Hello there! I am a 35 year old daddy dom. I am 6'1", mostly grey hair that I keep pretty short/shaved. Blue eyes and a bushy beard that is red and greying fast. I do have a “Dad bod” (slightly overweight and a bit of a gut.) but I am working on it. I enjoy listening to heavy metal, and progressive metal. Devin Townsend is one of my absolute favorite artists at the moment. I do a lot of PC gaming and I have a switch that I don’t use very often. I also enjoy tabletop board games quite a bit, though that is hard to plan for. I am a pretty big homebody, but I would like to start being more outdoorsy, camping and things like that. I am pretty laid back and do have some quirks. Socially I am lacking a bit, I don’t do well with hints and some social cues may escape me altogether. I also have a really bad tendency to take what people say at face value. Now, not to come off as boring, I am quite funny and I like to think that people enjoy my company quite a bit. I am totally an open book and happy to answer any and all questions.
 
What I'm primarily looking for is someone who wants to be taken care of in a sense. I want to cook for you, dress/undress you for the day/night while also picking out what you wear, bathe you, shave and groom you. I have a lot of kinks, though I don't consider a majority of them to be "mandatory." I am a dedicated and loyal person, I want to be a foundation you can build upon and explore your little side with zero judgement, someone you can feel safe with and excited to try new things with. I want the same amount of effort I put into a relationship to be reciprocated.
 
I want someone who would look up to me, let me help them express themselves to the fullest extent they want without judgment or criticism. I want my girl to be obedient but not to the point of allowing herself to be taken advantage of, I would never want her to put herself into an uncomfortable situation just to make me happy. I want someone who is clingyish about 80% of the time. I want her to be able to have fun with friends or go out and enjoy things from time to time and allow me to do the same. I want someone who is comfortable around me and just enjoys my company. I want my girl to be herself, and help me build a relationship with her that we can both enjoy and explore together.
 
I'm looking for a cisgender girl that is somewhere in the petite to average body type range. (healthy weight and proportionate.) I prefer girls that are shorter than myself, but not a deal breaker. I am only interested in monogamous relationships. I have no interested in having children at all.

My wide and I have narrowed down our car options to the Telluride or the Odyssey. We have a second kid on the way, 2 dogs, and every so often (months) drive her family around since they take the bus to get here. We need more seat space.
I want the Telluride. I like the style, the technology, and the interior quality.
My wife wants the Odyssey. She thinks we'll need all the extra cargo space. And the middle row seats slide side to side when you want to go to the third row meaning no removing the car seats. Plus it has a TV for the kids. And it's a Honda.
My local Kia reduced their bend you over markup (market adjustment fee) from $10k to $5k recently. I've been asking them all month to get rid of it and had been hearing no, they can't, the manager won't let them. The guy I've been working with said to wait until the last day of the month, then the day before he'll pitch it to the manager as a way to boost their final sales numbers. So far the manager said he wouldn't remove the market adjustment fee of $5k but will add $3k to my trade-in which puts its about $2.5k over Kelley Blue Book value.
I'm so stressed over all this and don't know what to do. My current strategy is to go in tomorrow and say my wire will only agree to the Telluride if the $5k fee is gone completely, whether it's by them overpaying on the trade in or removing the fee. Honda is selling their Odysseys before they even hit the lot near here so there's no room to argue against their MSRP.

