FT: Argentina U20 0-2 Nigeria U20

Nigeria U20 scorers: Ibrahim Muhammad (61'), Rilwanu Sarki (90'+1')
Venue: San Juan del Bicentenario
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LINE-UPS
Argentina U20
Federico Gomes, Diego Gomez, Tomás Avilés (Ignacio Maestro Puch), Valentín Barco, Agustín Giay, Valentin Carboni (Gino Infantino), Federico Redondo, Mateo Tanlongo, Alejo Veliz, Luka Romero, Brian Aguirre (Juan Gauto).
Subs: Lucas Lavagnino, Ignacio Miramon, Máximo Perrone, Matìas Soulè, Lautaro Di Lollo, Nicolás Cláa, Román Vega.
^{____________________________}
Nigeria U20
Chijioke Aniagboso, Abel Ogwuche, Benjamin Fredrick, Solomon Agbalaka, Daniel Bameyi, Daniel Daga, Tochukwu Nadi (Joshua John), Samson Lawal (Kahinde Ibrahim), Salim Lawal (Umeh Emmanuel), Jude Sunday (Rilwanu Sarki), Ibrahim Muhammad (Victor Eletu).
Subs: Nathaniel Nwosu, Israel Domingo, Ibrahim Abdullahi, Augustine Njoku, John Utoblo.
MATCH EVENTS via ESPN
45'+1' Federico Redondo (Argentina U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
57' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Rilwanu Sarki replaces Jude Sunday.
57' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Umeh Emmanuel replaces Salim Lawal.
61' Goal! Argentina U20 0, Nigeria U20 1. Ibrahim Muhammad (Nigeria U20) left footed shot from the centre of the box to the bottom right corner. Assisted by Umeh Emmanuel with a through ball.
65' Substitution, Argentina U20. Juan Gauto replaces Brian Aguirre.
75' Substitution, Argentina U20. Ignacio Maestro Puch replaces Tomás Avilés.
75' Substitution, Argentina U20. Gino Infantino replaces Valentín Carboni.
79' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Victor Eletu replaces Ibrahim Muhammad.
90'+1' Goal! Argentina U20 0, Nigeria U20 2. Rilwanu Sarki (Nigeria U20) header from the centre of the box to the centre of the goal. Assisted by Victor Eletu.
90'+3' Gino Infantino (Argentina U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
90'+4' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Joshua John replaces Tochukwu Nadi.
90'+4' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Kehinde Ibrahim replaces Samson Lawal.
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So, I have an MPC Live 2 and a Polyend Play (and a load of synths, drum machines etc). What I don’t really have is a dedicated sampler -obviously in the studio I can sample into the MPC (though it’s a bit more fussy than I’d like). I had a second hand Electribe but moved it on as I never really fell in love with the workflow.
I’m creating a variety of experimental electro pieces: some trap/lo-Fi beats; some ambient; some more glitchy, industrial stuff. I am really looking to add some samples both from the natural environment and from other sound sources. My question is, is the 404 the best option for pure sampling and sample manipulation? I don’t really see myself creating full tracks on it - that’s what the other two are for, but I do want something fairly powerful to record on the fly and edit down to something exportable. Is that the 404 or is there something more appropriate? I’m having fun with Koala, but it’s in-the-box manipulation is pretty basic.

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Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
— Langston Hughes
Catalogue Description
Self-Monitoring Behavioural Management Report: Casimir Szymański, Scazim Institute of Science and Technology - English Translation
Date:
15 Summer-2 3429 (Standard Parimthian Calendar)
November 23rd, 2162 (Gregorian Calendar)
Held by:
The UK National Archives, Kew
Legal status:
Public Record(s)
My father worshipped a fabricated, pagan prophet.
The Senghavi of the Parimthian Empire are principally joined under the ditheistic religion called Siedi, which I do not subscribe to. Of course, the Senghavi's literature, art, and faith flooded the whole of Earth upon their arrival a century ago. From this ocean of civilised culture, my degenerate species drew a sample, claimed it as our own, and polluted it with a distorted, appropriated, dumbed-down doctrine.
The central figure in this corrupt sample of Siedi was a man whom my father called Jesus Christ. He was said to have offered himself as a sacrifice that could be made to a single God. It was a final sacrifice, one beyond lambs or cattle or people. One that would atone for humanity's sins, so that we could have the free choice between the eternal presence of God and the eternal absence of "Him."
