I run the risk of being condemned by members of our community because I am touching on a very slippery topic that is related to the interaction of men and women. Many blindly follow the stereotypes imposed on us by modern civilization and curse those who try to debunk them. But I consider it's my duty to warn every member of the community about the potential danger of "friendship" between representatives of different genders for relationships, about the need to get rid of groundless illusions based on official public opinion, which has a completely perverted idea of spreading the principle of "sameness" of men and women into the field of gender behavior. Full equality in the social, legal and economic sense - YES! Sameness in the physiological sense, in the sense of the intrasexual and intersexual behavior of two different - sex people - NO!
And as for the essence of the matter ... If you take a closer look at others, if you read what the betrayed partners write on the subs devoted to infidelity, then you will see: INFIDELITY WITH "FRIENDS" of the opposite gender takes 1st place in the rating of threats to any relationship. Almost all affairs are affairs with "friends," all of them (with coworkers, with neighbors, with the community in the church, with the partner's relatives and their own ones, etc.) begin with "friendship". Because, if we do not talk about prostitution, intentional ONS and quick sex in bars, etc., any sexual relationship begins with an emotional attraction between men and women. And this emotional attraction (connection) is called "friendship" in different definitions: "just a friend", "close friend", "soul mate" and so on (according to the intensity of the emotional connection).
Moreover, life constantly confirms that any emotional connection between representatives of the opposite genders necessarily has a romantic connotation of varying degrees of intensity - both consciously and subconsciously. If the relationship between a man and a woman is not too "close", "cool" (at work about buisness, with neighbors, with members of communities of interest, with the couples of mutual frieds or acquaintances), then the romantic sexual aspect practically does not appear, it slumbers on a subconscious level.
However, if two people start spending more time together, start sharing their opinions and secrets, share common interests, then the romantic component will begin to intensify and this can and almost always leads to physical contacts, of course of a romantic sexual nature (infidelity). Thus, any sufficiently strong emotional connection between a man and a woman cannot but become clearly romantic (at least for one of the "friends"). Another thing is, will they be able to refrain from sex at the same time? Experience shows that very often they will not be able to. It all depends on the psychological ability to contain their emotions, to observe boundaries, on their honesty, ability to empathize with committed partner. Cheaters are those who do not pay attention to boundaries and act only for their own pleasure and that is determined by their morality. But, alas, there are a lot of potential cheaters.
In simple words. Innocent male (female) "friend", "just a friend", "just soul mate" in the sense of sexual behavior for a woman (man) is absolute nonsense. These are fairy tales for those who know life from novels, TV shows and movies. There is no innocent "pure" friendship between a man and a woman, unless he is 100% gay and she is 100% lesbian. In any other case, the "friendship" of persons of opposite genders is necessarily explicit or subconscious sexual in nature. As Henry Miller wrote: "No matter what a man and a woman talk about, the main topic of their conversation is always sex." We are not sexless angels, but rather civilized animals: the basic instinct, the instinct for sexual pleasure, boys - girls... In the wild, you will not see a "friendship" between a male and a female if they are neither a stable pair to reproduce offspring or they do not have estrus. And people have "estrus" all year round 24/7.
In reality, everything goes along the chain: acquaintance - emotional attachment - "just a friend" - "friend" - "soulmate" - constant texting - sexting - nude pics exchange - holding hands - touching - kissing - masturbation - oral - full sex. This is the law.
Of course, there are exceptions to this law, but they are rare and only confirm the law.
Therefore, if someone begins to see a strengthening (aggravation) of the emotional attraction (connection) of their partner with a representative of the opposite gender, then it will end in betrayal with a very high probability.
The red flags are:

1. a constant increase in the time of communication with someone of the opposite sex via electronic communications, most often by phone. In my opinion, if outside of work contacts last more than 30 minutes a day, in aggregate, then it is necessary to be alert and conduct some investigation.
   
2. hiding the phone screen, iPad, computer from the partner.
   
3. constant conversations about a "colleague", "neighbor", "gym colleague", etc., and then a sharp cessation of mentioning them.
   
4. joint lunches with "friend" at work, walks, visits to sports and entertainment events, joint occupation of some hobby.
   
5. constant hanging in companies where there is a suspected "friend".
   

6.changing body language and appearance against the background of developing "friendship".
...
Perhaps you will add something to this list.
I repeat, I'm not going to offend anyone's feelings, I want to warn. There is never much security.

I’ve been writing for 6 years now! I just really want to look for a Longterm and Literate Partner as it seems to be basically impossible to find one. Someone who is nice! Where we can maybe build our own NSFW world using some of these story’s below! Please be patient as I do work and have a life!
The only things I ask for is that. 1. Please be nice 2. Please be respectful 3. Understand real life is a thing 4. Don’t be weird with me 5. Be descriptive and literate or semi lit. 6. Pls don’t ghost 7. I’m open to almost any idea! Just not the basic milf role please for the love of god
One thing I love is BLACKED <3
College Roommates Okay so with this one I think it would be fun to explore the romance and sex between two adorable roommates! But I also think this can be much bigger than just the two of them over time! As in we base the entire roleplay around this college of students with different stories and different sex lifes. Raging from dark, fucked up, to cute and romantic! Just our own long term lewd world of college students! Of course focusing on a main pair to start with.
Attention Whore Gets a Reality Check This would be around my character who is female! Maybe there’s a party going on and she goes in flashy clothes or ones that show her body off well. Knowing guys will look at her, however she is just a attention whore and soon it goes a very wrong way. She gets dragged to a bathroom or bedroom by multiple guys against her own will. And they use her like the whore she is pretending to be.
Town Whore This story would require you to play multiple characters. As the character I would be playing the town whore for the acts of sex that she can give if someone pays. She could be sitting at a bar and a random person gives her £200 for a fuck in the public bathroom. Basically selling her body for money to pleasure the people who use her. This story definitely has the potential to be Longterm! Scenes in many locations and each scene having a different mood to them.
Family Holiday We would both play multiple characters in this family Holliday! To a caravan? A private island? A cabin out in the woods? Whatever you want you name it! We can start slow with family members exploring, until suddenly it gets more and more intense with more family members getting involved in the sex!
Prisoned (Very Dark) My character would be prisoned for something she didn’t do. But the system is corrupt and has put her in the most rough prison on the planet. The guards don’t care what happens, and it also turns out she is the only female in the prison..for now. I think you can guess where this is heading.
Parents out of town (dark) This time the older siblings would be more harsh and rough with the younger one. Maybe even inviting there friends over to get a turn and play around with the younger sibling? Taking complete advantage of her.
Kidnapped This poor person is walking on her own in the middle of the night. Her mother told her to go to the shop at 11pm so that’s what she is doing, by the time she gets to the end of the street her life is taken away from her. She’s kidnapped by one or many people. She would never see her family again, she would now be brought up with this person or group. Told there ways, listening to them and doing as they say. Being there little play thing, there own little bitch who would hate it but be fucked into enjoying it.
Cave exploration(DARK) What my character does not realise is that the cave she is exploring is home to these savage untamed beasts. Creatures that are built like the hulk and standing at 15 foot tall with these throbbing cocks almost as long as her! They abuse her, hurt her, and take her for there own in the cold cave, but maybe over time it would be more than just her they use.
Kinks:(NOT ALL REQUIRED) Assjob, Handjob, Blowjob, Boobjob, overall assplay,cnc , rimming (both ways) ,monster, fantasy, lactation, torture , abuse, fantasy creatures, face sitting, face fucking, lots of cum excessive amounts of cum , cum play, Bondage (being tied up and things, with Wandas magic that goes very well) group sex, anal, face fucking, slapping, grabbing, forced, non con, huge dick(normal is still perfectly fine), filming, public, romantic, passionate, threesome, gangbang, being used like a toy or a doll, over stimulation, body writing, ball sucking
Limits I’m pretty much limitless apart from.
Animals, scat, gore, vore, and anything toilet related.
If you got this far, send me your favourite colour in your message so I know x
All characters are 18 plus

My partners caregiver, who is a very nice woman, apparently thinks that this is a hotel or a bar or someplace where she can just sit for hours. She and her husband of 30 years fight all the time. She has other family members with whom she fights as well. She is always coming in and dumping her drama and I just try my best to ignore it. She calls us on the weekends, but she only works during the week. But she calls us on the weekends to come over because they’re fighting. Today, we said we wanted to be alone on the weekend. I don’t appreciate anybody just popping over and I don’t appreciate drama. This is stuff that I don’t even take from my own family, so I’m not about to take somebody else’s garbage. She’s a very nice woman. But This has got to stop. What would you say to her on Monday about this?

Hello! I know there is alot for me to learn but I am essentially trying to get into the vape business. I have been reading for hours and watching videos and the rabbit hole gets deeper and deeper. As simple of a concept I am sure it is for everyone I learned about whole sale prices. That being said, how does the vendor relation work from a buyer to seller with whole sale prices? For example, let's say the puff bar brand. You apply to be a whole sale member and get the "perks", are those perks only buying X product in mass for whole sale pricing or what does that mean exactly? Are whole sale relationships paid on a membership basis? Also do vape shops or brands in general have multiple whole sale relationships to have multiple branded products? I appreciate any intel and thanks!