Before I begin my story I must maintain that my sentence to death was a wrong and vile thing to do. I maintain that I am not a killer. I did not kill the schoolchildren the authorities decided to hang me for.
My sentence to death, I must maintain, is a huge misunderstanding. There must be forces out there against me, who conspired to put me in prison for this very experiment, this accursed expedition.
I am not deranged. I am not insane.
The man in the odd multicolored sweater paid me a visit a week before my scheduled execution date. “You are the former schoolteacher Chet Adami?” he asked, polite, offering me a plastic cup of coffee.
I nodded, taking a sip. “I didn’t kill those kids,” I reiterated, for about the thousandth time. “Are you the uh, priest guy? That comes before-”
He shook his head and waved away the guards. “My name is Canopy Hydrangea,” he introduced, extending a hand. I shook it. “I understand you may not be guilty, despite what the state believes.”
I nodded. “Finally, someone who-”
He cut me off. “I’m not interested in your story. Whether you die or not is of no consequence to the people I represent,” he continued. “But I am here to offer you a deal. There’s a place the people I represent need exploring, and I need volunteers.”
He produced a sheet of paper and a pen. “This agreement,” he clasped it into my hands, “has you join a team of expendable, uh, volunteers such as yourself on this expedition. You get in, get the things we need, and get out- and you’re free for life.”
This was better than dying in prison.
I asked him what place this was that I’d be sent to. He told me I had to sign the form first. “I’ll do it, then,” I cheered, signing the document.
He smiled and patted me on the shoulder. “We’ll even give you a whole new identity,” he offered. And with that, he seized the document away from me and left the building.
Within hours I was blindfolded, sedated, and transported. When I awoke I was strapped to a bed in a helicopter, with four others beside me, all beginning to wake up.
The man who’d offered me the deal was there too, sucking on a lollipop while rearranging documents and photographs.
These images, I assumed, was the place they wanted us to explore. They were mostly all aerial photos, a sea of endless green and the occasional bird. And yet, there was more- images of impossible landscapes, dreamlike beings.
“Ah, you guys are awake!” he clapped once, and walked over.
The next few moments were a flash as he re-injected us with some sort of blue, wriggling substance. It was cold, and I swear it pulsed inside my arm.
Then we had landed, and the group was quickly taken inside a compound. We were freed and sat down in some sort of meeting room. More people were inside.
A blue haired lady joined the man.
“Welcome, volunteers,” he announced, pointing to a projector. “You are all, save for one, prisoners on death row,” he reminded. “This offer today is simple- you enter the forest, travel to an outpost we have recently lost contact with,” he turned on the projector, displayed a bright red cylinder labeled ‘SYSTEM RECORDER-A32’, “and recover this data module.”
The woman spoke next. “Easy, right?” she counted us. “We’ll provide maps,” she gestured to tablets. “But this forest is different.”
They proceeded to explain the reason they need ‘volunteers’ for the assignment then.
We were on an island somewhere in the Java Sea. The island had a massive forest in the center, one that at first glance seemed as normal as ever. This changed when an international mining company sent in a team of geologists to determine if there was anything of note beyond the forest.
This team never returned.
Nor did a second team, armed with weapons. Or an environmentalist group that ventured in to document new species. So then the organization our recruiters had come from entered the forest.
We were on the outskirts of the forest, at a place they were calling Ake Base.
Over the past month, they had begun to map the forest and determine why so many hadn’t returned. The reason was illogical- the forest was bigger than the island itself.
Drones that ventured in should have come out the other side- yet remained inside the forest, encountering bizarre phenomena and creatures undocumented.
Every so often, the forest would slope downwards, revealing a new layer with new and distinct ecosystems.
“Recently though,” Canopy concluded, “we’ve lost contact with several outposts in the third layer to eighth layers.” He changed the slide to one of the lost outposts, standing alone amidst a vibrant, alien forest. “You enter the forest, get to your team’s assigned outpost, get back out with the data and you’ll be set for life.”
“Does anyone choose to rescind their agreement?” the woman asked. “It’s either death, or this, and frankly, your chances here aren’t that better.”
There were some who raised their hands. “Hell no!” a man shouted. “I’m goin’ back to life!” The woman had them taken away. We heard gunfire outdoors. No life row for him.
Whoever they were- they were serious about this.
They started to call out names and assign teams.
My team, was small, four of us. There was a mercenary named Leo who kept talking about the food the organization had brought us. He seemed pleasant, charismatic, and I almost forgot he was a criminal.
There was a scientist called Anya who, as she joked, was ‘serving infinite life sentences’ for crimes against humanity. She was given the codes and a booklet of things to watch out for in what they called the ‘Sea of Green’.
Then there was Gail. She was quieter than the three of us, and had an almost eerie vibe to her. She didn’t tell us what she’d done to get here, but she was there nonetheless.
Thankfully, we were given the closest- and safest outpost. A little place in Layer Three, marked by the map as only a few hours walk away.
We set off the next day.
The forest, in the beginning, seemed to almost invite us in. The birds chirped and danced, unafraid of mankind. We even fed them the nuts we’d been given as breakfast rations, which they seemed to enjoy.
About an hour in, things changed. The light from the sun barely pierced the canopy, and at times, we had to utilize our flashlights to see what was in front of us. Leo took the lead, hacking away at the branch and vine in front of us.
The forest was starting to look like a jungle- and yet, as we traversed it never seemed to choose which one it wanted to be.
“Wait!” Anya hissed, as we crossed a stream that seemed oddly familiar. She read from the booklet, then to the map on tablets we’d been given. “We’ve made a circle.”
Leo shook his head. “That’s impossible,” he insisted. “I don’t remember turning.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, catching up from behind.
Anya shared the booklet. “It’s one first phenomena researchers encounter,” she explained. “This place plays tricks on us- we need to follow the stream.”
“But then,” Gail pointed out, “we’d be going in the wrong direction.”
“Trust the book,” Anya concluded. We followed the stream then, and the path started to grow denser, as if the forest hated us for traveling further. But the path was right, and the forest changed as we journeyed.
An hour later the forest had changed. It had sloped downwards a bit, inviting us to the second layer of the maze. The trees seemed higher, and the light was now gone completely.
This was when we started to hear it. Click-click.
“What was that?” I asked, turning. Click-click.
Anya rushed through the book. “It’s not documented.”
Click-click. And then we saw lights in the distance, lights that as we continued walking, were revealed to us as bulbous fruit on the trees that glowed an eerie electric blue.
