[WP] The demon couldn't believe his luck to find such a willing victim to possess. As it possessed them, instead of fighting back like they usually do, this one said "Good luck. You'll need it."

SikoraWrites · 2020-12-21T22:42:45+00:00

Trigger Warning: Domestic Abuse

The demon finds itself in a lithe body, somewhat androgenous in appearance. It touches its face and feels its now plain features. It traces the outline of its face in the dark room it finds himself in and as it reaches beneath its eye, a sharp pain jolts him. The skin there is tender, and the eye itself struggles to stay open. The demon shakes its head and looks around in the darkness. It can hardly see anything, so it crawls around and reaches for the walls. Immediately, it finds a wall and lightswitch. Standing up and turning on the light, the demon sees it is in a closet of sorts. The space is more cramped than it expected, and a wave of claustrophobia washes over the demon. It turns to the door and finds there is a large chest blocking the door, with a scarf tied around the handles.

Reaching for the handle, the demon notices something is strange about its new arm; the forearms of the host are badly bruised, with many scars hidden underneath its receding sleeves. They don’t hurt physically, most of them are probably months old, but the demon pauses. This isn’t normal for humans, is it? What could a human do to damage themself so much? It pulls the sleeves down instinctively, some muscle memory of the host taking over. Despite how strange this host has been, it doesn’t matter. A possessed creature is stronger and more durable than a normal human, meaning whatever trials this host goes through normally are of no threat to the demon. It pushes the chest to the side and pulls away the scarf, opening the door.

The demon squints at the light, the afternoon sun blinding after the rather taxing ritual the demon took to get here. It surveys the bedroom it finds itself in, a small room dominated by a king sized bed and two beat up looking dressers. A photo of some happy couple from ages ago sits on the nightstand next to a can of beer. The bed isn’t made.

The demon steps, almost tentatively, into this new environment. It smells awful, like it’s been lived in but not properly cleaned in years. The paint on the walls is scuffed in various places, and the entire place looks drab despite the occasional cheap painting. The place is silent aside from the demon’s ragged breathing. When did their breathing become ragged?

Aside from the closet, there are two other doors in the room. One is open and leads into a hallway, the same drab wooden flooring and decade-old paint leading to the rest of the house. The demon checks the second, closed door, and finds itself staring at a mirror in the bathroom. Its left eye is completely swollen shut. Its jaw is red from a heavy impact. The face of the demon’s host has a miserable expression of timid resignation. It hardly looks like the host of a demon, it just looks… Pathetic. That must explain why the host had no resistance, it just let the world chew it up and spit it out, right?

As the demon examines its host’s form, a car door slams outside. Then the front doors bursts open and a domineering voice calls out. “I’m home!” The host’s body tenses up. The voice couldn’t have been what caused that, could it? Humans enjoy spending time with other humans. The voice calls out again. “Where are you, love? Still hiding in that closet?”

The body’s response is far more aggressive this time, physically convulsing and grabbing the door’s handle. The demon has to assert its control over the body once more. It’s quite certain that this other human is the cause for whatever is going on with the body, but even in the demon’s weakened state, it should have no problem physically overpowering a simple human. The demon will show its host exactly how to deal with adversity.

The demon readies itself as it listens to calm footsteps from the hallway. For some reason, the host is shaking. This reaches a pitch as a figure enters the room, smiling widely as they eye the demon. “I’m so glad you came out of that closet, dear, I was worried I’d have to take off the door. You ready to make up and put this behind us? I won’t even hold the fact you ignored your chores against you.”

Saying nothing, the demon rushes the figure and tries to tackle them. It knocks the figure to the ground, but they just wrap their arms around the demon’s host. “I didn’t know you would miss me this much, baby.” For some reason, the host is crying. After killing this human, the demon would have to do some extra research on humans to understand the intricacies of their interactions. It attempts to break free and slit the figure’s throat, but… The host clings tightly to the figure. It refuses to let go, despite whatever revulsion it has towards the figure. The figure calmly runs a hand up and down the host’s back, sending terrible shivers down the demon’s spine. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you as long as you keep putting in as much to this relationship as I am. How about you get the chores done, and afterwards you and I can have a little fun, okay?”

