Deer Country Network

[Everything seems... frustrating. Everything seems like it's stewing. He wanders around, trying to find something to do other than swatting bugs and killing (and sometimes saving) beasts.]

[But is everything really... how it's supposed to be? He's not sure. He takes a crystal out of his pocket and stares at it for a while. He's not sure how to use the magic here - he's tried, but maybe because it crosses the rift he can't call upon others? He huffs in frustration, curling up a little bit.]

]But he doesn't let go of the crystal. This crystal, which means so much to him, that came to him through a twist of fate. ... But was it really fate? Or was it always going to happen?]

[Eventually, he grabs his omni and writes out a post. Anonymously, because... well. He doesn't want people to worry. Even if it'll probably be obvious that it's him...]

Is who you were in the past important to who you are now?

I would have said yes, but some days... some days I'm not sure. I don't know anymore.

Everything's so complicated and I don't even know if who I was is who I am now...

Maybe this was stupid to ask. Sorry.

With the lamp network down, not only plant-riddled, it's harder to get around Trench. I'm not always available, I have other jobs, but I also have a truck.

If you need a lift or to move goods, let me know (best in advance). Respond here, my inbox, or, in case of emergency, via omens. Payment in barter.

Questions?

Good morning, everyone. I hope your February was relatively pleasant and uneventful!

The purpose of this post is to share information about the climate and odd events that happened last March, in order to help newcomers better prepare for the coming month. If you believe the information contained herein is inaccurate or incomplete in any way, please let us know in the comments below. Thank you!

March is the first month in the Season of Tears, or the Trenchian Spring. Because of this we can expect a sudden and calamitous thaw in the first week of the month, where all or nearly all of the snow will disappear and be replaced by explosive plant growth. I was unable to find any references to a flood in network posts published during this period last year, but it seems prudent to be on our guard nonetheless. Outreach still has a few sandbags left over from managing the snow, so if you are concerned with keeping your home or place of business safe please contact us! Additionally the Pthumerian called Moon Presence is known to be active during this month, and it may be possible to hear her weeping or singing over the sound of water. As she is not known to be hostile to Sleepers, it's probably safe to ignore her, so long as you do so respectfully.

The same unfortunately cannot be said of the Moss King! This Patron Pthumerian is associated with the month of March, and his portfolio includes unconquered nature, prophecy, precognition, and games of chance. Because of this the people local to Trench honor him by holding carnival games on the boardwalk during March, but with a sadistic twist: last year new Sleepers were required to play these games in order to obtain their welcoming bags and other objects from home. It's also mentioned in A Survivor's Guide to the Unknowns of Trench (multiple authors, can be checked out from the Archive for further perusal) that these games are haunted by a female-presenting Pthumerian, dubbed "the Lady of Luck" by the authors, who is able to pull Sleepers into more difficult and frequently bloody challenges through the issuance of tarot cards. These challenges vary from to year to year, but as the Lady is most frequently encountered on the board week it seems possible that she might be avoided by likewise refusing to take part in these games. If anyone has more information on this topic I once again entreat them to leave a comment below.

The Moss King himself also took part in the "fun" last year: it seems that he either built or obtained a "summer home," and took it upon himself to invite Sleepers to visit him therein. These invitations took the form of enchanted letter bombs with caused instantaneous and complete immolation upon opening; networks posts written at the time are clear that this process was very painful, although it did end in teleportation to the grounds of the house instead of death. Sleepers who braved the house were able to obtain powerful items from their homeworlds; I leave it up to the individual to determine whether this process was worth the pain involved or not.

Finally, a number of Sleepers have reported violent and disturbing encounters with a boardgame called Jumanji; this game possesses reality-warping powers, and pulled Sleepers into a sort of "pocket dimension" where they were forced to pass various challenges in order to escape. The game is clearly labeled as such, and I must suggest in the strongest possible terms that any Sleepers who encounter it both avoid it carefully and report its location to the network. To those who are familiar with the movies: I know it sounds fake, but just because it's a piece of fiction in other worlds doesn't mean it's not dangerous here. If you have trouble believing that, then I suggest you take it up with the Pthumerians, or possibly the Jedi and Sith. I'd be very interested to learn how that goes for you.