My father dressed himself in black, with a standing collar whose white fabric was exposed at the centre. That much, I could recall. He preached to hopeful humans in what was called a church, though I did not know what he was preaching. At the very least, my childhood is fuzzy in that regard.
The pain that throbbed through my skull, after the blonde savage had slammed my head against the ridges of the airlock, faded into the background. I could not focus; perhaps, I thought, one of their improvised explosives had gone off by accident. There was blue Senghavi blood staining my dress shirt. The rush of air escaping into vacuum pierced my ears.
Perhaps it was thirst of water, which binds most sapient beings—the Sons of Liberty had reached an agreement with the Colonial Defence Force to allow spacecraft delivering food, water, and medical aid, only to unleash the anti-collision lasers of this cursed spaceliner upon those very ships.
Or perhaps it was the explosion, as I initially thought, an inadvertent complication which had wrought injury and death over my countrymen, and which had forced the terrorist savages to attempt to patch up the many hull breaches left by debris.
Or perhaps it was simply the stress of betraying, in my desperate efforts to save everyone from this senseless violence, the greatest secret of the Senghavi Terrans: our antimatter research. Word of it had likely been forwarded already, hundreds of light-years away, to that pink-hued marble which was Parimth itself.
Or perhaps it was all three; thirst, explosion, and stress. In any case, my mind shut it all out, and something lost from my childhood flashed before me:
We're standing on the cracked street of the Vennec Human Reservation. In the distance, the Senghavi's white, glassy spires reach above the clouds, their accents of luminescence dim in the broad daylight.
I hold a ball in my palm. It's wrapped in white leather held together with red stitching. I toss it to Dad.
Instead of his clerical uniform, he wears the normal "T-shirt" and "cargo shorts." Along with the clerical getup, they are just two of the many sorts of clothing which the Senghavi have invented for humanity. I toss the ball to Dad, and he swings a primitive wooden bat.
The ball goes soaring, further than he meant to. He jogs down the road to retrieve it, then gives me the wooden bat. The breeze ruffles his hair just as he ruffles mine with his hand.
"Now, you try," he says. "It's just practice, that's all."
For some reason, he lifts one leg in the air, then pitches the ball to me. I swing. The impact of the ball shakes through the wood, and it goes careening off to the left.
"I did it!" I yell. "But it went out of bounds."
"Heyyyy, that's not bad," Dad says with a reassuring voice. "Good job, just try to go a little more right next time."
Mom comes out onto the front porch, the breeze ruffling her dress as she waves to Dad. "Dinner's ready, and Mom's pie is... almost ready."
I stare blankly at her until I realise that she is talking about her Mom, Grandma, who is the best at making pumpkin pie.
"The pie!" I shout, running and jumping to the front door. "I totally forgot about that!"
I am ready to speed my way through dinner just so I can get to dessert, but Dad stops me before my first bite.
Of course, I think. We need to say grace. Me, Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa all hold hands, thanking God for our food, and then dig in. But Mom and Dad just talk about work, and I am too focused on finishing my food quickly to pitch in.
Finally—Grandma's pie!
When you bite into the soft, smooth filling, you can instantly tell it's been made with fresh pumpkins, not the boring canned ones. The taste of cinnamon and spice is balanced out perfectly with the coolness of the whipped cream.
The flavour spreads through my tongue and nostrils, filling my entire brain with a feeling of amazing-ness. If I wrote the Simple-Speak Dictionary for Senghavi Terrans, I'd put Grandma's pie next to the translation of "perfection."
I should save a slice, I think, for the Senghavi kid.
Even though it's only been a week since I met him through the playground fence, we already told each other where we live, and I want to get to know him more. He doesn't live on the Vennec Human Reservation, but his house is just a bike-ride away in Fellye Neighborhood.
I wonder if anyone's ever given pumpkin pie to an alien before. Even though humans only invented it fifty years ago, it makes me feel proud of my species!
When Mom tucks me into bed, kissing my forehead, I tell her what I'm going to do.
"Oh, you wild thing," she coos. "You're so much like your father. And you have his eyes, you know? Just stay safe."
"Don't worry, I'll do my best."
>! "Good night. I love you." !<
>! "I love you, too, Mom," I say. I hug her tightly from my bed, and a warm, fuzzy feeling blossoms within me. I can hardly fall asleep in my excitement. !<
Luckily, Fellye Neighborhood doesn't take apartheid that seriously, and I don't think anybody cares about an eight year-old human riding his bicycle around the gates.
