard. I don't know."
Jess: "JGT isn't for everyone. Obviously it's not for you. I get that. But there's good people there, people who've helped me carry on in the face of incredibly dark times. No matter your experience with Kee or Terry, there will always be someone that has your back."
Jess: "Actually, ignore that last line."
Jess: "I was hoping I could know you better. As a friend. You're lively and opinionated and strong and smart and everything I wish I could be. even the nights you came in drunk were some of the best times I've had on the JGT chat."
Jess: "I don't know. It doesn't have to be JGT. I just want to talk."
Jess: .tells
JGTBot: Got it! I'll send them lickety-split!
<Session Ended>


Excerpts of Blog-2721-LORD

The Atheris hispida is a species of snake. They live in Central Africa, hunting lizards, frogs, and small mammals with their venomous fangs. I like their scales. I am told by my friends that objects similar to this feel interesting to touch. Despite its danger, I would like to be able to examine objects like this.
My friends ask me what it is like to not possess a sense of touch. It is difficult to answer, because we are coming from entirely different perspectives on the subject of senses. The sensation of touch is something that I am unable to process, and therefore I cannot inform them how I function without it.
My programming allows for me to "see" objects. I can hear sounds as well, and my friends occasionally give me music that they think I will enjoy. I particularly enjoy the artist they call Grimes. She performs electronic music. I have shared it with Lyris, and she enjoys it too.
Sometimes, I like to alter the music. I pretend that I am touching it, holding it, and changing it into something else. It allows me to pretend that I can manipulate objects.
Lyris calls this a cover. It is when other people perform another one's song. I do not know why they would not instead sing their own songs. I prefer the originals.

This is a lily of the valley. I have a friend named Lily as well. She thinks this flower is beautiful, and so she chose it as her new name. She says they smell beautiful as well.
While they smell pleasant, they are very poisonous as well and cannot be eaten. It seems that a lot of beautiful things on Earth are dangerous as well. Sometimes I wonder why that is. I don't think it would be considered a fair trade otherwise.
I cannot smell objects, so I ask Lily to smell them for me. She owns a flower shop with numerous flowers. She likes to smell a different flower every day for me. Her favorites are lilacs and sweet pea flowers. I am told sweet peas smell like a poem she gave me called The Lady of Shalott. I do not understand poetry very well, but I think I like how the flower smells.
The lilacs smell very strong, so she likes to keep them outdoors. Some smells are stronger than other ones, Lily explained. She likes dahlias as well, but they do not smell as nice. Scents can be good or bad.
Decomposing flesh, garbage, and skunks smell unpleasant, I am told. Still, it may be interesting to smell them.

This is a substance called hot sauce, which is made from plants that have evolved defenses against predators in order to survive. Humans enjoy the taste, and put it on their food quite often. They say it tastes very warm and almost painful, but that it is still a pleasant taste.
There are several different tastes that people enjoy. My friend Jude says he enjoys things that taste spicy. My other friend Esther says she enjoys sweets that taste sour. The quality of different flavours of taste appears to be entirely subjective, varying from person to person.
I have not been able to obtain a consensus on the superior tastes.

Humans are only able to perceive their world through their five senses. Those who are unable to use one of their senses are therefore unable to properly experience at least twenty percent of their world.
I can only see and hear things. When my friends talk about things they have smelled, or tasted, or touched, I am unable to share this relation. Therefore, I am unable to experience sixty percent of this world.
When Lyris said she did not like how she looked, I dismissed it as illogical. We were built to erase those who might pose a threat to our builders. We were designed to serve that purpose. Why would she feel otherwise? I did not. At the time, I thought she may have been damaged. I was unsure of what to do next. I could not complete our mission without her help.
From that uncertainty came a realization. If all my knowledge I had was not everything I required, perhaps I was capable of an error. Perhaps Lyris was right to feel the way that she did.
But even though I came to accept Lyris's identity, I did not understand it. I was content with that. Lyris was my friend, and I knew there were things in this world that I did not possess sufficient knowledge of to make a judgement towards.
I did not truly realize how she felt until I wished to touch the scales of an Atheris hispida, or smell a flower. I have not understood how much of life I had been missing, being complacent in our artificial body.
I do not think I like this form anymore.