Thanks to everyone who provided their feedback yesterday. We'll be keeping the daily vent thread as a feature on this sub.
Air your vents here! As a way to improve the sub, facilitate more positive content and reduce the amount of negative daily content here, we have provided a space to post your daily gripes, vents, and grievances. We recognize and understand the need for members of this community to be able to post this type of content, and hope that the community finds this thread helpful. As a friendly reminder, Reddit rules and ftm's rules still apply in this thread.
​
For clarification, most vents should go here, but some may be made into their own post. The criteria to post outside this vent thread are:

1. Your post asks a question that is not common and easily found by using the search bar
2. Your post asks for specific forms of support (regional information, organizations and resources, help lines, etc)
3. Your post facilitates further and deeper discussion for the community.
4. Your post brings attention to an important community issue (anti-trans legislation, safety information, etc)

I’m 31F, currently living back at home with my parents after a major breakup that sent me into a financial mess.
I don’t really like the state my family lives in, it’s just not my type of place.
2022 was hell. I lost everything. Literally, all of my belongings, a great deal of money, an established life and long term partner. It’s been hard.
I’m an only child and feel this sense of needing to remain close to my parents because they’re aging now that I’m here, although I don’t want to. I could move to a surrounding city in the state, find a boring job in my industry and be a real person of society again but the thought of that makes me sad.
Once upon a time I was in a band, I have toured, got to record an album with a member of one of my favorite bands growing up, been all over the radio, we received a handful of attention before things went to crap about 7 years ago, so you could say I’m “washed up” and have been afraid to pick up my instrument and try again ever since. Although it’s my one true love, and I’ve been hiding from it. Sold my gear. I’ve only held on to my very sentimental guitar.
I KNOW 30s is not old, I do, but man, it’s hard to convince yourself of that. Because truly, I feel like it’s too late to try a hand in music again.
I wish I could pack up and move to a destination of my choosing—I’m sort of feeling like ATX would fit my style and hit the pavement again. Work at a bar and have my freedom to write and connect. But it’s terrifying, because let’s face it, that’s not a societal norm, some could even argue that it’s a dumb decision or irresponsible at my age and on the other hand, I feel anxiety about leaving my family because they’re so happy that I’m local to them for the first time in over a decade.
I constantly feel like time is ticking away. I’m unhappy, and I miss my old life and who I was when I lived my passion—or is it just nostalgia playing a trick on me? The imposter syndrome is real.

My girlfriend (20F) and I (21M) have been together for about half a year, and while I love her a lot, I don’t really think we have all that much in common when it comes to anything besides interests.
What I mean is that she’s pretty introverted, and while I’m not the most outgoing person ever, I’m somewhat extroverted.
Now this wouldn’t normally be that much of a problem, big deal, we’re different people. But it’s getting increasingly hard to do ANYTHING besides sit and watch TV when she’s over. Here’s the main details:
She smokes and I don’t, because I’ve had bad experiences while smoking, and I drink and she doesn’t because she had bad experiences with drunk family members. Which means we can’t smoke when we hang out OR go out to drink at bars/clubs
She doesn’t like to eat in front of people because of an eating disorder. Which is perfectly understandable and I completely respect her for that, but it also means that we can’t go out to eat or even order takeout when we’re together.
I’m pretty talkative whereas she’s very quiet and often times doesn’t carry conversation beyond a few sentences. Which again is fine, not everyone is super talkative, but it can really be difficult to hold conversation with someone who rarely seems interested or comfortable enough to do so.
I avidly go to the gym and do recreational sports, whereas she has trouble doing almost any physical activities due to medical conditions.
The town that we live in isn’t very exciting and we’ve already seen most of what we can see.
I work with rappers for a living and she kinda hates rap/is a metal head, so she never wants to come out to shows that I travel to and get backstage passes for multiple times a week.
Most of my friends are city people, and all of her friends are country people so bringing each other to events or gatherings/parties with friends almost never works.
She constantly tells me that she wants to do more than watch TV all day, and so do I, but I truly and honestly don’t know what to do with her. Am I not thinking wide enough or are we not compatible? We love each other a lot, the chemistry and affection is there, but I’m worried it’s been a fluke this whole time. Help?