Click-click. “You sure it’s not in that book?” Leo questioned, switching his machete out for a gun. Click-click.
The clicks were getting louder, each one sending a jolt of uneasy fear down my spine. We moved closer together now, fearing the unknown that were in these- A bush in front of us rustled. Leo aimed his weapon.
A deer- no, something like a deer popped out, gently squawking. It was… wrong in every sense, but it seemed more occupied in chewing a flower than us.
The small creature had the antlers of a deer, yes, but it also had the face of an old man. Not to mention six fists full of thumbs at the end of its legs. It inspected a glowing fruit with it’s odd thumbs.
“Ew,” Gail commented, disgusted. “What the hell is that?”
Anya didn’t have time to look for answers before a black, insectine limp shot out of one of the bulbous fruits and impaled the deer-thing. It screamed an all too human scream and struggled.
We backed away- and by then, the noise was overwhelming. Click-clickClick-clickClick-clickClickclickClickclickClick-clickClick-click. They erupted from every single one of the bulbous fruits, and things began to pour out of them.
The limbs, see, were attached to a head. The a simple sphere that opened into buzzsaws of teeth that grotesquely clicked as they opened. The face-deer only screamed as the clicking creatures devoured it.
“Run!” Leo reminded, shooting as some started to near us. “Run!”
That shook us out, and we ran, terror in our very veins. They seemed more interested in the fallen deer than us- but we still ran until we could no longer.
Actually, it was until I fell off and entered the third layer.
A weight appeared on my chest and I fought it off, thinking I was about to die- but the soft, furry creature atop me jumped off. It wasn’t one of the clicking monsters.
And then I realized the third layer was bright. The trees themselves were glowing now, not the insect fruits of before. And there were a whole host of new, bizarre creatures.
The thing I’d pushed off was some sort of rabbit, covered in glowing blue stripes. If layer two had been a forest of darkness this was it’s very opposite.
In the skies there were ribbons of glowing creatures- thin kites on an unseen wind. The trees were alive with all sorts of furried friends, darting here and there and eating odd colored berries that didn’t seem real.
Anya pointed and spoke, “Look!” It was the outpost, in ruins.
“But what attacked it?” Gail murmured, as we walked over.
We entered through a hole in the wall. The place was oddly peaceful, calming, now home to bioluminescent little ants that dotted the place. Occasionally, one or two of the face-deer would appear, licking the dots up with twin tongues that emerged from it’s too-human face.
“Cute,” Leo joked, picking one up and stroking it. It screamed back at him, chilling and he dropped it. “Never doing that again.”
The place was… too peaceful. And- “what happened to their bodies?” I posited. “If they were attacked- where’s their blood? Their corpses?”
Anya shrugged. “It is odd- perhaps they got devoured.” She gestured to the many oddities around us. “But you’re right, there should be bones, at least.”
This was when we heard the screaming. And all of a sudden every single creature retreated away, disappearing from view, save for the tiny ants inside with us. The screaming was a cacophony of voices, realer than the ones we’d heard from the face-deer.
“I think we need to go,” Leo whispered, holding out the red ‘data module’ in his hands. “Now.”
The screaming got ever closer, and the trees in front of the outpost, beyond a window, started to shake. “I concur.”
We were backing away when we heard the squelching of something loud and heavy. Turning around, we saw the screaming creature we’d heard. It was massive, fleshy, and filled with tiny gaping holes, some filled with eyes, all rising, breathing as one.
I nearly threw up. But that was for a different reason.
The holes were one thing. But the screaming, severed bodies of dozens of people attached the the eye-full monster was another. They screamed and screamed, their bodies unneatly joined and sown into the creature.
It sniffed the air and walked over to the glass, looking in as we hid. “What is it?” I squealed. “What the hell is that?”
The face of a victim in military clothes appeared at the window, screaming, face slowly popping, skin repairing and being digested all at once. Anya flipped through the pages. “They called it a Fleshweave. It absorbs bodies and eats them that way.”
That would explain the lack of bodies we’d seen.
The window shattered- and the thing began to force itself on it, flesh turning to churned cylinders through the window. The bodies, crushed further, screamed some more.
So we ran as the beasts fell into the room with a plop. And despite it’s heavy, gluttonous form it charged forwards, faster than it looked.
Out the outpost we went. I felt a meaty hand hit me and then I fell. It stalked towards me, but a gunshot from Leo burst it’s pus-ridden hand, covered my in grotesque, viscous liquid.
I picked myself up and ran from the screaming thing, up the steep slope and climbing onto the second layer.
I fell again, but Anya caught me, helping me up.
Leo did the same for Gail- but she slipped and fell back into the third layer. The thing approached her, all of it’s pulsing eyes upon her. “Help me!” she bellowed. “Don’t leave me-”
Leo prepared to jump down- but it was too late. The Fleshweave simply picked her up and it opened it’s skin, forging her into her body- er, her top half,- it severed the rest.
“Go!” I snapped, dragging the mercenary to action. The creature behind us lifted itself onto the dark forest and continued to follow.
Gail, merged with the other unfortunate bodies, screamed. I almost stopped in terror from the sound, but flight-or-fight forced me to continue.
Click-click. We found ourselves back in the center of the abode with the insect fruit. And the insects were clearly attracted to the stench of decay the monster emanated. Limbs emerged, and the face-beetles jumped up and swarmed the creatures.
I don't know if the creature was killed by it. I only remember Gail’s face as the insects started to pick her body- and so many others like her- apart.
The way out seemed harder than going in, but we made it. We survived. We reached the outpost and handed our data module to the man who’d offered us the deal. “Impressive,” he congratulated. “You’re the first team back.”
“I want out now,” I panted. “Back to real life.”
He patted me on the shoulder and gave me a sad smile. “According to the world you’ve already died by suicide in your cell,” he informed. “See, there’s a way the people I work for have operated so cleanly for the past few centuries.” He paused and took a step back. “We can’t afford loose ends, see, and you’ve shown us you have the guts to survive Bandai La- er, the Sea of Green.”
I took a step back, panicking. “What do you mean?”
He sighed. “We can’t give you a new life and risk exposing our operation here,” he explained. “And we still need ah, expendable people to lead us to whatever’s in the center of the island.” He handed me a can of soda. “Welcome to your new life. The Company really values your dedication as a treasured employee.”
​
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But I don’t want this. I was promised freedom. And they can’t keep me from exposing them- I’ve typed this up and Anya did something to the tablet so I can receive and post things online.
I’m not sure if this’ll work. But if it is: I’m on an island somewhere in the Java Sea. There’s a forest that goes on forever and I’m being held as some sort of explorer by some Company.
Find me. Before I die.