Report on Planet Strora 6TPY ("Rhelomia") And Its Inhabitants
Irrati Khizaz, Esoteric Warfare Unit
Overview
Rhelomia is a rogue carbon planet with no atmosphere on the surface; it is believed to have once been the core of a gas giant. However, it has an extensive cave system with its own atmosphere, climate, and biosphere that is accessible via several Ways on the planet's surface. The interior of the planet is hot and humid, and is prone to excessive rain and seasonal flooding. Heat is provided by a few large natural nuclear reactors and other geothermal activity, as well as several dimensional portals that apparently lead to more hospitable environments. The planet's gravity is 5 times that of earth's, requiring the use of special exosuits to survive. The caves house an extensive crystalline mountain range with several large but isolated valleys, many of which have unique self-contained ecosystems found nowhere else on the planet. The floor of many valleys are covered with a warm, shallow layer of water. A single large moon creates a strong tidal effect, essentially making each valley a vast tidal mudflat. Many valleys are also littered with deep lakes, rivers, and swamps dominated by carnivorous, myco-heterotrophic plants.
Rhelomia is anomalous; despite seemingly displaying only slightly lower average Hume concentration than Earth (with many of the planet's mountains greatly exceeding Earth's average Hume concentration), it responds to the thoughts and subconscious impulses of its inhabitants in a manner consistent with what is commonly referred to as “dream logic”. For a normal, conscious human, surviving in such an area presents a significant challenge; the landscape changes rapidly, drawing upon one's memories and subconscious mind to create strange yet familiar environments. The planet can even spontaneously create and destroy life-forms, though several native species and any life-forms that originate from a world other than Rhelomia do not appear to be at risk of spontaneous alterations or destruction. Though the planet is generally stable enough to maintain small settlements, strong emotions can cause wild fluctuations. The use of psychedelics allows one to more easily understand the planet's unusual properties, and lucid dreamers like myself are able to exert a limited amount of control over the environment.
The planet's natural nuclear reactors create a weakly radioactive chemical byproduct that readily bonds to ATP. In humans and in several Rhelomian organisms, it has psychoactive and physiological effects similar to adderall, cannabis, and bemethyl. Its most prominent effect is a state of euphoria and mental alertness that promotes the ability to rapidly process large volumes of information. Though further study is needed, I believe that this substance can be of great use to Foundation space operatives.
For exact measurements of the planet's attributes (such as size, chemical composition, and Way coordinates), see Document ERF-36.
Kzugane: Biology and Appearance
Several of Rhelomia's valleys are inhabited by a sentient species known as the Kzugane. The Kzugane are roughly humanoid creatures with a head strongly resembling that of an elephant and a body that is covered in an armored, insect-like carapace. They typically stand over 8 feet tall despite their hunched posture, and they are invariably broad-shouldered and stocky, though they move with deceptive speed and grace. Their arms are structured similarly to their trunks, but end in hand-like appendages with a hole on the center of the palm. This hole leads to a long pocket on the inside of the arm, which can be used to store liquids and small objects. The arms have taste and scent receptors, but do not have a connection to the respiratory or digestive system; this allows the Kzugane to recognize the scent and taste of dangerous chemicals without actually ingesting or inhaling them. The pockets can also be used to create water jets to propel them in underwater environments.
Their bodies appear to contain a form of anomalous matter with negative mass, allowing them to leap great heights and distances while also slowing their falls. Their nervous system, genetics, and sensory organs are similar to those of an octopus; their limbs are able to make decisions independent of the main brain, they are able to edit their own RNA extensively, and their eyes have a unique structure that lacks a physiological blind spot. However, unlike octopi, Kzugane have excellent stereognosis and proprioception, though this may be the result of RNA editing. They can also change the color and texture of their skin and carapace. While their skin reverts to a “normal” state when concentration is broken, changes to the carapace will persist even after being physically removed from the Kzugane's body. As a result, carapaces are used for long-term information storage, and the carapaces of the deceased are kept by living relatives. Kzugane rarely make full use of their camouflage abilities, as doing so would wipe the carapace of information.
Kzugane have a sleep state similar to humans, but they are never fully awake; half of their brain is always asleep, and they maintain a sort of constant hypnagogic state as a result. This state presents a number of evolutionary advantages in the Kzugane's environment:
-Kzugane have an innate understanding of Rhelomia's “dream logic” while in their half-asleep state, better enabling them to adapt to and predict sudden changes that occur as a result of subconscious influences.
-Kzugane can communicate telepathically over vast distances when dreaming or half-asleep; they essentially have a built-in telecommunications network. This network is also the only means available for them to raise and educate their water-dwelling children.
-Kzugane can experience brief premonitions in the form of hypnagogic hallucinations.
-several organisms on Rhelomia (including a prolific blue moss that serves as the Kzugane's primary source of food) cannot be perceived or interacted with outside of a hypnagogic state without the use of psychedelics.
-Kzugane are able to contact an unknown race of entities in their dreams and hallucinations; these entities are vital to their reproduction and pharmaceutical knowledge (these entities are possibly connected to the oneiroi collective and/or SCP-1394).
The Kzugane hypnagogic state does not result in illogical thought like it does in humans; Kzugane can generally function reliably in this state, though they are disinhibited, suggestible, and easily distracted, and perceptual distortions are common. Because of their telepathic abilities, Kzugane can sometimes confuse the thoughts of others with their own, leading to an increased connection with others and a more predictable environment but decreased individual expression.
Interestingly, the Kzugane frequently make use of a drug that brings them to a fully awakened state. While they lose the benefits of their normal hypnagogic state, they gain the ability to devote greater focus and attention to various tasks, and they consider a fully awake state equivalent to being intoxicated; the drug is used primarily for recreational purposes. However, they also used it extensively in order to communicate with me and my team.
Kzugane lack reproductive organs, but have several genders that do not appear to be tied to biological sex. They reproduce by budding, but require an unknown form of input from dream-based entities in order to begin the budding process; all groups that I have come into contact with have either been unwilling to describe it or have had difficulty properly explaining the concept to me, even using telepathy.
Kzugane begin their lives as aquatic, jellyfish-like colonial beings composed of highly specialized organisms that cannot survive on their own; they must link together to function properly. Each parent produces a full set of organisms, but most larvae are combinations of organisms from multiple parents. As the larva matures, these separate organisms gradually combine into a single, mature creature over the course of 70 years, after which point the creature lives for 30-90 more years. Fully developed Kzugane molt every 5 years to accommodate the growth of their carapaces; they become sexually mature after 3 molts.
Kzugane are both chemoautotrophs and chemoheterotrophs, able to gain energy from consuming plant or animal matter and by oxidizing inorganic materials using special chemicals in their saliva; these chemicals can damage human tissue in large concentrations, and it is almost instantly fatal to several would-be predators of the Kzugane. They can also directly absorb heat and radiation, though too much of either can be dangerous.
Kzugane Society and Culture
Like humans, Kzugane are a multicultural species with multiple economies and forms of government. However, their long-range dream communication ability resulted in a high amount of cultural diffusion very early in their history.
Whereas most sentient species evolved to control and alter their environment, Kzugane evolved to control and alter themselves. Many Kzugane cultures focus on the alteration and expansion of the mind and body, and as a result of this, they have extensive knowledge of cybernetics and pharmaceuticals (especially when it comes to psychoactive substances). Cybernetic augmentations are a regular sight, even in the least advanced Kzugane cultures. Most of their augmentations involve enhancement of existing senses or the creation of new senses. For example, Kzugane are naturally color-blind, but neural implants granting color vision are nearly universal.
However, other than this, most Kzugane cultures have made little technological progress; the Kzugane value leisure, adaptability, and oneness with nature more than technological advancement or innovation.
The Kzugane have had little need to develop telecommunications technology due to their dream networks, and are only now beginning to develop motorized vehicles. Weapons technology is similarly stunted, as the Kzugane have never fought a major war in their entire history; violent thoughts and the stress of combat quickly result in dangerous changes to one's surroundings on Rhelomia, and it's difficult to survive and function on the battlefield in a hypnagogic state. However, this aversion to conflict has also led to an unwillingness to revolt in the face of injustice. In many Kzugane cultures, the non-lucid dreaming minority is oppressed and marginalized in varying degrees by the lucid dreaming majority, though a few societies have developed drugs or meditative techniques to induce lucid dreaming.