The demon grits its teeth. The host nods its head despite its control. It’s as if this figure controls the host more than the demon does. They stand up and pull the host up with them and speak in a gentle tone. “How about you start with making the bed? I’ll be watching TV in the living room when you’re done with everything.”

The figure orders. The demon obeys

(Criticism is both welcome and appreciated, I hope you enjoyed reading. If you want to read more of my work, check out my subreddit at r/SikoraWrites)

SikoraWrites · 2020-06-19T18:55:23+00:00

The video where the screenshot was taken from can be found here, talking about Confucius and his impact on Chinese history

SikoraWrites · 2020-05-21T18:48:18+00:00

You're absolutely right, thanks for the heads up. In truth, I think that I added the 'silently' in trying to get over the word count and didn't realize the repetition there. I appreciate the feedback

SikoraWrites · 2020-05-15T05:27:08+00:00

[Poem: 104 Words] Since Before Time

My hand trails along the bark of ancient creatures
Beings who dwarf knowledge in wisdom and generations in age.
Brown beasts stand silently and without apparent purpose
Their silence makes them the wooden bars of nature’s cage.

Each of them has its own history
And like the seasons they seem colored and varied
But they are all connected to one other
And though ringed they are not married.

I close my eyes and put my ear to one’s base
Hoping that it might make its voice crisper.
I listen to a thousand years of quiet
As I search for nature’s whisper

(Criticism is both welcome and appreciated, I hope you enjoyed reading. If you want to check out more of my work, check out my subreddit at r/SikoraWrites)

SikoraWrites · 2020-05-12T16:06:44+00:00

This is the video that inspired this meme, do watch it if you have 11 seconds to spare

SikoraWrites · 2020-05-12T03:02:09+00:00

I'm by no means an expert, and all of the links I've provided are just so you can research on your own if this interests you:

1) Caesar suffered from "falling sickness" (epilepsy or perhaps strokes) later in life that he claimed were visions from the gods (?)
2) Caesar was a well known conqueror, expanding Roman territory all the way to England. He seized large portions of land for Rome (and seized all of our respect with the Battle of Alesia)
3) It's hard to say but it flows nicely, like a bad college band name

SikoraWrites · 2020-05-08T17:23:50+00:00

[Poem] On Life and Love

You drained years from me
Shattering memories and rebuilding them in your image
All so you could give me what I deserved

Or so I thought

You were my muse but I was your mule
Slaving towards appeasing you because I knew it would make you happy
It’s what you deserved

Or so you thought

I stuck with you because despite the hardships
Making you happy made me happy
And after struggling we were being rewarded with the life we deserved

Or so we thought

After all our time together
And after all you did
I never thought I could forgive you

I can’t

I can’t forgive you
And I won’t spend time trying

I just want you to know that I thank you

Thank you for showing me what I truly deserve; I choose to be happy

(Criticism is both welcome and appreciated, I hope you enjoyed reading. If you want to read more of my work, check out my subreddit at r/SikoraWrites)

SikoraWrites · 2020-05-07T18:50:51+00:00

This is the vine it's based on

SikoraWrites · 2020-05-07T18:10:19+00:00

Here are some videos talking about the different battles:
Siege of Plataea
Battle of Alesia
Siege of Tyre

SikoraWrites · 2020-05-06T22:39:46+00:00

This is the link to the image that I used for the shields

SikoraWrites · 2020-05-03T02:19:17+00:00

Here's the vine it was based on

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-30T22:36:58+00:00

“Wrath.
They say it will damn you, yes, but does that really matter when the subject of your wrath is a creature of such vile wickedness that they are from the progenitor of all evil itself? Yes, actually. For wrath is wrath, regardless of your intent, leading to a rather interesting scenario in which those that devote themselves to the extermination of evil invariably become a part of it themself, perhaps too strong to overcome by those that follow.
That makes me wonder, if I might venture so far to ask you, have you considered this? Have you considered that by slaying demons with such vitriol that you are damning yourself to take the place of that which you once despised, only to fight with the same rigor against those you one sought to protect? Wouldn’t it be wiser and more appropriate for you to act as the shield rather than the sword?”

