edit: thanks for the awards. I'd be a dick to take credit. Go check out the one-man-band who actually wrote it---I've been reading for a couple months, good stuff https://bestinterest.blog/explain-the-big-short/
(Best Interest) This post will explain the Big Short and the 2008 subprime mortgage collapse in simple terms.
This post is a little longer than usual–maybe give yourself 20 minutes to sift through it. But I promise you’ll leave feeling like you can tranche (that’s a verb, right?!) the whole financial system!
Key Players
First, I want to introduce the players in the financial crisis, as they might not make sense at first blush. One of the worst parts about the financial industry is how they use deliberately obtuse language to explain relatively simple ideas. Their financial acronyms are hard to keep track of. In order to explain the Big Short, these players–and their roles–are key.
Individuals, a.k.a. regular people who take out mortgages to buy houses; for example, you and me!
Mortgage lenders, like a local bank or a mortgage lending specialty shop, who give out mortgages to individuals. Either way, they’re probably local people that the individual home-buyer would meet in person.
Big banks, such as Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley, who buy lots of mortgages from lenders. After this transaction, the homeowner would owe money to the big bank instead of the lender.
Collateralized debt obligations (CDOs)—deep breath!—who take mortgages from big banks and bundle them all together into a bond (see below). And just like before, this step means that the home-buyer now owes money to the CDO. Why is this done?! I’ll explain, I promise.
Ratings agencies, whose job is to determine the risk of a CDO—is it filled with safe mortgages, or risky mortgages?
Investors, who buy part of a CDO and get repaid as the individual homeowners start paying back their mortgage.
Feel lost already? I’m going to be a good jungle guide and get you through this. Stick with me.
Quick definition: Bonds
A bond can be thought of as a loan. When you buy a bond, you are loaning your money. The issuer of the bond is borrowing your money. In exchange for borrowing your money, the issuer promises to pay you back, plus interest, in a certain amount of time. Sometimes, the borrower cannot pay the investor back, and the bond defaults, or fails. Defaults are not good for the investor.
The CDO—which is a bond—could hold thousands of mortgages in it. It’s a mortgage-backed bond, and therefore a type of mortgage-backed security. If you bought 1% of a CDO, you were loaning money equivalent to 1% of all the mortgage principal, with the hope of collecting 1% of the principal plus interest as the mortgages got repaid.
There’s one more key player, but I’ll wait to introduce it. First…
The Whys, Explained
Why does an individual take out a mortgage? Because they want a home. Can you blame them?! A healthy housing market involves people buying and selling houses.
How about the lender; why do they lend? It used to be so they would slowly make interest money as the mortgage got repaid. But nowadays, the lender takes a fee (from the homeowner) for creating (or originating) the mortgage, and then immediately sells to mortgage to…
A big bank. Why do they buy mortgages from lenders? Starting in the 1970s, Wall St. started buying up groups of loans, tying them all together into one bond—the CDO—and selling slices of that collection to investors. When people buy and sell those slices, the big banks get a cut of the action—a commission.
Why would an investor want a slice of a mortgage CDO? Because, like any other investment, the big banks promised that the investor would make their money back plus interest once the homeowners began repaying their mortgages.
You can almost trace the flow of money and risk from player to player.
At the end of the day, the investor needs to get repaid, and that money comes from homeowners.
CDOs are empty buckets
Homeowners and mortgage lenders are easy to understand. But a big question mark swirls around Wall Street’s CDOs.
I like to think of the CDO as a football field full of empty buckets—one bucket per mortgage. As an investor, you don’t purchase one single bucket, or one mortgage. Instead, you purchase a thin horizontal slice across all the buckets—say, a half-inch slice right around the 1-gallon mark.
As the mortgages are repaid, it starts raining. The repayments—or rain—from Mortgage A doesn’t go solely into Bucket A, but rather is distributed across all the buckets, and all the buckets slowly get re-filled.
As long as your horizontal slice of the bucket is eventually surpassed, you get your money back plus interest. You don’t need every mortgage to be repaid. You just need enough mortgages to get to your slice.
It makes sense, then, that the tippy top of the bucket—which gets filled up last—is the highest risk. If too many of the mortgages in the CDO fail and aren’t repaid, then the tippy top of the bucket will never get filled up, and those investors won’t get their money back.
These horizontal slices are called tranches, which might sound familiar if you’ve read the book or watched the movie.
So far, there’s nothing too wrong about this practice. It’s simply moving the risk from the mortgage lender to other investors. Sure, the middle-men (banks, lenders, CDOs) are all taking a cut out of all the buy and sell transactions. But that’s no different than buying lettuce at grocery store prices vs. buying straight from the farmer. Middle-men take a cut. It happens.
But now, our final player enters the stage…
Credit Default Swaps: The Lynchpin of the Big Short
Screw you, Wall Street nomenclature! A credit default swap sounds complicated, but it’s just insurance. Very simple, but they have a key role to explain the Big Short.
Investors thought, “Well, since I’m buying this risky tranche of a CDO, I might want to hedge my bets a bit and buy insurance in case it fails.” That’s what a credit default swap did. It’s insurance against something failing. But, there is a vital difference between a credit default swap and normal insurance.
I can’t buy an insurance policy on your house, on your car, or on your life. Only you can buy those policies. But, I could buy insurance on a CDO mortgage bond, even if I didn’t own that bond!
Not only that, but I could buy billions of dollars of insurance on a CDO that only contained millions of dollars of mortgages.
It’s like taking out a $1 million auto policy on a Honda Civic. No insurance company would allow you to do this, but it was happening all over Wall Street before 2008. This scenario essentially is “the big short” (see below)—making huge insurance bets that CDOs will fail—and many of the big banks were on the wrong side of this bet!
Credit default swaps involved the largest amounts of money in the subprime mortgage crisis. This is where the big Wall Street bets were taking place.
Quick definition: Short
A short is a bet that something will fail, get worse, or go down. When most people invest, they buy long (“I want this stock price to go up!”). A short is the opposite of that.
Certain individuals—like main characters Steve Eisman (aka Mark Baum in the movie, played by Steve Carrell) and Michael Burry (played by Christian Bale) in the 2015 Oscar-nominated film The Big Short—realized that tons of mortgages were being made to people who would never be able to pay them back.
If enough mortgages failed, then tranches of CDOs start to fail—no mortgage repayment means no rain, and no rain means the buckets stay empty. If CDOs fail, then the credit default swap insurance gets paid out. So what to do? Buy credit default swaps! That’s the quick and dirty way to explain the Big Short.
Why buy Dog Shit?
Wait a second. Why did people originally invest in these CDO bonds if they were full of “dog shit mortgages” (direct quote from the book) in the first place? Since The Big Short protagonists knew what was happening, shouldn’t the investors also have realized that the buckets would never get refilled?
For one, the prospectus—a fancy word for “owner’s manual”—of a CDO was very difficult to parse through. It was hard to understand exactly which mortgages were in the CDO. This is a skeevy big bank/CDO practice. And even if you knew which mortgages were in a CDO, it was nearly impossible to realize that many of those mortgages were made fraudulently.
The mortgage lenders were knowingly creating bad mortgages*.* They were giving loans to people with no hopes of repaying them. Why? Because the lenders knew they could immediately sell that mortgage—that risk—to a big bank, which would then securitize the mortgage into a CDO, and then sell that CDO to investors. Any risk that the lender took by creating a bad mortgage was quickly transferred to the investor.
So…because you can’t decipher the prospectus to tell which mortgages are in a CDO, it was easier to rely on the CDO’s rating than to evaluate each of the underlying mortgages. It’s the same reason why you don’t have to understand how engines work when you buy a car; you just look at Car & Driver or Consumer Reports for their opinions, their ratings.
The Ratings Agencies
Investors often relied on ratings to determine which bonds to buy. The two most well-known ratings agencies from 2008 were Moody’s and Standard & Poor’s (heard of the S&P 500?). The ratings agency’s job was to look at a CDO that a big bank created, understand the underlying assets (in this case, the mortgages), and give the CDO a rating to determine how safe it was. A good rating is “AAA”—so nice, it got ‘A’ thrice.
So, were the ratings agencies doing their jobs? No! There are a few explanations for this:

1. Even they—the experts in charge of grading the bonds—didn’t understand what was going on inside a CDO. The owner’s manual descriptions (prospectuses) were too complicated. In fact, ratings agencies often relied on big banks to teach seminars about how to rate CDOs, which is like a teacher learning how to grade tests from Timmy, who still pees his pants. Timmy just wants an A.
2. Ratings agencies are profit-driven companies. When they give a rating, they charge a fee. But if the agency hands out too many bad grades, then their customers—the big banks—will take their requests elsewhere in hopes of higher grades. The ratings agencies weren’t objective, but instead were biased by their need for profits.
3. Remember those fraudulent mortgages that the lenders were making? Unless you did some boots-on-the-ground research, it was tough to uncover this fact. It’s hard to blame the ratings agencies for not catching this.

Who’s to blame?
Everyone? Let’s play devil’s advocate…
​

• Individuals: some people point the finger at homeowners, saying, “You should know better than to buy a $1 million house on a teacher’s salary.” I find this hard to swallow. These people, surrounded by the American home-ownership dream, were sold the idea that they would be fine. The mortgage lender had no incentive to sell a good mortgage, they only had an incentive to sell a mortgage. So, it’s hard for me to put too much blame on the homeowners.
• Mortgage lenders: someone knew. I’m not saying that all the mortgage lenders were fully aware of the implications of their actions, but some people knew that fraudulent loans were being made, and chose to ignore that fact. For example, check out whistleblower Eileen Foster.
• Big banks: Yes sir! There’s certainly blame here. Rather than get into all of the various money-grubbing, I want to call out one specific anecdote. Back in 2010, Goldman Sachs CEO Lloyd Blankfein testified in front of Congress. Here it is:

To explain further, there are two things going on here.
First, Goldman Sachs bankers were selling CDOs to investors. They wanted to make a commission on the sale.
At the same time, other bankers ALSO AT GOLDMAN SACHS were buying credit default swaps, a.k.a. betting against the same CDOs that the first Goldman Sachs bankers were selling.
This is like selling someone a racehorse with cancer, and then immediately going to the track to bet against that horse. Blankfein’s defense in this video is, “But the horse seller and the bettor weren’t the same people!” And the Congressmen responds, “But they worked for the same stable, and collected the same paychecks!”
So do the big banks deserve blame? You tell me.
Inspecting Goldman Sachs
One reason Goldman Sachs survived 2008 is that they began buying credit default swaps (insurance) just in time before the housing market crashed. They were still on the bad side of some bets, but mostly on the good side. They were net profitable.
Unfortunately for them, the banks that owed Goldman money were going bankrupt from their own debt, and then Goldman never would have been able to collect on their insurance. Goldman would’ve had to payout on their “bad” bets, while not collecting on their “good” bets. In their own words, they were “toast.”
This is significant. Even banks in “good” positions would’ve gone bankrupt, because the people who owed the most money weren’t able to repay all their debts. Imagine a chain; Bank A owes money to Bank B, and B owes money to Bank C. If Bank A fails, then B can’t collect their debt, and B can’t pay C. Bank C made “good” bets, but aren’t able to collect on them, and then they go out of business.
These failures would’ve rippled throughout the world. This explains why the US government felt it necessary to bail-out the banks. That federal money allowed banks in “good” positions to collect their profits and “stop the ripple” from tearing apart the world economy. While CDOs and credit default swap explain the Big Short starting, this ripple of failure is the mechanism that affected the entire world.
Betting more than you have
But if someone made a bad bet—sold bad insurance—why didn’t they have money to cover that bet? It all depends on risk. If you sell a $100 million insurance policy, and you think there’s a 1% chance of paying out that policy, what’s your exposure? It’s the potential loss multiplied by the probability = 1% times $100 million, or $1 million.
These banks sold billions of dollars of insurance under the assumption that there was a 5%, or 3%, or 1% chance of the housing market failing. So they had 20x, or 30x, or 100x less money on hand then they needed to cover these bets.
Turns out, there was a 100% chance that the market would fail…oops!
Blame, expounded
Ratings agencies—they should be unbiased. But they sold themselves off for profit. They invited the wolves—big banks—into their homes to teach them how to grade CDOs. Maybe they should read a blog to explain the Big Short to them. Of course they deserve blame. Here’s another anecdote of terrible judgment from the ratings agencies:
Think back to my analogy of the buckets and the rain. Sometimes, a ratings agency would look at a CDO and say, “You’re never going to fill up these buckets all the way. Those final tranches—the ones that won’t get filled—they’re really risky. So we’re going to give them a bad grade.” There were “Dog Shit” tranches, and Dog Shit gets a bad grade.
But then the CDO managers would go back to their offices and cut off the top of the buckets. And they’d do this for all their CDOs—cutting off all the bucket-top rings from all the different CDO buckets. And then they’d super-glue the bucket-top rings together to create a field full of Frankenstein buckets, officially called a CDO squared. Because the Frankenstein buckets were originally part of other CDOs, the Frankenstein buckets could only start filling up once the original buckets (which now had the tops cut off) were filled. In other words, the CDO managers decided to concentrate all their Dog Shit in one place, and super glue it together.
A reasonable person would look at the Frankenstein Dog Shit field of buckets and say, “That’s turrible, Kenny.”
BUT THE RATINGS AGENCIES GAVE CDO-SQUAREDs HIGH GRADES!!! Oh I’m sorry, was I yelling?!
“It’s diversified,” they would claim, as if Poodle shit mixed with Labrador shit is better than pure Poodle shit.
Again, you tell me. Do the ratings agencies deserve blame?!
Does the government deserve blame?
Yes and no.
For example, part of the Housing and Community Development Act of 1992 mandated that the government mortgage finance firms (Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae) purchase a certain number of sub-prime mortgages.
On its surface, this seems like a good thing: it’s giving money to potential home-buyers who wouldn’t otherwise qualify for a mortgage. It’s providing the American Dream.
But as we’ve already covered today, it does nobody any good to provide a bad mortgage to someone who can’t repay it. That’s what caused this whole calamity. Freddie and Fannie and HUD were pumping money into the machine, helping to enable it. Good intentions, but they weren’t paying attention to the unintended outcomes.
And what about the Securities & Exchange Commission (SEC), the watchdogs of Wall Street. Do they have a role to explain the Big Short? Shouldn’t they have been aware of the Big Banks, the CDOs, the ratings agencies?
Yes, they deserve blame too. They’re supposed to do things like ensure that Big Banks have enough money on hand to cover their risky bets. This is called proper “risk management,” and it was severely lacking. The SEC also had the power to dig into the CDOs and ferret out the fraudulent mortgages that were creating them. Why didn’t they do that?
Perhaps the issue is that the SEC was/is simply too close to Wall Street, similar to the ratings agencies getting advice from the big banks. Watchdogs shouldn’t get treats from those they’re watching. Or maybe it’s that the CDOs and credit default swaps were too hard for the SEC to understand.
Either way, the SEC doesn’t have a good excuse. If you’re in bed with the people you’re regulating, then you’re doing a bad job. If you’re rubber stamping things you don’t understand, then you’re doing a bad job.
Explain the Big Short, shortly
You’re about 2500 words into my “short summary.” But the important things to remember:
​

• Financial acronyms suck.
• Money flowed from the investors down to the mortgage lenders, and the risk flowed from the mortgage lenders up to the investors. In between, the big banks and CDOs acted as middle men and intermediaries.
• When someone feels like their actions have no risk, or no consequences, they’ll behave poorly (big banks, mortgage lenders)When someone is given what seems like an amazing deal, they’ll take it (individual home owners).
• CDOs are like empty buckets. Mortgage payments are like rain, filling the buckets. Investors buy tranches, or slices, across all the buckets. If mortgages fail, then the buckets might not fill up, and the investors won’t get their money back.
• CDOs are intentionally complex. So complex, that not even the people grading them understood what was going on (ratings agencies).
• Buying insurance on something your do not own is a behavior with potential for abuse (big banks)
• Buying insurance on something for more than it’s worth is a behavior with potential for abuse (big banks). This is where most of the money in the financial crisis switched hands.