I just want people to know that the Sonoma County government is corrupt. They spent 186 million dollars on a "new courthouse" that is 163k square feet, which works out to $1,100 per square foot, which is over double the second most expensive building I could find was, and over four times the average price per square foot of palaces and museums. And it's just going to look like a giant portable. This is to house some of the most corrupt people in this County, who all make $200-350+k per year (I am including their benefits in that, but not their pension). The entire DA's Office has a vendetta against Civil Rights in general, and will literally knowingly commit criminal violations of laws for the purpose of covering up serious criminal misconduct on the part of Sonoma County employees.
Lynda Hopkins took money from the law enforcement unions, and turns a willfully blind eye to it.
The County Office of Legal Counsel is literally a crime syndicate.
In 2015, the Sheriff's Office had a veritable torture ring in the jail.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izcHIv5Y4z8
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYrGChrW5HM&list=TLPQMzAwMzIwMjMv0QAOPDy1Lw&index=2
This is just the tip of the iceberg. They lied about the existence of these videos, and "lost" the one where they gave one of the inmates internal bleeding, with a knee to their back.
There was a lawsuit about it. It was called the "Yard Counseling Case". There are news articles about it.
There was an official, written policy, called "Yard Counseling", later its name was changed to "Behavior Counseling" which dictated that for arbitrary punitive measures, Sheriff's Office personnel should extract inmates from their cells individually (which meant slamming their heads onto the door frames on the way out and other abuse), and isolate them, and putting them into "pain compliance" techniques (literally, by definition, torture) for extended periods of time while "counseling" them, which meant wearing no name tags, ski masks and riot gear, carrying a shotgun with them, and insulting them in explicit language for over 20 minutes.
This official written policy was acknowledged by Rob Giordano in a video, where he lies that no inmates where injured, uploaded to YouTube in 2018, when they finally addressed this official written policy, and the practice of torturing inmates without reasonable cause (leading exercise routines, for example).
In 2021, they saw one of the victims of this torture ring, who had sued them and had won, at a peaceful protest, and shot him with a grenade launcher while hiding on a rooftop in the face with a crowd control grenade, which exploded on impact and caused horrific injury that I don't care to describe.
In 2017, I was almost killed by application of a "carotid hold" / lateral vascular neck restraint, by a sheriff's deputy, for literally no reason. A knee was placed on my lower back while I was on the ground on my stomach as well, which caused a serious injury to my kidney, which was the worst injury of my life. I have also been diagnosed with an organic brain injury and cognitive impairment. I was tested for the same type of cognitive impairment before the incident and there is a marked difference, and I have about 30 pages describing the differences I've noticed / troubles I've had in my cognitive functioning. There was no probable cause to arrest me, and I was polite and compliant with all the instructions given to me, and this was confirmed by witnesses. I was punished for invoking my right to remain silent, then my arm was grabbed and yanked up behind me, and then a carotid hold was applied because my body pivoted after the deputy grabbed and yanked my arm.
This occurred UNDER A CAMERA and IN FRONT OF WITNESSES. I called the Sheriff's Office the next day said I want to "make an official complaint in writing". I was transferred to Captain of Internal Affairs, Captain Mark Essick. I repeated my request, verbatim. He responded, verbatim: "We don't do that. Why don't you tell me what happened." I did. I told him it happened right under a camera. He said "The camera can't record." I asked for confirmation. He said the cameras "Don't have recording technology installed."
I asked the County for a claim form. They ignored my request, and instructed me to report the incident to IOLERO. IOLERO requested I meet with Internal Affairs, and I said fine.
Sgt. Andy Cash called me and scheduled me for a meeting at the Sheriff's big station. I was made to walk first and guided upstairs to a meeting room, and then patted down for weapons, and the interview was recorded. For 75 minutes I was deposed about happened. He asked me repeatedly about my mental state after the incident. I admitted that I was upset after the incident, and he acted like that justified the whole incident. He explicitly promised to interview the 4 deputies who witnessed the event in addition to the 2 deputies who participated, as well as the arresting officer (who I told him would confirm that I was polite and cooperative), which he agreed "would confirm [my] demeanor", and a bystander witness I told him about.
I complained to IOLERO director Jerry Threet. Mr. Threet agreed that that was inappropriate, then resigned without reviewing the investigation.
For about 4 years review of the investigation was put on hold because IOLERO staff quit, and when more staff was hired, they complained of being understaffed. They had a budget of over a million dollars but only had 2 employees. They only reviewed one case per four months. And they put off "backlogged" cases and focused on new cases. My complaint was finally reviewed by Interim Director Garrick Byers who clearly stated that the investigation was not conducted appropriately. I have the letter from him. That still has never been made public.
After the interview with Internal Affairs, I corresponded with Lynda Hopkins, and she refused to give her opinion on the matter. I specifically complained that the carotid hold was being used recklessly, and it is a dangerous technique. This was in 2018. She forwarded me to Janell Crane, who then had me meet with Kristi Schultz.
I contacted the DA's Office and spoke to Richard Celli (who made $346k in 2017, and has gunned down two unarmed people, and was convicted by a jury in one of the civil cases brought against him by one of the victim's family, but the sentence was overturned by a judge, while working for the SRPD). The first time I spoke to Mr. Celli, he told me that another law enforcement agency should take my case. After that first time, him and the rest of the DA's Office openly refused to comply with the Victims' Rights Laws (CA Con Art. 1 S. 28), and the "policies" (which are legally binding under CA Con Art 5 S. 13) of the Attorney General stating clearly that they are to take complaints from victims if it can't be resolved with the department.
After the first talk with Mr. Celli, I called Rohnert Park Police as I was instructed, and they 3-way called the Sheriff's office and then transferred me. I spent about 30 minutes reporting the incident to a deputy, and he asked me questions in a fair manner. The incident report from the 30 minute phone call was "directed" to Andrew Cash, and was then destroyed, which is literally a state and federal crime. I called RPPD back and talked to the arresting officer and he positively clearly confirmed that I was "polite, calm, compliant, and cooperative" (or something nearly verbatim, I can't remember exactly any more).
Andrew Cash called me the next day, at precisely 7:00 AM. He told me he was driving. He was extremely confrontational with me. He said "There were 6 deputies [referring to the two who used excessive force on me, and 4 witness deputies]. You were combative." This was false. He had only interviewed one of the 4 witness deputies, and the other 3 had provided written statements. They said that they had witnessed force being used, that they had not participated in the use of force to the best of their memory, and that I "did not appear to be resisting". But again, he had promised explicitly to interview the 4 deputy witnesses, and the arresting officer, and the other witnesses (such as the bystander witness who saw the whole incident, the nurse, etc.).
Internal Affairs exonerated the officers. The letter was signed by Eddie Engram, captain of Internal Affairs at that time. I called Mr. Engram, and had an hour long conversation with him, and he told me to contact Sgt. Cash after April 1st.
I filed a federal claim on the last day that it was due.
Mr. Cash referred me to Legal Counselor, Kara Abelson.
Ms. Abelson spent a year and a half refusing to comply with the Public Records Act, the Rules of Procedure, and the Rules of Professional Conduct. She refused to provide me documents that I was entitled to under law, including the incident report written by Deputies Jacquelin Fazzio and Virgil Smith, and the recorded interviews that he promised he would conduct, and stated pretty clearly that he had conducted.
Kara Abelson spent a year and a half trying to claim that my federal complaint was time barred by 1 day when it wasn't. The judge (Yvonne Gonzalez Rogers) entertained this and forced me to respond SEVEN TIMES, before she finally admitted that the "law wouldn't allow [her] to dismiss [my] complaint".
After a year and a half, Kara Abelson finally withdrew from the case after I started citing the Rules of Professional Conduct to her that require her to resign or withdraw from the case rather than defend a civil case where defense isn't warranted. Nobody had disputed any of the allegations I had made. In fact, Eddie Engram had confirmed that what I said happened was not disputed by the evidence.
At some point around this time, either before or after Ms. Abelson withdrew, the 2 incident reports written by the two deputies, the written statements by 3 of the 4 witness deputies, and the recorded interviews with me, the 2 deputies who assaulted me, and 1 of the eye witness deputies, were provided, along with various other records from the facility. In the recorded interview, and the incident report, the deputies admitted that Virgil Smith had applied the carotid hold.
I had also reported the incident to the State Attorney General Public Inquiry Unite (Lupe Zinzin). She had told me, over and over and over, that the local DA's are required to take complaints from civilians in these situations. She refused to call the DA's Office, though. The DA's Office (Richard Celli, Mark Azzouni, David Kahl, and the anonymous receptionists who all refused to provide their names) refused to take a complaint from me. They (including the receptionists) hung up on me every time I called after no more than 2 minutes, for no reason, transferred me to dead lines, never returned any voicemails I managed to leave, told me explicitly that if I send a complaint, they will throw it away, and didn't care, at all, what the laws were. The receptionists also refuse to provide their names. The Attorney General's Office told me to send them a complaint, so I did. The DA's Office acknowledged receiving the complaint. But later said that they did not have a record of it, meaning they threw it away.
The Attorney General's Office finally agreed to take a complaint from me. It sat on their desk for a year. I finally called them, concerned that evidence was being destroyed, and left a voicemail for Casey Hallinan requesting that they request copies of the physical evidence from the Sheriff's Office. Literally 2 days after that voicemail, a letter was sent to me signed by Sharon Loughner with Casey Hallinan CC'ed on the letter, stating that they would "take no action", and blamed the incident on me. I had not received the letter though, and called and spoke to Ms. Hallinan, who was extremely rude. After that, the Attorney General's Office hang up on me as soon as they find out it's me, for no reason. There has since been a bystander witness who saw the whole thing, and it has come to light that the cameras did record, that no upgrades were ever performed like Ms. Abelson alleged, the cameras do continuously record (as of 2019), and they just lied through their teeth about the camera for 4 straight years. The Attorney General's Office does not care. They violate the laws, and do not care what the laws are.
Sonoma County Office of Legal Counsel attorney Michael King took over after Ms. Abelson withdrew. Right off the bat, Mr. King told me that my motions were deficient - a contention he has repeated frequently, since then. I asked him how. He changed the subject, and to this day has NEVER given any explanation as to how any of my motions are deficient.
He continued to claim that my claim was time barred, filing frivolous motions, in blatant violation of the rules of professional conduct, after I cited the rules to him, constituting explicit legal misconduct.
As I said, the judge finally agreed to open Discovery after a year and a half of full time work trying to fight for my right to not be nearly murdered for no reason.
Lawyers do not take these cases unless there is undeniable proof of blatant guilt, along with undeniable proof of catastrophic injury. Multiple law firms have confirmed that it takes over a million dollars worth of legal work to get these cases to trial.
The judge also promised me a pro bono attorney "if you make it past summary judgment".
The judge scheduled us for Alternative Dispute Resolution (ADR) hearing with a magistrate judge. Mr. King elicited an offer from me, which I spent about 2 weeks working on, trying to make it as agreeable as possible. But then for the hearing, his written offer was to waive charging me his attorneys fees. The ADR magistrate confirmed that there was no legal basis for him to do that - it would be illegal. He had been ordered to participate in this hearing, and there was a legal obligation under the Rules of Procedure to try in good faith to settle the case. He violated the order and the rule of procedure (26 (f)).
All of my motions were completely ignored for no reason.
Mr. King / Defendant Virgil Smith lied about the cameras. They said "Denies the existence of cameras capable of recording in the vicinity", in writing, under oath. They never disputed that he put his knee on top of my back with all his weight on it.
Mr. King refused to comply with his Discovery obligations. I had to file about 4 different motions pertaining to their refusal to comply with the laws regarding disclosure of evidence.
Upon receiving an official Discovery request for records of camera equipment, I received a letter signed under oath by Mr. King (nearly 4 years after the incident) stating that the cameras CAN RECORD. But stating "tasks must be performed" to start the recording function, and stating that all records pertaining to the equipment that was installed at the time HAD BEEN DESTROYED (literally a federal and state crime, a civil tort violation, and a sanctionable act of legal misconduct).
Mr. King refused to schedule any of the witnesses for deposition, demanded MY deposition BEFORE he would even schedule the two deputies who assaulted me, even though I had been requesting depositions with other witnesses for over a month, and refused to schedule anyone else, he refused to answer interrogatories, he refused to provide copies of the policies from the time of the incident. He tried to pass off a weird spreadsheet with the word camera on it as proof that upgrades had been done to the cameras. He refused to provide complete training records for the deputies. He refused to provide details about the training. He refused to provide blueprints of the facility, refused to provide photos of the cameras at the location, refused to provide still images showing which direction the cameras were pointing, was caught lying under oath (and "penalty of perjury") multiple times, refused to provide photos of the deputies so I could schedule depositions efficiently.
The judge erroneously dismissed my Equal Protection claims, construing them as Due Process and Employment Discrimination claims, which are different types of claims than Equal Protection claims against a government actor. The government cannot arbitrarily treat anyone disparately. The Court also dismissed my "Monell" claim against the municipality for their "policies, customs, or practices", but left me leave to amend that claim. And she waited until Discovery opened over 1.5 years into litigation, to do this, forcing me to amend the complaint DURING DISCOVERY which was only open for a limited amount of time, instead of any point in the 1.5 years prior to that.
In the recorded interview with Andrew Cash and one of the witness deputies, she spontaneously states that Mr. Cash instructed her to review the written statements made by the two deputies who assaulted me prior to the interview. Another deputy witness confirmed that Mr. Cash had instructed her to review the written reports by the two deputies who assaulted me prior to her providing Mr. Cash with a written statement as well.
The judge finally retaliated against me, without rational basis, for filing motions, which I had filed because I was being illegally obstructed from preserving evidence, by withdrawing leave to amend regarding the "Monell" claim (I had stated a clear Monell claim to begin with, but the judge literally has an aversion to reading, and relies on guessing, and is biased against pro se litigants; I am summarizing well over 100 pages, if not well over double that, of motions, objections, and replies and the judge's responsive orders).