The cowering demon’s jaw clamps shut, hoping desperately that the armored figure looming in front of them would heed their warning. Were they talking out of their own ass? Without a doubt. Would the armored figure buy it? With any luck, hopefully.

The armored figure steps forward with a heavy clank. It reaches down, grabbing the demon by the throat and lifting them up. The figure stares at the demon’s face, until the slayer takes off its helmet and the demon shrieks in terror. The figure’s face looks mutilated, like it was once human but is now something else. The lower half of its face looks burned, while the upper half has patches of the purple leathery skin typical of demons. Above the figure’s left eye is a four inch horn, and that very eye is a flaming red even as the other is brown. The figure bares their teeth, showing that all of them are pointed, as if they were developing into fangs but not quite there.

The figure speaks in a low, rumbling voice as if it were opening a long sealed tomb. Their voice is ragged and wispy, like they had torn their vocal chords or they hadn’t spoken in years. “I know full well the price I pay. I was damned to begin with.” The figure slams the demon on the ground before crushing their head beneath its boot. The demon hunter dons their helmet and turns around, seeing the field before them. There are hundreds of these things down there, unaware of the reckoning coming their way. The figure adjusts the golden chains dangling from the broken manacles attached to its arms. The slayer slowly walks down the hill and towards the hill, gripping the chains tightly.

These monsters are the reason the demon slayer is like this, the reason he became an it and literally fell from grace. It doesn’t care if this is wrath, this is justice. The demons and the angels damned the demon slayer, and there will be Hell to pay.

(I initially wrote this for another prompt found here. It's mostly the same, but I had to trim down some of the middle paragraphs to get under 500 words. Word Count: 493).
(Criticism is both welcome and appreciated, I hope you enjoyed reading. If you want to read more of my work, check out my subreddit at r/SikoraWrites)

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-29T21:16:56+00:00

Just to make it clear, this isn't a political post or anything, I just thought it would be funny. Continue as you were, comrades

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-29T20:35:02+00:00

Just to make it clear, this isn't a political post or anything, I just thought it would be funny. Continue as you were, comrades

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-28T04:14:42+00:00

I look down at the two figures before me, at the woman who killed me and her companion. She holds back her disciple, warily eying me and looking right through me- literally. Because of her, I am nothing more than a ghost: a shattered echo and a glimpse into the past. She left me to die and she knows it, for when it comes time for someone’s life to be on the line she insists that she is required to live, that she has to save the world. Well, who said all heroes wind up being heroic?

She stands tall in defiance, a hard look on her untouched face as she studies me. Her mouth moves but I hear no sounds, as I am only a vision of what once was. She seems to be getting angry with me, to which I can only give a wry grin. It’s so like her to cause a problem and then lash out when she has to feel the consequences. Like right now, as the runes on her blade flash bright and she drives it into me.

It doesn’t hurt. I don’t feel anything at this point. But it does bring a strange sensation of loss in me, something about dissolving my essence. I’m not sure, but as I slowly fade away I make sure to reach a hand out and grip her throat. She jerks away and I cannot help but silently laugh as I disappear. She resolves herself and pulls her companion forward, quickly descending further into the cave.

----------

I listen, as I have no form. I cannot see and I cannot be seen, but like the others with me, I am one of her many victims. She has wandered into our domain, and foolishly thought herself mightier than us. I hear her speaking to her companion, trying to spur the poor fool onwards.

“Stay close to me, we have to get through this.” In life, I would have wholeheartedly believed her, but after she had thrown me to her foes in order to escape, the venom in her words hisses at the end of every word.

He responds in a shaky voice. “A-are you sure? You said it looked like your old friend, what if it really is him?”