And with that, I’d like to announce the opening of the Best Interest CDO. Rather than invest in mortgages, I’ll be investing in race horses. Don’t ask my why, but the current top stallion is named ‘Dog Shit.’ He’ll take Wall Street by storm.
If you don’t mind my cussing but you do like this content, consider subscribing to the email list to get these articles (and nothing more) sent to your inbox every week.
I hope this post helped if you were looking for someone to explain the Big Short. Thanks for reading the Best Interest.
​
Source: https://bestinterest.blog/explain-the-big-short/

Today i have a confession to make: i'm a little bit of a minmaxer. And honestly, i think that's a pretty desirable trait in a DM. The minmaxer knows the rules, and exploits them to maximum efficiency.
"But wait, what does that have to do with spell use in society?" - someone, probably.
Well, the thing is that humans are absolutely all about minmaxing. There's a rule in the universe that reads "gas expands when hot", and suddenly we have steam engines (or something like that, i'm a political scientist not an engineer). A rule says 1+1 = 2, and suddenly we have calculus, computers and all kinds of digital stuff that runs on math. Sound is energy? Let's convert that shit into electricity, run it through a wire and turn it back into sound on the other side.
Bruh. Science is just minmaxing the laws of nature. Humanity in real life is just a big bunch of munchkins, and it should be no different in your setting.
And that is why minmaxing magic usage is something societies as a whole would do, specially with some notable spells. Today i will go in depth on how and why each of these notable mentions has a huge impact on a fantasy society.
We'll go from lowest level to highest, keeping in mind that the lower level a spell the more common it should be to find someone who has it, so often a level 2-3 spell will have more impact than a level 9 spell.
​
Mending (cantrip).
Repair anything in one minute. Your axe lost its edge? Tore your shirt? Just have someone Mend it.
Someone out there is crying "but wait! Not every village has a wizard!" and while that is true, keep in mind any High Elf knows a cantrip, as can any Variant Human.
A single "mender" could replace a lot of the work a smith, woodworker or seamstress does, freeing their time to only work on making new things rather than repair old ones.
​
Prestidigitation (cantrip).
Clean anything in six seconds. Committed axe murders until the axe got blunt, and now there's blood everywhere? Dog shit on your pillow out of spite? Someone walked all over the living room with muddy boots? Just Prestidigitate it away.
This may look like a small thing, but its actually huge when you apply it to laundry. Before washing machines were a thing housewives had to spend several hours a week washing them manually, and with Prestidigitation you can just hire someone to get it done in a few minutes.
A single "magic cleaner" can attend to several dozen homes, if not hundreds, thus freeing several hours of the time of dozens of women.
Fun fact: there's an interesting theory that says feminism only existed because of laundry machines and similar devices. Women found themselves having more free time, which they used to read and socialize. Educated women with more contacts made for easy organization of political movements, and the fact men were now able to do "the women's work" by pushing a button meant men were less opposed to losing their housewives' labor. Having specialized menders and magic cleaners could cause a comparable revolution in a fantasy setting, and help explain why women have a similar standing to men even in combat occupations such as adventuring.
​
Healing in general (1st-2nd level).
This one is fairly obvious. A commoner has 4 hit points, that means just about any spell is a full heal to the average person. That means most cuts, stab wounds, etc. can be solved by the resident cleric. Even broken bones that would leave you in bed for months can be solved in a matter of seconds as soon as the holy man arrives.
But that's nothing compared to the ability to cure diseases. While the only spell that can cure diseases is Lesser Restoration, which is second level, a paladin can do it much more easily with just a Lay on Hands. This means if one or two people catch a disease it can just be eradicated with a touch.
However doing that comes with a cost. If everyone is instantly expunged of illness, the populace does not build up their immune systems. Regular disease becomes less common, sure, but whenever it is reintroduced (by, say, immigrants or contact with less civilized humanoids) it can spread like wildfire, afflicting people so fast that no amount of healers will have the magic juice to deal with it.
Diseases become rare, plagues become common.
​
Continual Flame (2nd).
Ok, this one is a topic i love and could easily be its own post.
There's an article called "Why the Falling Cost of Light Matters", which goes in detail about how man went from chopping wood for fire, to using animal fat for candles, then other oils, whale oil, kerosene, then finally incandescent light bulbs, and more recently LED lights. Each of these leaps is orders of grandeur more efficient than the previous one, to the point that the cost of light today is about 500,000 times cheaper than it was for for a caveman. And until the early 1900s the only way mankind knew of making light was to set things on fire.
Continual Flame on the other hand allows you to turn 50gp worth of rubies and a 2nd level spell slot into a torch that burns forever. In a society that spends 60 hours of labor to be able to generate 140 minutes of light, this is a huge game changer.
This single spell, which i am 99% sure was just created as an excuse for why the dungeon is lit despite going for centuries without maintenance, allows you to have things like public lighting. Even if you only add a new "torchpost" every other week or month sooner or later you'll be left with a neatly lit city, specially if the city has had thousands of years in which to gather the rubies and light them up.
And because the demand of rubies becomes so important, consider how governments would react. Lighting the streets is a public service, if its strategically relevant to make the city safer at night, would that not warrant some restrictions on ruby sales? Perhaps even banning the use of rubies in jewelry?
Trivia: John D. Rockefeller, the richest man in history, gained his wealth selling kerosene. Kerosene at the time was used to light lamps. Gasoline was invented much later, when Rockefeller tasked a bunch of scientists to come up with a use for some byproducts of the kerosene production. This illustrates how much money is to be had in the lighting industry, and you could even have your own Rockefeller ruby baron in your game. I shall call him... Dohn J. Stonebreaker. Perfect name for a mining entrepreneur.
Whether the ruby trade ends up a monopoly under the direct supervision of the king or a free market, do keep in mind that Continual Flame is by far the most efficient way of creating light.
​
Gentle Repose (2nd).
Cast it on a corpse, and it stays preserved for 10 days.
This has many potential uses, from preserving foodstuffs (hey, some rare meats are expensive enough to warrant it) to keeping the bodies of old rulers preserved. Even if a ruler died of old age and cannot be resurrected, the body could be kept "fresh" out of respect/ceremony. Besides, it keeps the corpse from becoming undead.
​
Skywrite (2nd).
Ok, this one is mostly a gag. While the spell can be used by officials to make official announcements to the populace, such as new laws or important news, i like to just use it for spam. I mean, its a ritual spell that writes a message on the sky; what else would people use it for?
Imagine you show up in a city, and there's half a dozen clouds reading "buy at X, we have what you need", "get your farming supplies over at Joe's store" or "vote Y for the city council".
The possibilities are endless, and there's no way the players can expect it. Just keep in mind that by RAW the spell can only do words, meaning no images. No Patrick, "8===D" is not a word.
​
Zone of Truth (2nd).
This one is too obvious. Put all suspects of a crime into a ZoT, wait a couple minutes to make sure they fail the save, then ask each one if he did it. Sure its not a perfect system, things like the Ring of Mind Shielding still exist, but it's got a better chance of getting the right guy than most medieval justice systems. And probably more than a few contemporary ones. All while taking only a fraction of the time.
More importantly, with all the average crimes being handled instantly, the guards and investigators have more time to properly investigate the more unusual crimes that might actually involve a Thought Shield, Ring of Mind Shielding or a level 17 Mastermind.
There is a human rights argument against messing with people's minds in any way, which is why this may not be practiced in every kingdom. But there are definitely some more lawful societies that would use ZoT on just about every crime.
Why swear to speak the truth and nothing but the truth when you can just stand in a zone of truth?
Another interesting use for ZoT is oaths. When someone is appointed into an office, gets to a high rank in the military or a guild, just put them in a ZoT while they make their oath to stand for the organization's values and yadda yadda. Of course they can be corrupted later on, but at least you make sure they're honest when they are sworn in.
​
Sending (3rd).
Sending is busted in so many ways.
The more "vanilla" use of it is to just communicate over long distances. We all know that information is important, and that sometimes getting information a whole day ahead can lead to a 40% return on a massive two-year investment. Being able to know of invasions, monsters, disasters, etc. without waiting days or weeks for a courier can be vital for the survival of a nation. Another notable example is that one dude who ran super fast for a while to be the first to tell his side of a recent event.
But the real broken thing here is... Sending can Send to any creature, on any plane; the only restriction being "with which you are familiar". In D&D dead people just get sent to one of the afterlife planes, meaning that talking to your dead grandfather would be as simple as Sending to him. Settling inheritance disputes was never easier!
Before moving on to the next point let me ask you something: Is a cleric familiar with his god? Is a warlock familiar with his patron?
​
Speak With Dead (3rd).
Much like Sending, this lets you easily settle disputes. Is the senate/council arguing over a controversial topic? Just ask the beloved hero or ruler from 200 years ago what he thinks on the subject. As long his skeleton still has a jaw (or if he has been kept in Gentle Repose), he can answer.
This can also be used to ask people who killed them, except murderers also know this. Plan on killing someone? Accidentally killed someone? Make sure to inutilize the jaw. Its either that, being so stealthy the victim can't identify you, or being caught.
​
Note on spell availability.
Oh boy. No world-altering 4th level spells for some reason, and suddenly we're playing with the big boys now.
Spells up to 3rd level are what I'd consider "somewhat accessible", and can be arranged for a fee even for regular citizens. For instance the vanilla Priest statblock (MM348) is a 5th level cleric, and the standard vanilla Druid (MM346) a 4th level druid.
Spells of 5th level onward will be considered something only the top 1% is able to afford, or large organizations such as guilds, temples or government.
​
Dream (5th).
I was originally going to put Dream along with Sending and Telepathy as "long range communication", but decided against it due to each of them having unique uses.
And when it comes to Dream, it has the unique ability of allowing you to put your 8 hours of sleep to good use. A tutor could hire someone to cast Dream on him, thus allowing him to teach his student for 8 hours at any distance. This is a way you could even access hermits that live in the middle of nowhere or in secluded monasteries. Very wealthy families or rulers would be willing to pay a good amount of money to make sure their heirs get that extra bit of education.
Its like online classes, but while you sleep!
Another interesting use is for cheating. Know a princess or queen you like? She likes you back? Her dad put 400 trained soldiers between you? No problemo! Just find a 9th level Bard, Warlock or Wizard, but who am i kidding, of course it'll be a bard. And that bard is probably you. Now you have 8 hours to do whatever you want, and no physical evidence will be left.
​
Raise Dead (5th).
Few things matter more in life than death. And the ability to resurrect people has a huge impact on society. The impact is so huge that this topic needs topics of its own.
First, diamond monopoly. Remember what i said about how Continual Flame would lead to controlled ruby sales due to its strategic value? This is the same principle, but a hundred times stronger. Resurrection is a huge strategic resource. It makes assassinations harder, can be used to bring back your officials or highest level soldiers over and over during a war, etc. This means more authoritarian regimes would do everything within their power to control the supply and stock of diamonds. Which in turn means if anyone wants to have someone resurrected, even in times of peace, they'll need to call in a favor, do a quest, grease some hands...
Second, resurrection insurance. People hate risks. That's why insurance is such a huge industry, taking up about 15% of the US GDP. People insure their cars, houses... even their lives. Resurrection just means "life insurance" is taken more literally. This makes even more sense when you consider how expensive resurrection is: nobody can afford it in one go, but if you pay a little every month or year you can save up enough to have it done when the need arises.
This is generally incompatible with the idea of a State-run monopoly over diamonds, but that just means different countries within a setting can take different approaches.
To make things easier, i even used some microeconomics to make a sheet in my personal random generators to calculate the price of such a service. Just head to the "Insurance" tab and fill in the information relative to your setting.
With actual life insurance resurrection can cost as little as 5gp a year for humans or 8sp a year for elves, making resurrection way more affordable than it looks.
Also, do you know why pirates wore a single gold earring? It was so that if your body washes up on the shore whoever finds it can use the money to arrange a proper burial. Sure there's a risk of the finder taking it and walking away, but the pirates did it anyway. With resurrection in play, might as well just wear a diamond earring instead and hope the finder is nice enough to bring you back.
I got so carried away with the whole insurance thing i almost forgot: the possibility of resurrection also changes how murders are committed.
If you want someone dead but resurrection exists, you have to remove the vital organs. Decapitation would be far more common. Sure resurrection is still possible, but it requires higher level spells or Reincarnate, which has... quirks.
As a result it should be very obvious when someone was killed by accident or an overreaction, and when someone was specifically out to kill the victim.
​
Scrying (5th).
This one is somewhat obvious, in that everyone and their mother knows it helps finding people. But who needs finding? Well, that would be those who are hiding.
The main use i see for this spell, by far, is locating escaped criminals. Just collect a sample of hair or blood when arresting someone (or shipping them to hard labor which is way smarter), and if they escape you'll be almost guaranteed to successfully scry on them.
A similar concept to this is seen in the Dragon Age series. If you're a mage the paladins keep a sample of your blood in something called a phylactery, and that can be used to track you down. There's even a quest or two about mages trying to destroy their phylacteries before escaping.
Similarly, if you plan a jailbreak it would be highly beneficial to destroy the blood/hair sample first. As a matter of fact i can even see a thieves guild hiring a low level party to take out the sample while the professional infiltrators get the prisoner out. Keep in mind both events must be done at the same time, otherwise the guards will just collect a new sample or would have already taken it to the wizard.
But guards aren't the only ones with resources. A loan shark could keep blood samples of his debtors, a mobster can keep one of those who owe him favors, etc. And the blood is ceremoniously returned only when the debt is fully paid.
​
Teleportation Circle (5th), Transport Via Plants (6th).
In other words, long range teleportation. This is such a huge thing that it is hard to properly explain how important it is.
Teleportation Circle creates a 10ft. circle, and everyone has one round to get in and appear on the target location. Assuming 30ft. movement that means you can get 192 people through, which is a lot of potential merchants going across any distance. Or 672 people dashing.
Math note: A 30ft radius square around a 10ft. diameter square, minus the 4 original squares. Or [(6*2+2)^2]-4 squares of 5ft. each. Hence 192 people.
Getting hundreds of merchants, workers, soldiers, etc. across any distance is nothing to scoff at. In fact, it could help explain why PHB item prices are so standardized: Arbitrage is so easy and cheap that price differences across multiple markets become negligible. Unless of course countries start setting up tax collectors outside of the permanent teleportation circles in order to charge tariffs.
Transport Via Plants does something very similar but it requires 5ft of movement to go through, which means less people can be teleported. On the other hand it doesn't burn 50gp and can take you to any tree the druid is familiar with, making it nearly impossible for tax collectors to be waiting on the other side. Unfortunately druids tend to be a lot less willing to aid smugglers, so your best bet might be a bard using spells that don't belong to his list.
With these methods of long range teleportation not only does trade get easier, but it also becomes possible to colonize or inhabit far away places. For instance if someone finds a gold mine in the antarctic you could set up a mine and bring food and other supplies via teleportation.
​
Major Image (6th level slot).
Major Image is a 3rd level spell that creates an illusion over a 20ft cube, complete with image, sound, smell and temperature. When cast with a 6th level slot or higher, it lasts indefinitely.
That my friends, is a huge spell. Why get the world's best painter to decorate the ceiling of your cathedral when you can just get an illusion made in six seconds?
The uses for decorating large buildings is already good, but remember: we're not restricted to sight.
Cast this on a room and it'll always be cool and smell nice. Inns would love that, as would anyone who always sleeps or works in the same room. Desert cities have never been so chill.
You can even use an illusion to make the front of your shop seem flashier, while hollering on loop to bring customers in.
The only limit to this spell is your imagination, though I'm pretty sure it was originally made just to hide secret passages.
Trivia: the ki-rin (VGM163) can cast Major Image as a 6th level spell, at will. It's probably meant to give them fabulous lairs yet all it takes is someone doing the holy horsey a big favor, and it could enchant the whole city in a few hours. Shiniest city on the planet, always at a nice temperature and with a fragrance of lilac, gooseberries or whatever you want.
​
Simulacrum (7th).
Spend 12 hours and 1500gp worth of ruby dust, and get a clone of yourself. Notably, each caster can only have one simulacrum, regardless of who the person he cloned is.
How this changes the world? By allowing the rich and powerful to be in two places at once. Kings now have a perfect impersonator who thinks just like them. A wealthy banker can run two branches of his company. Etc.
This makes life much easier, but also competes with Continual Flame over resources.
It also gives "go fuck yourself" a whole new meaning, making the sentence a valid Suggestion.
​
Clone (8th).
If there's one spell i despise, its Clone.
Wizard-only preemptive resurrection. Touch spell, costs 1.000gp worth of diamonds each time, takes 120 days to come into effect, and creates a copy of the creature that the soul occupies if the original dies. Oh, and the copy can be made younger.
Why is it so despicable? Because it makes people effectively immortal. Accidents and assassinations just get you sent to the clone, and old age can be forever delayed because you keep going back to younger versions of yourself. Being a touch spell means the wizard can cast it on anyone he wants.
In other words: high level wizards, and only wizards, get to make anyone immortal.
That means wizards will inevitably rule any world in which this spell exists.
Think about it. Rulers want to live forever. Wizards can make you live forever. Wizards want other stuff, which you must give them if you want to continue being Cloned. Rulers who refuse this deal eventually die, rulers who accept stick around forever. Natural selection makes it so that eventually the only rulers left are those who sold their soul to wizards. Figuratively, i hope.
The fact that there are only a handful of wizards out there who are high enough level to cast the spell means its easier for them organize and/or form a cartel or union (cartels/unions are easier to maintain the fewer suppliers are involved).
This leads to a dystopian scenario where mages rule, kings are authoritarian pawns and nobody else has a say in anything. Honestly it would make for a fun campaign in and of itself, but unless that's specifically what you're going for it'll just derail everything else.
Oh, and Clone also means any and all liches are absolute idiots. Liches are people who turned themselves into undead abominations in order to gain eternal life at the cost of having to feed on souls. They're all able to cast 9th level wizard spells, so why not just cast an 8th level one and keep undeath away? Saves you the trouble of going after souls, and you keep the ability to enjoy food or a day in the sun.
​
Demiplane (8th).
Your own 30ft. room of nothingness. Perfect place for storage and a DM's nightmare given how once players have access to it they'll just start looting furniture and such. Oh the horror.
But alas, infinite storage is not the reason this is a broken spell. No sir.
Remember: you can access someone else's demiplane. That means a caster in city 1 can put things into a demiplane, and a caster in city 2 can pull them out of any surface.
But wait, there's more! There's nothing anywhere saying you can't have two doors to the same demiplane open at once. Now you're effectively opening a portal between two places, which stays open for a whole hour.
But wait, there's even more! Anyone from any plane can open a door to your neat little demiplane. Now we can get multiple casters from multiple planes connecting all of those places, for one hour. Sure this is a very expensive thing to do since you're having to coordinate multiple high level individuals in different planes, but the payoff is just as high. We're talking about potential integration between the most varied markets imaginable, few things in the multiverse are more valuable or profitable. Its a do-it-yourself Sigil.
One little plot hook i like about demiplanes is abandoned/inactive ones. Old wizard/warlock died, and nobody knows how to access his demiplanes. Because he's at least level 15 you just know there's some good stuff in there, but nobody can get to it. Now the players have to find a journal, diary, stored memory or any other way of knowing enough about the demiplane to access it.
​
True Polymorph (9th).
True Polymorph. The spell that can turn any race into any other race, or object. And vice-versa. You can go full fairy godmother and turn mice into horses. For a spell that can change anything about one's body it would not be an unusual ruling to say it can change one's sex. At the very least it can turn a man into a chair, and the chair into a woman (or vice-versa of course).
But honestly, that's just the tip of the True Polymorph iceberg. Just read this more carefully:
> You transform the creature into a different creature, the creature into a nonmagical object, or the object into a creature
This means you can turn a rock or twig into a human. A fully functional human with, as far as the rules go, a soul. You can create life.
But wait, there's more! Nothing there says you have to turn the target into a known creature on an existing creature. The narcissist bard wants to create a whole race of people who look like him? True Polymorph. A player wants to play a weird ass homebrew race and you have no idea how it would fit into the setting? True Polymorph. Wizard needs a way to quickly populate a kingdom and doesn't want to wait decades for the subjects to grow up? True Polymorph. Warlock must provide his patron 100 souls in order to free his own? True Polymorph. The sorcerer wants to do something cool? Fuck that guy, sorcerers don't get any of the fun high level spells; True Poly is available to literally every arcane caster but the sorcerer.
Note: what good is Twinned Spell if all the high level twinnable spells have been specifically made unavailable to sorcerers?
Do keep in mind however that this brings a whole new discussion on human rights. Does a table have rights? Does it have rights after being turned into a living thing? If it had an owner, is it now a slave? Your country will need so many new laws, just to deal with this one spell.
People often say that high level wizards are deities for all intents and purposes. This is the utmost proof of that. Clerics don't get to create life out of thin air, wizards do. The cleric worships a deity, the wizard is the deity.
​
Conclusion.
Intelligent creatures not only can game the system, but it is entirely in character for them to do so. I'll even argue that if humanoids don't use magic to improve their lives when it's available, you're pushing the suspension of disbelief.
With this post i hope to have helped you make more complex and realistic societies, as well as provide a few interesting and unusual plot hooks
Lastly, as much as i hate comment begging i must admit i am eager to see what spells other players think can completely change the world. Because at the end of the day we all know that extra d6 damage is not what causes empires to rise and fall, its the utility spells that make the best stories.
​
Edit: Added spell level to all spells, and would like to thank u/kaul_field for helping with finishing touches and being overall a great mod.