She did however, finally schedule a hearing with a Discovery referee magistrate. All my motions (and the months of work I was required to do dictated by the various rules) was completely disregarded, and both me and Mr. King were given 2 pages each (double spaced) to go over discovery issues, even though I had filed about 4 different motions about various issues, and he hadn't filed ANY, about Discovery issues, and never did.
During conference I was required to do in accordance with the Rules, Mr. King repeatedly tried to establish that I had committed crimes during the course of conferring which was my legal obligation, without having any rational basis to believe what he was trying to establish. He demanded evidence that would exist, and he kept repeating every lie he could come up with to the judge. The judge would either get annoyed at me if I addressed any of Mr. King's baseless accusations, or take his statements at face value for being 100% true.
Mr. King finally "compromised" and agreed to schedule depositions with me (as long as Mr. King wanted to) and the two deputies who had assaulted me (for 25 minutes each or something) all simultaneously, but refused to schedule anyone else, even though this was grossly advantageous to him, and in blatant violation of Rule 26 of Civil Procedure. One of the eye witness deputies later confirmed that he had "consulted" her over 4 times prior to the trial. During this deposition, Mr. King asked me where a family member of mine works. He had spent about 30-40 minutes trying to convince me that I can tell him anything, that the entire record was designated confidential, that I had nothing to worry about - and at a deposition, you are obligated to answer the questions unless they are harassing. Mr. King also requested contact information for counselors from over 10 years ago, and that was the only question I didn't answer - I told him to provide the request in writing. At some point after that, I told Mr. King to not contact my family member at her workplace, and Mr. King responded "unless you fully and completely cooperate" with his request for contact information for counselors from 10 years+ ago, he would do exactly that - harass my family member with subpoenas sent to her workplace, as I had requested he not do, without EVER REQUESTING A DEPOSITION WITH HER, just using it as leverage.
At the hearing, the Discovery Magistrate (Donna M. Ryu) discussed matters only with Mr. King, without including me. He told her that the 4 eye witness deputies "saw nothing" and "weren't there" (verbatim) trying to get her to deny me my request to take their deposition. She asked him if he would get them to sign fresh "sworn declarations", "under oath" (Judge Ryu's words, verbatim) stating this. Mr. King said yes, absolutely, he would. Judge Ryu asked me "Would that be okay?" I said "No." She started laughing, and asked me why, and I explained that I had explicitly described various interactions with them that had taken place while the carotid hold was still being applied to me, and that they had stated in their written statements that they had witnessed force being used, and that I was "not resisting". She confirmed that this was all true with Mr. King and that he already knew all of this, and ordered him to cooperate with scheduling them for deposition. Mr. King then repeated the same phrases "saw nothing", "weren't there" to Judge Yvonne Gonzalez Rogers prior to the trial.
After that, they went back to discussing matters only with eachother, and I was excluded from discussion. This was an hour long hearing, and at about the 45 minute mark, Mr. King was again lying to the magistrate judge, and when he had finished, I interjected, "That's not true". Judge Ryu shouted "Stop! Stop stop stop stop stop!" And then very assertively explained to me the importance of not interrupting people for the convenience of the court reporter / transcriber. I was excluded from the rest of the hearing.
At some point at either this hearing or the next one, I cited the legal requirement for the parties to disclose contact information for witnesses. I cited the rule of procedure. Judge Ryu responded, "Mr. King is a lawyer!" as if that alone justified his refusal to provide me contact information for EYE witnesses who saw the event. Mr. King and Ms. Abelson had also claimed that they did not have the contact information for the bystander witness (which was a lie), and refused to provide the contact information for the nurse. And when Magistrate Ryu ordered them to provide that, they only gave me the company name he used to work for.
Mr. King refused to provide both fresh written statements from the eye witness deputies as he had promised the magistrate, and to schedule them for deposition, and stated that if he provided written statements, they would be copied and pasted versions of the same statements previously provided, signed under oath (nowhere saying that they "saw nothing" or "weren't there").
Mr. King kept threatening to go to my family member's workplace unless I provided him contact information for counselors from 10+ years ago, DURING a DEPOSITION, without him providing any written request for the information.
He also interfered with scheduling the witnesses for deposition, with the Court reporter that I had hired, disregarded the schedule that I had set, and set them according to his own schedule, which raised the cost of deposition from an estimated about $700 to about $4,000, and said this was my one and only chance.
The Federal Pro Bono Project / the Justice & Diversity Center is an organization that receives seven million dollars a year in public funding and is under contract with the Federal District Court to work with the Court to provide legal consultation to pro se litigants. I had about 19 appointments with them, about 18 with Abby Herzberg, and 1 with Rosemarie Maliekel. Ms. Herzberg was precisely 15 minutes late to every single appointment, repeatedly gave me horrible advice ("just wait", do nothing, "don't file this", despite admitting that the entire motion was valid, directly causing excessive delay and the spoliation of crucial evidence). She also yelled at me aggressively on two occasions because I had brought up state laws, which were being currently violated against me, because the Court had dismissed my "state claims" because Sonoma County refused to supply with a state tort claim form when I first asked, reasoning that was not relevant to the state laws being currently violated against me. After Ms. Herzberg yelled at me the second time, I requested an appointment with Rosemarie Maliekel. Ms. Maliekel spent the entire appointment ranting at me about irrelevant issues, and kept talking over me and interrupting me. I was polite but eventually asked "can I finish what I was saying?" She responded "No!" and kept ranting at me.
I had repeatedly asked about how to properly get medical evidence, and about expert witnesses. Ms. Herzberg ignored my questions and spent nearly the entirety of almost every single appointment reading (or pretending to) through the rules, without letting me speak at all, even to summarize the relevant sections of the rules that I had read.
On a video on their webpage (on the Court's website, because they are a "partner project" with the Court), Abby Herzberg explicitly demonstrates a clear understanding of the fact that the Court provides funding for expert witnesses, despite ignoring my questions about that and spending nearly the entirety of almost every single appointment either reading rules or pretending to.
Discovery was closed.
Mr. King rehashed the legally baseless and frivolous "time barred" claim in a Motion for Summary Judgment. I was required to respond to it twice, and it was obvious Judge Yvonne Gonzalez Rogers wanted to dismiss my claim, and I was required to disprove their baseless legal claims with several tens of pages of case laws. I was required to answer all his "undisputed material facts" under threat of terminating my entire case, but he refused to answer mine. He lied over and over to the judges. As I said, the judge ruled that the laws "wouldn't allow [her] to" dismiss my entire case and rejected his Motion for Summary Judgement.
The Court ordered the Federal Pro Bono Project (FPBP) to put me on a list for attorneys seeking clients. Ms. Herzberg told me that if I filed any motions, that the FPBP would not cooperate with the Court's order, until 1 month before my trial, instead of 6 months before. She also said that a law firm had reached out to them about my case over a month prior to that, and that the staff at the FPBP had not followed up. My filing privileges were then revoked by the Court.
An attorney, David Ratner, reached out to me, and scheduled an initial consultation, over Zoom, at which he stated he "hates cops", and gave a showing of being enthusiastic. I explicitly told him that I wanted to make sure we were on the same page as far as what to "aim for". I told him that I had been working for FIVE YEARS, that I had almost died, that I had suffered two different extremely serious injuries (though I was up front about the injuries being surreptitious and that there had been major delays and flaws with medical evaluation, due to the hospitals not taking my insurance at the time, and ongoing delays because of Covid, and other reasons). I told him that what I asked for was consistent with the most similar case (the Esa Wroth case of 2013) that I knew of (an ask of three million dollars). This was coincidental. I was not aware of the Esa Wroth case when I came up with that number. I agonized over the number to ask for, and had tried SEVERAL times to resolve the case for a tiny fraction of that amount, with Kristi Shultz, with Janell Crane, with Lynda Hopkins, several times with Ms. Abelson who refused to even hear me out, and SEVERAL TIMES with Mr. King, and spent a lot of time trying to come up with a amount that would be MUTUALLY AGREEABLE, EACH TIME and described the methods I used to come up with that number in detail in court documents. Mr. Ratner explicitly agreed to aim for that at the trial. During the Zoom conference, his partner Shelley Mollineaux, showed up about 15 minutes late, stayed for about 3 minutes without saying anything, Mr. Ratner made an awkwardly flirtatious remark to her, and she left without saying anything at all.
Mr. Ratner, and Ms. Mollineaux, who was set to represent me at trial under Mr. Ratner's supervision, then both went dark for over a month. They ignored my emails, voicemails, and messages that I left with their receptionists. There was a hearing, and then Mr. Ratner emailed me demanding "all the documents" that I had. I had over 50 gb of files across thousands of files, and spent about a month working with his paralegals sending them batches of files, and providing all the information they asked me for. Mr. Ratner forwarded me an email from Mr. King where King accused me of violating a court order regarding providing medical providers and the physical addresses of my entire family and my friends, which was false -- the Court had ordered me to provide him CONTACT information, at a second hearing, which wasn't significant, and I had fully and completely complied in good faith with all the Court's orders. Mr. Ratner accused me of not sending him "anything", after I had spent at least several weeks with his paralegals sending them batches of files and information, and he simultaneously threatened to ask the judge for leave to withdraw.
There had been major delays with medical evaluation due in large part to Covid, as well as delayed discovery of brain injury, which is very common, and other factors.
With trial set, Mr. Ratner forwarded me an offer from Defendants for $5,000. Upon discussion (which was 100% in email because he refused to talk over the phone and Ms. Mollineaux completely ignored me), he accused me of not doing Discovery right. I pointed him to the video I referred to earlier, which I had found since Mr. Ratner took my case, but wasn't aware of when I was interacting with the FPBP, where the FPBP (Abby Herzberg), and various District Judges from the Court I was litigating in, state that it is general policy (and it is official policy under the Court's General Order 25) to REOPEN DISCOVERY when a pro bono attorney comes onto the case, and to FUND DEPOSITION AND EXPERT WITNESS FEES.
Mr. Ratner stated he "won't file any motions" and ultimately elected to withdraw from the case over fulfill his legal obligations under the Rules of Professional Conduct. Judge Gonzalez Rogers IGNORED MY REQUEST FOR A HEARING, and in her order granting him leave to withdraw about 2 months before my trial, thanked him. I had spent a ton of time trying to find private attorneys and trying to talk to the FPBP, telling them very clearly that I expected to be put back on the list.After Mr. Ratner withdrew, the FPBP refused to put me back on the list. I was forced into trial BY MYSELF, at 1-2 months prior to trial, after 3 months of my time being completely wasted by Mr. Ratner and his law firm.
I went through the appropriate legal process to submit an expert witness. Judge Yvonne Gonzalez Rogers, as usual, completely ignored my motions, but allowed me to use him after I went through the entire legal process, and paid him thousands of dollars without knowing if I would be granted permission or not, and provided the Court a report stating that the carotid hold was ILLEGAL unless the subject exhibited "assaultive behavior" and that Defendants had never alleged any behavior of mine that constituted "assaultive behavior" (under POST Basic, during 2017). The expert was a Master level instructor at a police academy and former SWAT.
Mr. King provided his pre-trial disclosures, and it contained a document from Rohnert Park police department which had been extensively redacted on the copy that they had provided to me. The new copy contained the contact information for the bystander witness. I called him, and he confirmed that he saw the entire thing, that I had never yelled at the deputies before the first deputy grabbed my arm, and that I was not resisting at any point in time. I told the judge this. She had me call him at a hearing, and both me and Mr. King were allowed a couple of minutes to ask him questions, where he refused to admit that I was even "wiggling" when Mr. King badgered him.
RPPD later sent me the email correspondence between them and Mr. King and Mr. King clearly stated that he had that copy in his records without them sending it, but wanted them to send it to appear official, meaning they had the contact information for the bystander witness the entire time, when they repeatedly lied that they didn't have it.
The judge then refused to allow him to appear at the trial over Zoom (during the height of Covid, even though she let one of the deputies), and refused to summon him to the trial.
Just prior to the trial, the Judge accused me falsely of firing my attorney, and explicitly prohibited me from telling the jury about ANY of the Defendants previous statements about the camera's ability to record (that they had lied about it for 4 years). She explicitly prohibited me from submitting scientific evidence about the carotid hold. She allowed Mr. King to make extremely defamatory false remarks about me and my past which had a huge impact on the jury's perception of things. At a pretrial hearing, we had gone over about 110 documents that I wanted to present at the trial. She vetted about 40 as admissible at the hearing, but at the trial she only let me submit about 4. Defendants were allowed to submit a SECOND expert witness, both of whom worked for the Sonoma County Sheriff's Office. The first was Andrew Cash. The second was James Naugle who had been disclosed literally a week before trial, without a report, and without allowing me to take his deposition. She refused to allow me to ask Mr. Naugle about case laws, or about information pertaining to the carotid hold. The Court refused to summon any of my treating physicians, whom I had provided the names and contact information for in my disclosures at the end of Discovery and some in my initial disclosures, and I had complied with Mr. King's written requests for information or objected within the boundaries of the laws (which I quoted and cited), in good faith, and complied with the Court's orders, in good faith.
I had informed the Court that I was scheduled for medical evaluations for brain injury AFTER THE TRIAL. The Court completely ignored this.
So it was my word against theirs. 5 years, at the time of the mistrial, to get a mockery of a trial, and have the jurors' time completely wasted. The jury wrote me a letter thanking me or something, but awarded me nothing.
I was diagnosed with organic brain injury after the trial. I had a similar test prior to the incident and had absolutely no problems and answered every question with no trouble. I now score in the FOURTH PERCENTILE on those areas.
Despite its length, this has been a short summary of all the events over the past 6 years. Much has been summarized, and much has been left out. I tried my best to balance completeness with leaving out irrelevant details.
There is no record of any misconduct on the part of anyone involved in this that is available to any law enforcement agencies or to the public. Nobody has been disciplined. No investigation was ever conducted. I was almost killed and was seriously injured, under a camera, and in front of witnesses, and spent 6 years working with the government. The government has done precisely NOTHING.
The County now routinely retaliates against me whenever we interact, in blatant violation of various laws.