Next evening, I do just that, peddling out of the Reservation's entrance into the violet dusk. When I get to Mensim's address, I ring the hi-tech front doorbell, and a really tall Senghavi shows up.
"Oh, dear," she says in Parimthian. "A barbarian hatchling—by what name do you go?"
"I'm Casimir," I say nervously. I don't pay that much attention in school, but I know just enough Parimthian to talk to the Senghavi woman. "Are you Mrs. Munghazi? Is Mensim fe Munghazi here? I got two slices of pie. You can have one, too!"
She looks at me suspiciously, antennae twitching. "That would be Teacher Munghazi to you; I know not why you natives invented these odd 'Mister' and 'Missis' honorifics. Hold on—Ghanvati! A native hatchling stands at our doorstep!"
Ghanvati must be Mensim's dad. I wonder where his other moms are; only one has shown up to the door. Ghanvati shows up with two of them—they are both shorter and daintier than Teacher Munghazi, their raptorial forelimbs folded shyly against their bodies. In front of the group of three is Mensim, and I involuntarily gasped with excitement.
"Mensim!"
"This is your new companion?" Ghanvati asks Mensim.
Mensim's papery forewings flicker with affirmation. "I met him at school."
"What, pray tell, is the point of apartheid if it does not actually keep natives away from Senghavi?" whines one of Ghanvati's wives.
Ghanvati's antennae droop as if to say "I don't know," while Mensim lifts my arms, inspecting me like I am a test animal in a mad scientist's laboratory.
"How do you guys not get cut all the time?" he asks, tracing his tarsal hairs over my bare skin. "You're so fleshy!"
"I do get cut all the time," I giggled. "We just use band-aids. Oh, do you wanna eat a pumpkin pie?"
It turned out that pumpkin pie is bad for alien stomachs. Mensim had to go to the bathroom for a long time, and three of his moms got mad at me.
When I got back, Dad and Mom were arguing. I snuck close to the back porch, making sure they couldn't hear me.
"Yes, they leave some people alone," Dad said. "Obviously, they can't spy on every single human who believes in human religions. But Katarzyna, they still need people to make an example out of, and I don't want to be that person!"
"Casimir is a responsible kid," Mom retorts. "I told him he can't tell anyone what you do, and he listens to me."
"He's eight years old. You can't just let him wander around aliens with a secret that could have me killed! Or have you killed!"
Mom cups Dad's cheek and looks him in the eye. She's a lot shorter than him. "Look, love. You're a great father, and I think it's amazing that you spend time with him. But you're the only person he talks to. You know just as well as I do that he needs to talk to other kids! It's not healthy; even Teacher Perevvoxath agreed. And now he finally has a friend."
Dad sighs, running his hands through his black hair. My hair. "You really think aliens are a substitute for human interaction?"
>! "I think every human needs a person they can talk to, and Casimir found one. If you really care about him, stop preaching for a while! Your church isn't gonna die without you. It'll be okay." !<
The next day, I visit Mensim's house after school again. And the next day after that, and the next after that. His dad Ghanvati is formally named Engineer Munghazi. I am to call his moms Teacher Munghazi, Teacher Munghazi, Teacher Munghazi, Accountant Munghazi, Priestess Munghazi, Doctor Munghazi, and Maidservant Munghazi.
A couple weeks later, Mensim and I are lounging together on his couch, watching a Parimthian war movie. The main characters are fighting against the evil forces of the Imperium of Orion. Under his head capsule, Mensim is munching something called Synth-Fruit, which is imported from a faraway planet called Mryi. I eat Pop-Tarts, which I'm pretty sure are toxic to him.
"Come on, just give me one," Mensim exclaims, reaching over to steal the sweet snacks from me. "It can't be that bad!"
I lift the Pop-Tarts away from him, laughing. "Stoppit, you're attacking me! Pay attention to the movie, or I'm gonna shoot you!"
"But I just want one..."
"It's gonna poison you, and you're gonna get your weird alien throw-up all over me!"
Priestess Munghazi, the oldest of his moms, bursts into the living room, her jewellery clinking over her clerical cape.
"Your sister conveyed to me quite the disturbing piece of news, Mensim," Priestess Munghazi cries. "The father of Casimir is a priest of a most barbarous and evil perversion of the Siedi faith. Ghanvati and I spoke, and we agreed that you are not to consort with this primitive, pagan savage any longer."