Madison
I thrust my sword and grunted with effort as I did so.
The new armor that Ragna had designed was insanely heavy, terribly cumbersome, and I was shocked at its poor design in that regard.
Ragna watched me as I managed as best I could before she finally stopped me, “just as I expected.”
“Did you design this armor out of lead, Ragna?” I asked. In private we would drop the formalities.
As monstrous as Ragna was in public, in these private moments, she was almost human. Today more so than usual.
The new armor was thicker than I recalled. I wondered if this was an attempt to respond to the sniper shot that damaged my armor, and shoulder, last time.
The fact that we were now marching against the United States of America probably had a whole lot to do with it.
“For Theodora,” I thought to myself. It brought me out of my self imposed retirement. I knew my old country had been in charge of some fucked up shit.
Deposing fascist dictators left and right, poisoning world leaders, kicking out democratically elected officials who were ‘against the interest of national security’, and so on.
I guess it’s different when it happens to someone who didn’t deserve it, like Theodora.
I had met Theodora plenty of times. She was a wide-eyed and sweet girl. Sure she could be crass at times but I remember hearing her talk about peace plenty of times in the Palace. The girl wasn’t a warmonger. It gave me hope for the future of Penthesil.
But now? I was infuriated as the rest of Penthesil. We had all agreed: the US had their time as a superpower. Now, that time has come to an end.
“Draw your other sword,” Ragna asked.
I frowned, “the chaos blade?” I asked. I had no other word for it.
Ragna nodded.
I drew the blade and, to my shock, everything changed.
I couldn’t help but smile, the sword in my hand seemed to sync up with my armor and the armor became light as a feather. My armor itself changed colors and I felt strange energy surrounding me.
“Oh that’s…” my eyes unfocused and I felt a bit dizzy, “that’s kinda cool.”
Ragna lifted an eyebrow as I grabbed the sword with both hands.
I swung the sword and imagined the violence and destruction I’d reap with this thing. I jumped up into the air as if I was held down by nothing and sliced a dummy in half, my eyes and ears filling with the cacophony of battle.
“Drop it, Maddy, please,” Ragna pleaded.
Without hesitation, I dropped the sword.
I knew better than to skip an order from Ragna. As the sword left my hands I dropped to my knees. I turned to Ragna, “What the fuck was that? I felt…”
“Insane, I’m guessing? It appeared as if a bloodlust came over you,” Ragna helped me up, concern on her face.
I nodded, “I wouldn’t call it bloodlust,” I turned to the sword, “...it was a desire for chaos.”
Ragna nodded, “I see. I suppose that makes sense. Your patron Goddess imbued that blade after all.”
“Yeah,” I flexed the armor, watching the color drain from it and it’s weight return, “What kind of armor is this?”
“Armor that shifts energy signatures and synchronizes with the wavelengths of the user,” Ragna said as she bent down to pick up the blade herself.
“Meaning…?” I asked, hoping to get the layman’s version of whatever Ragna was explaining. She always addressed me as if I too were some hyper-intelligent alien/angel creature, like herself.
Ragna’s normal moment of prideful triumph wasn’t there as expected. Her eyes were mournful as she sheathed the sword for me, gently helping me out of the armor.
“It means,” Ragna began, helping me out of the heavy breastplate, “that if you have a powerful enough aura, the armor syncs with it, draws from it, and helps to evenly distribute that energy.”
Ragna’s eyes were full of concern and stress and I swear I could see the thousands of thoughts rushing through her head through her eyes. I decided to use the rare trump card I had, as she was beyond troubled.
“Sellenia,” I asked, “what’s wrong?”
Ragna’s eyes stopped their million thoughts a second as she fixed her eyes on me, her expression still stoic, “Madison, we have discussed you calling me by my old name-”
“What’s wrong?” I pried further.
Ragna lifted the breastplate off of me and the difference in weight was a relief on my lower back. “Your son, do you often think of his future?”
“Everyday,” I smiled a bit, “and the future of all the reclaimed, to be honest, Ragna.”
Ragna nodded.
“Can I ask you, completely and honestly,” I decided to hit at a softer subject before broaching what was really getting to her, “you got furious when I first explained abortions to you. Why?”
Ragna scoffed, “this again?”
“I’m going into battle and I might not come back,” I pleaded, “I’d like to know what it is that makes my friend act as she does.”
Ragna’s smile didn’t come back as I expected, whatever had her down, it was weighing hard on her. “When I was young, I didn’t put much stock in childbearing,” she heaved a sigh, her hand idly caressing her stomach. “I focused on fighting, killing, and taking what little sexual pleasure I could from the rare enough lovers I could find.”
“Sounds fun,” I attempted to joke.
Ragna still didn’t smile, “for me it wasn’t as frequent. But for Xyphiel, however? Oh, but did he have it easy? Being the ‘acceptable’ sexual orientation meant that he didn’t have to spend half the time convincing some woman to lay with him.” Ragna rolled her eyes.
“Too bad you didn’t find Penthesil sooner,” I remarked.
Ragna nodded solemnly, “it wasn’t long into our conquest of a particular world that it started. A woman came to Xyphiel carrying a child. She claimed the spawn she had created was Xyphiel’s. She said it was cursed because when it was born she tried to kill it and it would not die.”
“Oh,” I gasped, shocked, “okay.”
“At first,” Ragna admitted, “I didn’t think much of the little girl in the woman’s arms. But as she grew up? I fell in love with my first niece.”
“First?” I frowned.
“My brother’s rather virile,” Ragna explained and sighed, “Sume is such a sweet girl.”
“I’ve never met Sume, I don’t think, have I?” I asked.
Ragna shook her head, “she never leaves the library,” a smile finally cracked on Ragna’s face before fading entirely. “The thought that Sume wouldn’t be here, just because the mother was either raped by Xyphiel or because her mother didn’t want her always struck a nerve with me.”
I was surprised the reasoning wasn’t that of science, but emotion. Ragna was normally all science with policy, not emotion.
“By the time Sume was an adult, I had long since passed menopause,” Ragna turned to me, “Immortality for women is quite different. Xyphiel can fuck every woman in the universe and not lose potency, but I only had so many eggs before I ran out. That is why I developed my own method of having children,” Ragna explained. “It took me so long to develop, to the point where I even needed assistance to conquer a scientific roadblock.”
“A roadblock? For you?” I mocked.
“Stop brown-nosing,” Ragna mocked me back.
“Brown nosing? You want to hear brown-nosing?” I bowed low, “Oh Great Empress of Penthesil, what great mystery of the universe halted your great scientific endeavors!”
“Shut up, Maddy,” Ragna smiled at me, shaking her head. Ragna’s smile slowly weakened, “I had an issue with finding a method to encapsulate the split DNA into a multitude of compatible spermatozoa that were capable of impregnation.”
“But you figured it out eventually, right?” I asked.
“Not me,” she sighed, “Moria, a brilliant scientist on Adridia. She was compelled by another reason than myself. While I hoped to make a child for my future lover and I, Moria’s reasons were to show that a same-sex couple could, indeed, bear and raise a child together.”
“And adoption wasn’t possible?” I asked, having recently adopted myself, I couldn’t help but constantly talk about the wonderful feeling of caring for a child. Adonis was a beautiful baby. I loved him as my own and would do anything for him.
“On Adridia you could be hung for being homosexual,” Ragna explained, “Moria’s work, and her sexual orientation, was done entirely underground and I happily assisted.”
I flinched, Ragna’s stance starting to make sense.
“So, Moria and I worked for months to crack this code, to fight for our rights as women to have children however we pleased, with the person we loved,” Ragna sighed heavily, “...so when you first told me that there were women here who just cast aside such an opportunity? Who would kill little children like Sume, who would discard a gift that some of us would claw and fight for?” Ragna’s fist clenched, “it infuriated me.”
Getting this much insight into Ragna was common for me, but at the same time, it was something I was shocked to hear. Ragna would open up so much to me, and while I had opened up to her plenty about my feelings, I had nowhere near the life experiences that Ragna had. Not that it was a competition.
“So that’s why you pushed the Reclamation Project for women who wanted to abort their pregnancy?” I asked.
“Yes,” Ragna looked to her clenched fist, slowly opening it and staring at her palm, “If they didn’t want to be the mother’s of these beautiful children, then I would take on that responsibility.”
“As long as women can avoid unwanted pregnancy,” I reminded Ragna.
Ragna rolled her eyes, “I do so hate when you call them that.”
“It’s what they are, Ragna,” I pointed out.
“Your son is one of those, unwanted, is he not?” Ragna asked, “and you, do you not want him?”
I smiled, “Adonis is very much wanted by me and Hilly, but he was unwanted by his mother,” I argued.
“Well,” Ragna sighed, “now it’s a moot point, isn’t it? Now the women who wish to discard their children can do so,” Ragna looked to the door as I heard it open, “and the lives of those unborn can be preserved.”
I turned to see Zepherina walking towards us.
I had to take a step back.
Sure, I had seen the video of what had happened to Princess Zepherina before. But to be in her presence as she stalked towards Ragna, her eyes full of nothing but violet fire and murderous intent? It sent a chill down my spine.
I hoped the excited and child-like girl that had jumped down into a mosh-pit all those years ago was still in there. Then again, I thought back to that lighter moment, Theodora was with her then.
Theodora and Zepherina were so close, even then.
“Preserving life? Like you would know anything about that,” Zepherina sneered at Ragna.
I saluted, “Princess Zepherina.”
Zepherina’s fiery eyes shifted to me and I shivered as they did so.
“What have you done to poor Madison?” Zepherina said, shocked.
I blinked, “You… remember me?”
“You were with Captain Hillieve at the concert a few years ago,” Zepherina recalled, “you were in the royal balcony with me and…” her face fell.
I frowned, my heart going out to Zepherina as what was once a joyful memory filled her with despair. “Theodora’s memory will be avenged, Zepherina,” I tried to assure.
Zepherina’s normally happy face was nowhere to be found, even her wings had changed. They didn’t even look like feathers anymore but like a series of blades attached to her wings.
Zepherina’s mournful expression shifted to anger once more as she turned to Ragna, “why did you call me here?”
Ragna turned and walked to a large case, she picked it up with a grunt. I recognized it as a similar case that my armor had been housed in, granted this looked far larger. “I have a small gift for you. Consider it a small token of my affection."
As Ragna placed the case at Zepherina’s feet Zepherina sneered at her, "affection? I didn't know you were capable of affection.”
I flinched at the verbal jab Zepherina hurled and I couldn’t imagine the pain it caused Ragna. Ragna had nothing but love for Zepherina. Zepherina had none for her mother.
Though, to be completely fair, I couldn’t blame her.
“Open it,” Ragna instructed.
Zepherina scoffed at Ragna, then looked down at the case and got to her knees, popping opened the locks and opening the case.
The armor was larger than mine, but Zepherina was larger than me.
Zepherina’s hand touched the armor and as it did I watched as the armor pulsed and glowed with incredible energy.
I had to take a step back as the armor activated.
When Zepherina’s hand moved away, the energy died down slightly, “What is that?”
“It will help to evenly distribute your power,” Ragna explained, “it gels with your energy, the armor is as strong as the aura of its user.”
Zepherina looked it over, then without much hesitation, she pulled her shirt off, and began to don her armor.
As she touched each component, I was shocked as the armor shifted from an off-white to a jet black with violet trim. It was as if the armor became a part of Zepherina.
Zepherina clenched her fists and gave a few knocks to the armor here and there, “feels solid.”
Ragna nodded, walking back into another room and returned with a larger case.
This case was huge, even for Ragna, and she moved it with considerable difficulty as she placed the heavy case down on the ground.
“What’s this?” Zepherina asked, confused.
“Too big to be called a sword,” Ragna commented as she flicked open the case, revealing what Ragna described. A massive blade that was as wide as a normal sword would is long, and obscenely lengthy from to boot.
My eyes nearly leap out of their skull as I saw the size of this thing.
Zepherina looked up to Ragna, confusion on her face, “what did you say?”
“Massive, thick, heavy and far too rough,” Ragna continued, “more of a heap of raw iron, though in this case, raw Crystoleum,” Ragna boasted.
Zepherina knelt over the ridiculous looking thing, her gauntlet clad hand moving over the weapon. As she touched it, it turned black like her armor. The hilt shifted as well, a violet light pulsing along it’s edge, the seal of Penthsil was proudly on the pommel, with the old seal sitting prominently at the center of the hilt.
“I spoke to your momma and she told me you had some particular tastes,” Ragna smiled.
Zepherina looked up from the ground, her expression still one of anger, “so, what, now I’m supposed to love you?” Zepherina sneered.
Ragna’s smile vanished, “I don’t expect an ‘I love you’ but a ‘thank you’ wouldn’t kill you.”
“I don’t know,” Zepherina got to her feet, “it might," she snickered.
Ragna’s lip quivered for a moment, “I am trying with you, Zepherina.”
“Stop,” Zepherina snapped, “it’s not worth it because I will never accept that you're my mother.”
I bit my lip, taking a step back from the pair as they clashed.
“So, just using me to get your revenge then?” Ragna narrowed her eyes.
“As long as you’ll let me,” Zepherina’s eyes blazed with a newfound heat, “unless you think you can stop me if I strike out on my own.”
Ragna was glaring at Zepherina, her eyes looking furious, but I knew Ragna wasn’t angry.
She was hurt. Badly hurt.
“I suppose I will just see you tomorrow for your training,” Ragna said as she stormed off.
I heard a door slam as Ragna left the room.
Zepherina knelt by the sword once more.
“...she does love you,” I said softly behind Zepherina.
“I know,” Zepherina said as she moved her hand over the huge sword, gripping the handle and lifting it with ease. She held the sword out in front of her, the thing as long as she was tall. “I’m sure this sword wasn’t easy to make,” she gave a wide swing to the right and I felt the air in the room swirl as she did so.
“So, you won’t let her in at all?” I asked.
Zepheirna turned to me, looking me up and down, “Did you let her in?”
I nodded, “She helped me become a warrior and not just a Hestie.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a Hestie,” Zepherina said, placing the sword back in its case, closing it tightly. “Hesties raise our children and keep our homes while we’re at war. Anyone who diminishes the Hesties and the House of Hestia isn’t a true Penthesilean Valkyrie.”
I smiled, “I bet Launa would be happy to hear that.”
Zepherina frowned, “Launa’s terrified of me.”
“Oh,” I swallowed hard, as I wasn’t necessarily calm when Zepherina first showed up.
“What’s scary about me now?” Zepherina asked.
“What?” I gasped.
“Why are you terrified?” Zepherina turned to me, the fire in her eyes now replaced by soft wisps of violet smoke, rising from her void-filled sockets and over her brow. Her eyes had emotion still, I could see her brow furrowed and the smoke within her eyes was moving in soft, gentle motions.
“I think… we’re just afraid you’ve…” I cleared my throat and steeled myself, ready to take on whatever would come. “We’re afraid that you’ve snapped. That Theodora’s death has pushed you over the edge and that you’re going to destroy anyone that crosses you.”
I figured if she did kill me, she would have at least heard the truth.
Zepherina’s face didn’t twist to anger, instead, her hands shook and she fell to her knees, her face in her hands. Zepherina’s shoulders lurched as she began to sob.
At first, I turned from her to give her privacy as she cried, as was the Valkyrie way. But my heart ached for her pain. I closed my eyes tight. Shit… my passion for Rachel is removed but I must have some kind of maternal love for Zepherina… I turned and knelt next to her, my heartbreaking as she sobbed tearlessly into her hands. “I’m sorry, I should have phrased that differently.”
Zepherina looked up to me, her eye’s smoke looking more like a pair of boiling points of water, “But you’re right! I did lose control and I don’t know what might happen if I lose control again.”
I looked to her armor, placing my hand on her shoulder, “well, Ragna said this armor is supposed to absorb and distribute your strength. Maybe Ragna’s trying to help you focus your strength to help you?”
Zepherina sniffled, instinctively moving to dry her eyes, despite there being no tears, “our training isn't helping in that department.”
“How so?” I asked.
“I don’t have a limit,” Zepherina confessed.
…
Xyphiel
I flexed my hands and flinched as I felt the pain of my severed body below.
Ragna was going to leave me here, like this? That bitch! I had questioned her judgment before, but now? Now I knew she had lost her way.
The ruthless warrior now thought herself a Queen.
I would have to remind her of her place.
As I lamented my position, I looked out of the cylinder, spotting Bella approaching.
She spoke out loud and I could only hear her voice muffled through the water and glass.
I closed my eyes, speaking directly to her mind, “Speak in your mind Bella and I will hear you.”
When my eyes opened I saw Bella smiling wickedly, “Xyphiel, I’m happy to see you’re alive. I see you’ve run afoul of the Angel Timothy.”
I narrowed my eyes, “You knew of Timothy?!”