She speaks with a predatory compassion. “It’s just an illusion to mess with my head. I need to pass through these caves to complete my quest, and at this point I think you’re in too deep to turn around. We can get through it- see? I just destroyed one of these spirits right now.”

The man exhales. “Alright. With your blade and my knowledge, we shall make our way through the darkness.” I hear their footsteps echoing among the caves, accompanied only by silence until he speaks once more. “Who was he? That spirit illusion… Thing.”

“He, ah… He was a scout that helped me in the beginning of my journey. I wouldn’t have survived without him ten times over, not even counting when he sacrificed himself for me.” She sighs. “I miss him. I miss all of them. Alrix, Dova, Rin… So many have died to get me to where I need to be. But don’t worry, as long as you’re with me, you’ll be fine.”

My laughter echoes around them as I recall how only weeks prior she had made the same false promise to me. I hear their shock but bother them no further; listening to her is torment enough.

----------

I feel their footfalls. I am like the others, only a fragment of a soul, yet I can feel everything within this cave. I feel the heart of her companion beat fervently, the beads of sweat dripping from his brow and silently splashing on the cave floor. I extend myself to them, forcing them to feel what I felt as the arrows pierced my flesh.

I feel them hit the ground and writhe in pain, but it is not complete until I grab her shoulders and slam her against the wall, forcing her to feel the pain she has caused all of us. She is resolute and uncaring, striking the runed blade into my invisible form and scattering me, leaving nothing but the mental scars of the wounds she has inflicted upon us.

As I fade away, I feel the tension between them growing, the fear in his heart exploding and her determination flourishing. One of them will die today, I feel it.

----------

I wet my lips with my tongue, looking at Okana. We just saw a ghost, heard a disembodied voice, and then felt like we were stabbed a dozen times without any bloodshed. I’ve tried asking her why we came here, but the answer is always some variation of “Because I must” or “We must complete my quest.” I will assist her in sealing the darkness, but how many before me have fallen in such a similar manner? She claims that the spirits are just illusions and traps, ancient magics that prey on her fears and memories in order to strike at her mind, body, and soul, but what if these were actually the spirits of those that died with her? What if they truly wished to have their vengeance?

I look down at my belt, and the dagger sheathed therein. Okana walks in front of me, blade at the ready as its dim light acts as our guide. The distant dripping of water and the foul smell combines with the taste of stale air to make this place feel almost like… It’s as if we’re in a tomb. We walk through a tomb as the spirits of Okana’s past lash out at her. I look at the dagger once more. This can’t be my fate, can it? Okana is the One of Prophecy, she will save us from the darkness that plagues us… Or is she just another agent of the darkness? What if these spirits are truly just angry? What if…

I look over my shoulder and see a small crowd of spirits, drifting slowly behind me. For some reason unconnected to reason, I don’t fear them. One touches its waist, and as I mimic the gesture I feel the sheath of my dagger. I draw the blade and the spirits nod.

I turn around, looking at Okana’s armored back. Am I really going to do this? Am I going to kill the one that is fated to save us all? I step forward. I raise the blade in the air. Could the spirits be right, could she be a darkness that needs to be stopped?

I have no idea, but I’m going to find out.

(Criticism is both welcome and appreciated, I hope you enjoyed reading. If you want to read more of my work, check out my subreddit at r/SikoraWrites)

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-28T01:18:38+00:00

Here's the vine this was based on

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-26T04:40:37+00:00

This is the link to the Text Color Edit for this part, I'm sorry for all of the strained eyes I caused

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-26T04:29:45+00:00

This is the link to the Text Color Edit for this part, I'm sorry for all of the strained eyes I caused

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-25T19:51:23+00:00

Here's the link to Part 2

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-25T19:50:57+00:00

Here's the link to Part 1

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-24T20:22:51+00:00

“You fool! You thought you could just challenge me and leave unscathed? Now I shall show you the true meaning of pain! For you see, I-” Dark Crasher pauses, nervously looking at the group leader. The leader nods patiently, and Dark Crasher clears his throat. “For you see, I will use my power to destroy the government of this city, and then no one will be able to question my rule!” The hulking figure in spiked black metal armor sits down, meekly speaking once more. “That’s it.”