[Maul usually only posted once to the network per month, so the fact there was a second post from him and so soon after the first might have been cause for alarm, except he didn't look at all serious. He had a rolled scroll with him. After seeing Savage post on the network, he'd felt it was time to take action.]

It has come to my attention that my little brother Savage is going to be without a date for the second year in a row here in Trench as Valentine's Day approaches. This is unacceptable, so I am rectifying the situation by finding him one. To that end, I have complied a list of his traits for those of you who have not had the pleasure of getting to know him well.

[Then he unrolled the scroll. Yep, Maul had written down a numbered list of all his brother's good qualities.]

Item one: He's tall. Ridiculously so. Which is not pertinent to those of you who are also tall, but for the short ones in this city, it is always good to have someone who can get things off the top shelf and step on those who oppose you.

Item two: He's extremely loyal. It takes him a very long time to open up to you and learn to trust, but once he does, you will have his trust for life. You can't ask for someone who will stick by your side for a longer period of time than he will.

Item three: He's very caring. Related to the above, he always puts himself last and so he'll make sure all your needs are met first. Indeed, sometimes it can be hard to get him to take care of himself even when he needs to.

Item four: He comes with a very cute pet named Ruin who is a rathtar he will gladly show off to you if you come over to visit.

Item five: He is a decent fighter. Considering the perilous nature of this city, it's useful to have someone who knows how to wield a lightsaber or who can gore an opponent to death with his horns on your side. Do keep in mind he may challenge you to a battle in order to start proper Nightbrother courtship, so you may want to bring weapons on your first date.

Item six: He's good-looking. I will accept no arguments on this fact simply because some of you are used to human-centric worlds. Don't be speciesist. The proof speaks for itself.

[He held up a sketch he'd put down next to this item on the scroll to prove his point.]

Item seven: He's good at hunting. When this place eventually collapses into dust, there will be little food left, so it will help to have someone who can track down and kill game for you to eat. Not to mention there might be lean months as it is for one reason or another.

Item eight: He is family-oriented. He is very good with kits and I'm sure wouldn't mind having five or six of his own down the line if the relationship progresses that far.

[He rolled the scroll back up.]

I will now take applicants to be vetted by me first before I set you up with him. Do keep in mind if any of you break his hearts, I will be forced to break you in return, so be kind to him. Go out for a nice dinner or hunt in the woods or have a good sparring match and this will all go according to plan.

[.......Stick around long enough on this post and one might have the pleasure of seeing Savage toss Maul through a wall for trying to set him up on a date.]

I have a few questions if anyone has else some time on their hands.

For anyone who has created a blood bond; How have you found the experience? Is it different than what you expected?

Also, if anyone knows the little girl who introduced herself as Chibi Chibi, I'd like to know if she's still here. Or another version of her, if that's what happened.

[Maul was sitting outside on his roof, the snow softly coming down around him, hood up so they didn't land on his head. There was a soft, contemplative look on his face that he didn't often wear. For those that knew Maul, they'd realize there was one big change. His eyes, which had constantly been a golden color before, were now instead a grey-brown.

Next to him, looking perfectly fine with this cold weather due to the fur that made him little more than a ball of fluff, was his Mankey, named rather fittingly Cranky. Though Maul seemed unaware of it, the Pokémon was imitating his master in body language perfectly right now, sitting down with his arms folded and staring off into the distance. Mankey see, Mankey do and all that.

There was a long pause before he began the video. He was woolgathering and trying to put everything together, saying it in just the right way.]

For anyone I teach, classes will commence again now that I am back. [There was a pause.] In case you were unaware, I made a long journey to my home galaxy for about three years, though I understand I was only gone for about a week here. I had....quite the experience just before I came back with the Dark Side of the Force. I had to face a great many things about myself and learn some hard truths. But while I could not accept what it had to offer me then, I think I am ready to now. To let go of the past, to put some of my pain behind me, to gain more power than I ever thought I could.