Bella nodded, “Timothy, Jason, Father Thomas, Trevor, and Lilith,” she confessed, “all have crossed me at some point or another. Father Thomas first, but Timothy was the angel that helped save that fool priest.”
My anger boiled over and the pain of my severed body was the only thing that kept me from shifting to my Niten form. “Why did you not tell me?” I demanded.
“Tell you? Why would I tell you my life story, Xyphiel?” Bella asked, “Our love is still fresh. How do I know that I can trust you implicitly?” Bella reasoned, crossing her arms and giving me an indigent look.
“Because that information could have saved me from being bisected!” I shouted into Bella’s mind.
Bella’s look softened and she sighed, “Then I’m sorry. Years of having to guard myself have left me with high walls. I rarely let anyone in,” Bella smiled softly to me, “you’re the only man to be so deep inside me.”
The double entendre notwithstanding, I decided to clear the air. “Timothy is my son,” I explained.
Bella took a step back, “Timothy? The Angel Timothy is your son?” Bella asked, clearly bewildered.
“Yes, that’s right,” I confirmed, “Rachel is his mother.”
“Oh, Rachel?” Bella grinned to me, “that harlot? My God Xyphiel, do you know how to pick them…”
I growled, “I assume you’ve seen her hanging off of my sister Ragna at every turn?”
“I see, so that brute of a woman stole her from you?” Bella mused.
“Yes,” I hissed into Bella’s mind.
“What an absolute bitch of a sister you have!” Bella gasped. She looked over the cylinder I was inside, “When is she going to get you back on your feet?”
“She has no immediate plans,” I explained.
Bella’s eyes narrowed, “oh, that will not do…” her grin then came back, more than devilish as her teeth changed to the set of interlocking jaws that appeared sharp enough to bite steel, “I’ll be right back.”
In an instant, Bella vanished in a puff of black smoke. It was only a few moments later that she arrived with a man about my height, who I suspected was one of the colonists.
The man shouted in dismay, turning to me, his eyes widened as he looked to me and cried out in shock.
Bella smiled, “Do you want to be out of there right now?”
“Yes,” I affirmed. I had an idea of what Bella had planned.
Magic often required an offering to be effective.
Black Magic, especially.
“What are you willing to give?” Bella asked, “will you sacrifice this man’s life for your ability to walk again?”
I grinned, “I’d sacrifice the entire lot of them.”
Bella squealed in delight, “I’ll be right back!”
Bella soon popped in and out with a few more colonists, four in total.
I grinned as they all grew more afraid as Bella’s hands started glowing with dark power, “Get me out of here, my Bella.”
…
Timothy
I was in the vault, going over the items we had in our possession. What could best be used to kill Xyphiel?
I turned to see a spear tip, blackened with blood. I walked over to it and took it in my hands.
Xei’s knife fighting lessons came to mind, and I gave a thrust with the spear. This would help.
“Why are you here taking the Spearhead of Longinus?” Sofia’s voice came from the door.
I turned and saw Sofia standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and her wings spread wide.
“You’re actually going through with it?” Sofia narrowed her eyes on me.
I got to my feet, tucking the Spearhead into a satchel with some other artifacts I had collected, “God says Only the Sundered Child, not The Sundered Child and his soldiers.”
“Am I just your soldier then?” Sofia narrowed her eyes on me, her anger growing.
I approached her, “I am possibly going to die, I’m the one putting myself at risk-”
“I’ve already lost you once!” Sofia shouted, tears welling up in her eyes, “I’m not losing you again!” She shouted. “That’s why I did this to myself, Tim! That’s why I burned my eyes out by looking as deep into Samael’s vision as I could! Because I wanted to be your sword because I wanted to be yours forever!” Sofia shouted, tears now flowing from her milky eyes.
My heart broke as she cried before me.
“Forever isn’t supposed to end! Forever is always, not just a few months! I won’t let you-” Sofia was cut off as I kissed her, pushing her against the wall and holding her tight.
Tears fell from my eyes as we crushed against each other.
Sofia resisted for a second before she pushed back against me, her tongue invading my mouth with passion and desire.
By the time we broke the kiss both of us were short of breath, my forehead was lowered against hers.
For a brief moment, I thought I saw the milkiness of her eyes vanish, “Make love to me, right now, and don’t you dare fucking stop!” Sofia demanded.
I locked the door to the vault, grabbed Sofia’s shirt, and ripped it opened.
Sofia gasped as I tore her shirt off, exposing her bra, “Tim!”
I pulled the shirt down her arms and began to kiss at her neck, causing her to let out another gasp.
“T-this doesn’t get you out of trouble!” Sofia breathlessly defended as I pushed her pants down, eliciting a groan of desire from Sofia. “A-and…” Sofia shuddered as I pressed her against the wall, “you owe me a new shirt…!”
I kissed her again and both of her hands were on the back of my head as we pressed against each other.
Every moment of passion was treated as if each press, thrust, or embrace was bringing us closer together.
I wished I could have laid there with her forever like Sofia wanted. Like I wanted.
…
After hours, we lay on the floor of the vault, Sofia laying next to me, her arm over my chest, snoring contentedly.
I glanced at Sofia, guilt taking me as what she said sank into me: “That’s why I did this to myself, Tim! That’s why I burned my eyes…”
I kissed her forehead softly, tears leaking from my eyes, “I’m sorry. If I could take it back, I would,” I whispered.
Sofia shifted slightly but didn’t wake.
I wished Sofia was her old self. Then I could at least choose mortality with her, and the two of us could grow old together. I shut my eyes tightly and imagined a world where Sofia and I had a normal life.
I would come home from my tour of duty, and we’d move in together. We’d meet each other’s parents, I would propose. Tears ran down my cheeks as I imagined a life we’d never have, never could.
My arm pulled her close to me as my heart skipped a beat, “Maybe in my next life…” I swallowed my sorrow down and took one more deep breath. “But this life’s fate? It’s sealed.”
…
Ragna
I watched in the observation room as Zepherina practiced her stances with the forcefield golems I often trained with.
“Horse stance and strike,” I instructed through the intercom.
Her strikes were growing more precise, less sloppy. I eyed the gravity readout, it was pinned hard at 24x the normal planet’s gravity. Rage was unable to increase the gravity in the room any higher, we lacked the graviton control power. Sadly, while using seawater to cool the systems was an easy modification, nothing was as effective as using the vacuum of space as a heatsink.
Still, Zepherina’s strength was limitless. This bodes poorly for a few reasons, but not immediately.
“Is this strength just a fluke?” I reasoned quietly. “She can’t be the only one, can she? Is my daughter the strongest being alive?”
Rage interrupted my thought process. “Incoming transmission from Timothy Crestfall.”
“Timothy?” I said, the intercom accidentally still opened.
Zepherina stopped her training, looking in my direction, “Timothy?”
“Rage, end the training system,” I ordered as I headed into the training room, the gravity normalizing.
“How high was the gravity?” Zepherina asked.
“Twenty four,” I explained.
“I didn’t even feel it,” Zepherina informed, disappointed.
“You served under Timothy, any clue why he’s trying to reach out to me now?” I asked.
Zepherina narrowed her eyes, “Timothy didn’t even tell me you were my mother. Why would he tell me any of his plans?”
“Well,” I smiled, “seems you, and I both have some business with Timothy.”
Zepherina walked past me, her attitude not yet softening.
I walked out after her and after Zepherina took a wrong turn down the hallway, I shouted, “The bridge is this way!”
Zepherina turned around and grumbled, “try some fucking signs in this place.”
She stormed past me, and I couldn’t help but smile at her.
I walked behind her, grinning at her frustrations. “What if she doesn’t love you at all?” I thought to myself. Oddly the thought crossed my mind as I came to a stop at the door which led to the bar. I blinked, turning to look inside.
I hadn’t meant to stop here. Was it just a habit?
Zepherina was next to me, giving me an odd look, “...that’s not the bridge, right?”
“No,” I said flatly, “It’s not.”
“No wonder you get lost here,” she motioned, “why is nothing labeled?”
I laughed, “open your mind to Rage, you’ll see the labels clearly,” I explained to Zepherina.
Zepherina scoffed and continued down the hallway.
I caught up with her, walking side by side with her. I, again, could not help but smile being near her.
When we reached the bridge, I saw Timothy’s face appear on the screen.
“Timothy,” I smiled, “I missed you.”
“Zepherina,” Timothy said, ignoring me, “how are you holding up?”
“Fine,” Zepherina said flatly, “can’t you tell?”
“I heard about Theodora, I’m so sorry Zeph,” Timothy offered, sorrow in his eyes.
“It was your government that did it, Timothy” Zepherina narrowed her now fiery eyes.
“Well, thanks to our mother, I’m no longer associated with them,” Timothy said, turning to me.
Zepherina turned to me, “what did you do now?”
“I told the truth, was that so terrible?” I confessed, smiling, “shouldn’t you be asking Timothy your own question?”
“I know the answer,” Zepherina spat.
“Oh?” I asked, “what is that answer?”
“Timothy was trying to spare me the knowledge that you were my mother. Frankly? I thank him for keeping it from me as long as he did,” Zepherina confessed. “I wish I didn’t know!”
I frowned at Zepherina and glanced at Timothy, “I assume you didn’t call just to tell me that you’re upset that I burned your bridges with the US.”
Timothy’s eyes narrowed, “I’m certain you have him on life support. I’m asking you to unplug him. Let him die.”
I sighed, “I can’t kill my own brother.”
“But Xyphiel can kill one of my brothers?” Timothy shouted.
Zerpherina’s attention snapped to the screen, “What? What did you just say?!”
“Elon…” Timothy heaved a heavy sigh, “Elon is dead, Zepherina. Alexis and Syria killed Elon on Xyphiel’s orders.”
Zepherina turned to me, fire burning in her eyes, “You! No!” Zepherina rushed towards me blindly before she was stopped by a field I was more than familiar with.
I spun on my heel and spotted Xyphiel, on his feet, seemingly himself, again! Next to him stood Bella, smiling wickedly.
Zepherina screamed, “You killed Elon?!”
I frowned at Zepherina, “I did no such thing, my fight was with you alone!”
Xypheil, however, merely grinned at Zepherina, “If ‘Elon’ was the undead sniper, then yes, that was done on my order.”
Zepherina roared in anger and charged at Xyphiel.
“Zepherina!” I shouted, “Don’t!”
Xyphiel lifted an eyebrow and in a flash unfurled his cape.
“Don’t hurt her!” I shouted.
Xyphiel hurled the cape over Zepherina, Zepherina vanishing in an instant. “You know where you can pick her up, Ragna. My son and I have some things to discuss.”
I narrowed my eyes to Xyphiel, “the vault dimension, really?”
“Don’t make me shut it,” Xyphiel’s grin grew, “or your daughter will find herself stuck there for the next ten years or ten minutes… time being relative and all.”
Timothy now spoke, “Father, you and I will speak shortly,” he turned to me, “but first I want to speak to my mother, face-to-face.”
I turned to Timothy, keeping a wary eye on Xyphiel. “Rage, open the vault door please, make sure Xyphiel can’t turn on the time dilation.” I sent the order to Rage quickly.
“Confirmed, vault door is opened,” Rage reported.
“Fine, Timothy,” I turned to Xyphiel, “and your father?”
Timothy turned to Xyphiel and Bella, “I’ll meet Xyphiel, alone, at the following coordinates. There he can try, and fail, to convince me to come home.”
“Coordinates received,” Rage announced.
“And where will I meet you?” I asked.
“Come to the Christian Church in Penthesil and you’ll receive further communications,” Timothy informed before the line went dead.
I nodded, turning on my heel and running towards the vault. I came to a stop in the hallway outside of it, finding Zepherina slamming her fist into a very dented wall.
I heaved a sigh, walking towards her, “I’m sorry your comrade is dead.”
Zepherina glared at me, “you killed Elon!” she got to her feet, “Elon was the sweetest man I had ever met! Elon was a good person! And you killed him! How could you?!”
“I didn’t kill him!” I defended, weakly, “Xyphiel does his own thing! I was not there to kill anyone. I was only there to bring you and Evangeline home.”
Zepherina’s lip quivered, “you’re still Xyphiel’s ally.”
“He is my brother!” I shouted, “yes.”
“Until he isn’t…” Zepherina turned her back to me, “I want nothing to do with you.”
My heart sank, “Zeph-”
“Fuck off, Ragna!” Zepherina said, lifting both of her middle fingers to me as she walked away.
I turned, walking down the hallway. I was walking the hallways in a bit of a daze. I finally stopped, blinking the fresh tears from my eyes. By the time I could see again, I realized I was outside the bar once more.
I swallowed hard, my throat feeling dry.
“Timothy is waiting for you,” I thought to myself. “Probably to tell you that he hates you too.”
The bar looked inviting.
May any happiness you ever have be tainted by greater sorrow!
I clenched my fist and powered past the bar, heading to Rachel. Timothy would meet his mother. He’d meet with both of us. There was a chance, a slim, tiny chance I could salvage this.
I can salvage my existence.
…
Timothy
I stood outside of Penthesil, knowing Tasha would take Ragna from the church, to where I stood, waiting.
A pair of guards were standing at the top of the wall, looking down at me.
As the gates opened, I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect. But, there they were, Tasha and Ragna. Rachel was there as well, which put me on edge.
Rachel smiled at me, “Timothy!” she exclaimed as she rushed towards me.
What was she doing here? Did she expect a hug? For what? Ditching me with a megalomaniac rapist that even she was afraid to be around?
I stopped her before she got too close, “I asked for my mother. What is she doing here?”
Rachel stopped, turning to Ragna, “Timothy, she’s my wife and-”
“I was not speaking to you, Rachel,” I spat.
Rachel turned to me, confusion on her face.
Ragna stepped towards me, “Timothy, please, Rachel loves you.”
“Oh, really? I wouldn’t know,” I growled.
Rachel’s eyes grew wet, “Timothy, I don’t… what are you saying?”
“You’re the woman who gave birth to me, but you’re not my mother. You were not there for me,” I hissed
“I couldn’t be!” Rachel shouted in an attempt to defend her actions, “I couldn’t be there because-”
“Because you ran away,” I narrowed my eyes on her, “you ran away from me, but worse? You ran away from her!” I pointed to Ragna.
Ragna narrowed her eyes on me, anger in her voice as I was certain I was about to unveil something she had yet to tell Rachel, “Timothy… no.”
“Do you know what my mother did on the anniversary of you leaving?” I shouted.
Ragna closed her eyes tightly, “Timothy, don’t,” she growled.
“She would drink herself into oblivion! Because she couldn’t handle the fact that you left us on that day!” I shouted.
Rachel turned to Ragna, shocked. “Is that true?” Rachel asked Ragna.
“Yes. It’s true. I drank to run from the pain of being alone. But, Timothy, there’s something you should know.” Ragna whispered, opening her eyes and looking at me with a truly hurt expression, “I drank every single night after the day you left me.”
I gasped, and my heart sank as I imagined Ragna, my mother, slumped over a bar in constant sorrow at the thought of me being kidnapped or worse.
“Day in and day out,” Ragna confessed to us, “because I thought that not only might you be dead, but worse that you might be getting tortured or abused by whoever took you from me. I blamed myself that I had failed my son. Rather than face that terrible truth,” Ragna heaved a sigh, “I climbed into a bottle.”
“Wait,” Rachel cried to Ragna, “Is that why you haven’t drunk a single drop of alcohol since you got here?”
Ragna nodded, “Yes, because when I found you I vowed I wouldn’t go back to that constant drunken existence if you could call it that.”
I had to turn from her, trying to keep my composure, but recalling having to drag Ragna to her bedroom on those terrible days. “Who helped you-”
“No one,” Ragna explained, “Xyphiel would at first, but soon grew tired of me. Eventually, he couldn’t even stand to look at me. My drunkenness was just another constant reminder of my failure to protect our son.” Ragna sighed, “I wanted to escape. Suicide wasn’t an option, so I did the next best thing.”
I steeled myself and turned to face Ragna.
“But you’re alive,” Ragna smiled to me, “alive and well and…” Ragna chuckled, beaming to me.
Was that pride?
Was she proud of me?
Was I pleased by her pride in me? I tried not to show it.
“I wanted to talk, before everything happened,” I said, looking to Tasha.
Tasha turned from me, tears rolling down her cheek.
“I’m here,” Ragna said, “let’s talk.”
“Alone,” I requested.
Ragna pulled out a small device and tossed it up into the air, a gateway opening up before us.
“After you,” I motioned.
Ragna nodded and walked inside.
I followed and she shut the door.
Inside I found a dimly lit room, very nondescript, only a pair of simple chairs.
“The time is dilated pretty extreme here, we can honestly talk for days and only a few minutes will go by,” Ragna explained. “I really wanted to catch up.”
I turned to her and did my very best to hold myself together. “I just… I want to strip our titles away right now. I want just the basics. So while we’re in here, I’m not the Metatron, you’re not the Empress of Penthesil, it’s just you and me… just…”
“Mother and son?” Ragna offered.
I rushed to her and hugged her tight, tears flowing from my eyes.
Finally, my mother Ragna hugged me back. Her hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair comfortingly, “Timothy… I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too,” I sighed as I hugged her tight. After a few moments, I pulled away, looking at her seriously, “Mom, I need to talk to you.”
“Tell me everything, Timothy,” Ragna smiled to me, “We have all the time in the world.”
“Okay,” I relented, “but by the end, I need you to understand that I’m going to ask you for a favor.”
“And what favor is that?” Ragna asked.
“Mom,” I fixed her with a serious gaze, “I need to ask you something. I want you to kill Xyphiel.”