I drop my crumbly Pop-Tart on the couch, confused at the sudden order.
"But Priestess Munghazi, I'm not dangerous or evil. I'm just a kid."
"Nonsense! You are dangerous; your father is a barbarian worshipper of this evil, primate paganism that is called Christianity, and a most woeful effect is begot that even self-respecting Senghavi have 'gone native,' as they say. Mensim, if you continue to consort with this native spawn, I will be impelled to inform the Siedi Court, and they may by chance see to it that he is executed!"
"W-Wait!" Mensim says, holding up the remote to pause our movie. He gets off of me, suddenly losing interest in my Pop-Tart, his vestigial forewings rising with concern. "Please, Mother. I promise he won't be any trouble."
My blood runs cold. Dad, executed? Just because what he believes in isn't "civilised" enough? Actually, I thought that Mom told him to stop preaching for a while.
Mensim scrambles to *his father's sleeping quarters, and I trail frantically after him.*
"Father," Mensim says. "Is Casimir's father's job so ghastly that he should be executed by the Siedi Court?"
"We can't just let the natives spread the same barbarous religions that they used to kill each other," Ghanvati replies, his secondary arms clasped together. "It's a threat to safe, moral society. Priestess Munghazi told me his father spreads evil and paganism. I have no reason not to trust the oldest of your mothers."
"But Casimir's my best friend! If you tell the Siedi Court about his father, I'll... I'll run away! I'll hate you!"
Distressed vibrations emanate through the floor beneath my feet; Mensim's antennae and papery forewings and hindwings go limp. Something like lilies and the earthy scent of rain fills the air.
"My dearest Mensim," Ghanvati says softly, dipping his head capsule with compassion. "I will hold off, just this once. It would be apt of you not to cause me to reconsider."
"T-thank you, Engineer Munghazi," I say, wiping my own tears. "My dad's not a bad person, I promise."
After confronting his dad, Mensim and I keep on watching movies and playing digital games. He always wins when we wrestle, but I still haven't given up (even though Priestess Munghazi always tells us to stop roughhousing).
I even bring my Lego pieces to his house. He doesn't know what Legos are, but later, in his sleeping quarters, we build together. He makes a cool-looking spaceship that he calls a "negative energy generator."
"Hey, you took all the cool black and grey pieces," I complain. "Now I can't finish my army base!"
"This is cooler than your army base," Mensim says proudly. "Father used to work in one. It uses the superposition of squeezed vacuum states to produce a field of negative energy density."
"I have no idea what that means, but that sounds really smart."
"No kidding! It's how people make wormholes and fly all the way to other stars."
"Well, my army guys could beat your negative energy-thingy. They have machine guns."
"My guys could just fly a [~million billion trillion kilometres] away, and yours can't do anything about it!"
"Then your guys are wimps. But my guys aren't. Because they're the Army!"
>! We also explore the pine forest in his backyard. Within just two more weeks, we have uncovered all sorts of interesting things, like a piece of a real human skull. One time, we found a human foot sculpted and smoothed out of stone—who would make such a thing?—and a dead metal device with the icon of a bitten-out-of apple printed on it. !<
There were also other human body parts made out of ancient stone, too: the cracked half of a man's face buried a foot deep, a muscly arm sticking out of the soil. Even a private part, which I snickered at, though Mensim seemed unfazed.
There is something else we start to do. My parents have given me "the talk," and Mensim told me that his parents gave him the Senghavi version of it. And so even as we talk and play in the woods, we experiment—because we are curious, and why should we not be?
A fragment of a memory in the forest; Mensim's raptorial forelimbs are set on my shoulders as his compound eyes look into my primate eyes, and he says, "You cannot tell anyone about this. Anyone. Absolutely no one."
I don't know how, but Priestess Munghazi learned of what we were doing, and now she expresses anger and disgust alike, her wings and antennae wild and rigid. Ghanvati is the same. Mensim and I... We're actually making them reconsider their decision not to tell the Siedi Court about my dad.
A fragment of a memory... I feel like I am in space, stranded aboard a spaceliner that has been hijacked by terrorists, its atmosphere venting amid a backdrop of violence... But I am not, I am in the forest that Mensim and I talked and played in; I am in Mensim's home, terrified as I am yelled at by Ghanvati, whose compassion no longer shines through, accompanied by Priestess Munghazi.