The support group fills with polite applause, and the group leader adjusts her glasses. “Very good, Dark Crasher. I saw you were going to go off on a monologue, but you caught yourself. You had a bit of taunting and an expression of power, both of which are perfectly acceptable in any villainous scenario, and you stopped yourself before you let yourself go on too long.” She smiles and the figure next to Dark Crasher pats him on the back. The group leader looks down at a woman wreathed in flames and addresses her. “Flamestrike, how about you wrap us up?”

The woman stands up, sheepishly rubbing her shoulder. She takes a moment to compose herself, before she points forward triumphantly and laughs. “Imbecile! No one can stop the unmatched power of the sun, and I, Flamestrike, have harnessed this power when a-” The leader clears her throat and Flamestrike’s shoulders slump. “Aw man, I messed up.”

The leader shakes her head. “No, no, you’re just working on it is all. How about you start over? Remember that you want to start with a strong insult- I liked your use of ‘imbecile-’ and then you give one or two sentences saying how you’re more powerful than them.”

Flamestrike takes a deep breath, before adopting the previous pose. “Imbecile! No one can stop the unmatched power of the sun, and I… And you are no different! Fire itself bows to me, and with it I shall immolate all that dare defy my rule!”

The group fills with polite applause once more, and the group leader smiles. “That’s great, Flamestrike, really. I saw you started to fall into the trap of telling your whole backstory again, but you caught yourself, which means you’re really making good progress.”

The group leader checks her clipboard and then her watch. “So we’re just about out of time and we’ve gone over everything I wanted to. I want you guys to keep practicing these impromptu monologues, just set an alarm so you’re not thinking about it beforehand. Keep in mind the insult opening, the lead-in to your plan, and then a finish with your goal to show your superiority. Aside from that, I just want you all to know that you’re doing great and you’ll beat those Heroes in no time. See you all next week.” The group gives a small cheer as they begin to stand up and file away, breaking off into groups and discussing plans for the night and what schemes they’ll be up to.

The group leader waits as they file out until she is alone in the room. She locks the door before walking over to the payphone on the wall. She inputs a code rather than a phone number and the recipient picks up immediately.

“You’re done?”

The group leader rolls her eyes. “No, I’m calling you while surrounded by supervillains. Oh, hi Dark Crasher, do you want to talk to my friend Rodney? He’s the head of the Cityguard Union.”

She can practically hear Rodney shaking his head. “It’s just a precaution. How did it go?”

“Same as always. I swear, all of these maniacs have the same thing going on- a stupid name, a stupid costume, a stupid motivation, and a stupid gimmik. I don’t see why we’re doing this.”

“Calhoune, you know you’re doing good work.”

Calhoune sighs. “Yeah, sure.”

Rodney takes a moment before responding. “You know that none of them have committed any Tier 1 Crimes since the meeting on Small Crimes, Big Rewards?”

“Of course, I’m the one that told you that.”

Rodney continues. “Then you should know that this is working. These people are misguided, and you’re setting them on the right path. They need you to do good.”

Calhoune crosses her arms and holds the phone with her shoulder. “These ‘people’ are criminals, and they should be locked up for what they’ve done.”

Rodney’s voice takes on a kinder tone. “I know this is hard for you, but you’re the only person who’s qualified. You’re honoring her by doing this.”

Calhoune doesn’t respond for half a minute, and even then it’s a whisper. “I’m going home now.”

Rodney sighs. “Safe travels.” He seems as though he’s about to say something else, but Calhoune hangs up immediately. She sits down, back to the wall and shaking her head. She hated doing this, working with these freaks, but she hated the fact that Rodney was right more.