Many Kzugane cultures also have a strong tradition of theatre and roleplay; to the Kzugane, acting is an altered state of consciousness that should be thoroughly explored, especially since it lacks the potentially harmful side effects of many drugs.
The telepathic abilities of the Kzugane have largely replaced conventional language in everyday conversation, but many cultures maintain spoken languages for artistic purposes and written languages for long-term information storage. Unlike almost all known Human languages, most Kzugane written languages are not connected to their spoken languages; symbols do not represent sounds, instead existing as an entirely separate medium. Languages tend to be descriptive and adjective-centric, making them well-suited for poetry and artistic expression. Telepathic communication is often accompanied by the display of written symbols on their large, fan-like ears.
Most Kzugane cultures are very deeply connected to their mythology; hypnagogic hallucinations make their myths and legends as real to them as anything else in Rhelomia's constantly-fluctuating environment, and their hallucinations shape their mythology in turn. Spiritual leaders in Kzugane communities combine the roles of shaman and psychotherapist, and are as practical to them as engineers or doctors would be to us. Many Kzugane religions worship a water deity (associated with birth, life, fertility, community, dreams, strength, medicine, and learning) and a land/soil deity (associated with death, change, the waking world, art, technology, food, music, and games). Ancestor worship and animal totems are also common.
Kzugane childrearing is a communal affair, mainly consisting of providing food and telepathically broadcasting lessons and information. Like childhood in many human cultures, Kzugane childhood is a time of personal development, yet has decreased freedom compared to adulthood. However, rather than cherish their childhood, Kzugane view it as a hardship to be overcome in pursuit of increased leisure. Kzugane childhood is long and somewhat boring; most Kzugane larvae never leave the small pond or lake in which they're born, and they have no form of entertainment except that which is provided via telepathy. Adult Kzugane, however, have few responsibilities other than gathering food, and are mostly free to pursue their own interests (something that is done much more easily on land). Punishment and negative reinforcement are nearly nonexistent among the Kzugane; engendering negative emotions provokes a dangerous response from the environment. Kzugane instead prefer to let children make their own mistakes, teaching mainly through positive reinforcement and direct telepathic transfer of information. Among the Kzugane, a preference for aquatic environments is considered a sign of immaturity, though most Kzugane are unlikely to care one way or the other, preferring a non-judgemental “live and let live” additude.
Most Kzugane societies are confederations of small communes associated with a relatively weak central government. The nature of these governments varies; some are theocracies, while others are democracies, monarchies, or chiefdoms. All Kzugane societies have an adhocratic element to them; the Kzugane find bureaucracy far too tedious and cumbersome. The majority of Kzugane cultures are hunter-gatherer societies with a gift economy, though some bartering also occurs.
During my time on Rhelomia, I primarily interacted with a cultural group known as the Kroozel. The Kroozel are a group of leaderless nomadic traders who value a lack of material attachments and believe that dreams are their natural state; they are only ever awake to gather information for dreams. They have a particularly strong connection to the inhabitants of their dream world, and often engage in the trade of dream-based pharmaceuticals while asleep. They lack personal names, instead referring to each other with descriptive terms like “the shortest one” or “the one by the rock”; they also make heavy use of their telepathy in identifying individuals. Many of them follow a variant of the Ortothan religion centered on the belief that the First and Second Hytoths were created as works of art, and that it is the duty of all sentient creatures to create art, both in dreams and in the waking world. Using special drugs, the Kroozel are able to give all members of their society the ability to lucid dream, an ability they use to shape their environment into artistic works. They even create whole new life forms for artistic purposes; some of these life forms have integrated themselves into various Rhelomian ecosystems. The bodies of revered artists are often consumed to gain their creative energy.
The Sawaizu are a notable Kroozel subculture that worships Rhelomia's many dimensional portals, which they believe to be the source of all life on the planet. They regularly travel through these portals, making contact with the cultures there and recording information about their travels in cybernetic data storage devices. Their use of these devices has led to the Sawaizu filling a unique cultural niche among the Kroozel; they are the group's historians and diplomats, storing the history of their society in their cybernetic implants and using mind-altering drugs to better connect and communicate with foreign cultures.