Part 43 is here
Listen up. Do you have a gnawing feeling that something isn't right? A gut instinct? Is your intuition leaving you in a state of vigilance? Is your spidey sense tingling? Do you feel like the truth is hidden in plain sight, but you can't quite see it?
You're not alone.
So what is the truth and why won't they just tell us? They aren't going to tell us the truth because most of us can't handle the truth. They experiment on live subjects in the past, but suddenly they've seen the light? Suddenly they've found morality and embraced truth and ethical behavior?

The Stateville Penitentiary Malaria Study was a controlled study of the effects of malaria on the prisoners of Stateville Penitentiary near Joliet, Illinois, beginning in the 1940s. The study was conducted by the Department of Medicine at the University of Chicago in conjunction with the United States Army and the State Department. At the Nuremberg trials, Nazi doctors cited the precedent of the malaria experiments as part of their defense. Link Here

Any day that Nazi Doctors use your experiment as a defense for Nazi medical experiments is not a good day.
Let me show you one other part of the puzzle that you need to read. Let me show you that at some point the money, power, or even the scientific research can detach some individuals from reality.
"A number of years ago, we talked about, 'What if there wasn't clean water? What if there wasn't enough food?" she said on the radio show. "Where might we go? What might we do as a family?' So, I think we should leave those preparations to ourselves." The only thing they did not prepare, however, was the vaccine or a treatment for the virus that would cause a pandemic, though she acknowledged how "lucky" she and her family are to be in a position of privilege when it comes to dealing with COVID-19. "What we mostly talk about now in our home every night is how lucky we are," she continued. "We understand our privilege. When we say our grace at night, what we're thankful for around the table, is that we aren't struggling to put a meal on the table as so many families around the world are." Link Here
Yep. Sure thing Melinda. You guys just sit around the dinner table (like us normal plebs) and talk about how lucky you are to have food. Then you went out and stocked up your basement. Maybe they hoarded all the toilet paper because they're so full of crap they can use TP to wipe their mouths with after they speak. And what a minute, isn’t hoarding food bad? And aren't billionaires just hoarding cash? Different rules for different people, and it makes no difference what they say publicly when it's still just the same crap.
August 7, 2019 | Many of the world's elite, including hedge fund managers, sports stars and tech executives (Bill Gates is rumored to have bunkers at all his properties) have chosen to design their own secret shelters to house their families and staff. Gary Lynch, general manager of Texas-based Rising S Company, says 2016 sales for their custom high-end underground bunkers grew 700% compared to 2015, while overall sales have grown 300% since the November US presidential election alone. Link Here
So which basements were you stocking Bill? I'm betting you stocked all of them. But that article really made it sound like you personally went grocery shopping, didn't it?
And there's that year again, 2015. The same year as the Bird Man plauge doctor video, coronavirus and bats possible pandemic discovered, CRISPR-Cas9 gene editing went mainstream, and the Billy Boy pandemic warnings started with a Ted Talk, then the Doomsday Bunkers elite MKultra wealthy segment jumped by 700%.
That's not a good sign.
It's all connected. All of it. We might not know how. Or who's doing what. Or how bad our current ELE events will become, but we need to at least get an outline of the big picture, before the big picture turns into the Main Event.
As far as I'm concerned, there is no possible way our present unexplained mysteries aren't prognosticators of upcoming calamities.
No. Way. At. All.
Let's throw the spotlight back onto our pandemic. It's all plain and simple when you accept the government's and the medical community's word at Face(book) value. Our leaders tell us to Keep Calm and Carry On. Just take two official narrative pills and wait for the vaccine. It's all good. Honestly. Listen. Trust. Obey.

1913 to 1951: Dr. Leo Stanley, chief surgeon at the San Quentin Prison, performed a wide variety of experiments on hundreds of prisoners at San Quentin. Many of the experiments involved testicular implants, where Stanley would take the testicles out of executed prisoners and surgically implant them into living prisoners. In other experiments, he attempted to implant the testicles of rams, goats, and boars into living prisoners. Stanley also performed various eugenics experiments, and forced sterilizations on San Quentin prisoners.[13] Stanley believed that his experiments would rejuvenate old men, control crime (which he believed had biological causes), and prevent the "unfit" from reproducing.

Whelp, at least you could say that Dr. Stanley had the balls to carry out his experiments.
Tuberculosis. Syphilis. Herpes. Influenza. Malaria. The medical society treated us to a rolodex of experiments.

In 1941, at the University of Michigan, virologists Thomas Francis, Jonas Salk and other researchers deliberately infected patients at several Michigan mental institutions with the influenza virus by spraying the virus into their nasal passages.[24] Francis Peyton Rous, based at the Rockefeller Institute and editor of the Journal of Experimental Medicine, wrote the following to Francis regarding the experiments:

It may save you much trouble if you publish your paper... elsewhere than in the Journal of Experimental Medicine. The Journal is under constant scrutiny by the anti-vivisectionists who would not hesitate to play up the fact that you used for your tests human beings of a state institution. That the tests were wholly justified goes without saying.

Wholy justified. Goes without saying. But we would never be so reckless with experiments today, no matter how justified, would we?
NY MAG. March 20

On January 13, less than a week after COVID-19 was identified as the virus behind the outbreak in Wuhan, researchers at Cambridge-based biotech company Moderna proposed a vaccine to fight it. A little over two months later, on Monday morning, a pharmacist in Seattle injected Rebecca Sirull with that vaccine, making her the third person to be injected in a 45-person clinical trial, the first human trial in the country. To rush the vaccine to clinical trial, Moderna skipped animal testing, a somewhat extraordinary measure. Sirull, a healthy 25-year-old editorial coordinator at a research institute, will receive a second injection in a month and have her blood drawn regularly for more than a year. Should the test be successful, the more optimistic estimates suggest that a vaccine could be available in 12 to 18 months. Intelligencer spoke with Sirull about her decision to take part.

Oh. Uhm. OK.

Jill Horowitz stood outside the Quaker Ridge Shopping Center in New Rochelle, N.Y.—an early COVID-19 hotspot—in March, stopping shoppers as they walked into the grocery store. She handed them blue pamphlets soliciting volunteers for a Rockefeller University antibody research study. “I would say, ‘Would you like to help us find a cure?’” says Horowitz, executive director of strategic operations at Rockefeller’s Laboratory of Molecular Immunology. “I didn’t even have to mention coronavirus. This neighborhood was completely subsumed.”

Yessiree ladies and gentlemen, step right up, roll up that sleeve, and get a poke to save all the good folks out there from the pandemic. The one that contaminates surfaces, but now doesn't spread through surfaces. The virus that you don’t need a mask for because a mask will make it worse. The virus you might need a mask for because it wouldn't hurt, but it's not airborne. Put on a darn mask because the virus is airborne. Maybe. But air-conditioning makes COVID-19 worse. So only wear a mask inside. The virus that worsens with pollution, but don't worry about putting on the mask outside. Because if you wear a mask you'll stop the second wave. But there might not be a second wave, it might just be one long continuous wave.
Is anyone else getting the impression that they don't have enough information about the virus to be issuing guidelines yet?
But I'm just being paranoid. I'm sure of it. That was then, and this is now.

Then: In a 1946 to 1948 study in Guatemala, U.S. researchers used prostitutes to infect prison inmates, insane asylum patients, and Guatemalan soldiers with syphilis and other sexually transmitted diseases in order to test the effectiveness of penicillin in treating the STDs. They later tried infecting people with "direct inoculations made from syphilis bacteria poured into the men's penises and on forearms and faces that were slightly abraded . . . or in a few cases through spinal punctures". Approximately 700 people were infected as part of the study (including orphan children). The study was sponsored by the Public Health Service, the National Institutes of Health, the Pan American Health Sanitary Bureau (now the World Health Organization's Pan American Health Organization) and the Guatemalan government. The team was led by John Charles Cutler, who later participated in the Tuskegee syphilis experiments. Cutler chose to do the study in Guatemala because he would not have been permitted to do it in the United States. In 2010 when the research was revealed, the U.S. officially apologized to Guatemala for the studies. A lawsuit has been launched against Johns Hopkins University, Bristol-Myers Squibb and the Rockefeller Foundation for alleged involvement in the study.

That is so reassuring as we move forward, isn’t it? And don't give me any that was back then we've changed arguments. We haven't changed at all. Proof? Ok. Let's go.
This is a link to an LA Times article that talks about Bill Gates and his AIDS fight in Africa. You go Bill. Get them vaccines out to the people. You're such a good guy! That's what a New Normal article would say. This isn’t a New Normal article. It's scathing in it's judgment. They may not be dying of AIDS, or just living longer with AIDS, but they are dying due to other factors, which should be easily acquirable with the wealth at Bill's disposal to prevent.
But there was one item that caught my eye. It talked about a Paper Mill that was in a country in Africa, that Bill owned a substantial amount of stock in. This company owned paper mills in North America. Those paper mills were environmentally friendly with little emissions. But not the one in the African Country. Nope. Not at all. That one didn't bother with environmentally friendly processes.
The story goes on to discuss how one of Bill's AIDS treatment recipients lived downwind from this plant and how the fumes we're probably killing him. And what were the fumes?
Hydrogen Sulfide. (Read more at Flatten the Curve) - Part 13
Yes seriously. Treating them for AIDS while downwind from Hydrogen Sulfide. I'm not sure about you, but that sounds like a medical experiment to me. Seriously, the guy that wants to stop climate-change by geo-engineering the planet doesn't use his clout to stop the pollution from a paper plant that he owns stock in. OK. Makes perfect sense, doesn't it?
Yet actually it might. No, seriously, it really might. I've already stated that the virus seems to be activated with environmental toxins. And here we have an ultimate real life laboratory. And what does this real life laboratory research?
Why maybe it researchers Miasma theory? Huh? Yep. Here we go.

The miasma theory is an obsolete medical theory that held that diseases—such as cholera, chlamydia, or the Black Death—were caused by a miasma, a noxious form of "bad air", also known as night air. The theory held that epidemics were caused by miasma, emanating from rotting organic matter.