This is a weekly thread for those who haven't been diagnosed, but still have questions about the diagnostic process. Please read the posting guidelines and rules! Everyone is welcome to contribute, and this is a safe space.
____________________________________________
Please read this before posting as it may answer some of your questions:
If you use the search bar at the top of Reddit and make sure it’s set to lupus, it will search just the subreddit for your keywords. That way you can get the full breadth of questions and answers. This isn’t to say that you can’t ask questions in the general forum.

ANA tests

Positive ANA does not equal lupus! While more of a rule out screening (negative ANA = very unlikely to have SLE). Upwards of 15-20% of healthy individuals in the population at large will have a positive ANA. Only about 10-15% of people who have a positive ANA will later be diagnosed with SLE.

Tests used in diagnosing lupus

• anti-dsDNA - anti-Double Strand DNA is sometimes automatically tested for, but may need to be ordered separately. This test, when highly positive (2-3 times max cut off at least) is almost exclusively seen in SLE. However, only about 30% of SLE patients have this antibody. It's great if it's there to confirm diagnosis, it does not rule out diagnosis if it is absent.
• ENA Panel - Extractable Nuclear Antigen panel, usually automatically done if ANA comes back positive
• anti-Sm - Anti-Smith. Typically included in the ENA panel. This is another antibody, that when highly positive, almost always means SLE, but only about 25% of SLE patients have this antibody.
• RNP - Anti-Ribonucleoprotein. Typically included in the ENA panel
• anti-chromatin - Anti-chromatin is a relative newcomer in diagnostic testing for SLE and probably will NOT be ordered automatically. Its exact utility in diagnosis is still being determined.
• Apl panel - Antiphospholipid Antibody Panel, which consists of 3 tests:
  • LA - lupus anticoagulant
  • aCL - anti-cardiolipin antibodies
  • Anti-β2GP - anti-beta 2-glycoprotien antibodies
• CBC - Complete Blood Count, some abnormalities in WBC, RBC and PLT counts can be significant.
• CMP - Comprehensive Metabolic Panel, here the doctors are generally looking for kidney dysfunction (GFR, BUN/CR).
• ESR - Erythrocyte Sedimentation Rate, this is a nonspecific inflammation marker.
• CRP- C-Reactive Protein, another nonspecific inflammation marker.
• C3 - Compliment C3
• C4 - Compliment C4
• CH50 - Compliments, Total, these are part of the compliment system, which is a tertiary part of the immune system.

Also, if you suspect you have a rash, getting a biopsy of it done at a dermatologist’s office can be helpful as the pathologist can identify histological evidence of lupus.