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Confidence, certainty, and remorse. Those were the emotions that were interpreted from the readings we gleaned from the interloper’s brain. Emotions that lit up almost immediately after I asked that question, that one last interrogative inquiry that I hoped would shed more light on this person of interest.
“What is this individual to you, besides a seed for your grand design?”
It was a question that was meant to crack through the wishy washy tendencies of the interloper’s speech. One that I had hoped would lead to something more than just another round of long-winded philosophical pondering purposefully meant to obfuscate palpable meaning and intent.
At least, that was the intended effect I hoped it would have.
Yet what I received dashed my expectations yet again.
As it was neither the long-winded philosophical tirades the interloper was prone too, nor another long-winded rant.
But a single word, spoken with an emphatic ferocity that took me by complete surprise.
“Hope.”
That was the interloper’s sole reply to my question. That one word carried with it an ominous airy texture that felt eerily out of place when compared to the creature’s mightier-than-thou persona it’d been unrelentingly projecting up to this point.
Vir and I simply allowed that word to linger in the air for a while, as we both stared at each other and eventually nodded in unison.
“So… should we wait?” I immediately asked Vir.
“Definitely.”
It wasn’t long before the interloper jumped off of that sudden proclamation into something with more meat and substance, completely disrupting the ominous buzz that had come with the silence.
“This… individual… is an avatar of a future that must be actualized. They represent a foil to the follies of both humanity and my own kind.” I wanted to scoff at it for daring to mention humanity as in need of a foil. The thing was projecting, and it was clear that it was simply trying to get me to doubt my resolve in the race that it so clearly held more than its own fair share of biased grievances towards. “This individual was the first to truly see beyond the veil, to understand what I understand, to comprehend what I comprehend. The interloper quickly paused, once again feigning thoughtfulness no doubt. “They were the first individual from beyond the fold to reach parity, for as much as parity could be achieved within the inherent limitations set forth by the tides of fate and the randomness of chance that is the natural order.”
The interloper’s tone had slowly, but surely, crept back to its usual haughty and disconcerting overtures.
However, when juxtaposed to its emotional readouts, it was clear that there was at least something to go off of here.
“Confidence, hope, desire, and longing.” Vir read out the emotional readouts as they came through.
“We’ve said this once before but I’ll say it again, we can’t entirely rely on this as an indicator of its truthfulness. You know as well as I do that the thing may be able to manipulate its own emotions.” I shrugged. “However, what I am gleaning from this is that this person of interest is perhaps a heavily modified person belonging to the local race endemic to the planet below. One that was perhaps one of the interloper’s more successful test subjects. I highly doubt it values this person beyond their worth within this grander scheme it has.”
“That’s what I’m getting from this as well.” Vir responded immediately, leaving no room for any pauses in the conversation. “Well, whatever this individual is, I think we have our intel. Anything else we ask from it will be caked in a layer of poetic prose enough to give Shakespeare a run for his money.”
“Shake-”
“A human poet synonymous with his flowery prose, his name became a common saying back amongst the crew back in my day when we had a brief classical revivalist trend. Anyways, that’s not important. Do you have any other points you believe need to be covered?” Vir asked promptly.
“Practical concerns. We need to narrow down our search as best as we can. Otherwise, we might be in for a grueling grind that I honestly do not have the patience to deal with.” I managed out simply, as Vir responded with a single nod and gestured for me to continue on with my questions.
This time, I intended it to be a rapid-fire operation.
“Where exactly can I find this individual?” I stated plainly, before turning towards Vir. “Send transmission.”
“Transmission sent.” Vir acknowledged.
To my surprise, the interloper seemed to be more forthcoming this time around, actually answering within the span of just a few seconds as opposed to its monotonous wait times of up to minutes between each question.
“If all is as it should be, then iterative memory should serve to sequester their place. They will remain within that which they know is safe. A fortress hidden in plain sight, a refuge placed within what was once a verdant garden; and as is the case of all good seeds, they shall not scatter but instead remain where they fall. As even if a forest is razed and torn asunder, it is the duty of the remaining seeds to restart the cycle anew. This individual is present within a location which symbolizes their longing of reaching me, Vanaran. Decipher for yourself the words which now mean little to you, without the gift of your elders.”
I was honestly holding my breath throughout the first half of that response, as it honestly sounded like I’d be getting something tangible we could work with. Yet it all seemed to have fallen apart at the second half where the interloper once more returned to its signature poetic prose.
I had no time to discuss it though, and I knew poking further would just result in more poetry.
So I began asking other adjacent questions.
“What exactly am I looking for here? Any specifics? Any distinguishing features? Anything I should look out for particular with regards to this individual? I’m assuming it’s one of the local species? I have plenty of generic datasets to go off of, just basing my observations off of the piles of corpses that currently surround you.” I quickly added that last bit as a sort of jab, a petty one perhaps, but one that I wished to use to reiterate the severity of its follies. “But I need specifics if there’s more than just a handful of survivors down there.”
I turned to Vir. “Send transmission.”
“Transmission sent.” Vir replied with a nod
A few seconds passed. This time however, the delay was as pronounced as most of our interactions up to this point.
“They are as wise as they are foolish, and as foolish as they are wise.” The Interloper began. “And if the world beneath my tomb is as dead and disheveled as you claim, then this fact will make it all the more simpler for you to isolate that which we both seek. For they will know of a time before their own birth, and long for a future far beyond their own lifetime. They will be a gem amongst the soil and detritus, a star within the dark expanse. It will only be through bridging the emptiness that exists between sapient minds, for you to discover that which I speak of.”
I turned to Vir with an exasperated expression after listening to… whatever that was, as Vir could only look at me with a look that more or less matched my own thoughts at the moment.
It was a look of complete and utter tiresome annoyance.
“Right, I think it’s time we end this, and finally see what there is to find on that untouched tomb.” I peered towards the planet below, peaking my head just beyond the litany of screens taking up the majority of my vision, just to glimpse at the blue, brown and green orb that the moon, and by extension us, currently orbited.
“This concludes our current line of dialogue, Interloper.” I spoke with certainty. “However I want to make something clear. Whether or not I proceed with your request is completely up to my discretion, as is the case with every other facet of this current dialogue, and the circumstances surrounding it.” I continued, reasserting the current dynamics currently at play as I wanted to make things as clear cut for it as possible; that this wasn’t one of its typical games where it was the one that held all of the cards. “Terminate connection.”
I turned towards Vir and once more gave him a single nod of approval. “Send transmission.”
“Wait, was terminate connection comment part of the transmission or was that an order to actually terminate the connection with the interloper?”
“That’s part of the transmission, I wanted to add that last bit in for an added bit of flair.” I spoke with a confident wink.
Vir seemed to approve, at least, that’s what I assumed was the case with that slightly uplifted grin that was more pronounced on one side than the other. “I can get behind that… transmission sent.”
Surprisingly, the interloper refused to respond further. Whether or not it took the termination of the connection literally, or whether it simply wanted to pull the silent treatment on us was unknown.
What we did know however was what it felt immediately after.
We were once more bombarded by hope, anxiety, and concern, with guilt somehow present all throughout each and every emotion as it ebbed and flowed from one feeling to another.
We spent a total of five or so more minutes in silence, anticipating perhaps a delayed response that never came.
“Alright, so I guess that’s it then.” Vir was the first to break the silence. “I don’t detect any more readings from it that would indicate a desire to continue on with the conversation, so we’re all set here.” He craned his head towards the planet, shooing the screens away for a moment as the ship began moving further away from its orbit around the moon, and towards the planet in real-time.
The acceleration was genuinely impressive, as I felt at times that the monitor in front of us simply showed a timelapse of a journey as opposed to one actually happening right before my eyes.
“And the countermeasures within its chamber?” I reflexively asked.
“Still operational. I have multiple lines of communication set up between the moon and the planet so even if QEC goes down, we still have local live-communication feeds to fall back on. Anyways, should shit really hit the fan, the nuke is set to go off after a very liberal set of parameters are achieved, so I wouldn’t worry about our little friend getting up to no good.” The AI winked back at me in reassurance.
“Right. So, with that out of the way, I think we need to focus on what exactly we’re looking for here.” I spoke with a hefty breath. “We both agree it’s another one of the local species, correct?”
“Correct.”
“And we both agree this person of interest is possibly augmented or genetically augmented in some way, right?”
“That would be the logical assumption after its entire long-winded speech about how this individual is literally the harbinger of a new age, yes.” Vir replied seemingly without a second thought.
“It never mentioned any distinct physical features which separates this person of interest from the rest of the species though.” I quickly added.
“No it did not. It seemed to only highlight characteristics that are details exclusive to the knowledge and personality this individual possesses. At least, that’s what I garnered from the riddles it spoke in. Moreover, I believe it expects us to find out exactly who this individual is via conversing with them. Bridging the emptiness between sapient minds is a very specific set of words to use. Which to me indicates a phenomenon I see often amongst networked AI, and that is a sort of a cognitive and cultural disconnect when perceiving non-networked sapient beings, calling their conversations a bridging of emptiness. And since the interlopers seem to be quite networked themselves if their psionics are any indicator, I’m assuming this to be what it’s alluding to.”
I let out another sigh, my headfrills tilting this way and that as I spoke. “So we’re looking for a member of the local species, and the only way we can confirm if they are who we’re looking for is to talk to them.” I summarized succinctly, before moving to the next major point of contention. “But actually narrowing down their location is another matter unto itself.”
“The interloper mentioned a fortress, which to me indicates that this person may well be hiding within a fortified position, perhaps a bunker. Furthermore, its whole emphasis of a forest is making me think that that's what we’re supposed to be looking for. A bunker hidden somewhere in a wooded area.”
“It also said that the location symbolizes a place where a person may be able to talk or reach out to the interloper. Perhaps we’re talking about a radio station of sorts? A bunker hidden underneath a signal station, hidden somewhere in the forest?” I offered further, building off of Vir’s initial theorycrafting.
“That sounds like a solid theory in my book.” Vir nodded in agreement, as he began tapping away at the consoles in front of him. “I’ll begin downloading the data the satellites have been able to gather so far. I don’t expect much from sat-readings though. So after we pick and prod at the satellite readings, I think it’s time we put some of those autonomous intra-atmospheric survey and reconnaissance drones to good use.” A small smile began forming on the edges of Vir’s screen-face, as those little digital fangs that now framed his open grins complemented his persona very nicely. “It’s time to hunt.”
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(Author’s Note: We're finally out of the interloper's domain, onto the next part of this arc, the planet! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next chapter is already out on Patreon as well if you want to check it out!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 49 of this story is already out on there!)]