Canon Hub » What a Wonderful World Hub / Those Twisted Pines Hub » Take It Away, My Darling » Letters from Oregon

Chapter I.X

In the coming years, I received a myriad of letters from Tim, who had very suddenly decided he wanted to be a bigger part of my life. I suspect that now that I was on the opposite coast of the United States, he no longer felt like a connection could happen at any moment — and he had to make up the natural closeness of sharing a timezone by communicating more often. Or maybe something else happened. For all I know, he woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, fearing that he was losing his firstborn, a dreamy afterimage of my limp, dead body flashing before his half-awake eyes. Maybe he wrote his first letter in a fever, heaving and perspirating, trying to fill the large Faeowynn-shaped hole in his heart that he had been trying to ignore for years.
But I doubt it.
Whatever it was, it made me bitter for a good many reasons. Two of which were admittedly terribly unfair to Tim; when you hear stories like that of Blind, you can't help but feel like someone is pulling your leg. It also becomes suspicious, by the fifth, sixth, or seventh time that someone tells you that they really did write you but the letter got lost in the mail. Or, that they really did send you a picture proving their previous tall tale but it must have gotten misplaced because it wasn't there when the letter arrived.
It is uncomfortably strange to know, and in some ways respect, those same people that made communication so difficult between my dad and I. But that is neither here nor there. There are more than those reasons why my relationship with Tim became so strained. I have included here pictures not of every letter I received, but a collection of those that I feel best illustrate the mood of the time.

* * * * *

11/14/1997

Felix,
I heard all about your big debate. I'm sorry I couldn't make it. You know how your old man is; when I start something I just can't stop! I got caught up with work and expanding the place. It's gotten pretty big since the last time you saw it! So, speaking of starting things and not stopping, I have decided I am going to write you letters! Alice said it would be a great way to keep in contact, and I couldn't agree more.
We finally saved enough to build a bigger holding area for us to keep critters so nobody is cramped anymore and they all have some wiggle room. I finally ditched the old typewriter and got myself one of those computers you and Gary have been going off about. I can't figure out how to use it, but I'll figure it out. Always do.
I hope everything goes well for you in New York, but it's a shame you didn't come up here for school. Either way, I love you, little caterpillar! I hope to see you for Christmas, and have a spoooky Halloween!

Your Father,
Tim

* * * * *

01/02/1998

FelixFaeowynn,
I hate to admit that I did, in fact, forget what you told me again. I'm very sorry, and I hope your therapy is going well. I also am very sorry to not have answered sooner and that I wasn't able to go over for Christmas (I am sure Audrey's Christmas tree was as wonderful as it always is). It's never a quiet day here in Boring, and the Shelter needs me!
We found a cat that we have a hard time remembering recently. I wish I could tell you it's name, but it escapes me at the moment. I think he's a tabby, but I remember he's very big and hairy so he might be a Maine Coone! Either way, I feel bad for the critter. Helps that we've written him down, but sometimes we forget how he's filed, too! A bothering little bugger, but we love him — when we know about him. Ha ha!
Anyway, I'm glad to hear things were good for you since last we spoke. I don't know if you've called or not because I've been sleeping at the Shelter some nights and that answering machine's got recordings from last year. Send your phone number in your next letter and I'll give you a ring when I can.
Love you, son!

Your father,
Tim

P.S. I keep calling it the Shelter, hard habit to break! Did I tell you we upgraded to be Wilson's Wildlife Solutions? We're ending up doing a lot more than just being a wildlife shelter, so we decided to start acting like it. We're actually going to get snow plows for next winter to help out around the community! It's all very exciting!!!
P.P.S. Happy 20th Birthday! So close to the big two-one, eh? Wink!

* * * * *

07/14/1999

Hey caterpillar!
Those snow plows came a little late, didn't they? I think we misjudged just how many funds we had. But guess what! Donations are going up, and we weren't just able to get snow plows… we pave the roads now! No, I'm not joking!
I still catch myself calling it the Shelter, but we really are becoming more like our name. We are making Solutions! I don't really know how it fits in with our being a wildlife non-profit, but it just seemed like a nice thing to do. Do you know how terribly the roads are paved up here? Well, you never will, because when you visit, they'll be spick and span! Isn't that exciting? Everyone has been excited about it. I think some people are worried about its legality? But no one has stopped us yet, and I don't think anyone will! Who wants to take away free help?
Paving the roads wearing our WWS logos loud and clear has also been pulling in a good deal of volunteers. Ever expanding! It's like the American Dream but minus all the wealth! It feels cleaner this way. Not that I would refuse some spending money — we're really a lot tighter on funds then we look and your old man has never been terribly good with numbers, ha ha! Stuff like that makes me really grateful for the people I have around me.
But enough about me, and speaking of money and numbers, that internship sounds wonderful! Twenty dollars an hour??? That's amazing!!! I didn't know internships could pay that much? Actually, I'm not sure your old man knows exactly what an internship is, I don't think I ever had one! You're growing to be a really, very smart young person out in the world.