Diagnostic Process

ACR Diagnostic Criteria on lupus wiki
The rheumatologist/PCP will take a detailed history. I highly recommend writing down as many of your symptoms as possible, especially focusing on the symptoms you have that are in the American College of Rheumatology diagnostic criteria for lupus - see link above.
Include all your symptoms, but I would make those at the top of the list. Write down how long they’ve been going on, anything that makes them better or worse, and how much they impact your life. Do they prevent you from dressing yourself, eating/cooking, bathing yourself, doing hobbies, meeting your obligations?
ANA varies from person to person and doesn’t necessarily correlate with disease activity. Anti-dsDNA is more indicative of disease activity and can be elevated prior to and during a flare. Symptoms can also come and go, and over time you may develop additional symptoms. If you scroll through the last week of posts or so, there are a few posts that will have pretty detailed answers to your questions from multiple community members so you can get a better sense of just how full on fickle lupus can be.
Here are some good posts, one is other people experiences in general, the others are rashes (warning: some are particularly severe):
User community diagnosis experiences
This is a malar rash
Photosensitive Lupus Rash
SLE Malar rash

FT: Oakland Roots SC 1-0 New Mexico United

Scorers: Rodriguez 63'
Venue: Pioneer Stadium, Heywood, CA
Attendance: 4,695
Match Official: Elijio Arreguin
TEAM SHEET

• Oakland Roots (5-3-2)

Starting XI: P. Blanchette (GK); E. Rito, E. Klimenta, D. Barbir, T. Morad, G. Diaz (YC 86', Sub 90+3'); N. Matsoso (YC 53', Sub 86'), I. Donasiyana, L. Mfeko (Sub 90+3)'; D. Formella (As. 63'), A. Pelaez (Sub 62')
Subs: T. Bailey (GK), K. Wright (Sub 90+3'), J. Nane (Sub 86'), T. Reid (Sub 90+3'), N. Hackshaw, J. Rodriguez (Sub 62', G 63'), B. Tamacas

• New Mexico Utd. (3-4-3)

Starting XI: A. Tambakis (GK); W. Seymore, K. Ryden, A. Yearwood; H. Swartz, S. Hamilton, C. Wehan, J. Portillo (YC 51', 2YC 71'); A. Moreno, G. Hurst (Sub 64', 2YC 84'), S. Moar (YC 14')
Subs: F. Parker (GK), J. Suggs (Sub 74'), S. Rivas (Sub 74'), J. Dolling (Sub 64'), K. Colonna, J. Sosa, D. Bruce
MATCH EVENTS
0': Kickoff!
14': S. Moar (NMU) goes into the book for a foul on Emrah Klimenta.
22': C. Wehan (NMU) sees yellow for a challenge on Lindo Mfeka.
29': Zack Prince (NMU) is booked, after dissenting with the referee.
45': 3 minutes added on.
HT: OAK 0-0 NMU
46': Second half kickoff!
51': J. Portillo (NMU) sees a yellow card, fouling Napo Matsoso.
53': N. Matsoso (OAK) is the first Oakland player to get a yellow, for kicking the ball away after the whistle.
62': OAK substitution 1/5: J. Rodriguez comes on for A. Pelaez.
63': GOAL for the Roots! Dariusz Formella rounds Tambakis before cutting back to Jonathan Rodriguez, who fires past several defenders to break the deadlock. OAK 1-0 NMU
64': NMU substitution 1/5: J. Dolling replaces G. Hurst.
71': J. Portillo sees a second yellow card for a challenge on Napo Matsoso from behind! New Mexico are left with 10 men on.
74': NMU substitutions 2/5 & 3/5: J. Suggs replaces S. Moar, and S. Rivas replaces A. Moreno.
78': NMU substitution 4/5: D. Bruce comes in for C. Wehan.
84': G. Hurst (NMU),oddly enough, sees a second yellow card from the bench! A member of the New Mexico coaching staff was booked just before Hurst.
86': G. Diaz (OAK) picks up a yellow card from Harry Swartz.
86': OAK substitution 2/5: J. Nane comes into the game for N. Matsoso.
90': 4 minutes added on.
90+3': OAK substitutions 3/5 & 4/5. T. Reid replaces L. Mfeka and K. Wright replaces G..Diaz in the dynig minutes of the game.
FT: OAK 1-0 NMU

Brethren,
I have a family situation I’m in need of some counsel on. I have a close family member who has asked me several times what I think about him becoming a Mason. And to tell you the truth, he is a great man with a heart of gold, but I’ve always been hesitant to really encourage him because he’s battled a pretty heavy substance abuse problem.
I go back and forth with this, and struggle immensely. Were it not for that, I think he would be a perfect candidate, and I would sponsor him in a heartbeat. But, because of this, I struggle for 2 reasons: 1. I wouldn’t want him to be around any social drinking amongst brothers (at least with my lodge, it’s an open bar) and 2. I fear he could cause trouble were he to relapse again, regardless of whether it was with brothers or not.
Put another way, a sober him joining would be good for him and good for the craft, but if at any point he were to fall off the sobriety train, it would be catastrophic to him and potentially damaging to his lodge.
Now, I’m not in Southern California-I left when I became an adult and have never set foot in a lodge there. But what I am wondering is is there any lodge in the area (he goes back and forth between San Diego and LA) that’s explicitly dry, and preferably for brothers who are sober?
And if there is, should I encourage him to reach out to them? That would be the extent since I have no ties to California lodges, my contribution would basically be “I have brothers who think this lodge would be a fit, give them a call.” Those brothers would of course have the vote, but I’m wondering if I should put everyone in that position in the first place.
As a little bit more background, this person had a moderate substance abuse problem in his late teens/early 20’s, and he then sobered up when he had a kid. And he was a fantastic person, a doting father, all around wonderful person. It was also then that he first started talking about Masonry (I had yet to become one then, we both speculated joining together). Then right around when he hit 30 he relapsed and it was BAD for a few years, as in if I was ever home for a visit my free time was spent driving around LA’s various homeless camps looking for him. He got sober again last year and is now trying to rebuild his life, and has started asking about Masonry again since I became a Mason in the meantime. My response has always been to focus on himself first before he takes on something like that.
So what does everyone think? Should I encourage him to reach out to a lodge and let them decide if he has a path forward? Or should I encourage him to look somewhere else?
Of course, this is all predicated on me having a lodge to recommend-any kind of social drinking/substance use would be an absolute nonstarter for him.

Hello there! My name's Blue, I'm 23, and I'm non-binary (they/them).
I'm a DM that's looking for a party of people that will be cooperative, fun, and generally speaking easy to get along with. I hope this post attracts people that aren't afraid of prioritizing fun over strict rules and the like. The kind of environment I want to foster is one that is comfortable, and happy. Which is why I have made the decision to make this game LGBTQIA+ exclusive, as I want to make sure this is a genuinely pleasant experience for everyone involved.
I will be accepting 5-6 players, and if a player happens to have a friend or person they would like to join with, I'll be happy to speak to them directly through discord.
The days I am available are generally flexible, but my ideal days are (I will be using EST for my own sake, as that's generally the time I operate):
Monday - 6:30pm EST
Wednesday - 7:00pm EST
Friday - 7:30pm EST
Thursday - 1:00pm EST (Definitely more flexible)
Sunday - 1:00pm EST (Definitely more flexible)
So, going from here, I'll be talking more about the game!
Story's Beginning:
The beginning of this campaign will start with the party pretty much at rock-bottom. Having adventured together for around about a month now, jobs have been few, and we'll begin the journey after having a job slip through their finger-tips. As is the life of the usual common low-level adventurers, am I right? But, with a little bit of player luck, you guys find yourself under the employ of a scholar, one that has quite the proposition, as follows:
Dearest Adventurers,
My name is Orion Goodmorning, I come from a University up north, and I seek a group to bring me to a location further south. Unfortunately, due to the mountainous region being more dangerous than I, myself, am equipped to handle, I cannot journey to my destination on my own... As for the location and my intentions, I seek a ruin; my intention?... This I cannot quite disclose. Do forgive the unprofessional approach to that exact matter, but my trust wears thin, as does time.
As this does come with a level of uncertainty on my end, I am willing to offer compensation befitting such a job.
150gp per adventurer. You and your party will receive 50gp at the beginning of our travels, upon meeting. You may consider this a deposit. This is the type of gold a common worker wouldn't see in their lifetime! I will also pay for things such as accommodation, as well as breakfast and supper at any Inn we happen to stay in before our travels to the Azera Pass.
Thank you for your cooperation.
P.S. No members of The Black Hand! I seek adventurers the likes of which belong in stories, not criminals that belong behind bars!
​
So, some nerd wants to be accompanied to an unknown ruin, further down south, seems to have neglected the length of travel, but seems to have the gold to compensate... Almost seems too good to be true. But who's going to scoff at 50gp right up front?... What could go wrong?
I will be talking more about my world, the places within it when I have decided on players, and the like. The world itself will be high-fantasy with a lot of places to explore, but with a fun story, and lots of interesting, creative set-pieces to set the world apart, and chances to find interesting things, side-quests & more!
​
If you are interested, fill in this form! https://forms.gle/rQzxGxxLf1gKo9wF6
Speak to you soon, adventurer!
​
Edit: Thank you for the responses! I'll be responding as soon as I can!