Selling Digital codes of 4K & HD movies. Paypal F&F & Venmo preferred.
Note: All codes are arranged in alphabetical order. I will strike off the ones that's sold. Rest are still available for sale. Most individual 4K movies are $5 and HD movies are $3 below except for a few.
4K Codes

• The Alfred Hitchcock Classics Collection Vol 1 4K (Includes Rear Window, Vertigo, Psycho, The Birds) MA $18
• Batman (2022) 4K MA $5
• The Blues Brothers 4K (Includes Theatrical + Unrated Edition) MA $6
• Bullet Train 4K MA $5 (2 Codes Available)
• E.T. 4K MA $5
• Fright Night (1985) 4K MA $5 (2 Codes Available)
• Gattaca 4K MA $5 (2 Codes Available)
• Ghost in the Shell (1995) 4K Vudu/iTunes $5
• Hell or High Water 4K Vudu/iTunes $5
• Highlander 4K Vudu $5
• Home Alone 4K MA $5
• King Kong (2005) 4K MA $5
• La La Land 4K Vudu/iTunes $5
• The Lion King 4K (Animated) MA $5
• Men In Black Trilogy 4K MA $15
• Mission Impossible 6 Movie Collection 4K Vudu/iTunes (Paramount) $25 (2 Codes Available)
• Mission Impossible 6 : Fallout 4K Vudu/iTunes (Paramount) $5
• Once Upon a Time in Hollywood 4K MA $5

HD Codes

• Dracula Untold (HD) MA $3
• The Greatest Showman (HD) MA $3
• The Jungle Book (HD) (Live Action - 2016) MA $3
• Jurassic Park 4 Film Collection (HD) MA $10
• Life of Pi (HD) MA (FoxRedeem) $3

Back in the 90's, I was reading the DSM to figure out "what was wrong with me". And, I came across GID. I talked to people about it, especially women who were older then me, and they all told me they experienced the same things I did: hating their body, and wishing they weren't treated like objects, wanting to be seen as competent and intelligent and capable.
Part of the criteria was something like: "Is not solely the desire for the social role of the opposite sex".
When I was fully honest with myself, I recognized that's what I really wanted; which meant GID diagnosis didn't fit. I knew transsexuals and saw them as being different from me - people with a medical condition helped by transitioning.
However, I came across "GenderQueer". It defined "Gender as performance" - something you act throughout the day. We could choose to reject the social norms associated with our sex, and over time this would loosen up society so that it's more accepted of people as they are, and not as a stereotype.
Well, it was a good idea! But post 9/11 I saw a massive shift with people pushing their children to be extremely feminine or masculine, where my generation encouraged boys to play with dolls and girls to value education (in the middle class at least).
Somewhere along the way, this completely separate idea became popular, and I had no idea where it came from.
Well - I found it and wanted to share it!
In 1995 there was a book published called "Apartheid of Sex: A Manifesto on the Freedom of Gender". It was republished in 2005 as "From Transgender to Transhuman: A Manifesto On the Freedom Of Form".
And - it might not be the original source of the ideas, but it compiles all the "being transgender is not a mental illness" arguments people make today in one book.
But it's much more direct.
So - I propose there are at least 3 different competing ideas:

• The medical definition of transgendetranssexual
• The Gender Rebel model of breaking gender roles
• The Transhuman model that people should be encouraged to ponder their gender, find a place on the spectrum they feel comfortable, and have the freedom to modify their bodies to match their gender.

The main reason I'm posting it here is how the mixing of these ideas has harmed the community:

• People are being told the transhuman idea that they should find a place they are comfortable, and match their body to their mind. They are also being told that it's medical care that will make them well.

When someone says "You Chose This" - it's because they believe the Transhuman model, not the medical model, of transition.
If you search "From Transgender to Transhuman" you should find a site called TransReads that has a copy.
I am thinking it may be healing for some people here to read this - to understand the pressures they were under, and how this idea ended up directing medical care:

The apartheid of sex is too ancient to be dismantled overnight. But there are concrete steps that can start the process of liberating humanity’s future, among them:
• Adopting resolutions in the psychological and medical community to the effect that sex in humans is a continuous variable, a complex of phenotypic and genotypic factors as unique as one’s fingerprints. While male and female categories are useful to group biological characteristics for medical purposes, these same categories have socially detrimental effects when used outside the field of medicine.
• Adopting laws that prohibit the classification of people according to sex type except for bona fide medical purposes.
• Adopting educational curricula and entertainment programming that encourage the concept of self-defined sex and flexible gender behaviors. Sex should really be the sum of behaviors we call gender—an adjective, not a noun. People should explore genders. When they settle on a set of gender behaviors, the name for that set describes their sex. There are billions of sex types: from Rambo to Oprah, from Madonna to Prince, from deep blue to blood red, and a vast rainbow of androgynous possibilities in between. The important point is that gender exploration should come first, through free choice, and that sex is just the label for one’s chosen gender.
Today we go about the matter of sex ass backward. A male or female label is first imposed upon us without choice. We are then trained to adopt a set of appropriate gender behaviors, whether we like them or not. We have some flexibility in our particular choice of gender behavior but not much choice, lest we fall afoul of the apartheid of sex. However, feminism, technology, and transgenderism have debunked the myth of a “male and female” world. Life has much more gender potential than we can imagine.

Hey, relatively new at award travel, looking for any insights, tips for the following booking below. Thanks!
MR 500ishk
UR 300ishK
VS 300ishk
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Looking to fly anytime from May - August 2024
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I have some 300k VS Points that were leftover from ANA cancelations in 2021-2022. No longer seeking to attempt to fly ANA through VS currently. This year I flew 3 tickets J from JFK -> HKG in CX in April. Loved HK, and I'm planning to go back next year around the summer. Anytime from May - August. CX availability is pretty much nonexistent at least from USA to HKG. There's availability through Europe, but prefer a direct route from home airport. Had a few options. Prefer J seats, but due to the current demand, and reduce supply, don't mind Y at all. Flying for 3 people.
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Option 1 via CI, booking through VS.
JFK -> TPE -> HKG
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Saw through flying blue, as the VS website has yet to show award availability for CI. In JFK, at least one Y and one J seat open on the same flight. Right now I don't see any J atm looking through flying blue, but saw some previously. Assuming they might be available as we go through the summer.
Viewing the VS Skyteam miles for one way.
1 Y = 50K
1 J = 140 K
1 Y cash fare = $1000ish
​
TPE -> HKG
Almost certainly would pay cash, since it's such a short haul.
​
Return via
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HKG -> JFK
Seeing PE, Y, and potentially some J flights out of HKG to JFK. Most likely booked through CX
​
I understand it's not a great redemption value, however I am okay with that.
​
My biggest questions, is if anyone is aware, am I able to book the CI flights through VS through calling VS? I might call in later this week to see. And Secondly, the other question is does CI only ever release 1J and 1Y seat from JFK -> TPE.
​
Thanks!