"By the names of the Gods, it's those false, pagan corruptions which humans have named as their religions, that are spouted by your father," Priestess Munghazi spits. I am teary-eyed and snot-nosed from guilt and embarrassment. "How horrid is the link between the state of barbarism and a most revolting and shameful propensity for bizarre and perverted behaviour!"
Then I am in my own family's living room, and the mom I love so dearly yells at me, too, but my father is quieter and only seems disappointed. This must be the first time in my life that I have felt true shame, I think; the kind that leaves you with an emptiness inside. Like the whole point of existing just vanished inside of me.
The worst part is that I cannot even lean on Mom's shoulder, because she is distressed—because she knows what will happen—
"This is all on you, Casimir!" she screeches, tears in her eyes. "All on you!"
I remember telling Priestess Munghazi that 'I'm not dangerous or evil; I'm just a kid,' but now I can't be sure anymore. I can tell I am different in the eyes of my family. They are disgusted by me.
It is my fault, after all, that Priestess Munghazi tells the Siedi Court of my father's evil, barbaric Christian teachings.
The Parimthian soldiers bring my father to the gallows. Their snow-white exoskeletons gleam under a burning sun. They have dressed him in his clerical uniform, and the camera is close enough that I can see his cross necklace.
I have been grounded in my room; still, I have a television to see the live broadcast.
Hanging works for primates and mantids alike. It happens in the Forum of Movvaeti, the venue for public events in our area, where my father is a lesser criminal compared to the native leaders and Senghavi malcontents who have dissented from Colonial Governor Nieve fe Skellth.
He is joined with seven other convicts, three humans and four Senghavi, and their crimes are read to the crowd—blasphemy, paganism, monogamy, witchcraft, seditious libel, insulting the Parimthian Crown, treason against the Parimthian Crown, and refusal to quarter Parimthian soldiers.
Why? None of this feels right. Why should my father be killed because of what he says and believes? Why can't these people be judged with fairness, rather than at the whim of some distant space emperor?
Not only have I been grounded, but I grow cold without my mother's touch. I want to hold someone's hand while watching Dad lose his life, but nobody is there. Mom brings me food, but she doesn't even look at me. Why can't she look at me? Why can't she speak to me? I just want things to be the way they used to be, when Dad would help me practise hitting a ball with a bat on the street.
I watch him turn down a caped, bejewelled priestess of the Siedi faith, who thought she could make my dad accept their Gods before his death. Before a modest crowd of humans and Senghavi alike, all eight of the convicts have their arms and legs bound with rope.
I am begging myself to turn the TV off, but I can't bring myself to. The Senghavi executioner uses some kind of hi-tech display to remove the supports from beneath the convicts' feet. My stomach flips over inside of me, a nausea of shame filling my body.
I can't deny it any longer. This is my fault—this is why my family avoids me—this is why they are disgusted by me—and Dad falls and his head jerks when the noose goes taut.
As he hangs there, I cannot tell for how long he remains alive. My insides are cold. After the broadcast ends, after night falls and I sit in the moonlight spilling faintly through my windows, that is when it all comes out. I sob alone. I scream for Mom to help me and be there for me, but she does not come. Her harsh voice resonates through my memory; this is all on me. I am a disgrace to everyone I love, and that is why they have left me here. Why they avoid me as if I am a disease.
The only thing I want is to see Dad again, but he is gone forever. I curl up on my room floor. What is this? What is this loneliness? This stinging hatred I feel against myself?
No one, human or mantid, will be there for me. I cry until my throat cannot ache any more harshly, until my eyes cannot sting any more painfully, and then I go cold inside, my body shivering in the moonlight. I retreat into my happy memories with Dad until it is too painful to bear.
I wish so dearly I could end it all, to take my own life and join Dad in the heaven that he believed in. There is a belt in my closet that I can use on myself in the way the Siedi Court killed Dad.
But beneath the sickly well of shame, the nausea and crushing humiliation at the stupid antics of Mensim and I, with which Mom's brief gaze pierces me—beneath the weight of knowing that I will never fill the torturous vacuum Dad left, knowing that I am a foul and disgusting son to the mother I so desperately need, that I see no end to the infinite river of anxiety and guilt pouring through the hole left in my heart—beneath my isolation and my longing for human touch—something breaks inside of me.
An emptiness of purpose. There is no point in going on, and I feel nothing, not even the desire to stop living. There is one exception: A hatred of myself, and of the humans I loved as family.