It’s a normal day in Neo-Midway. In the back alley, a gun fires off, a sparkling white pearl necklace shattered as another orphan is made. Police cars blare, cars hovering parallel the street, attempting to make their way to Midway’s First Local Bank before the robotic menace known only as Rog is able to escape. In the robot’s claw-like hands is cash and small trinkets from the bank’s safe deposit boxes.
A few blocks away, a neon sign for a bar known for its shady clientele reflects the rain, a river of blood, grime and water begins to run out of the back alley into the streets.
The low humming of the sign begins to go in and out, the bright lights flickering in the process. No one notices or cares. It’s just another faulty piece of technology in a city full of it. Most of all, no one is looking in the bar’s side alley.
In the side alley, the finger to a green hand begins to materialize. Then the whole hand appears, followed by an arm, and then the rest of a body. When it is all said and done, the body is that of an alien looking fellow, one with big bug eyes and two antennas,and a hard pen outline around his body no matter how you look at him. His name is Irwin Schwab.
Irwin’s first thought is that he is cold. He had no clothes on when he jumped away from that strange grouping of heroes only a few hours ago, and now, with the cold rain of a dark, draft city hitting his skin, he can feel himself shivering.
His second thought is one of frustration. Why did he have to pass out when he landed in the previous show? It cut into his precious time, and almost got him killed. Now, Irwin has to collect the damn people before he could make the jump out of this world.
Irwin can’t curse his luck enough. He did everything right. Irwin realized early on he needed another person in order to backtrace to their Earth and away from the interconnected world of multiversal tv shows. Wanting to ensure that whomever he picked would be able to help fight for their freedom, Irwin picked a team of superheroes. It should have been simple, jump to the set of Doom Patrol, grab the cast, and jump out. They’d be gone before whoever runs this network of mind-controlled multiversal puppets found out Irwin’s plan. He miscalculated the jump though, and ended up knocked out due to falling a good few hundred feet. By the time he woke, the order from the network for Doom Patrol to be rebooted was already in, and there was nothing else Irwin could do but try again.
Irwin walks to the front of the building, a single plan in his mind. Find out which of the Doom Patrol is part of this show, and where the hell they are. The bar’s door opens with a creak. Teeth chattering, Irwin asks, “Does anyone here have a newspaper I can borrow, and possibly a shirt?”
—--------

Doom Patrol Beyond Presents:

The Truth Revealed

Created by: u/DarkLordJurasus
Produced by: u/MajorParadox and u/ericthepilot2000
Perry Mcfadden rides into the old, decrepit Doom Manor, his face contorted behind his red and white half face mask. Riding onto the shattered concrete of the driveway, Perry stops his motorcycle with a skid, shutting it down and jumping off.
He walks into the decaying halls, the flickering lights of ancient bulbs illuminating his way. Perry’s hands are balled into fists, the white pupiless eyes created by the tech in the mask sharply looking forward, each step calculated.
His footsteps aren’t quiet, in truth they are loud enough to be mistaken for that of a soldier marching into war. It doesn’t matter. The only other inhabitant of the manor will not hear the steps, the old man’s mind far too engrossed in the security cameras of the city, sitting, watching for any more crime.
Bam
Perry slams the door open, his eyes focusing on the weathered body of Niles Caulder. Niles sits in his wheelchair, his back arched, eyes quickly glancing around as his fingers rapidly tap the keyboard below him.
Not even glancing back at the young teen in his room, Niles says, “Your patrol doesn’t end for another hour and a half.”
Barely containing the fury laced into his voice, Perry responds, “We need to talk.”
Niles puts up a hand, waving Perry off, “Yes, yes. Of course. We will talk once your patrol is over. There is a disturbance on fifth street, Rog is robbing a series of banks and seems to have been made bullet proof.”
Something breaks inside Perry as his eyes change from white to blue. He marches over to Niles and spins the Professor’s wheelchair around until the two are looking at each other, Perry’s glowing eyes meeting the sunken, dead eyes of Niles Caulder.
Perry booms, an otherworldly echo enhancing his voice, Perry growls, “We need to talk now!”
Niles nods nonplussed by the whole situation, “So, you finally learned the truth.”
The static electricity in the room increases as Perry asks, “When were you going to tell me? I had a right to know who my father was, that me gaining my powers wasn’t an accident.”
Niles merely shakes his head, “It didn’t matter.”
Floating a bit off the ground, Perry screams, “It doesn’t matter? It’s my life! You had no right to lie to me.”
Niles yells back, “What is one life versus the lives of billions?”
Niles closes his eyes and takes a breath, “Everything I did, from leaving you as an orphan, to setting up your close encounter with the same spirit that gave you father his powers, was to prepare you to become a hero. The world needs the Doom Patrol, and I ensured that the legacy of the team would live on past my own demise.”
Landing, Perry turns around and walks out the door, not another word being muttered by the son of Larry Trainer.
The room goes silent for a moment, Niles sighing to himself, regretting what he had to do. It’s not that Niles doesn’t feel guilty for his actions, but its that the good of the many sometimes outweighs the good of the few. A new Negativeman was needed, especially if Niles is correct about himself not being a part of this world any longer.
Niles turns back to his screens, but instead of looking at the security cameras, he pulls up an old show, a superhero cartoon called Ambush Bug. He watches one of the eleven minute episodes of the fourth wall breaking hero where the hero defeats a villain with his signature teleportation powers.
The whole time Niles watches the room from the corner of his eyes. Seeing a shadow move, he smiles, it’s time.
Niles calls out, “Come out Irwin, I believe it is time for us to go.”
As Irwin leaves the shadow, he can’t help but say, “I feel like there is a whole page on TV tropes on why the greater good philosophy sucks. Lying and manipulation only ever leads to pain.”
Niles nods, “It’s what the producers wanted though. I had to play along with the script.”
“So, you remember?” Irwin asks.
“Not at first.” Niles admits, “At first I was merely trying to figure out who gave me the slip, but the company behind it must not have been as thorough as they thought as the security footage of the manor still had the footage from our chance meeting. Watching it jogged my memories, and made me realize just how bad of a situation I was in.”
“Hopefully we won’t be in this situation for much longer,” Irwin responds, “Once I grab you and the rest of your team, we can leave this screwed up labyrinth of melodrama and comedy, and get back to your Earth.”
Smiling, Niles says, “Lead the way.”

DCFU Presents:

The Negative Man

Created by: u/DarkLordJurasus
Produced by: u/MajorParadox and u/ericthepilot2000
Midway City, a dumping ground for the worst of the worst. It’s a city infested by the low life of the world, gangs and villains control the six boroughs that make up the city, gang wars constant. For one Larry Trainor, this is his haunt. It’s been a year since he returned to the city, and in that time he’s been busy.
Larry watches from up in the night sky a series of men walking something off the boat. These men work for the Puzzler, the newest in a series of villains who have tried making Midway their territory. Larry though has a personal desire to see Puzzler defeated. Since setting up shop in Midway, Puzzler has gone on to do a series of increasingly violent attacks, each one leaving a puzzle to be solved that will give a hint to his next crime. Puzzler has made it clear, the attacks only end when the puzzle of who Negativeman is has a solution.
One of the men is barely able to hold onto his box of weapons, his arms shaking so much. A small stutter in his voice, he asks out loud, “W-What happens if Negativeman shows up?”
The guy next to him whispers, “Shut up!” urgency clear in his voice. The people of Midway are superstitious, one of the largest being that if you say the name of the hero, he will appear like a spectre from the great beyond.
The man seemingly in charge lights a cigarette, the red burning of the blunt contrasting the cold, dark, raining city. “I don’t give two craps about that freak, the Puzzler will make sure that thing gets what is coming to him.”
Larry remains motionless, watching the scene. This many years later, this amount of time away from Midway, the word freak still haunts him. It still reminds him of what his father said to him the day of his death.
—-----------------
Larry was 17 when it happened. A large fire struck the apartment complex his family lived in, his mother, his father, himself, and his dog. The family began to run outside as smoke entered their room, the whole building in a mad dash to escape before they went up in flames.
It was only when all three of the Trainors were outside that they realized that their dog was still stuck in the burning building. With no firemen around, the family knew that they would either need to run in themselves, or let the dog die.
Larry was quick to volunteer. His powers would allow him to breath in the smoke easily, and his enhanced strength would make getting through any obstacles easy. His parents refused. He can still remember the sharp voice of his dad as he told Larry that it would be easy for others to realize he has powers if he goes out, and the last thing he wants for his son is to be different.
His father ran back into the building to save the family’s dog, his mother holding him back, insisting that keeping the illusion of normalcy was more important than saving the life of their pet, or even saving the life of their father. That people will hate him if they see he is different.
Larry watched his father run into the building moments before it collapsed, neither his pet or his father ever coming out.
—-------------
Larry is brought out of his thoughts as a bolt of lightning strikes behind him, illuminating the sky in white for only a moment.
The man in charge must have seen him as he immediately holds up his hand, indicating for the men with guns to get ready to shoot. A moment passes before the man takes the cigarette out of his mouth and asks, “Who’s there?”
In a low gravelly tone, Larry responds with a single word, “Justice.”
The effect is instantaneous, boxes drop to the floor as bullets are fired out of guns, the muzzles lighting up as rounds of lead are released.
Larry closes his fist, and charges up radioactive energy. The first round reach him, most of them way off their marks. A single bullet gets close, skimming the white bandages he uses to cover his face.
As the second round almost reaches him, Larry releases the stored up energy in a bolt of blue lightning. The lightning ricochets off of the nearest bullet, hitting each bullet in rapid succession, blowing them up in the process.
Eyes widen in shock below Larry as shrapnel rains down on the Puzzler’s goons. Any that survived the shrapnel immediately begin to run, weapons left behind in the scramble.
Larry lands in front of the leader of the men. In fear, he drops the cigarette to the ground, the last bit of smoke leaving as the fire is distinguished.
Taking a step back, the man pleads to Larry, “Listen, I can get you anything you want. Drugs, info, goods, its all possible, just give me the word.”
Silently, Larry grabs the man by the throat and says, “I only want one thing, peace.” Larry throws the man hard, his face slamming against the wood of the pier as he slams into the ground. Pain blossoming from his injured left eye and broken nose, the man passes out.
Behind Larry, Irwin and Niles appears, the other men either bleeding to death from the shrapnel, or long gone by now.
Niles looks at the carnage. He knows the universe reboots the personalities inside the shows to make them work with the universe, but it is still hard for him to see the Larry Trainor he knew being behind this type of violence. “Are we sure we are in the right show?”
As Larry turns to look at the strange new voice, Irwin responds, “Despite looking like something Rob Liefeld or Frank Miller would imagine, I can assure you this is the right place. My best guess is that they wanted a dark and edgy reimagining of the characters.”
Double taking at seeing the animated figure and the wheelchair bound man talking so nonchalantly about the scene as if it was a story, not something real, Larry asks, “Who are you two?”
Niles responds, “My name is Niles Caulder, and I’m here to talk to you about the Doom Patrol.”