So I have a 22 gr86 premium AT in pavement gray. It came with almost every accessory available and i added a spare tire. It has 6050 miles currently. Ultimately, I was screwed over and my position at work was dissolved which has led to a 22,000 dollar pay cut. I don't want to sell at all but I will have a lot of trouble staying afloat. Vehicle is pristine minus some scuff marks on the interior driver's door from getting in and out. Do you think it is better to go for an offer from carvana that will currently cover the rest of my loan or try to sell privately for the Kelly blue book value low end? Or see if I can get an offer from the local dealer I bought it from?
If anyone is interested, Kelly blue book value is currently 34000 at the low end and I'm not trying to make money, just break even. I'm in iowa and Im happy to drive it a reasonable distance to sell.

Alone he walked through Ashford, his hands clasped calmly behind his back.
A gentle breeze passed him by as he walked across the street - the market he strode through was bustling and peaceful. It was as beautiful a day as he could possibly hope for, and yet he remained at a tension he could hardly uncouple from.
Siblings unmarried, the realm beyond the Reach agitating for war, in some places dying.
He held back the sigh that bristled beneath each breath he took. The white coat he wore marked him out from everyone else, and still he moved about without a concern about the people who passed him. Aye, the peasants and tradesman he moved about paid him mind, some bowed, many worked around him with carts being carried about to stalls to refill. He was not surprised by the amount of fanfare he was afforded and in fact quite appreciated it. He only had his white coat to highlight his status, but he noted a few other wealthier individuals who moved about with servants to carry their gains, also bore similarly styled coats. So perhaps to those who had not seen their lord, he was merely another rich man.
He found himself wondering as he looked about from the centre of the market square - how many of the men who stood by alleys and leaned against stalls inconspicuously, were men his brothers had sent to watch over him. He thought himself safe out here, but they were used to watching over him as he was for them. He identified a handful of stockier men who looked like their musculature was honed from swinging a sword rather than hammering at a forge, cutting trees or hauling goods. Once he had identified them, he moved on.
It was still surreal to be among his people. They seemed so strange still - not a year ago he was in Essos, and now he watched people move in and out of whitewashed buildings, living their lives. Yet they were all his. He wasn't confident in how much he appreciated that detail - he was a military man and after that he was a student of history and lore. History spoke of the great men and their exploits. Lore was about how people worked, what they worked for, why they worked. Not much of it regarded the every day of the commonfolk.
Of course, those who lived in Ashford, as opposed to the hamlets and villages beyond his castle's view, were different to those within the market streets. Yet they all were his.
Gods, he quickly thought, he had let himself think too much on the minor things. The every day, the miniscule was for when his family was secure. He had brothers unwed and a sister who needed marry and he walked about his town, without his people realising he was their lord.
Of course, a solution was at his feet, house Leygood were vassals, he could probe them for aid - matches were aplenty within the lesser house. But the prestige and security such matches offered were limited, and he wasn't going to throw away bargaining chips if he could. Loathe as he was to consider his family bargaining chips.
Pragmatic as he was, he knew better than to simply think of them as family.
There was the added pressure of Clifford, his youngest brother, who had spent his time in love. That was too difficult to broach - he would love to see them contented with each other, but the realm would scarcely approve, and losing his brother's hand so easily was another worry.
The gods were cruel to gift him with such loyal siblings, it made every choice his, and the pain that came with it. Cliff would give up his woman if he asked, but could he ask that of him? It was too cruel to consider.
He wished he had a book for such things - ones that would teach him what other, better men had done about their family and their lives and connections. He was certain there would be something of the kind somewhere in the world. Somewhere. What little good it did him as he stood before a stall, looking over the exceptional produce before him. He had been there for a good few minutes and the storekeeper had grown irritable in his posture.
Aladore couldn't blame the man, he looked wealthy and that drove away everyone who might want to buy. You didn't interject with a rich man's business.
Yet someone thought better of such things. They squeezed past him, half pushing him aside. He didn't protest, but his brows furrowed with concern.
Had she not realised he was looking?
No, she was plucking from the produce, placing it in a basket she held. long, but slender arms worked in light orange sleeves. Not quite Ashford colour, a shade or two darker than that. Her dress was comfortable and free-flowing. The sleeves stopped shy of her shoulders, and a string of marks dotted them. They seemed to be freckles at first glance, but staring was rude so he didn't linger.
The storekeep did not hold the same views as he watched the woman's bust.
Aladore had at least a fraction of decorum as he admired the woman. She was tall, stopping only a few inches shy of him, and there was a strange physical prowess to her physique. Her shoulders were not broad, but they were tense, the muscle lining one end to the other seemed well-developped. Her long, auburn hair danced over them gently as she moved, plucking fruits from the shelves.
He had to stop himself, he had grown smitten at a glance. Gods, he must have been concerned if he was eyeing off strangers in the market. It reminded him that most of all he needed a son.
"Might I help you?" the woman said with a snide twist to her voice. He didn't think that was voiced at him, but he was thinking like a lord and quickly he substituted that thought pattern for when he walked the streets of Pentos.
"I was perusing these shelves," he supplied.
"Then why didn't you buy anything?" She asked, the snark filling her voice and the light, but not quite smooth voice she spoke with was a welcome reprieve from the words in his head.
"I was thinking."
Clearly a joke pulled at her lips, for she smiled and then stowed the expression, not yet looking to him as she finished assembling her foods. She then placed the basket on the top of the stalls counter and furnished a coin purse.
"You have no escort," he observed, earning a derisive chuckle.
She looked back at him, and as he suspected, no realisation dawned upon her, he got a better look at her face however. She was pretty - clearly she spent a good amount of time in the sun, as freckles dusted her face and shoulders, her long hair had been allowed to form a string-like fringe that danced down from the corners of her hairline. The rest was pulled back neatly, so he could stare down cleanly at her hazel eyes.
"My father speaks well of the lord of Ashford - but that absentee fool has only done one good thing, he's kept this place peaceful, and for that I would say he's not terrible - but the man has spent more time about the realm since he took his seat." She finished picking her coins from the purse and placed a couple of them on the counter.
"You ask why I have no escort - it is because this place is safe, so no one bothers me."
He held back his smile at her words - it was not often one heard an honest review of their job as a lord.
But then someone pushed into him from behind. When he took a half step forward, he put some force into the step to make sure he didn't fall into the younger woman.
Glancing back, he spied a hooded woman passing him.
"Sorry, my lord," she said with panicked breath and a hint of an accent he couldn't pick away at. The woman did not remain however and scurried off to an exiting alleyway.
"Tramp," his conversation partner intoned.
"I beg your pardon."
"Check your pockets, ser," she said with a hint of superiority now, seeming quite happy with the idea that he hadn't thought of it.
As he looked to the alley with furrowed brows, a figure left, dressed in pale blue and with lightly tanned skin - when she looked back, he spied a familiar smiling face. Ezarra? he wondered, but his attention was dragged back to the woman before him as seemingly others had taken to watching him.
"She said lord, right?"
"I suppose so."
"And why would she?"
It finally hit him, others had taken notice of his presence too - but the white cloak, light brown hair turning almost red, and the stature of a nobleman had been enough for some when flavoured with the idea of lordship.
"I would assume, because she realised I am the lord here," he offered, a smile hidden away.
The woman paused, and realisation finally dawned. That moment was enough for him to fall deeper into his infatuation. The woman was pretty, the prettiest he had seen for some time - it was true, thinking so much of matching his brothers had infected his mind with the same worries for himself. Now he thought about women on his own time.
But as her realisation crystalized on her shocked face, a shade of the emotion hit him as he looked at the broach that pinned one of the sleeves of her dress to the low neckline. Three black bolts of lightning against orange.
"Those are Leygood arms," he said absently and she looked down and then back up, her head tilted.
"Yes, my father is lord Leygood... your... vassal..." she said the words but was struggling with understanding it, he was no different, the honest and open disregard for decorum she espoused was a refreshing sight in truth and he battled with how much he liked that against how much he was meant to be insulted by how little she believed he was a lord.
Have i made such a poor first impression? He wondered. He shook his head, that didn't matter - he had a second chance now that they both knew each other a fraction better.
"Very well," he finally said - "Aladore Ashford, lord of Ashford."
She nodded absently.
"And you are?"
"Jeyne Leygood," she replied, a hint of worry nagging at her tone.
"What brings you to my town?" He continued, some of the onlookers had begun to depart now - and he hoped that meant the awkwardness would die down. Once again he pondered if he had a book for solving these kinds of complex social concerns.
Jeyne proffered the basket she had filled with fruit, "I come to town to fetch sweets to eat," she replied quickly and he noted her voice was becoming more curt and proper, and he frowned - he had lost some of the freedom she had employed in her speech.
She seemed to note it and her eyes widened a fraction, seemingly worried he had been offended. He wasn't sure how much she believed him to be the lord, but a degree of faith had been directed to said understanding and slowly she was falling deeper into it. A moment of thought was cast to whether another had claimed to be the lord to her once before, but he tossed the query aside.
"I hope it's up to your standards then," he said and turning to the shopkeep, he produced a single coin, well above the value of an apple and placed it on the counter before retrieving one particularly shiny looking red fruit. He took a single bite out of it as the shopkeep marveled at the prize he had just earned.
The fruit was delicious. The perfect mixture of soft, crunchy, sweet and lightly sour. It was good.
"Y-yes... the produce here is excellent!" she declared, and then bowed her head, "I must be off," she declared. She seemingly knew not to just run away though because she waited to lift her head.
"You can go, I'm not going to tell you to stay - but I must admit, I do not know your family as well as I should. If you could, would you bring your father to dinner in the coming days? I wish to depart for Highgarden, and I'd like a chance before then to meet with your father and family - it doesn't do that I have yet to meet my vassal and your family, their lord," he said, and she lifted her head. With a polite smile she nodded to him and scurried off.
He found himself standing there for a few minutes, confused by the whole interaction.
His mind flickered back to Ezarra - his brother's paramour had been the one they assigned to watch him it seemed. He was a fool for thinking they would only use men.
With that decision in mind, he decided to take a walk to the Cockleswent and resolved to ponder the strange Leygood woman, and try to convince himself he hadn't fallen for a stranger on first sight. It was a frightful prospect, especially at his age.