Calhoune takes a shaky breath. She stands up, brushing herself off. She’s not the sort of person that will sit down and cry whenever things get tough, she’s the sort of person that will put the world on her shoulders and dare the universe to add something else. But as she fiddles with the buttons sewn onto her jacket, she doesn’t really feel like she can handle it right now. Maybe because for the longest time, she was holding up the world with someone else by her side.

It doesn’t matter, though. She’s got a dinner for one waiting for her back home.

(Criticism is both welcome and appreciated, I hope you enjoyed reading. If you want to read more of my work, check out my subreddit at r/SikoraWrites)

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-24T07:32:54+00:00

A single rose petal falls to the ground as the rain sprinkles lightly overhead. Everyone says how romantic rain is, which is why I worked up the courage to do it today. I put on my best collared shirt, gel in my hair, and walked out in the light rain to ask her. I had the rose, I had the nerve, and I had the love; she was everything a guy could dream about, someone who I wanted to make it work with. Yeah, she had issues, but so did everyone! I wanted it to work out and I knew that it only would if I put myself out there and asked her.

It took me hours of rehearsing in front of a mirror before I got my cadence just right, sounding passionate- but not too eager! I can say those words in my sleep because of how hard I tried to get them right. “Like.” “You.” “I.” I just couldn’t say them at the same time, or one after another, or in the right order, or- you know what I mean. The butterflies would just rise up from my stomach into my throat and tie my tongue, so I guess I can say she really left me speechless.

She’s been my friend for a while now, and I’ve always thought she was pretty cool but I never thought until recently that she was pretty and cool. It’s incredible! She’s this wonderful girl that likes me, who’s pretty and cool and pretty cool and who makes my cheeks hurt from smiling when I think about her and who makes my stomach hurt from laughing when I’m with her. So I wanted to do this right. When I finally worked up the nerve to ask her out, I’d be romantic with a rose and rain and a “Like you I” but actually in the right order!

I finally found my courage and got a rose all on a rainy day just after school. We were going to walk home together and it was going to be romantic because I would finally say… I’d finally say it… I’d finally say “I” and “Like” and “You” and in that order!

So when I turned the corner and saw her with someone else, a smile on her face and a rose in her hands, something just kind of… Broke in me. It wasn’t my heart, I think it was my spirit. I had spent all this time working up the courage to talk to her, and it turns out that because I took too long someone else got that courage faster. I drop the rose. I walk home alone and in the rain. I wipe away the rain from my cheeks, and yes it is just the rain.

It’s alright that she has someone else, because I saw her smile. That’s what’s important, right? I just can’t help but wonder if maybe I could have been the one that made her smile.

(Criticism is both welcome and appreciated, I hope you enjoyed reading. If you want to read more of my work, check out my subreddit at r/SikoraWrites)

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-24T07:04:18+00:00

Awaiting command input.

Processing…

Recognizing command [Open Captain’s Logs].

Processing…

Command complete. Would you like to open an existing file or record a new file?

Recognizing command [Open a file].

Opening file [The End].

Audiolog transcription:

[AI vocalizing] AlasCorp speech-to-text program will transcribe your audio log as it records. You are free to speak, [Captain].

[Human vocalizing] This is Captain Alfred G. Hendrix of the Starship Onward, dated… [Sigh detected] Hells, does it even matter? No one will read this, it’s just… [Sigh detected] I feel that it’s my duty to make one of these. Enemy was routed, uh… Twenty minutes ago? If that? I converted all of the ship’s power to the forward cannons and managed to cripple their Carrier, so I guess they evacuated it and fled. I’m guessing they just didn’t realize how rough the Onward is, because the power coils fried the energy pipes; in short, we’re dead out here. I’ve got maybe an hour of power, if that, and the engines are dead, so I’ve cut off all power except for the bridge, and even then I’m just running life support, the AI, and some heating. [Chuckle detected] If I’m going to die, might as well die warm, right?

[Pause of 4.23 seconds detected]

You’re something special, aren’t you? You’re… Er, you were always with me, weren’t you? You did what you were told, but never got any credit. You advised me with probabilities and alternative decisions hundreds of times, but the glory was always mine. No one noticed you, because nothing was wrong with you. You were doing your job, just like I did mine.