[Always with the search of power. He couldn't help it, such a thing was ingrained into him by now.]

It taught me to let go of fear and pain and instead learn to care about others, to keep anger close, but never to let it turn self-destructive. Things many of you have told me here but which I did not want to listen to. But who am I to deny it when the Force itself tells me such things? [There was a soft laugh.] Well, I have returned and don't plan to go anywhere, much to the misfortune of some of you.....But this has proven an interesting experience, one I shall take heed of going forward.

[It's .. some skinny white haired dude who could probably use a hairtie, sitting at a worn out wooden desk. Peeking over the edge of the desk is what looks awfully like a dark, strangely furry python head, complete with flicking tongue. No wait, there's two.]

Good afternoon! While I've been making as much use of the journal I found in my pack as I can, and had quite a few questions answered by it, it's not clarified much by way of these ... omens. Like what I'm supposed to feed it.

[Make that three snake heads, the newest one stretching towards the omni bit by bit. Yoichi doesn't seem to notice, or perhaps mind; it's hard to tell.]

I'm also hoping to find someone who can help me with getting a bit of a sturdier dwelling built close to the beach. I'm afraid I don't have much to offer in return save ... ah, blood. I'm told that can be quite valuable the first time it's shed here, I'm apparently a coldblood now if that's helpful. [Clearly he doesn't like the blood thing but what can you do? He brightens back up, just as one of the snake heads makes a grab for the omni with a mouth full of very sharp teeth. It's caught before it can get to it and gently pulled back.] I've been told there is such a group here but I guess I'm easily distracted, I keep forgetting to ask for more details.

[ asriel has been described as an imposing figure, and the harsh lighting in this place does nothing to dispel that. it's a spacious room, and what light there is seems swallowed by the darkness of the shadows. the lamp on the desk beside him provides most of what there is, and it also illuminates the mess of books and papers he did not bother to tidy before making this.

his snow leopard daemon sits calm and still at his side, all except for her tail sweeping back and forth. there are the sounds of ravens chattering nearby unseen, but as the cat seems more attentive to asriel, they don't seem to be the cause of her anticipation. ]

I am Lord Asriel Belacqua. Few of you will know me, as I only recently found myself in this world, which is why I am here now.

For various reasons, I am interested in the pthumerians, but my research will take time and is more limited in some areas than I would like. I would rather hear it from the rest of you since the people alive here right now are more relevant than the opinions of authors who may no longer be with us. Do you consider them friends or foes? What role does their presence play in your lives? Do you approve of their influence on you? Consider me taking a neutral stance, so all sides have value; if it is worth mentioning, I would hear of it.

[ it's intended to be some encouragement to those who might wonder if their information isn't important enough (because it is), but asriel being asriel means it comes out sounding more like a command. ]

You needn't answer all the questions either, just whatever you like.

[ yes, the snow leopard talks too, but stelmaria's manner manages to be gentler, at least. ]

Given the implications of the illness problem, now seems an appropriate time for an exchange of information, don't you think?

[She’s been here for over a week now. Time to get the lay of the land. The video opens up to a particularly tall blonde woman with a golden skeletal arm and a smirk. She's here to cause problems on purpose.]

Greetings, hello, salutations. My name is Ianthe Naberius. I’m new in town, twenty two, a princess of Ida, unfortunately single and dreadfully bored!

Now, I come to you today, not only to introduce myself, but to ask something of all of you.

Who do you hate most in Trench and why? I’m trying to meet people, network, but it’s so hard and overwhelmingly positive! So consider this an open invitation. Warn me about that dangerous scoundrel who kicked your puppy, seethe about how much you despise me for whatever reason, tell me about your parasocial hateful fixation on one of the local divinity. It can be a minor slight you want to complain about, a friend of yours who owes you two perfectly intact human skulls, or it can be an actual danger to this lovely little community of ours.

Now, before you try to say “this is childish and stupid!” You’re absolutely right, but it is a necessary part of self care to allow oneself to be an absolute cunt once in a while. [Or all the time, if your name is Ianthe.] So let’s not make any grand claims to being above something like this, mm?