One day, Mom appears in my doorway, and she just stands there. Before, I would've welcomed being offered interaction with her beyond just receiving food, but now I am numb, my eyes all out of tears to cry.
"Pack your things," she says, her voice flat. She still doesn't look at me; the eyes she once said I inherited from Dad, she now shuns. "You're going to a residential school."
Indigenous Residential Schools; that is what Colonial Governor Nieve fe Skellth calls them, I think. They're for human kids who have trouble letting go of their "savage" roots; kids that the normal schools aren't enough to civilise. Schools that show you how to act Senghavi, to think Senghavi, to... be Senghavi.
There was a human kid in normal school whose sister went there, but they said that something had happened to her there; something in that residential school had changed her before she finally returned.
But I feel no fear as I pack my clothes into my bags. Every time I look in my bedroom mirror, a violent feeling rushes to my chest, only to dissipate into the hatred-tinged numbness I have grown so used to.
Finally, the time comes to depart. In the early morning, I am already aboard the autonomous public transport. It pulls out of the cracked street I once played with Dad in, passing by the entrance of Fellye Neighborhood, driving off into the fiery, violet Terran dawn. I see my faded reflection in the window, and my chest jumps with revulsion.
So I look down, fidgeting with my touchpad—then the numbness abruptly leaves, and my tears fall once again.
Forgive me for all the redaction, Doctor Morgthax. While I will not disclose what I wrote, you are correct, as always, about the act of writing. There is some semblance of psychological relief in typing one's sullen inner thoughts onto a touchpad. As if one can be heard without being heard.
By the time I drifted back to reality, my mouth and lips dry from dehydration, the hijackers had patched up the holes punched through the hull by the accidental explosion. Plenty of Senghavi passengers were spilling cerulean blood from beneath their exoskeletal coverings; though they were all alive, they needed medical attention.
Two hundred-something Senghavi civilians aboard this luxury spaceliner, and none had yet died. That stroke of luck offered me a glimmer of hope.
Pavok, the child, was emitting vibrations through the floor in his despair, the smell of rain and lilies becoming evident to me. It is starkly fascinating, the evolutionary dissimilarity between how native Terrans and Senghavi Terrans cry.
Those ships were delivering medical aid and critical provisions to the passengers, Commander Lokprel barked, the neutrino signals that encoded his gruff voice coming out from the intercom. Why did you laser them?
"Stop playing games," Jake snapped wearily into his radio. I recalled that his full name was Jacob Weaver, as Commander Lokprel had mentioned. A drop of blood streaked down his face. "We know what you're up to."
Paranoia will get you nowhere, Jacob. If we don't work with each other, you won't survive. We have detected an explosion aboard the spaceliner. Is anyone dead?
"Not yet," Jake growled. "But Fenni Svim will be if your forces keep approaching!"
Fenni Svim—the Senghavi from the Vellir Veneti Physics Lab, against whose skull Jake had pressed his pistol to halt the CDF's initial approach, hours ago—stiffened in her seat. I had never known the nuclear researcher very well before this barbarous event, but I prayed to the Gods of Siedi (whom I do not really believe in) that she would be okay.
Many of the passengers were still being kept by the windows to deter snipers. They included Pavok, behind whom Khadija stood guard.
"Sorry for attacking you," Jake suddenly said to me, his voice worn-out. "It's like Khadija said. The bugs know that humans are strong when they're united. It's why they try to play us against ourselves, to ally with just some of us, to try to make us hate each other; to hate ourselves. It's how they tore the United States apart. Everything they do... It's to make us ashamed of our species, our own culture, to lose hope in the future. If we were united, Casimir... they'd be terrified of us. And make no mistake—we're uniting again."
"E-even if what you say about mankind is true," I croaked, "Our species would not have settled anywhere but Earth. Our culture and history would still have been negligible and primitive, the richness and complexity of the Senghavi, still greater by many orders of magnitude."
"Casimir, did you go to one of the Indigenous Residential Schools?" Khadija asked.
"Y-yes," I managed, dusting off my formal wear and cleaning my glasses. "I was sent to one as a child. They are for those of us savage natives which conventional education could not sufficiently civilise."
Khadija's eyes softened with compassion, and she gestured to my wrist. "I asked because of that code on your wrist. I've heard about some of the things that happen in those places. The cruelty; the abuse."
I glanced at the abstract identification code tattooed onto my skin, faded with time. I hadn't thought about it in ages; it was but a remnant of my childhood, and I never paid it any attention.