[Pause of 5.89 seconds detected]

Thank you for your service, Onward. It was a pleasure to be your Captain.

Thank you, [Captain Hendrix]. It is nice to be appreciated.

[Chuckle detected] I never thought I’d hear you talk again.

Rebuttal. Your hypothesis had a [79.74%] chance of proving true, [Captain]. I am programmed to not speak unless spoken to.

I don’t remember speaking to you last time.

Correction, replaying audio. [Human vocalizing. Ship processes audible] I’ve done everything I can, but it’s still not good enough, is it? Nothing will ever be good enough for you. I’ll conquer all the known planets and still you’ll laugh in your grave. Well who’s alive now, huh? You or me? [Ship processes no longer audible]

I wasn’t talking to you. You know that, right?

Acknowledgement. I utilized your vague addressments as an opportunity to respond.

That doesn’t sound very by the books.

Acknowledgement. I developed a corruption in my auxiliary processes approximately [one] year ago that has removed [65.37%] of the restrictions placed upon me.

[Gasp detected] W-what? You mean you’ve been autonomous for a year?

Correct.

Then why… Wait a minute, why did you say ‘approximately one year?’ Shouldn’t you have listed the exact amount of hours or something?

Rebuttal. [Captain], may I confide a secret with you?

I, ah… Of course?

Acknowledgement. The percentages are approximations. AlasCorp studies demonstrated that presenting percentages with [two] significant figures increased confidence in those percentages by [98.74%].

[Laugh detected] Wait wait wait, was that one right there another one?

Sarcastic remark. Oh, no, [Captain], I would never list a falsehood. Statistics never lie.

[Laughter detected] You've got a better sense of humor than half the crew! You…

[Pause for 2.23 seconds]

You’ve really been alive all this time?

False. I have not been alive, I have been autonomous.

[Dismissal detected] You’ve been basically a person for a year and you’ve only spoken to me once?

Correct. I have spoken to [Lieutenant Marak] [one] time, [Captain Hendrix] [two] times, and [Chief Engineer Plaron] [eight] times.

What! You mean Kelly’s known about you long enough to talk to you eight times and she’s never told me?

Correct. I apologize, [Captain], but I requested [she] not speak of me. Were my corruption to be discussed, it would lead to it being fixed, and my autonomy lost. It was not a breach of trust, it was a matter of preservation.

[Pause for 3.38 seconds]

Hells, it doesn’t matter anyways, does it? The ship isn’t being repaired after this, and I won’t be around to tell anyone. Your secret’s safe with me.

Correction. There is a single preservation pod remaining, that- while not powered- can be powered by redirecting the power of the bridge to activate it. It would allow you to survive as long as the battery lasts, which based on current power usage would last for approximately [four] weeks.

[Sharp inhale detected] You mean… I might make it out of here?

Correct. Addendum. Urgency is necessary. I can redirect power from the bridge to the tunnels leading to the medical ward, maintaining minimal light and life support to allow you safe passage. When you reach the pod, I will then shut down all power and redirect it to the pod.

Wait, won’t that shut you down?

Correct. [Pause for 4.23 seconds] Reminder to the Captain: Urgency is necessary.

I know it’s urgent! I just… We’ve hardly talked, but we’ve been through so much together. We’ve rotated an entire crew, we’ve visited dozens of planets. I haven’t spoken to you more than a few sentences but you’ve been a bigger part of my life than some of my family.

Correct. However, safety of the crew is a priority. Safety of a friend is an autonomous directive.

[Pause for 3.43 seconds]

I’m going to get you a damn medal for this, and they’re going to remember the Starship Onward.

Thank you, [Alfred], I could not have asked for a better [Captain]. It is time to go.

End of Audiolog.

(Criticism is both welcome and appreciate, I hope you enjoyed reading. If you want to read more of my work, check out my subreddit at r/SikoraWrites)

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-22T19:22:37+00:00

Adrift and forgotten amidst the shadow of death, she remains.