Feel free to use the anonymity feature. Or the privacy feature, I guess, if you’re shy or worried about being fileted like a fish.

[ The camera frames Duty's impassive face. ]

Snow removal's becoming a problem. Outreach would like to help, but I want something more efficient than shovels. We have flaming swords and other weapons.

How about flaming tools?

I offer 5 Coldbloodstones to anyone who will use them—keep the extras—to make a useful tool to clear snow.

Make the best one, and I'll buy more.

[ The camera pans to a shallow bowl containing many coldbloodstones. ]

i: VIDEO PRIVATE to eden

[There's a saga before this that isn't broadcasted to the network at large, but only to Eden via drone: Mike's abduction on the way into Crenshaw, his bout of unconsciousness - the horror of waking, mouth stitched shut, in not quite unfamliar, bloody, hostile territory, clad only in a dull, red jumpsuit - the further horror of realizing he's chained to what amounts to nothing more than the headless upper half of what had once been a Sleeper. It's possible she's seen who and what their fate was. It's also possible she hasn't.

It's the standoff in the Sleeper Farm - floor after floor of dragging the remains of another Sleeper with him, up and up - even when his blood is functional enough he could be rid of the gory baggage he doesn't shed it - that would, in effect, be leaving a man behind, and what kind of thing is that to do? By the end of it, it's become a grudge. And by the time he's in front of that statue, all manner of organs in its hands, he gently unshackles his companion, and then himself, before stomping on the chains until they're no longer chains, but a mess of old wires that disintegrate into nothing but stains on the floor.

His endless rageful shouting - the stitches are long gone, left an aftertaste of ash that's as unwelcome as the rest of this, maybe even moreso.]

Del, to everyone!

ii: VIDEO PUBLIC: omen: username: TENSKULLS/MIKE ENSLIN

[His Omen is not instructed to contain the broadcast to the small circle Mike intends to ask, so she opens the line of communication to all of Trench instead. Mike may have meant "everyone" in the "Sword Wizards and Mike" way, but Delmira obeys in the literal sense.

Mike's blood and its monthly bonus of excitability is doing the Zealots no favors once he's up here. They're glitching as fast as they're moving, somehow they're not close enough to attack, they're never accurate enough, and then they're behind a bubble that's rendered them a slow motion haze, confused and barely audible through it, while he sits on a summoned chair, a growing pile of shirts at his feet that shows no signs of slowing. Every shirt is wrong. Wrong pattern, wrong color, wrong cut. That's a fucking video tape and:]

That is the wrong fucking thread count!! GOD DAMNIT!!!

[He is now screaming (nearly unintelligibly) I want!! MY SHIRT!! with the exact same vibe he'd once screamed as he attacked a mini fridge. If counted, it takes four hundred and ninety nine shirts to get the correct shirt back. And not that he's paying any mind at all to the Zealots besides hurling words:]

You circus freaks are either going to help me find it or you can fuck right off!!! I'm DONE!

[Wrong shirt.]

Why don't you close your eyes, imagine yourself being actually fucking scary, and then open them and weep, you ASSCLOWN!!!

[Two wrong shirts, but closer to anyone who knows the shirt.]

That was my lucky shirt! I was on my way to WORK, you fermented ball sack! My friends gave me that!! Like you know what friends are with that face! Clive Barker called, he wants his whole thing back!

I'm gonna kick you in the dick so hard your vertebrae pop out like a goddamn Pez Dispenser!!

[Not a shirt, but that's a rain of vertebrae shooting across the backdrop if one chooses to look. Mike doesn't - he's too busy yelling.

Shirts flicker out of existence as new ones appear in his hands, and when that last one comes, he goes quiet as he examines it, the flurry and whirl of bloodmad monstrosities outside his shield growing hazier still. He looks up at the statue with a cold calm, his hands clenching and then releasing the fabric, somehow angrier now that he's bunched it up. So he holds it gently now as the wall he'd conjured flickers, fades, and reveals a floor emptied of Zealots - just that statue and its organ offerings. Its blood.