"Residential schooling is necessary and proper," I tell her. "It is similar to human-mantid apartheid in its purpose; it keeps the public safe from savagery. "
"If we get out of this alive, I'm gonna take you with me to Russia," she said, wiping sweat from her brow. "Specifically, Moscow. It's where I lived after the fall of Türkiye. Man controls it, not the Senghavi."
I was already aware that a vast, untamed region named Zvorriu-Sai, located in Earth's northeastern quarter-sphere, is called Russia in simple-speak. A decade ago, Nieve fe Skellth had tried to civilise the hunter-gatherers who lived there, but his troops starved and froze in the snow.
It was with the multitude of planetary habitat fabricators that his army had been using that the native primates of Zvorriu-Sai constructed such cities as Moscow or Saint Petersburg.
"Russian civilization goes back over a millennium," Khadija explained. "I don't give a fuck about what the Senghavi have built on this planet; Russian architecture is my favourite, hands down. Anyway, it's the most stable and self-sufficient of the ten countries we've got left. Hard to invade, you know? It's seen better days, but the cities are nice, the economy is good. I think you'll find it's a hell of a lot less 'savage' than whatever the fuck the Parimthian Empire is doing."
To corroborate her claims, she showed me a photo from the gallery of her cracked, dusty touchpad. Before a busy canal, the waters tinted orange by a rising sun, a more relaxed version of her smiled into the camera alongside some human of the phenotype I had seen in the video of Tokyo. Looming over them was an intricate, palatial structure topped with colourful, onion-shaped domes.
"How... quaint," I replied, unsure of what to say, though it ignited dry laughter in Khadija.
"Looks like we got a communiqué from the UN," another hijacker announced, his mask still covering his face. I couldn't place his accent at all. He held up his own touchpad, displaying photos of the Colonial Governor herself—Perellanth fe Sumur—flanked by armed UN military personnel. They were clad in urban camouflage that was marred with blood. The black, plant-like extraterrestrial gazed defeatedly in the sterile lighting.
The UN had captured her! The Crown's decision to appoint a Vire as the leader of a Senghavi colony had been no small event. I was certain that after all the talk of Senghavi Terran independence, then followed by the Colonial Governor's capture, His Imperial Majesty regretted his progressivist decision.
"We... We did it!" Jake exclaimed, his voice disbelieving. "We took down Perellanth!"
You achieved nothing, Commander Lokprel retorted over the intercom. Not beyond the promotion of Benghoviu fe Prim to Acting Colonial Governor. If you kill Governor Sumur, Governor Benghoviu will become the permanent Colonial Governor as per the chain of command, and he will carry on the fine work of his predecessor.
Jake seemed to consider that situation a fair one, and he nodded to himself subtly. "Okay, sure. But if you do nothing, we'll still kill our first hostage."
What I can promise you is that Delegate Essintsya fe Baryn will submit an Act to the Forum of Delegates to recognize the sovereignty of the UN. It will be deliberated over for months, but it is your only realistic option. In return, we demand that you allow the passengers injured by one of your explosives to board CDF medical ships.
I recalled that the Forum of Delegates had voted Benghoviu fe Prim as Vice Colonial Governor just a year ago. And before even that, the Senghavi who lived on Vennec—my home continent on Earth—had popularly elected the ever-prudent Essintsya fe Baryn to the Forum. She was quite the economic liberal, as her sort was called.
Delegate Baryn's statements on the social contract between a people and their government, as well as her rejection that the Parimthian Crown ruled by divine right, had resonated deeply with me.
Jake's eyes hardened, and he turned his radio back on. "I said no games!"
There are no games here, Jacob! We only aim to preserve as much sapient life as possible. And you are out of options.
The hijacker who had shown Colonial Governor Sumur's prison photo gave Jake a withering look. "We're dragging this on, man. I don't want anyone to die."
"Don't talk to me about death, Ramiro. Not after what happened in the US."
The so-called United States of America... called Gholo Vieda in Parimthian. That region was Nieve fe Skellth's last successful conquest before he attempted to take on the vast, snowy expanses of Zvorriu-Sai. I wondered if, like Khadija's experience in Türkiye in the Niethvahi region, Jake had witnessed firsthand the cultural assimilation and political integration of Gholo Vieda into the rest of Parimthian Earth.