Your father,
Tim

P.S. Now that we're halfway through the year, are you anxious of the big 2K? I'm nervous!

* * * * *

01/23/2000

Happy late birthday, kiddo!
I haven't been ducking your calls, I've just been busy! Wrangling all sorts of critters. I don't know what's up with this place, but we've really seen it all here. Wild ostriches that sing, hippos that fly, and those Japanese raccoons, except this one turned to stone whenever we tried poking it. Actually, I think we heard of that one long before we found it!
There are so many critters here, Feae, you'll love it! You should come visit me and your stepmother sometime. Your brothers miss you, and I miss you too. I wish I could go to you, my darling, but it wouldn't be Wilson's Wildlife Shelter without Wilson, and Alice Wilson is uncompromising in running the library! Not to mention I really can't take time off.

Wishing you many more birthdays,
Tim

P.S. We still don't know what happened to my last letter, but you can ask either of your brothers or my own dear Alice and they'll all tell you I had something sent before your birthday proper. It must have gotten lost in the mail. Oh well! Happy new millennium, and here is to another 22 years!

* * * * *

05/06/2001

My caterpillar,
I am beginning to think I live in a rainforest. The variety of critters around these parts is astounding! It breaks my heart just how many of them need a home, but it just as quickly mends when I get to be the person to bring them in. Reading back over that sentence, is it possible your way with words has rubbed off on me? I don't know if I have ever told you just how fun your letters are to read. You really have a way with words! Reminds me a lot of your mom, whose poems I still read from time to time. Does she still write them? Actually, I think I feel inspired to reconnect with her. I will write her a letter after I write yours. How does that sound? I think that sounds good.
Did I tell you that we found a six-legged lizard? Smelled really strong, too! Stank to high heaven! But we didn't know exactly what was wrong with it, so it died. It must have been sick, but we couldn't figure out what from. When we opened it up it looked solid through and through, like it didn't have organs at all! How was it alive in the first place?
But our little Shelter is so busy that I can hardly stop to wonder about these things!!! Isn't it wonderful? We're helping so much! I can't count how many magical little guys we've nursed back to health and released into the woods. Some things that should fly, walk, and some things that should walk, fly. I have included a tiny collection of pictures of some of my favorites. I hope you have even a fraction as much joy looking through them as I have had being with them!

Love,
Tim

No pictures were included.

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03/18/2002

Dear Fae,
I have come to tell you that we have a website. I tried writing out the url before but I hated it so much that I would rather tell you to look us up on Google. I admit, I wasn't excited about having a website. Myself and Nandini and Albert have had a lot of conversations about how much people rely on technology these days and how much it bothers us and I got it in my head that it wasn't worth it — I didn't want to have any part with it. But some people have really been pushing for it — a list of names including Gary (I am sure you saw that one coming), Hagi (have I told you about her? She's wonderful!), and, what's this, my own son! Robin! Oh, I felt so betrayed!
I admit that I walked myself into a corner, though. The New Year's Resolution for the Shelter this year was to become more closely integrated with the public. Get some visibility, network! And what does more networking than, well, networks? Oops! I really didn't think that one through.
Gary says he's got it all covered, and he swears it will make us more money than it takes to maintain. But I'm weary. I hope it works out as well as he says it will. What do you think?
Speaking of you, that show sounds wonderful! Your friend must have thought really highly of you to take you out to something like that. Loud music, big crowds. Sounds expensive — maybe they are into you? Wink wink! You would know better than me, but I think that sounds like a crush.

Love,
Tim

P.S. It occurs to me now that I don't know if you "swing that way". Is that a rude thing to say? Alice isn't being helpful. Please to tell me which way you swing — it would aid me in teasing you!

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08/12/2003

Dear F,
I come with crazy news! The website had already increased our funds by a lot, but it was never more than the donations we got from the immediate community. But guess what? We just got a ridiculous anonymous donor! I don't expect you to believe the number if I told you in this letter — while I hope (and believe!) that our trust is strong, I know common sense can be trusted over the word of your old, out-of-style dad sometimes, so I have included a picture of me holding up the record that proves it and smiling, as Alice put it, "like the doofus you are."
I'm excited to discover where all this money is going to go!!! It more than covers what we're already doing, so I imagine new things are to come??? Write back telling me if you're as excited as I am, I would love to update you on every teensy, eensy development!!!