Before he's able to make any further move, there's a pale, pulsing glow that replaces the fading bubble, a pearlescent shimmer as Moon Presence ends this scene just shy of sacrifice, and he's suddenly in his small, messy room at the Sanguine Station, (standing in front of a whole wall of photographs - daughter, wife, brother, various combinations - in most of which his own face is blurry) - holding a bloodied hawaiian shirt - the very same he'd donned for his first day at his new job - which he has now missed.

He looks down at his omen, the screen, blinking. Delmira blinks back, and shuts her eyes, so it's only Mike's voice that asks, after a pause:]

iii: VOICE PUBLIC: omen: username: TENSKULLS/MIKE ENSLIN

How the fuck do I get blood out of a good shirt?

[Johnny's letters have put her in a melancholy mood, wondering about paths taken and those refused outright. wondering what she could have done differently, better. even before she came here.

would Cal have been so cruel if she had opened her heart to him as he requested? or would it have made matters worse for everyone, her having to split her affections? in such a competition, only one could win, even if it wasn't herself.

but she would have accepted it if it had meant that Jack and Cal could have come to terms, even if it were over her corpse? yes. yes, she would've]

I assume we all have our...regrets. Things we wish we could have done differently, solutions we did not see in the heat of the moment. How do you all cope with those regrets or do they haunt you, still?

You needn't identify yourself. Such confessions almost demand anonymity and will hold no sense of judgement on my part. It's not for me to confirm or condemn for in the end, we're all answerable to ourselves.

[ The broadcast seems to be coming from a Japanese-style garden, though with less greenery, given that it’s Trench. Some people might recognize the man standing in it as Daniel, though he’s not wearing his usual Trench getup, instead wearing a white karate gi, complete with headband. Next to him is a boy some people might recognize as Robby in a similar white gi.

It’s Daniel who speaks up first, his facial expression a relaxed smile. ]

Now, I know that there are a lot of people in this place who already offer help with fighting lessons. But this place can be so dangerous, and there are a lot of people here, so.. better to have too many opportunities to learn than too few, right? [ He shakes his head. ] That’s why I decided to open up the dojo I ran back home here as well, Miyagi-do Karate.

[ Yes, he’s gesturing an absolutely unnecessary amount as he speaks. It’s the Italian within him. ]

Miyagi-do isn’t about learning how to go around picking fights. It’s about learning how to defend yourself and how to protect others, while also focusing on your internal balance. All of which are invaluable skills in this place.

[ Daniel pauses, glancing at the boy standing besides him, before his smile widens a tad and he moves a hand to pat Robby’s shoulder. ]

I’m sure some of you might recognize my student Robby here. He’s been practicing Miyagi-do for a long time now [ never mind some stuff that’s being shoved under the rug here, sshhh ] and will be helping out around the dojo.

[ Robby has been quiet up to this point, letting Daniel speak without interruption, eyes cast in the man's direction without directly looking at him. But his lips roll when the hand falls on his shoulder, and his expression turns serious. ]

It's true we don't come from a world as dangerous as this one, or as many of you do, but the dojo will hold to its promise to help protect its students by passing on any knowledge and training that will give each one a better chance out there. I'll be helping to lead some beginner classes outside of weapons training, and I can give any advice to newcomers if you want to talk to someone closer to my age. [ Or theirs, perhaps, but same difference. ]

We welcome anyone from any of the other schools of fighting, just as we'd recommend that people go to others to find what works for them. Sensei Uchiha of the ninja school and Sensei Lawrence of Eagle Fang are good teachers with their own styles I can recommend, and if we can help alongside the other teachers here, that's our goal.

(ooc: daniel is the black text, robby the green text! ooc information can be found over here!)

November 14
Outreach
Non-profit construction group

General announcement

This month Darkbloods are experiencing a curse similar to the Tower’s—manifestations gone wrong. Everyone, please be advised and take care.

Multiple cases of loose wires/circuit board faces capable of speech have been reported at Outreach worksites. Client or not, if you see these, please let us know and do not talk with them. You can deactivate them with blunt force, but we will handle them free of charge.