Rotting organic matter, like at meat plants?
May 7, 2020: www.wired.com | Why Meatpacking Plants Have Become Covid-19 Hot Spots.
June 23, 2020: https://www.bbc.com | Coronavirus: Why have there been so many outbreaks in meat processing plants?
And do you know what else was associated with Miasma Theory? The Bird Man plauge doctor, just like the 2015 "you're all dead" video.
The word miasma comes from ancient Greek and means "pollution". And then we have Covid-19 and pollution.
The idea also gave rise to the name malaria (literally "bad air") through medieval Italian.
Malaria? What? Crazy? Aren't there debunked studies about Malaria drugs working on COVID-19? Nah. Must be fake news. Right? Or fake facts. Or is it fake news reporting fake facts? I'm just so confused.
Does the strangeness end there? Sadly, it doesn't folks. Not at all. Not in this New Normal.
Because Mr. Bill Gates is trying to eradicate tuberculosis.
And, Hydrogen sulfide stimulates Mycobacterium tuberculosis respiration, growth
Back when I looked for information about the pandemic, I noticed something odd, the mortality rate for Covid-19 fluctuated depending on the region. Now I'm not a doctor, but you don’t have to be to read, do you? So I kept looking at the data for similarities. And they were there. Hypoxic or polluted water like lakes or coastlines. Cities with factory polluting emissions. They all led to outbrakes and higher mortality rates.
And then it changed. I saw ourbreak regions with low mortality rates. It didn't make sense, but there had to be a reason. There's always a reason. And as I kept looking at the similarities of low mortality rates something jumped out, a lot of them were still vaccinated for Mycobacterium Tuberculosis.
Yep.
But this is crazy talk Greek! You're just looking for dots and finding a way to connect them. It's just a coincidence that Bill Gates is funding AIDS prevention, an article exists that points out a therapy participant is close to a source of hydrogen sulfide emissions from a company that Billy has stock investments in, and that Billy also has a program to eradicate tuberculosis. Stop seeing patterns where they don't exist. You're freaking people out.
Crap. Perhaps you're right. Maybe I am freaking people out. But let me show you something else. It's something that I noticed about a month after this pandemic was shutting us down. And it didn't make any sense to me at the time. Ready?
www.pnas.org | BCG vaccine protection from severe coronavirus disease 2019 COVID-19.
BCG? What's that?
www.sciencedaily.com | Preliminary study suggests tuberculosis vaccine may be limiting COVID-19 deaths.
And then the studies started backing it up. Even betteworse, they linked it to Hydrogen Sulfide, endogenous not exogenous, but Hydrogen Sulfide is the same no matter if you breathe it in or produce it biologically.
So, yeah. Let's dig.

Endogenous Hydrogen Sulfide stimulates Mycobacterium Tuberculosis respiration, growth, and pathogenesis.

In mammals, H2S elicits a biphasic, concentration-dependent mitochondrial response14, which can be cytotoxic or cytoprotective. For example, at high concentrations H2S reversibly inhibits cytochrome c oxidase (Complex IV)15–17. In contrast, at low concentrations H2S can serve as bioenergetic fuel to stimulate mitochondrial respiration without uncoupling of respiration. Link here

At high concentrations Hydrogen Sulfide can be cytotoxic and reversibly inhibit cytochrome c oxidase. We've followed the White Rabbit and now we're digging. Can't stop now. Won't stop now.

Defects involving genetic mutations altering cytochrome c oxidase (COX) functionality or structure can result in severe, often fatal metabolic disorders.

Disorders involving dysfunctional COX assembly via gene mutations include Leigh syndrome, cardiomyopathy, leukodystrophy, anemia, and sensorineural deafness**.Link here.

Anemia? Like, the Momento movie? Do I have amnesia now and I have to live my life backwards?
Hold on, don't freak out. You don't have amnesia. Self inflicted amnesia induced systemically via behaviorally manipulated echo chambers introduced systemically through social media electronic pathways? Possibly. But this is anemia, and that's another story.

Current management of COVID-19 is based on the premise that respiratory failure is the leading cause of fatalities (Zhou et al., 2020). Nevertheless, mounting evidence points to drastic systemic events taking place that contribute to accelerated COVID-19 pathogenesis. The “cytokine storm” is a notion that is reportedly hailed as the hallmark of the COVID-19 hyper-inflammatory state (Mehta et al., 2020). Consecutive studies linked COVID-19 related hyper-inflammation to systemic events including hypercoagulability, oxidative stress and altered iron metabolism. Mehta et al., 2020, Phua et al., 2020

Hyperinflammatory and altered iron metabolism. Following? Good.

Coronavirus disease-19 (COVID-19) has been regarded as an infective-inflammatory disease, which affects mainly lungs. More recently, a multi-organ involvement has been highlighted, with different pathways of injury. A hemoglobinopathy, hypoxia and cell iron overload might have a possible additional role. Scientific literature has pointed out two potential pathophysiological mechanisms: i) severe acute respiratory syndrome-coronavirus-2 (SARS-CoV- 2) interaction with hemoglobin molecule, through CD147, CD26 and other receptors located on erythrocyte and/or blood cell precursors; ii) hepcidin-mimetic action of a viral spike protein, inducing ferroportin blockage. Link Here.

Hypoxia? Where have I heard that before?

A dangerous symptom of the coronavirus that can cause a patient to fall unconscious or even die is known as hypoxia — when the body’s tissues do not receive enough oxygen. Dr. Richard Levitan, an emergency doctor working in New York City, wrote for the New York Times at the end of April that he has seen COVID-19 patients with “alarmingly low” oxygen levels, but no shortness of breath. He describes this as “silent hypoxia”. These patients had oxygen saturation levels as low as 50 per cent when normal levels are usually at 94 to 100 per cent at sea level, Levitan explained. These patients had oxygen saturation levels as low as 50 per cent when normal levels are usually at 94 to 100 per cent at sea level, Levitan explained.

Low oxygen levels. Dysregulates immune system. Are your They Live sunglasses on? Are plugged into the Matrix or hacking the Matrix?
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov | Hydrogen sulfide stimulates Mycobacterium tuberculosis respiration + growth.

Tuberculosis (TB) is responsible for millions of deaths each year and several billion people are latently infected with Mycobacterium tuberculosis (Mtb). Mtb modulates host factors, such as endogenous gaseous signalling molecules, to persist in humans for decades. H2S has diverse biological functions, including modulation of immunity and cellular respiration. However, the role of H2S in TB is unclear. We found that mice deficient in H2S production are more resistant to Mtb infection than WT mice. Upon infection, Mtb increases host H2S, which suppresses central carbon metabolism and increases inflammation. Distribution of H2S-producing enzymes in human TB lungs showed that H2S is produced at the site of infection. These findings identify glycolysis and H2S-producing enzymes as targets for TB host-directed therapies.

Don't Freak Out like LeChic, but I don't think we're in Kansas anymore Dorothy.
Speaking of Kansas, do you remember the dust storm as the tornado blew in and swept Dorthy to Oz?
The “Godzilla” Saharan dust cloud over the US, explained:

Dust clouds originate in the Sahara, the largest desert in the world outside the poles, and the Sahel, just south of the Sahara. Much of the dust originates in the Bodélé Depression in Chad, an ancient dry lake bed at the threshold of the Sahara and the Sahel. There, convective storms in the early summer whip the dry ground and loft particles of silica, iron, and phosphorous as high as 20,000 feet into the sky. Link Here

And then we have this:

Residents wear face masks to protect themselves from the Saharan dust clouds covering Dakar, Senegal. N95 masks and even surgical masks can help protect people from getting sick from the dust. Breathing dust can trigger problems like asthma attacks and worsen conditions like heart disease. But particles from natural sources can pose some unique threats. “Desert soil can also be contaminated with bacteria and fungal spores or with toxic heavy metal,” Achakulwisut said. “For example, in the US Southwest, dust episodes there have been linked to outbreaks of Valley Fever and arsenic poisoning.” Link Here

Contaminated with bacteria. Guaranteed Anaerobic bacteria. And it carries along metallic compounds. Like this:

**A 2001 study in Limnology and Oceanography suggested that the seasonal windfalls of iron-rich Saharan dust become a banquet for red tides, blooms of algae that spill into the ocean like dye, deplete it of oxygen, and release toxins. Dust clouds can also host unwelcome stowaways. Jun 24, 2020 Link Here.

Red tides. Blooms of algae. Or rather perhaps, Cyanobacteria blooms? All in a dust storm. Maybe we should start wearing masks, right? Don't want to breathe in toxic dust, do we?

But Snake Park is no paradise. For decades the residents have lived with the mine, which they say blows clouds of dust into their homes. Now Snake Park, formally known as Doornkop, is in the sub-district with the highest number of Covid-19 infections in Gauteng. Last week, Gauteng Premier David Makhura linked “cluster outbreaks” on mines, and people moving between them and where they live, to the Covid-19 infections in the western part of Soweto. In 2017, the Bench Marks Foundation, a nonprofit that monitors multinational corporations, released the results of a survey of household health in four mine-affected areas in Soweto. Mine tailings contain heavy metals and chemicals and cause various illnesses, including mental health issues and Down’s Syndrome. The report found that more than two thirds of the respondents in Snake Park complained about respiratory problems, including persistent coughs, sinus issues, asthma and tuberculosis. This year, the August dust storms in Snake Park will coincide with the expected peak of Covid-19 infections in Gauteng.

“We can’t breathe well. This mine is very dangerous. It’s toxic,” Phongoma says, adjusting his bright blue mask. Looking at the mine dump, now glistening in the afternoon sun, he adds: “It’s a bomb. It’s a nuclear weapon — and with this Covid-19 thing, it’s going to explode.” Link Here

Stranger and stranger, isn’t it? So strange that I would venture to say, Stranger Things haven't happened. You might want to read Flatten the Curve Part 39, and what I wrote about Turkmenistan and wearing masks for toxic dust. Link Here
So where are we now? Knowwhere or nowhere? Are you a nobody or a knowbody? Is this picture that I'm painting connecting enough dots for everyone? Does anticipating mass riots in protest of the upcoming environmental collapse, and the wars for natural resources along with it, make the centralization of the economy plus the mass surveillance system make more sense? The masks and facial detection AI improvements? Does ID2020, another Billy Boy project make more sense? The upcoming robotic automation of the workforce? The curtailing of civil rights? Heck, what about the Bill Gates endorsement of impossible meats and the sudden push to vegetarianism? Remember the meat plant shutdowns? Rotting organic matter and Hydrogen Sulfide?
Please remember, Hydrogen Sulfide outgassing is pretty consistent across past Extinction Level Events. Does this mean that all hope is lost? Puhlease. Hope flows abundant. We shut Pandora's Box before hope could escape, remember?
Let me leave you with one final thought. Words matter. Look them up. They know what's happening. They know all of this. The words they use hide it in plain sight.
I've written about Bill's fortuitous investment strategy. How he seemed to hit all the right stocks as the pandemic and environmental collapse strikes. It's mostly hidden in shell companies after shell companies, but it has to start somewhere. And it does. He owns Cascade Investment L.L.C. Link Here
Which: Oct. 22, 2014 · A subsidiary of Cascade Investments LLC, which oversees the Gates fortune, is buying thousands of acres of land in north Florida. Link Here
And what does Cascade mean? Let's look?
cascade (n.)

"a fall or flow of water over a cliff, a waterfall," 1640s, from French cascade (17c.), from Italian cascata "waterfall," from cascare "to fall," from Vulgar Latin casicare, frequentative of Latin casum, casus, past participle of cadere "to fall" (from PIE root kad- "to fall"). cascade (n.) a succession of stages or operations or processes or units;

To prepare. To fall. Interesting choice for a name.

Meteor showers occur when the earth bowls through a dense stream of debris left in the wake of a comet, asteroid, or other space-borne object. Depending on where you look, you may encounter fewer meteors, however. Viewers in the Northern Hemisphere will see shooting stars emanate from the shower’s “radiant” point in the southern sky, meaning the best meteors with the longest tails will be most readily visible in the east and west. A much more spectacular meteor shower — among the year’s most prolific — will pepper the skies with a spattering of bright shooting stars and “fireballs” come mid-August. The Perseid meteor shower peaks the night of Tuesday, Aug. 11. Dozens of shooting stars could be visible beneath a clear sky every hour. Perseid meteors zip across the sky at 37 miles per second. Their diaphanous tails can appear white, orange, yellow, pink, turquoise and even violet, lingering in the sky for a few seconds. The rainbow spectrum of colors come from the combustion of magnesium, sodium and iron. Link Here

Pepper the skies with fireballs. Fall from the skies.

Comet 67P's rotten-egg smell comes from hydrogen sulfide, and the horse-stable odor comes from ammonia. These scents are blended with the fainter almond smell of hydrogen cyanide, the vinegarlike odor of sulphur dioxide and the sweet-smelling scent of carbon disulphide, researchers said. Link Here

Hnmm. It definitely sounds like Bill was getting ahead of the curve before we started to Flatten the Curve, by being a good student and getting prepared before the hoarders bought up all the toilet paper for the upcoming SHTF event.
Wouldn't you agree? Are these all coincidence, or should we pay more attention?
They want us to Keep Calm and Carry On. When do people tell you to remain calm? When you start to panic. So do you really think they would tell us the truth and deal with panicking masses? Or do you think they would hide it?
Hide it in plain sight?
Keep your head up and eyes open. Talk soon.