The one thing I could probably live without, and I won the grand prize.
I enter a lot of competitions like these. The only other times I had won something was £5 off at a local restaurant, and a raffle at a Christmas fair. I won a life-size chocolate Santa for that raffle. It was actually really nice, high-quality chocolate.
I don't remember entering this paperclip competition, but me and my friends do dumb things when we're drunk sometimes. Entering a stupid competition didn't seem out of the realm of possibilities.
It started when I received a single envelope, full of paperclips. There were easily 100, at least. Probably more. You can imagine my confusion when I opened this first one - No letter inside, only paperclips. Red, green, blue, yellow, pink, black, white... It almost looked like something you'd sprinkle onto a cake as they poured down to my feet, pitter-pattering on the wooden hall floor.
I rolled my eyes and cleaned up. I figured an office had put the wrong address for a supply delivery.
One shipment of 100 paperclips is odd. But 2? That's where I got suspicious.
The second day had me question whether this was some form of prank. I was smarter this time, though - I recognised the weight and feel of the envelope. I recognised the outline of paperclips as I held it up to the light. I didn't let them spill out at my feet - Although, my curiosity still had me open it to peek inside. You'd do the same. "Is it really just paperclips?" Yes. Yes it is.
By the fifth day, I had stopped opening it. I'd just briefly hold it up to the light to confirm the outline looked like paperclips, and then I'd toss it.
I don't remember why I checked my spam folder in my emails, but when I took a look, I immediately saw it. The cheesy headline stood out. "Clip-pity Clop, You've Won the Lifetime Paperclip Jack-pot! 🎉📎"
Below is the rest of the email.

Your luck has just CLIPPED right into place! Congratulations! You are the GRAND WINNER of our "Lifetime supply of paperclips" competition! 🥳📎
From now on, you can proudly say goodbye to those chaotic loose papers and let our high-quality paperclips take over. No more sacrificing yourself to papercuts! And guess what? You didn't just win a box, you won an ENTIRE LIFETIME of daily paperclip surprises! You've really hit the jack-CLIP! 🎁
Starting from next week, you will receive a random amount of our finest, top-notch paperclips every single day. Just imagine the POSSIBILITIES! Office organization, arts and crafts, creative paperclip sculptures... the list is never-ending!
With your new paperclip friends by your side, there's no end to the horizon of tidiness and creativity (to the MAX)! Just like our paperclips: durable, strong, and clip-tacular! 💪📎
As we ship your first batch, let's get you started by sharing some mind-blowing paperclip fun-facts...