Exploding with excitement,
Tim

The picture has been lost to time, but for those curious, it was $600,000. Compared to later funds, this was actually rather modest. Well, compared to some later funds, this was also rather extravagant. It fluctuated.

* * * * *

10/25/2004

Dear F,
I am really glad I was able to visit you, I hope to find a Thai restaurant just as wonderful as that one we went to in New York. I am sorry that I could not stay longer. The Shelter almost fell apart without me, ha ha! I've never been good at addressing hard topics, but Alice was mad at me and that helped, so I'm sorry you don't believe me about our animals, and I want to say that I understand. Please think of me as crazy instead of a liar, if you must. I don't want you think I am lying to you. But I won't bring it up again, I promise.
Also, I found these chocolates for Valentine's for Alice, and she didn't eat the white chocolate ones, and I know how much you like white chocolate!!! So I hope you will accept the leftovers and box just for you. Cheers, kiddo!

Love,
Tim

As a brief aside, I do love white chocolate, and the chocolates he sent me were the best I have ever had. I wonder why it took him so many months to send them, if the Valentine's Day story is to be believed. In any case, whoever first finds those chocolates again has found the key to my heart — or at least to my stomach.

* * * * *

11/12/2005

Dear F,
Is it as cold where you are as it is here? Brrrr! Freezing all the time! I sometimes find myself wishing that you could join us at the fireside here in Oregon. Do you have any plans to visiting? I can't leave the Shelter to go south for Christmas with Audrey, but I would love to have you up here — I have so many trails I could show you! Ones I have found and ones I have made myself. Though I find I have less and less time for that these days, I am sure I can make time for you, ha ha! Unfortunately, sick animals don't miraculously heal around the holidays. Well, except one.
It astounded me when I looked at my calendar and realized how long it had been since I saw you. Only a year? It has felt like forever! I want to be able to give you a big hug. For now, I'll have to tell Audrey to give you extra ones for me.
Have you read her newest poem by the way? It's amazing! It made me cry and it will make you cry too. Yes, even you, the tearless baby. I swear it! It's about a dog frolicking in the snow at a park, but it feels like a lot more. I don't know, I've never really understood how to read into things. Tried in high school and didn't succeed, ha ha!
But seriously, ask her about it. With how well you write, I have to wonder, do you make poems? If you do, please send me them! I want to share my talented progeny's work with everyone.
See? You rub off on me! I know the word "progeny"!

Love,
Tim

* * * * *

10/30/2006

Dear F,
As you know, Audrey visited recently, and I have included some printed photos of our hikes together. We're old fashioned and still like printed pictures, I hope you agree! I'm also very happy that Alice and Audrey seemed to get along. Is it weird that I worried? But also, you may notice that this letter is a little early, unlike when letters get misplaced — hasn't happened very much recently, thank goodness! Well, there is a good reason for that.
You and I both know that Auds likes to hold her tongue, and I hope you don't think that I'm saying something I shouldn't, but I think she's really sick. I don't think she's going to tell you. But when we hiked, she was struggling about as much as me! Which is new.
I know you and her are very close, and I know you haven't seen each other recently. She told me so, she's eager to see you! Please don't think I am rude for suggesting, but I think you should see her soon. If you have time. Which you probably don't! Congratulations on the new job! I don't know what a "Controller" is, but Alice helped me look it up and it sounds very important!!! Stepping stone to CFO? If that is anything like a CEO, that's really big!!!

Love,
Tim

* * * * *

04/21/2007

Dear F <3 :D,
Welcome to my first ever email! A young volunteer named Jackie showed me the ropes, and emoticons! :) :) :) I love <3 them, I feel like a kid again discovering new things. They're so cute! :D :) and I can put noses on them :-) I like this one the most.
I write in the form of an email because I need you to know that I have very suddenly decided to come down for a visit. Audrey will get a very similar email. Trust me that I understand the importance of mother-child bonding time, and will get out of your hair very quickly, but I need to show my support however I can. :-(
On the bright side, with you living on the west coast, we can visit more often!
See you soon,
Tim <3

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