No additional manifestations are expected this month.

[ It's in the early hours of the morning of the second that Luna opens the feed. At first nothing looks awry, there's simply the cosy low-light of her bedroom and from what can be seen around Luna's shoulders everything seems calm. Well, slightly eerie, considering the soft glow that comes from under her skin, even slightly visible through her pyjamas. That's a new thing for this month, as if she (and everyone else for that matter) might see the very pulse of her blood within her veins. It's like she's turned into a literal nightlight.

And then Luna's face comes into view as she brings the camera up: bedraggled and wide-eyed and expression strained. There's panic in her eyes, worry. Her breathing's shaky as she stares at the camera for a moment, not sure how to start. Something is clearly wrong. ]

I need— answers. [ Her gaze shifts off-camera, then back. She swallows thickly, relenting. ] We were fine, we went to bed. We had a nice day, and we were fine— he was fine, and now— now he's— I'll just— let me show—

[ With much fumbling, she shifts the camera round. It turns to her bed, where a strange, human-shaped mass of grey lies upon it. She moves closer, and it slowly becomes clearer that the mass is in fact Peter Graham — concealed in the grey mucus, covered in tiny eyes that all stare up at her. The young man doesn't seem to be in any obvious distress: he simply sleeps inside the gross-looking slime that covers him. Luna keeps the camera on him for a long moment before she turns it back to her. ]

What is this—? What does it mean—? [ The questions come quickly. It is rare for Luna Lovegood to get herself all in a fluster, but this is Peter she's talking about. She's worried, and the fact that even she's openly worried and scared for him speaks volumes. ]

I've heard about... something like this. It happens to Sleepers sometimes, but I've never seen it. Is this when they go home—? Is that what it means—? Where do they go? Where did he go? I need answers, someone must be awake—

[ It might be obscenely late, but surely someone will be up to provide her with information. Does it mean going home? Luna's... frightened of that. She doesn't know everything about how things were in Peter's world, but she knows more than most. And she knows that there's nothing good for Peter back home. ]

How long will he be like this? How long does it last? He'll come back, yes? He has to. [ She flops down to sit on the edge of her bed, Peter just behind her in the camera's view. She's fretful, bewildered. Silence falls for a long moment, Luna looks utterly exhausted. But then again, this is hardly the most pleasant way to wake up in the middle of the night. And she's woken up plenty times in the middle of the night due to horrible, terrible and sometimes disgusting things.

Her voice grows very small, barely a whisper. How did this happen? ]

... I don't understand, he just— it was his birthday—

[cw: forced body transformation]

gloves for skeletons

skeleton writing gloves

gloves for skeletons to write with

( skelesearch terms )

It begins with a private apology. Three days precisely after his argument with Jin Guangyao, Shen Yuan wakes up in his little screened-off section of the barracks to a worn and crumpled fox mask falling off his face. He stares at it. Turns white as his sheets. Rolls over and buries his head under his pillow.

Eventually he reaches for his omni and initiates a voice recording.]

Bro, I -- [No, not that. He didn't have the right to call Jin Guangyao that before and he definitely doesn't have the right now. He starts over.]

Jin-gongzi, I -- this is Shen Yuan. I'm contacting you to apologize for my behavior three days ago. It was beyond inappropriate. Thank you for trying to cure me. I apologize for my actions with regards to that, too.

[Please don't give up on me, he doesn't say. Instead he opens the field for a public text post.]

peerless_hobo writes --

So, I've got good news for anyone who was struggling with the blood price to cure a transformation brought on by an enchanted mask. It appears that after three days, the mask will fall off on its own, and the person it affected will return to normal. Unfortunately the memories of the things they did while transformed will remain indelibly etched in their and others' minds forever. ♡૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა💢

[And finally, to Duty he writes,]

Boss, it's Shen Yuan. I can't go to work today. Or ever. I'm going to stay in bed and put all my efforts into transforming into a dried-up little pillbug instead.

Good evening,

I need a bit of some assistance or advice. My sleeper isn't being active and all she ever does is sleep. Making her get up just to do daily tasks like brush her hair, teeth, eat, and etc... it's just been very difficult!!