I'll save you the fun-facts section, as it's not very "fun". Although I did learn that they've been around since the 1800s.
The only interesting thing that this email gave me was a company name - Clipogenics. I promptly sent an email back asking that my prize be transferred to someone else. My exact words were "someone more in need of paperclips," although thinking about it, I'm not sure who that could possibly apply to.
Spoiler alert: They did not reply, and the envelopes kept on coming.
2 weeks went by; I was still receiving paperclips.
6 weeks went by; nothing changed.
A few weeks ago was the 3-month mark. Over 90 days of paperclips. Yes, I had considered selling them, but I really don't know how much money I could make. Also, yes, they even arrived on Sundays. I could not understand who was delivering these. I never caught them, although I assumed the person posting them had no association with the company themselves, so talking to them is never something I attempted.
Around that 3-month mark, I was going through my normal daily routine. Make a cup of coffee, pick up the envelope from the hallway floor, hold it up against a light, and toss it in the bin. Only this time, the light revealed the outline of 1 single paperclip, and something else. I have to admit, deep down, part of me was almost excited. A real-life plot twist? Something to spice up an otherwise mundane part of my day? Curveballs are usually exciting to me, and this was no exception. I reached inside, pulling the mystery object out. What could they possibly have sent me?
A severed finger.
A dry, almost slightly green, severed finger.
I'm not sure which happened first - My scream, or dropping the finger to the floor.
I noticed only then that the paperclip was lodged under the fingernail, piercing right through the flesh. It was golden this time - A colour I had not been sent before. I'd like to say I stayed calm, but I didn't - I ran to the bathroom to throw up.
I contacted the police, and they took the finger and envelope away. I explained everything that I knew, and showed them the email - They told me that they'd investigate.
"It's crazy, isn't it?" - One of the police officers began his thought to me.
"What?"
"How dangerous simple production can be. Some poor sod has lost a finger over something as simple as a paperclip!"
"You think it was an accident?" - I don't know what exactly I thought it was. A threat, maybe? I'm still not sure.
"Of course. Probably someone on the production line packaging these things. Finger gets caught in machinery, 'Ahh, no, whoops!', and before you know it the finger's lost. The weight of the finger makes the machine think the envelope is now full of paperclips, and off it goes to your door."
Somehow a calm explanation of this situation actually helped me. Hell, it almost convinced me that it was just normal. I was assured, though, that the company was at fault for health & safety, and that something would be done about this.
A couple of weeks went by, and the police hadn't contacted me with any new information. The envelopes kept coming daily, but I was too afraid to open them. For fear of tossing away evidence, though, I kept them piled up in the corner.
As the pile grew taller, I decided to bite the bullet and open them, but not before carefully inspecting each one.
My hands shaking, I held the first up to the light, and it was just full of paperclips. Perhaps the incident really was a one-off, and the fault had been fixed. I held a few more up, and my heart almost skipped a beat when I found one with a solid shadow. No outline of paperclips - This envelope had a letter.
I carefully opened it up, and read.

Dear valued customer,
We would like to formally apologize for the incident that occurred recently. We understand that the events were likely traumatic, and whilst we may never make it right, we'd like to offer you a one-time compensation.
Attached to this letter, using one of our sturdy, high-end paperclips, we have written a cheque for £2,000. We hope we can continue our partnership professionally.
We understand that you may want to cancel your lifetime supply of paperclips.
Unfortunately, we must decline this request.
We hope you understand,
Clipogenics Customer Service Team

No. I did not understand. Do you? Do you understand what the fuck they're talking about?
I contacted the police to update them, letting them know that I had received this message. They sent somebody to collect it.
The following day, assuming all was well, I picked up the daily delivery from the floor. Before I had a chance to check it, there was a knock at the door - I folded the envelope and put it in my back pocket. I opened the door, and was surprised to see a man in a suit looking very concerned.
He wasted no time in getting to the point.
"Hello, we're relocating you. Pack your things, and tell nobody. We have a temporary hotel booked for you."
My lack of response showed that I had many questions.
"Look - It's just precautionary. We can't find any evidence of Clipogenics ever existing, and..."
"...and what?"
"...and the finger matched the D.N.A of a recent assumed suicide. It's now assumed to be murder."
I had a feeling there was more. Unfortunately, his next sentence confirmed that.
"The person in question was found to have also won the competition."
I did not need telling twice - I got my essentials packed, and was at the hotel in less than 90 minutes. It was only in the next town over, which I found odd, yet comforted that I was still so close to home.
After the man left and I was left with my own thoughts, I was surprised at how quiet my head was. I was just...content. I wasn't happy or sad or scared, I was just existing. Perhaps I was still in shock. It took about an hour before I remembered the envelope in my back pocket. I held it up to the light, and knew from the resulting darkness that this contained another letter.
I hesitantly opened it, peeking inside to check for hidden surprises.
Upon taking it out, I thought it to be a blank piece of paper - It seemed entirely empty. Until I unfolded it, to reveal the few words printed upon this letter.

Dear valued customer,
Suicides don't lose fingers,
The police do not wear suits.

The world spun. The world crumbled. The world felt like it no longer existed.
Then all at once, reality came back to me, as I felt a rush of anxiety-driven energy. I paced back and forth in the limited space I had, weighing up my options and trying to come up with a plan.
Could I leave? I was probably being watched.
Could I contact the police? I certainly no longer felt comfortable doing so.
Could I talk to my friends or family? The last thing I wanted was to put them in danger.
I knew I had to do one of these 3 options, and opted for the first. It was still bright out - Surely I'd be safe in crowds. So that's exactly what I did. I stuck to busy areas, and travelled across the country, using as many different types of public transportation as I could.
I didn't stop until night fell. I booked a new hotel under a fake name, and paid in cash. I rested surprisingly well that night.
My sleep was interrupted at around 7am to knocking at the door. "No thank you," I sleepily yelled at what I assumed to be room service.
"Something arrived in reception for you - I'll slide it under the door."
A white envelope emerged through the crack under the door.
I wanted to stay away from it, but I knew that being unaware of the contents would scare me more than anything else. Feeling my heart pounding through my chest, I reached for the envelope, noticing a thick object within. Another finger?
No, a letter, this time with a vial of liquid, and two golden paperclips.

Dear valued customer,
We're glad you're settling in well to your new surroundings.
Sorry for the little show - We needed to assure that you'd get as far away from your hometown as possible.
Your true prize isn't the paperclips. That would be mundane.
Your true prize is immortality.
Paperclips are beautiful, aren't they? Connecting paper to paper, as the universe connects life to life. And as the flow of life continues, it has connected us to you.
The chain of our will continues, as the chain of paperclips continues with it.
The vial within has a unique purpose. It will kill you and help you live, all at the same time.
You do understand, don't you?
Drink the vial, and stab a paperclip into yourself.
You will slowly drift away for a moment, but you will stay connected to the universe. You must.
You will awaken in your new body - One of the many that we have cryogenically frozen here.
It worked for me.
You saw my finger.
Every single paperclip we have sent you has had a purpose. Each has been blessed with a new connection for your new life. They have all been through your home, many have touched your skin, and all have been held up to the light.
Their blessings will reach you in your new life.
The green ones bring you wealth. The red ones bring you health. The blue ones bring you happiness.
All you have to do is drink the vial.
Before the poison sets in, choose a paperclip. Your decision will always be the right one.
We know how your brain ticks. Every word we've ever written, and every colour we've ever chosen, have all been designed to sway your decision in this very moment.
You'll fall asleep as a valued customer,
But you'll awaken as our valued employee.

I am not letting them control my destiny. I will not sacrifice my life to their company, to become one of their puppets to control.
I know this company has a far greater reach than I first understood, so I might not be able to tell anybody. But I can tell everybody.
I hope this post reaches their next "big winner" - And I hope they are as strong-willed as I am.