ElastiWoman Presents:

The Final Battle Part 1

Created By: u/DarkLordJurasus
Produced By: u/MajorParadox and u/ericthepilot2000
Two years ago, my husband and I tried to extend our business into the field of clean energy using a specially devised Particle Accelerator. Everything went wrong though when a recently fired scientist named Jonathan Dubrovy sabotaged our invention, leading to the Particle Accelerator exploding. Since that night, metahumans have begun to pop up all over Midway City, created by the very dark matter that our machine gave off. To make up for our companies’ mistakes, and save the people of the city, I began to fight crime using my new ability to stretch my limbs to lengths once thought impossible. I became, Elastigirl.
—----------------------------
Rita walks into the old Mento Labs, her arm stretched out and dragging behind her. Entering the main lab where Steven is waiting for her, she asks, “What happened?”
One of the other scientists working with the duo responds, “Dubrovy seems to have figured out a way to create essentially an air acid. It burned through the elasticity of your arm, leaving it to collapse under its own weight. It should heal soon enough, but it seems like Dubrovy isn’t going to be able to be taken down through merely stretching.”
Another one of the scientists goes, “It’s insane, including this new compound, we have seen him control 104 unique elements.”
The first scientist snaps his fingers, “Mr. 104, that’s a good villain name.”
Getting his crew back on track, Steven asks, “Is there any possible way for us to counteract the effects of the new element? Possibly a chemical compound or something?”
Leaving the three scientists to talk, Rita leaves the room, her arm continuing to drag behind her. In moments like this, she curses that she went into advertising and marketing in college. It’s hard to be the only one in a room not understanding what the others are talking about.
Slowly, she makes her way through the hallway to the visitor area of the labs. Before she can pass the hidden supply closet where Jonathan hid all his plans to sabotage the Particle Accelerator, Steven runs after her, catching up with her in the hallway.”
“Hey,” he asks, concern clear on his face, “Are you okay?”
Rita turns around, wincing from the pain of moving her outstretched arm, “Yea. It’s just…it’s crazy. Since the accident, it's like the world has turned on its head, it’s like this isn’t even the world we are from anymore.”
Steven kisses Rita on the head, “I know how you feel, I feel it too. Like everything is changing faster than we can keep up.”
Rita nods, “I’m just scared that nothing will be the same.”
Holding Rita in his arms, Steven replies, “As long as we are together, we can weather anything.”
As the two hold each other, the lights around them begin to figure as three figures enter the building.

Doom Patrol Go Presents:

Pancakes

Created By: u/DarkLordJurasus
Produced By: u/MajorParadox and u/ericthepilot2000
With the so far acquired members of the Doom Patrol, Irwin prepares for one more jump. Grabbing a hold of Larry, Niles, Steven, and Rita, Irwin focuses his mind on Robotman before teleporting away.
The whole team arrives in a giant tower, childlike versions of the team running around. In the corner, child Steven is running away from child Rita yelling about Cooties, while at a table, child Larry is tugging over a pizza box with a child version of Niles Caulder.
A full size version of Robotman sits there, entirely motionless until he sees the team. Immediately, he begins to move, saying, “Thank god you guys are here. I don’t think I could have taken these buggers singing about pancakes one more time before I lost whatever the AI equivalent of sanity is.”
As Robotman walks over to the group, child Niles who must have been listening to Robotman pipes up, “Pancakes?”
Suddenly, all four children begin to sing the word pancake over and over again, their key entirely off.
Holding onto all of the Doom Patrol, Irwin jumps out, not before Robotman yells, “Sayonara you Nick Jr. rejects.”

Doom Patrol #3- Rebooted

Author: u/DarkLordJurasus
Book: Doom Patrol
Arc: Another Superhero Story?
Set: 83
A Retconn Production
Somewhere out of reality, a quivering man waits to be able to talk to the CEO of the largest television production company in the entire multiverse. The man knocks on the tinted glass door, papers shaking in his other hand. He knows the CEO won’t be happy with the news, and the one who brings the CEO bad news is liable to become the main character of their own show, usually a horror-thriller with a lot of gore and torture porn involved.
An echoey voice, one ethereal in tone, booms out, “Come in.”
The man walks in, legs almost giving out with each step he takes into the room. He stares into the white void given form that is the CEO. The man looks near where he hopes the CEO’s eyes are, no distinct physical features clear on the being’s form.
Glowing white fingers tap on a wooden desk as time ticks by. “Well,” the CEO demands, “Out with it.”
The man stutters to get his words out, “Well, uh, Mr. Disappointment sir, the Doom Patrol have escaped their new series.”
Mr. Disappointment slams his hands down on the desk, the quivering man pissing himself at the noise, “How is that possible? No one escapes Retconn!”
Meekly, the man responds, “I-It was Ambush Bug. He showed up to each of their reboots and teleported them out of there.”
Mr. Disappointment rises out of his seat, “I knew that pest would get in our way. I did say that, didn't I?”
Not knowing if the CEO did say it, but not wanting to contradict him, the man responds, “Oh yes sir. I remember you saying it clearly sir.”
Mr. Disappointment ignores the employee as he continues, “But the board ensured me that the little self aware main character wouldn’t be an issue. That there was no way for him to escape back into the multiverse proper.”
The man fervently nods along until Mr. Disappointment stops. Knowing he has to get Mr. Disappointment’s signature, and that this is his best chance, the man pushes, “Sir, we have a strike team waiting to recapture the Doom Patrol and mindwipe them of the whole situation.”
Mr. Disappointment nods, or what the man assumes is a nod, and gestures to bring the papers over. As the CEO grabs a pen, he stops himself, “This is going to be expensive isn’t it?”
Not waiting for a response, Mr. Disappointment continues, “And then we will need to pay set designers to build a whole new fake world for them, and writers to plan out personalities and create new side characters. Don’t even get me started on the cost of building fake people to flesh out the supporting cast.”
Putting down his pen, Mr. Disappointment makes a decision, “They are doing most of the job for us. We don’t have to create personalities or conflicts as those are built into everyday life. All we got to do is record it, maybe throw a villain or two down to that earth to beat up, and boom we got a reality show. Call it, Dallying along with the Doom Patrol or something like that.”
Getting more excited from the idea, Mr. Disappointment finishes his thought, “Hell, if the show has appearances by other heroes on their earth and the audience likes them, we can send down more cameras to their reality and make another show for essentially free.”
The employee curses himself, he doesn’t want to make Mr. Disappointment upset, but the flaw in his plan seems clear, “Ambush Bug escaped because he didn’t want to be on a show? What will stop him from trying to stop this new show?”
Mr. Disappointment answers, “That’s the best part. They won’t realize it is a show. To them, we are sending villains to capture them and bring them back here. They won’t know it is being recorded for the enjoyment of multiversal beings.”
Mr. Disappointment snaps his fingers, “Go get me the paperwork needed to make this new show idea a reality.”
The employee runs out of the room leaving Mr. Disappointment alone. Doing the equivalent of a smile that he can do on his mouthless face, Mr. Disappointment says to himself, “Looks like the Doom Patrol are returning to Earth 621.”

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