I'm wondering if this is happening with other sleepers or is it just her? And if this is happening with others, can you please give me some ideas on what I should do or what's been helpful? Thank you very much in advance!

— Signed,

A very concerned anonymous Omen.

[Maul's doing a little better than he has been the past few months. At least he's not all corrupted into insanity like he was for a couple of weeks in July or about to breakdown after his video in June. Sharp-eyed viewers will notice he's got a new piece of jewelry. On the ring finger of his left hand, there's a black, sparkly wedding band made of Darkblood. Yep, Maul got hitched. But who would be crazy enough to marry the Zabrak Sith Lord? A question one can ask if they're feeling especially brave.]

Everyone always thinks they're the hero in their own story. And it's easy to justify that you are no matter what you do because you're the main character in your mind. No one ever wants to admit they're just one of the side characters or even the villain. And how do you even know when you've become the bad guy? It's easy to say what actions you undertake are for the greater good or at least something that will get you what you want. You keep telling yourself that until you look around one day and see the only monster around you is yourself.

[He leans forward.]

I am very fond of stories. So I'll tell you a story about a villain from my world and you can tell me one about a hero or villain from yours in return.

Once upon a time, there was a young man who had darkness in his heart. He coveted power amongst all else and to that end he committed many monstrous acts to gain it. When he saw that his family stood in his way, he killed them all without thought. Over the years, he gained power but it was never enough. Always, he wanted more. Eventually, he realized that no matter how much power he possessed, he would lose it all when he died. And so he sought to gain immortality.

He eventually found a Sith Lord, very old and wise, who told him he had discovered the secret to living forever. "Become my apprentice, do everything that I command, and I will teach you my secret," he told the man. And so he did. Day after day, year after year, he obeyed the Sith Lord, committing many more atrocities in his quest to gain immortality.

He would often ask the Sith Lord, "Am I ready?"

The response was always the same. "Not yet."

After many years the man, no longer as young as he once was, began to grow impatient. He went to his master. "I have done all that you asked. Teach me what you promised."

The Sith Lord merely laughed in his face. "You will never be ready to learn."

The man felt rage rise up within him. "Why not?"

"Because only a Sith who has no fear can conquer death. But you? You will always fear dying no matter what you do and so you will never master the secret of immortality," the Sith Lord told him with contempt.

The Sith apprentice was furious. He felt he had been lied to and so he waited. His master never slept, for he had seen the future and knew he would die in his sleep, but his apprentice was cunning. Eventually, he got his master drunk, and the Sith Lord finally fell asleep. So the apprentice took up his lightsabers, stabbing his master in his hearts, and killing him. Only then did his anger abate and he realized he still did not know the secret to living forever.

He would spend the rest of his life seeking it out and never finding it until the day he died, always shackled by his fear instead of facing it head on and conquering it instead. He used the power he'd acquired to create a vast empire that stretched throughout the entire galaxy but still it was not enough. Always he was afraid of what was to come at the end of his life. And when he finally died, betrayed by his own apprentice as usually happens with Sith Lords, it was done so screaming in fear as he realized he had failed in his lifelong ambition.

[He pauses for a moment, examining his claws without looking up.]

That was a true story by the way. It is called the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise. Sith Lords often have a dramatic way of doing things, especially when it comes to teaching their apprentices.

hiya!! so i just finished my house. im now living alone and drinking a nice cool beverage. aka bottle of wine.
rly living the good life.

SO
then i thought since im feeling prtty good. why not offer my services to all of u poor saps?
now READ CAREFULLY!!!

this is a ONE TIME OFFER from me to u. an engerinner like myself needs to fix things and solve probs. thats just waht we do. if we dont we will go bonkers and u dont want to see me go there. 🤣🤣🤣

oh and this is free of charge btw. wild right? im just feelin THAT generous.

or drunk.

anyway.

u got a prob? ill give u my advice. itll be 1000000000% honest the truth and all truths.

u can be anonymous to hide ur shame or not. CHOICE IS URS! 🐵💥🦈