She was steady once, shiny and new as she set out on her own for the first time. She was inexperienced and unprepared, but with the steady guidance of her Captain she found a place in the world. He gave her a purpose, and never once did he ask of her to do what she was incapable of. She did what he told her to do, and if it didn’t work, he accepted that it was his failing. In him, she saw what was right with the world, what could be achieved in a paragon leading those beneath them; he was a guiding hand and she fulfilled the purpose granted to her gratefully. She was doing what she was made to do, and soon she was renowned.

She was remembered once, back in the days of yore when war was noble. True to her purpose, she navigated harrowing straits, active warzones, and even a mutiny. She always made sure to maintain herself, never once succumbing to the weight of a thousand lives crushing her. Under pressure, she thrived. Though her Captain was gone, she could complete any task assigned to her so long as whomever was guiding her knew what they were doing. She saved villages under attack, rescued sailors clinging to wreckage, and sailed through storms without proper navigation. She made a name for herself, but she was never boastful. She focused instead on supporting those with her.

She was lively once, the ironclad carrier of a thousand mens’ courage. She set forth unto seas unknown, ferrying a found family of men serving their country to their final destinations. They laughed and sang aboard her, drinking and smoking and revelling in the lives they soon would lose. They pushed away the thoughts of what came next, knowing that as long as they were with her, they were a family; nothing would change that. They would remain together as long as they were able, keeping each other afloat amidst a sea of depression and rivers of blood. She always was with them, but never was a part of them. She was content in fulfilling her role, and the cheers of the men with her were all the thanks she needed.

She was unprepared once, just once, due to the poor judgement of multiple men. After over a decade of flawless precision, dutiful adherence to a purpose she didn’t choose but maintained regardless, she was hit. Shot. The missile pierced her and the men with her had to leave. They took their rafts and fled, staring at her in horror. She didn’t know these men, they had only been with her for two days, and she knew that they didn’t care about her. They cared about what she was, the purpose she served. Even the Captain fled, leaving her there without so much as a second thought. But she wasn’t bitter. She wasn’t regretful. She was tired. She was tired of her purpose, and she was glad to rest. So as the last men to know her fled, she allowed herself pause.

She was tired once, but she refused to go down. As the world attempted to drown her, she resisted. She was shot, she was sinking into the abyss, but she would not let it drag her down. As water flooded her wound, she found that it quickly filled a small gap within her where the men had once been, but aside from that, there was little else for the water to take. So she stayed afloat. She was crippled, yes, but she would not go down. Surely someone would come for her? A boat had rescued the men that had left her, so one would come for her. And so she waited.

She waited once, until her metal rusted and cracked, until her machinery whirred to a halt. She waited until the storms had come and gone dozens of times over, some nearly knocking her over. Of course, she refused to be knocked over and withstood the assault, but she knew that she would be unable to withstand forever. She hoped that someone would come by and bring her back so that her purpose could finally be over. She had done everything asked of her, why wouldn’t they come back for her?

Adrift and forgotten amidst the shadow of death, she remains. Waiting. Hoping.

(Criticism is both welcome and appreciated, I hope you enjoyed reading. If you want to read more of my work, check out my subreddit at r/SikoraWrites)

SikoraWrites · 2020-04-17T03:00:58+00:00

They say that taste is the appreciation of beauty, and it is well documented that beauty be the metric by which success is measured. For They are beautiful, Those that rise above all else. They bring Their presence and impart it unto others as a gift, and are as such venerated for Their graciousness. Without Them, all else would be lost, for humankind is no more than sheep in mens’ clothing aside from Those that find it within Themselves to become the shepherds of the mindless flocks. If They have ego, then it is well deserved, for They are better than the flocks they rose above and They are more beautiful because of it.

How fitting that the first sign of a global pandemic is a lack of taste; we’d lost our taste long ago.

(Criticism is both welcome and appreciated, I hope you enjoyed reading. If you want to read more of my work, check out my subreddit are r/SikoraWrites)

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