First of all, I would like to say that for me, Grimes is the most fascinating musical artist that I have ever encountered and I only know her through parasocial interactions (music, videos, interviews, pictures, social media, fan and hater opinions, news articles, etc.). I am writing this as a thought experiment. Before all the traditionalists get their knives out, just hear me out. This is for the Grimes fans that are also closeted Rock and Rollers, which I’ll bet there are many. But it is also for fans that enjoy all the variation in Grimes’ music over these few 10 years. She has dabbled in many genres of music such as: Pop, Alternative, emo/emocore, Goth, Lo-fi, Art Punk, Ambient, Experimental, Techno, Electronica, Witch House, Nu metal, and probably others. But with each genre she always marks it with her own Grimesian spin so it’s always unique and sometimes doesn’t seem to fit any genre. What I’m proposing here is that for a special live show (I know we are all hoping for Grimes to tour and for that matter that we will again have live music of all types) that Grimes goes full ROCK GOD! Here I’m using God as a genderless being, because, I mean God is just God. I just think it would be so cool to hear Rock and Roll with a Grimesian spin but using her own song catalogue.
The way I’d like to do this is to discuss it in a few different parts, the band, the setup, the set list, the instrumentation, and the song arrangement. Bear with me on these topics as I am not a musician myself but just a music fan so I’ll probably propose some unconventional, and maybe even ridiculous ideas. First off, it seems to me that the Grimes’ songs on her last two albums, Art Angels and Miss Anthropocene, could easily be instrumented and performed as rock songs. The songs I was most interested in were some of her earlier works, how could they be interpreted as rock songs.
First off the band would be a traditional five piece rock band consisting of a rhythm guitar, lead guitar, bass guitar, drums, and keyboards/synthesizer. All of these of course played by human musicians. I tried to choose musicians that were contemporary, would be able to actually play Grimes music, and also be able to add their own flair to the songs. So anyway, here goes.
Rhythm Guitar (Vocals)
To me this was an absolute no brainer. It has to be Hana. She plays solid guitar, and has a very close relationship with Grimes and adds exceptional vocals to the songs. Also, I believe everybody would love to see these two performing together again anyway.
Bass Guitar (Vocals)
I chose Jenny Lee Lindberg of Warpaint. Warpaint has been around for a little over 10 years and plays a version of indie, softer, psychedelic rock. Jennylee’s bass lines in most of Warpaint’s songs are very distinct and prominent. A great example of Lindberg’s sound and power can be heard on the song Krimson on the Exquisite Corpse EP. At the 36 second mark of the song the bass takes over and then dominates the remainder of the song. Lindberg also has a very good voice and could add some really cool vocals to some of Grimes songs. Also, between Lindberg, Hana, and Grimes, some really impressive three part harmonies and vocal layering could be added to enhance a number of the songs. That would be so cool to hear.
Drums (Vocals)
As we all know, Grimes has stated that she usually starts a song, first with a good beat. Most of her songs have a very strong steady beat, and they usually don’t contain a lot of frills. Because of this, I feel that Stephanie Luke of The Coathangers would fit nicely. The Coathangers also have been around for a little over 10 years so they are also very contemporary with Grimes. I consider them kind of a punky-pop garage band. All The Coathangers’ songs have a very strong and heavy beat. This can be heard in many of the songs on their 2016 album, Nosebleed Weekend. A couple of examples of this can be heard on Make it Right, Down Down, and Dumb Baby. These songs also highlight Luke’s raspy vocals. Her early nickname in the band was Rusty Coathanger, and you can hear why. I feel that, strategically placed, her vocals can add real power to some of Grimes’ songs.
Lead Guitar (Vocals)
I wanted a musician, in this position, that wasn’t your standard three-cord rock and roll riffer. I was looking for someone that has a style that would do any Grimes song justice along with adding their own flair on the songs. For lead guitar I would love to have Ty Segal. He is a very prolific songwriter and performer that seems to put out two or three albums a year. His guitar style is anything but conventional and a good example of this is the manic guitar work on You’re the Doctor from the 2012 album Twins. His guitar work would very much compliment the synthesized and sampled sounds of many Grimes’ songs. He also could add interesting male vocals.
KeyBoards/SynthesizeSampleLead Vocals
Grimes! Who else. Having a full band backing her, Grimes can be the true front-person she should be. She will be able to concentrate on her vocals, keyboard and synthesizer and sampling jams. I can just imagine the kind of “psych” jams that these five musicians could produce. She could revisit some of her earlier performances, where she would do extended psych jams including strategic screams, and with this group, extend them into freeform epic jams. The auditory experiences would be through the roof.
Now that we have the band, I wanted to put out some of my thoughts of how the concert would be set up and of course the song set list. One thing that I would not want to discount in this song list, is if Grimes would have some new songs to introduce either in this Grimes-Rock genre or any way she would want to perform them. We would all appreciate the power of any new music from Grimes!
1) My Name is Dark
So I picked this for the opening song as I believe it could be a very powerful start and set the stage for the remainder of the concert. The stage is black, the audience hears the opening guitar riff and a spotlight shines on the left front of the stage and there is Hana playing the riff. She extends it some and adds a little flare. Then you hear another guitar building on the riff and a spotlight shine on the right front of the stage and Ty Segal is playing. Hana and Ty play a little with the basic riff adding and embellishing it building the tension. A spotlight shines on the back upper left of the stage and Stephanie Luke begins the strong steady drum beat of the song. The three musicians riff a little then a spotlight flashes on the back left of the stage and Jennylee comes in with the banging base. At this point the tension continues to build with anticipation. The band starts to jam a little with the opening of MNID. The music goes down and a spotlight shines on Grimes in the middle of the set (usual set-up) and she starts the vocals. The band comes down with a bang after the first “I hear them calling my name”. This song also has a place towards the end where there is a bit of a guitar solo and I think this could become a full blown jam with Ty Segal starting it off and then Grimes jamming out on the synth and sampler. Then just ending with a bang.
2) Be a Body
First off, it would be cool for Grimes to perform the intro and outro heard on the album but for some reason she always left it out in her live shows, at least I haven’t heard it. The pounding chord intro of the song would sound so, so cool as big guitar chords. There could be a really cool sounding call and response section of the song with Jennylee, Hana, and Grimes singing during the “So what am I” “Be a Body” part. As she used to do in pre-AA live shows (see Rock En Seine 2012 show and others from that era), the last part of the song could evolve into a free form psych-jam with lots of strategic screams and yelps from Grimes and the other performers.
3) So Heavy I Fell Through the Earth
The audience now primed for what this show is all about with the opening bangers, the lights go down and the band plays a very heavy, dark, moaning guitar version of this great great song. Good chance for a taste of Grimes pure vocal power.
4) Delete Forever
This song could actually be played pretty much straight as recorded. One of them (not really sure which band member should or could) can pick up a banjo and play the shit out of it. Again, it would highlight Grimes' voice and her vocal style.
5) Scream
To bring the energy back up, I see Grimes and the band doing this song as a similar manic performance as she did in her later live shows (2015, 2016) but with the addition of more voices strategically screaming along with her.
6) Caladan
This is one of the songs that I thought would be really interesting to instrument and play with a five piece rock band. It can be played with the guitars, electric piano, and the simple snare beat. The thing that I think would be so cool is the vocals. In the recorded song there are lots of layered vocals and I feel this group of female vocalists could make this song sound so beautiful.
7) Realiti
I realize there are a lot of fans that really like the demo version of this song and believe the album version is too over produced. Here is a chance to strip it down further and perform it as a pure pop-rock song with Grimes being a true front person.
8) Venessa
This song could easily be transformed into a cool pop-rock song, but I would love to hear how the Grimes layered vocals would be interpreted by the singers in this group. The long vocal note at the end could be connected and passed around between Hana, Jennylee, and Grimes.
9) Saturn Princess
One of my favorite songs first off. This song starts out as normal with the cool synth sounds but also some cool, freaky guitar sounds added in. This could become a very trippy late 60’s psychedelic style rock song. How cool would that be? Also, maybe Grimes will enlighten us to the lyrics so we can all formulate our own meaning to this song, or at least allow us to sing along with her in our cars!
10) Nightmusic
I imagine this song being interpreted as a late 60’s early 70’s prog-rock song with a bit of psychedelia added. Lots of cool psych-jams could be developed along with the strong beat of the original song.
11) Flesh Without Blood
Grimes and band can easily perform this song as a pure rock song as it’s already a real banger. It would become a great guitar-rock song.
12) Kill V. Maim
This song is a must for this band as it is already very rockish. I can imagine this group of singers belting out the cheerleader-ish “B – E – H – A – V – E” part and the “I don’t behave” chorus part.
13) Venus Fly
Venus Fly, a real rock and roll banger? Oh yes! I’d like to hear Stephanie Luke take the loud Janelle Monáe (Why you looking at me now?) part and Jennylee do the more spoken (Pitty, pitty, pitty pat Why you always doing that?) part.
14) Crystal Ball
The opening could either be a guitar or electric piano, whichever works. This song intrigues me because of the layering of vocals at the beginning and throughout the song. This group of vocalists would sound so good with this layering. Also, I feel my favorite part, when the male voice comes in and the tempo changes (the “I go, and I know, and I wait for you” part) could be imagined by this band and made into a pounding rock anthem.
15) Circumambient
I see this song in a similar fashion as Nightmusic. It being interpreted as a late 60’s early 70’s prog-rock song with a bit of psychedelia added also. At the heart of this song is pretty much a very good pop song and having this band backing Grimes, her vocals would really shine.
16) Weregild
I just want to hear this song performed live as it’s one of my favorite Grimes songs. It has real spacey vocals and ethereal backing vocals and a very steady interesting beat.
17) Oblivion
This is a must song for any Grimes concert because, well it just is! The quirky synth beginning would sound pretty cool being imagined by guitars. Also, again, excellent lyrics and a great song for Grimes vocals to shine and a good song for some cool backing vocals from Hana and Jennylee. The disorienting swirling synth at the end could become really spacey swirling guitars.
18) Avi
This is one of the coolest spacy songs of Geidi Primes. I would love to hear it imagined as a psychedelic rock song. One of the rare times Grimes sings in a lower register, so cool!
19) Heartbeats
I wanted it to stay very moody and this song fits the bill. For sure more psychedelia from Grimes and band.
20) Pretty Dark
Regardless of the band she has backing her, I just want to see and hear this song performed live!
21) You’ll Miss Me When I’m Not Around
The cool guitar sound at the beginning and the nice steady beat throughout would sound great live with this band. Again, the very smooth layered vocals towards the end would allow this group of vocalist to really shine.
22) Darkseid
To cap off the moody part of the concert, but also start to bring up the energy, I thought this would be the perfect song. This song could sound very early King Crimson-ish.
23) California
Come on! Who doesn’t want to hear Grimes perform a nu-metal-rock version of this song?
24) 4 Æ M
This is a great modern sounding banger to end this epic show. Starts off very ethereal and spacy then hits hard and goes at a breakneck pace. Then it has an epic ending with just Grimes’ voice…then the stage goes dark! Bang the end! Not for my fantasy Grimes Rock Concert!
Encore
I know Grimes has almost never performed encores in her past shows but for this show, since it’s a full blown “Rock Show” performed by a “Rock God” it will have encores. For the first encore, I wanted Grimes and this band to do something that I don’t think I’ve ever heard Grimes do and that is play some covers (except if we consider Ave Maria a cover, I guess technically it is). I may be wrong about this but you all can correct me if I am. In past Springsteen shows, during his encores, he would perform a medley of rock and roll classics. So for a Grimes Rock God show I thought it might be appropriate for Grimes and her rock band to do a couple of songs right out of the “Classic Rock” era of the late 60’s and early 70’s.
First Encore
25) Cherry Bomb
Cherry Bomb is a classic rock song from 1976 by the groundbreaking, iconic, all female group, The Runaways. I just think that Grimes and band would do both Cherie Currie and Joan Jett proud. And of course, this song really rocks! I believe Grimes would really enjoy playing the Rock God part out front for this song.
26) Space Trucking
This song is from one of the all-time classic rock era groups, Deep Purple, off of their 1971, Machine Head (a title that seems interestingly current) album. I feel that the outward theme of this song, space travel, is very appropriate to both Grimes hopes and dreams as a young artist 10 years ago (Human Heart – 2010 Grimes Doc) and her current situation. Whether we all like it or not, Grimes is now forever tied to that certain person and his “space” company, you know the one where an “X” marks the spot. But I digress. Deep Purple and Black Sabbath are two of the pioneers of popular Heavy Metal music, so I felt it was appropriate for Grimes to pay tribute to the ancestors of Nu-Metal and such, which she has dabbled in. Imagine Grimes singing lyrics like:
-Well we had a lot of luck on Venus
-We always had a ball on Mars
-We meet with all the groovy people
-We rocked the Milky Way so far
-We're space truckin' 'round the stars
Or how about these!
-The fireball that we rode was moving
-But now we've got a new machine
-Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, the freaks said
-"Man this cat can really swing!"
-They got music in the solar system
-They danced around the Milky Way
This is a very high energy song that also has a cool drum solo part that I think Stephanie Luke would have a ball with. Imagine Grimes screaming the lyric: Yeah, yeah, yeah, space truckin' Yeah, yeah, yeah, space truckin' to close out the song. I just think Grimes and band would just love doing this song. I will tell you what, it would never sound the same again after this imagined rendition.
OR
27) Highway Star
As an alternative song, also off of the Deep Purple Machine Head album, Highway Star is a very hard banger that contains an interesting theme that seems currently appropriate given the current circumstances, fast vehicles. Grimes could easily match Ian Gillan’s performance of the screaming vocals and of course add her unique style. At the starting guitar riff, Grimes would be fist pumping in the front of the stage. Then, Grimes, Jennylee, and Hana start doing the consecutive screams, wow. This song has a mega keyboard solos (Jon lord) and an epic guitar solo (Ritchie Blackmore). Of course Grimes would do the duties on the keyboards and Ty Segal and Hana could trade guitar licks for the guitar solo. This song was one of the early “heavy metal” bangers and would be great to hear Grimes and this collection of musicians open it up to a whole new audience.
Second Encore
28) Medieval Warfare
I mean, who wouldn’t want to see Grimes as the ultimate front person rocking to this song with this band backing her. This song would blow the roof of the venue!
29) We Appreciate Power
To me, this was the only song that I felt could end this epic concert. With its loud Nu-Metal sound and the military beats. With most of my imagined concert I tried to stay away from blatant theatrics, but for this song, being the finale, I wanted to make an exception. Musically, there wouldn’t need to be too much change from how this song was recorded. Hana’s bridge would stay as is, but there could be a few more screams and yelps from the band members at strategic places in the song. This is probably over the top, but what I feel would be so cool is to have all kinds of real robots come marching out towards the end during the “Submit” part. At this point I feel we would all now have capitulated and submitted to the new “Rock God” affectionately known as Grimes!
I realize that this is a lot of music (not that I wouldn’t love to hear a couple of dozen more of her songs live). Probably over three hours of playing. It could be played all at once somewhat like an old Grateful Dead, epic four hour concert, or maybe spit it into two sets played on consecutive nights. A cool venue for this concert would be Red Rocks Amphitheatre in Colorado, the music would definitely fit the setting. Anyway, since it’s my fantasy concert it doesn’t really matter anyway.
The last thing I thought about was what could be an appropriate name for this new Grimes’ “SuperGroup”. Here are a few that I imagined (some cool and some certainly tongue-in-cheek). I am sure many of you can also think up appropriate “sick” names for the Grimes’ SuperGroup.
· Grimes and the Empire of Mars
· Граймс и Марсова империя
· Imperial Martians
· Warnympy
· Imperial Mars
· Inner Planet Alliance (somewhat borrowed from The Expanse universe)
· Grimes and the New Gods
· New Gods
· Imminent Annihilation
· Swords of the Gods
· God’s Art Angels
· God’s Visions
· God Emperor of the Galaxy (play on the book God Emperor of Dune)
· Fae of Light
· Fae of Darkness
· The Dream Fortress
· Fever of the God
· Speed of Light
· Скорость свет
· Dark Gods of the Light
· Submit to the Other Worldly
· Mother of X
· Capitulate You Must
· A and Ω
· X = E c2
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my imagined musical illusion of a fantasy concert from the most fascinating and talented contemporary musical artist, Grimes. Whether you enjoyed this or hated the concept (early pre-AA era Grimes purists are sure to hate this concept), I sure had a good time imagining this. I realize that this concert would never happen for many different reasons, but I would love to hear your thoughts, ideas, and critiques, positive and negative. Also, I’d like to hear what other fans would like Grimes to do in a future modern live performances. Maybe perform one of her albums from start to finish, earlier ones or later ones, with just her and her equipment. Other established artists have done concerts like that (Patti Smith, Horses). One thing I am sure, we all can agree upon, WE ALL WANT MORE MUSIC AND LIVE PERFORMANCES FROM GRIMES! So to quote Grimes from one of her past concerts, “Chee Chee Chee Cha” y’all!

Hi,
My classmates and I started a betting league where ofcourse we bet.... for fun.
Rules are simple:
- At least 2 bets per betting slip/ticket
- Minimal odd is 1.30 or 130 per bet
- Just sport betting(means no horse betting, casino or lotto)
- When you play bets sent picture of slip in whatsapp group
- At the end of the league 2 or 3 idk from bottom of table pays drink to others
- duration of league is 2 weeks
- For start you have 3 betting slips and maximum bet per those 3 slips are $0.3
- And you can just play fix not system betting
​
Even it is just for fun I dont like to lose.
I made several mistakes.
This is not important but:
First slip:

1. Esport: Astralis - Ninjas in Pyamas I put win for Astralis (they won 2:0)
2. Football/Soccer Chines league Shijazhuang - Tianjin Teda i put win for Shijazhuang (1:1)
   
3. Astralis: I bet on them bc their goal is to win this season and they lost just once in league.
   
4. Shijazhuang: I bet on them bc Tianjin Teda lost last 8 matches and Shijazhaung was 3th on table and Tianjin Teda was last with just 1 points in 11 games.
   

What happend: Tijanjin Teda scored in 70min and it was 0-1 then Shijazhuang scored for 1-1 in 81min. Then 89min Shijaznhaung scored but it was offside and in 92min it was almost penalty for them but VAR said no.
My question is: Was I unlucky?
Second slip:

1. Esport: CompLexity Gaming vs mousesports i put bet on Complexity to win(they lost 0:2)
2. Baseball: Yankees vs Blue Jays i put bet on Yankees to win(they didnt play yet)
3. Baseball: White Sox vs Twins i pet on Yankees to win(they didnt play yet)
   
4. Coplexity: I bet on them bc they are I think top 1 in world, they are on top of the league and they wouldnt let them lose even if they are 1st on table. I actually watched match and they played not bad but not good and mousesport was just a little bit better.
   

My question is again: Was I unlucky?
Thirth slip:
My mistake: I accidentally put Complexity on my friends slip and told him they will win 100% and if they lose I will give him my thirth slip. They lost and then I realised that I was dumb and I could actually give him another 0.3$ to make another slip.
​
​
My actual question is: What was my mistakes and what would be your strategy for "betting league"? Also i need advice for the next one bc i dont really wanna pay someones drink.
Thanks :)

Previous | First | Next
DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own any of the ideas or worlds described in the story. The ‘They are Smol’ universe is the intellectual property of u/TinyPrancingHorse. Nothing in the story is canon to his universe, and I’d suggest you visit his writings if you love wholesome stories about humans being human.

• Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/tinyprancinghorse
  
• TPH Author Page: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/wiki/authors/tinyprancinghorse#wiki_they_are_smol
  
• TaS Series Page: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/wiki/series/they_are_smol
  
• TaS Discord Link: https://discord.gg/hSAj9qW
  
• TaS Twitter Link: http://twitter.com/TheyAreSmol
  

—|—|—|—
ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER:
This story was NOT written by me. It was, instead, created by the beautiful and certainly not a snake-person “@Fluffynoodle” on the They Are Smol discord. I was given permission to post his wonderful story on his behalf, so please direct all praise to him. I’m just the messenger. He’s the actually good writer.
—|—|—|—

Part 3

A short while later I was sitting looking at the dry rot on the wall of my room in Sweetheart Heights, fingers idly running checks over the deadly weapon I’d built myself as I waited, long as I dared. I’d been given three days — seventy two hours — but I was also sure that now I’d seen the body I was soon to become persona non-grata far faster than that.
More Cake was missing from the puck, though not through choice. I could sleep when this was all over. If I slept now, I knew I’d end up in a steel coffin of one sort or another, on another one-way journey. Potential side-effects of paranoid delusions, apophenia and pareidolia be damned.
Io worked on Terran time, though the day-night cycle was entirely artificial. Five o’clock was quitting time. Tick, tock, tick… tock… seven o’clock was even more important. Happy hour at the bars.
I got up, fighting to stay vertical for a moment, then packed all my tools and headed for the ground floor. I thought for a moment about using what passed for the fire escape, but… naa, straight out the lobby. I’d been thinking for the rest of the afternoon, thinking hard, sure that I had missed something yet not really sure what. At quitting time it had all become clear.
Gordon Silas definitely hadn’t died from a normal accident, oh no. His death was most likely due to the kind of ‘accident’ that involved getting in the way of a tweaked-out dorarizin, something that the galactic senate would rather be swiftly forgotten about. Of course, it was being dressed up as a human squabble made to look like a dorarizin attack so that everybody would turn the other cheek. After all, everyone knew that no dorarizin in their right mind would ever actually kill a human.
Gordon Silas had been murdered because he’d found something out he shouldn’t have; something was going on at Marv’s Meat Packing Co. and I was going to find out what if it killed me.
Squawky had put me on the right track, I had most likely found my way to exactly the right place, I’d just got there several hours too early and I’d been too dumb to figure it out.
—|—|—|—
Night in a hab is much the same as night on a planet; the same pregnant quiet, the same dark corners, the same hushed whispers. I paid extra for the human cabbie to forget he’d seen me and I paid more still for not only the forging of my ID in the system but the route and final destination. I wasn’t convinced any of it would work to throw off those interested in my whereabouts, but if I was very lucky that could only work in my favour. There wasn’t much to steal in a meat packing company, at least apart from the heavy equipment, so in theory security would be light. I turned off my wetware all the same long before coming anywhere near Marv’s, anything running even passive scans wouldn’t know a thing. Location caching was supposed to be illegal, but it was hardly a secret that you could be subpoenaed for it.
Marv’s Meat Packing Co. was indeed deserted, save for a couple of lone guards. I watched the perimeter until I thought I had their patrol routes down — do a half-hearted patrol of the main gate, nip inside the complex, most likely for a coffee refill, then retire to the gatehouse… it wasn’t a patrol so much as a patcrumb — then snuck inside under their nose whilst liquid refreshments were being had.
I didn’t regret my purchase of a hat — a nice, wide-brimmed trilby — on the way to the actual plant, it would literally and figuratively keep the heat off my head should there be any surveillance. I held on to it tightly as I squirmed my way through barbed wire fences and scooted under barriers.
Marv’s business wasn’t big on electronic security; the fewer cameras and the lower their resolution, the less that what passed for OSHA would have to say about what went on in this low-rent chop-shop. I would still have to be careful, however.
The downside of my current ease of entry meant that whatever was going on probably wasn’t centered here. I just hoped I’d find enough clues to get me to where trouble was really going down. I was, however, certain I’d find that info right here.
The locks on the doors to the building I was interested in were, unsurprisingly perhaps, plainly mechanical. They were heavy and well-built, but bowed to my firking about with a pin tumbler and torsion rod in short order. Gritting my teeth for the inevitable alarm, it took me several long seconds for the thudding in my ears to die away enough to be sure I hadn’t heard one. That didn’t mean that a silent alarm hadn’t been tripped, so whatever I was going to do now, I’d better get to it.
I still remembered the route to Marv’s office, but it was slow going in the darkened workshop. The ever-present smell of pig shit and piss permeated everything, and glistening, wet tools hung from racks. There was a lot of sharp, blunt and just plain effective implements of death and dismemberment here. My eyes, adjusting to the dark, spied what had to be a walk-in freezer with electronic security locks on it in the back, judging by the cooling system. It hummed away merrily. I shook my head; lots of people still paid a premium for hand-made goods, I guessed. The automated systems further down — and there were long channels to funnel animals down that led to an automated abattoir that could be adjusted to send streams of pigs this way or that as needed — were more than likely capable of producing any particular cut anyone could ask for, but the tools right here told me they likely picked off prize animals for special treatment. It was clear this was also where they did mass inspections of their herds, culling for disease, disposal — a largish incinerator sat quietly roaring to itself, still dealing with the last of the day’s unwanted trash — and otherwise dealing with the messy part of life and death that involved humans.
A large counter on the wall had the number of ‘days’ since the last accident, nearing two weeks. What looked like a betting pool was underneath it, or possibly quotas. I moved on. No sirens yet, no sudden lights, no shouts… I knew at some point the game would be up, but so far everything seemed copacetic.
I tried not to touch anything, even though I was wearing gloves. I was pretty sure that pulling any sort of fingerprints or genetic profile from anything in this factory would be an exercise in frustration, but it made sense to be careful.
I found the stairs in short order. This would be the second real hurdle after breaking and entering in the first place. Navigating the iron steps with iron railings, in the open, without being spotted. I paused, ears metaphorically perked for any trouble, counted to ten, then tip-toed my crouched way up to the second floor.
The balcony above the shop floor wasn’t any less exposed and I fought to keep my breathing steady instead of bursting out into ragged gasps. After an aeon I made it to the door into the nicer office area that belonged to the miniscule number of white-collar workers. The lock here too was purely mechanical. I swore under my breath, reflexively, as this mechanism was a lot harder to pick on account of how much my hands were shaking, but after another ice age this lock too snicked open and I cracked the door and slipped in.
I closed the door, wincing at every sound the mechanism made until the door was flush and I’d released the handle, then I glanced around. The lights were manual, I hadn’t spotted any sort of alarm, and it appeared I could act with relative impunity. Something wasn’t adding up. I was more and more certain now that the jig was already up and that I was running on borrowed time.
None of the internal doors had locks, so gaining access to the boss’ office itself was a literal cakewalk, but my first stop was the receptionist’s computer.
As luck would have it — treacherous the Lady may be, but she is also not without a sense of humour it would seem — a post-it note was affixed to the flatscreen with the password. Wincing anew at the necessity, I fired up her computer and logged on. I dialed the brightness down as low as it would go, but was forced to trust that the internal nature of this area would prevent actual trouble from the glare.
The company’s records were simple enough to access, but ten minutes of searching didn’t turn up anything out of the ordinary. The only thing that stuck out were the entries for ‘retired’ workers, papered out, that stank of payoffs for that accident counter outside. I knew for a fact nothing would stick from any of this level of petty bureaucratic shenanigans, so was forced to look elsewhere.
It was in the boss’ office that I struck paydirt. Really, I figured, it was obvious when you thought about it. What’s food without sauce? Condiments? A filing cabinet had the real papers in it, filling out the transactions that, in the computer database outside, were just numbers for special orders.
It seemed that Marv was dealing in a very lucrative cash crop of some sort, pencilled down as ‘special orders’. With Squawky eager enough to send me here, with Gordon’s death being so obviously graphic, I figured it was probably the one product that was ridiculously easy to come by in one corner of our galaxy and yet so incredibly heavily restricted in another, green.
‘Green’ was a karnakian plumage cleanser, akin to scented sand or soap. For karnakians, it was a pleasant and highly sought-after, freely available and well-loved product, but for the dorarizin… well, alien biologies what they are, green was like pure rave in a bottle. Laced with various other compounds, it gave older dorarizin the edge in bed, revved up their muscles, made the world come alive. It was heroin, speed, smack, angel dust and pcp all rolled into one.
It also tended to send them into a wild, homicidal rage that didn’t end until everything else in the immediate area was torn to shreds or the dorarizin’s heart exploded, whichever came first.
Green was, therefore, very lucrative in the right hands. Why not shuffle it through a dead-end human station? It didn’t do anything much for humans, so it would be very easy to deal with, wouldn’t ping any of the human interdiction systems and the senate — already on tenterhooks with the human race as a whole — would keep their noses out without a damn good lead.
Oh, great.
With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I reasoned that was my job in this whole godforsaken mess.
I swore again under my breath as I continued pulling out ‘special orders’ from the filing cabinet, then had to stifle a whoop of joy; something was going down tonight if the newest entry with just a date and no other monetary details inked in was anything to go by. If only I could find out where.
This facility was rapidly becoming an obvious courier hub for illicit goods, but none of the data I was pulling out told me anything about where and when, just the what, and without the illicit goods, without the green, I had nothing.
Kilos and kilos of ‘special orders’ were ear-marked for various shipments to the wider galaxy, hidden within the general product shipments being sent out to not only human worlds but dorarizin, karnakian and jornissian — and none of it would matter if I couldn’t prove they were for anything but gourmets.
If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say some of these special orders were, from the code names, other products than just the obvious ‘green’. If I could crack the code, I could come up with something to go on there, too, once I got myself out of here.
As I closed the cabinet and started searching for some sort of hidden cabinet or safe, I figured that maybe some of the flow was cold, hard cash in return. That would surely be the easiest to figure out, and to trace. Would it weigh less than other shipments? Always have the same dropoff point? Or be the same order type? As I scanned the entries looking for patterns, I sniggered to myself. Hah, ‘cold’ hard cash.
All these shipments were nominally for different cuts of pork; they had to be hiding the goods in with it, literally frozen. With a nice, thick, organic shield around the real goods, most sensors wouldn’t see anything untowards until it was far too late. Skim off the special box — maybe even in flight in some cases — and it’s gone. The galaxy was a big place, it made truly policing restricted goods a nightmare. Most financial transactions were performed to the galactic block-chain, but breadsticks and even analog currency were far from unusual, and provided for a more intimate, if not immediate, transfer of funds.
If there had to be an open port to get into the standard shipping channels, then human space would be the perfect cover for not only goods but money laundering services. In truth, this was big, bigger than me. I felt the weight of responsibility settle not-so-comfortably around my neck even as I heard the footsteps outside and the door to the outer office click open.
I saw the lights in the reception area come on by the glare under the door to Marv’s office, followed by a sudden babble of hushed voices. The takka-takka-tak of somebody accessing the receptionist’s computer came next.
In moments, the jig would be up. I swore again under my breath. I’d found what I thought was the safe, but there was no way I’d be able to break into it before I was caught. To be honest with myself, there was no way I was getting out of here without a fight. Clicking the ‘on’ button on my plasma pistol, I prayed to whatever gods were listening that it would remain stable and actually function as I squared myself off, facing the door.
Moments later, the handle jiggled, then turned.
Letting out a huge bestial yell, I charged. I slammed into the door as it opened, braining the guy behind it, hopefully breaking an arm or knocking him unconscious.
No such luck, though I had knocked the wind out of him.
As I yanked open the door again, I noticed two security guards and three heavies in bloodied smocks, two of the latter picking up one of the former. Piggy, from before, was there, being the one heavy not manhandling a guard.
Almost instinctively I raised my arm, gun in hand, and blasted the ceiling. With a bright, disorienting foomf of light, a good deal of the industrial ceiling disintegrated, along with a good section of sprinkler piping. Water rained down around us as I barrelled through the crowd, sumo-charging Piggy. He went down like a sack of blubber, almost bouncing as I rolled over him.
A hand grabbed my leg and twisted as I tried to get up. I saw stars as my jaw hit the ground, blood gushing from either a bitten tongue or a split lip. I twisted too, lashing out with a boot to Piggy’s face as a ham fist the size of a small dog gut-punched me, another heavy had got into the mix.
Piggy let go with a squeal, but two more shapes descended on me. I rolled over on top of one, head-butting and biting as what felt like a night-stick slammed into the back of my head. I rolled again, using the body now on top of me as a shield, and brung up my plasma gun. Multiple swears rent the air as my assailants dived for cover.
I wasn’t about to commit murder, however, and my shot was aimed more to disorient than kill. Another shower of sparks and flames as the desk exploded, and I was free to throw off the guy who was now laying limply on top of me like a sack of ugly potatoes, having been beaten heavily by his friends. I jumped up, covering my face with my arm as I levelled the gun at my other assailants, then turned and ran for the door.
I pelted down the metal walkway, no longer caring about stealth, as four figures charged after me, shouting and hollering. I fired at the metal in front of me whenever the gun announced it was ready, jumping the holes as they formed, panicking as I heard the structure start to buckle and bend. In a bound, I was down, as with a screeching cacophony, the stairs detached from the superstructure.
Screams sounded out as the four guys fought to not end up on a heap on the floor behind me, but I couldn’t stop to make sure nobody was seriously hurt. I didn’t even stop to look back at the doors out, luckily they hadn’t been locked behind the guards as they’d come in, and kept on running as I leaped over the barrier. Somehow, my new trusty hat stayed with me. Truly, a gumshoe’s best friend and most valuable item of clothing.
I was away, but hardly safe. By morning, everyone would know somebody had broken into Marv’s and taken a gander at the ‘secret menu’. I was screwed if I couldn’t come up with something tonight. My only chance was the deal that was, with luck, going down right at this very moment.
Hailing a cab with my wetware as I brought it back online, I headed for the one place I was sure I could find some more information, The Fox and Stoat, home of fences, low-lifes and, hopefully, a karnakian who’d see things my way. If I’d been on the clock before, then now the alarm bells were ringing.
I sat and breathed heavily in the automated cab as the automated systems whisked me through the habitat. Driven cabs were preferred in the same way that actual restaurants still employed waiters, but when you wanted fast food you punched your order up on the screens. I had to get to Squawky ASAP.
—|—|—|—
I was disgorged more or less right next to the entrance, and didn’t even hesitate on heading in.
Inside, the atmosphere was livelier than before. The deadbeat drunks were fewer, the conversations more hushed, but the regulars were on form. The dirty dance floor had been cleared of most of the detritus and multicoloured lights were flashing rhythmically as some heavy bass loops made my gut vibrate. Snakes, humans, raptors and gorilla-dogs all seemed to be enjoying themselves, though the latter were wearing this seasons in-vogue dual air-filter gas masks and the raptors were wearing colourful binding tape on their talons and claws.
I made my way through the mass of biologicals, heading for one particular booth. I couldn’t tell if Squawky had moved during the intervening hours, but there he was, with his body-mutts still on duty. I heard their buzzsaw-like disapproval of seeing my face again as they ground their multiple rows of teeth, but I ignored it.
“Hey there, old buddy, old pal, so nice to see you again!” I called to Squawky, forcing a cheery grin on my face. I’m sure it looks like a rictus.
“[The feeling is not mutual, human. What do you want? Unless you’re buying or selling, I suggest you find another place to sit.]” Squawky gestured to Larry and Curly.
“You know, you never did tell me what it was you did,” I tell him, attempting and failing to slide in opposite him in the face of some large, furry walls of meat.
“[I sell… merchandise. For rent. For short periods of time. I’m sure I could find a spot for you in my, ah, stables, if you’re truly interested.]”
For a brief moment, I’m forced to entertain the idea of a future where I’m some sort of male pet gigolo to ogling xenos. My brain bluescreens, then reboots. He’s a pimp, right, focus on that. I size him up for a moment; he probably doesn’t like drugs. Probably doesn’t like ignorance and bad behaviour. Green would be… bad for business. It’d attract karnakians, which was good, but if one third of your clients — I wasn’t sure how much he sold to xenos versus humans, but I was sure he sold humans — would end up devouring your merchandise, well, that’s very bad for business. Had I been sent to exactly the right place to get rid of a rival? A thorn in his side? I led with that.
“Look, Squawky, I like you. You may not like me, but I respect you. Product like Marv is selling, that’s bad for everyone, am I right?”
Squawky seemed taken aback. “[Go on.]”
“Then you probably know where the latest deal is going down. Get me there and I’m gone, one way or another. Either face down and six feet under, or a million miles spinwards, but I’m gone.”
The karnakian growled under his breath. “[You come to me and beg for information twice, snatching scraps from my table with nothing to offer in return but damage to my plumage? You humans have a saying, [lay down with dogs and you get fleas]. You are a [dog] and I do not want [fleas]. I should have Gresjnjr rip your arms from your sockets and beat you to death with them right here and now, why should I help more than I already have?]”
I noticed ‘Larry’ flexing his claws. No sane dorarizin would kill a human I kept repeating to myself, but another, small part of my brain said nobody said anything about maiming though.
“S-sir, you know why you helped me in the first place. You could have ignored me, I’d find my way to his employers soon enough, but you knew that… you knew I’d find out about the ‘special orders’,” I did my best to stress the word, praying that the translator would take notice from stress patterns in my voice, “you knew that was where the rot was. You don’t like these ‘special orders’, they’re… they’re bad for business, right? Then let me—” I was interrupted by an enthusiastic dancer as she spun and tumbled onto Squawky’s table. “Shit, get off—” I started, and Larry and Curly were already moving, but it was too late. She unfurled her palm and, with a huge puff, blew a cloud of black-blue particles into the air.
For a brief eternity I saw, as the lights cycled, a settling miasma of black, blue, black, blue… green.
Shit.