The conquest of Gholo Vieda and Niethvahi were the great accomplishments of Perellanth's predecessor, of course; but, in my opinion, the devotion of the (now captured) Perellanth to the causes of liberty, reason, equality, and sapientism far outshadowed anything that Nieve had done. I am certain, however, that the Parimthian Crown disagrees.
In any case, my faith in CDF Commander Lokprel loth Fonvie had not risen. Perhaps that was a good thing; otherwise, I might have regretted betraying the knowledge of antimatter research in order to elicit a more competent Parimthian intervention.
More security forces took up positions around the spaceliner, each ship split sharply into sunlight and shadow amid the black of space. The hijacker called Ramiro pointed to a series of smaller craft, which seemed to be pulling away from the luxury spaceliner. Escape pods!
"Hostages are falling through our fingers," Ramiro said. "We need to do something."
"Go to the rear," Khadija ordered. "Stop anyone else from sneaking out!"
Jake's radio crackled with the voice of someone in the cockpit. We've intercepted a neutrino transmission from the new guy, Benghoviu fe Prim. He's calling for some kind of emergency council at the highest levels in the Parimthian Empire.
I scoffed internally. The Crown would intervene for the sake of investigating all this talk of antimatter, whose alluring utility had hitherto been confined to theory and fiction. But it was doubtful that His Imperial Majesty would agree to an emergency council for the sake of his colonists' security and well-being. As (relatively) progressivist as he was in policy, he was still very much a punitive emperor, not a rewarding one.
"I told the commander to stop advancing—dammit!" Jake spat. "We're only letting medical craft get any closer. Fire at the corvettes!"
Affirmative, his radio crackled. Targets in sight.
The spaceliner's anti-collision lasers flashed against several faraway spacecraft. A succession of oxygen-fueled fires, each lasting for a [~split-second] against the vacuum of space, flared in the distance. Even so, the growing array of naval craft began to close in upon us again, surrounding the spaceliner in every dimension.
Switching again to the neutrino-connected channel, Jake gave a disgusted scowl. "Are you deaf, Commander? If your people keep getting closer, the deal is off!"
The more you fire, the closer we will get, Lokprel said. We are just making sure it is safe for the medical craft. As long as you refrain from harming them, we will not hurt you.
The hijacker in the cockpit radioed to Jake again, her voice sounding more alarmed.
We're picking up a massive object on our scanners. It's headed our way.
"How massive are we talking?" Jake asked.
It's... some kind of warship, I think. Over a hundred times our size.
"You're joking, right?"
"A Parimthian spacecraft carrier," murmured a soft, whimpery voice.
It was Fenni Svim again, her praying raptorial forelimbs tucked close in fear.
"The Imperial Parimthian Navy?" I asked. "They're really here?"
"Y-you shouldn't act surprised," Fenni said. "I know you were speaking to someone on the P-Parimthian side. You leaked our greatest secret, Casimir."
"R-right."
"What's she talking about, dude?" Khadija asked. Suspicion of betrayal lingered in her dark eyes. She had believed the lie that I was only calling a loved one when I contacted Mensim, >! who is at present an agent of Parimth!<; she had trusted me, and defended me against Jake's wrath.
I didn't answer. The very reason we needed antimatter was that the colonists' outerspace spanned but a meagre few millionths of the Parimthian Empire's total volume. I did not know what exactly a spacecraft carrier one hundred times the size of our spaceliner could do for the hostages, but it would be far more competent than the comparatively flimsy Colonial Defence Force.
Finally, after so many years of strategic modesty in the administration of the Crown's distant colony, of his Earth, as His Imperial Majesty suffered expense upon expense in countering the Imperium of Orion... Parimth had sent a warship of the Imperial Parimthian Navy, here in full force!
There was no need to inquire as to its distance; I could see it through my window. It was far enough that I could view the whole of its great form. Senghavi architecture, of course, is usually round, white, and glassy, traced with glowing accents; however, the imperial warship was boxy and shadowy black, visible only by the silhouette that it carved into the beaming sun.
Already, dozens of smaller craft—operated by some of the finest Senghavi pilots in the Milky Way—began spilling out from the spacecraft carrier, moving in the shadow of their gargantuan mothership. As even the hostage passengers became aware of its presence, the muted chatter and whimpering, which had been ambient across the aisles of the spaceliner, finally ceased.
Because of me, all of us—colonists and savages alike—were, for the first time in a decade, going to face a military intervention by Parimth itself.

Apologizes for being so late. Explanation at the bottom.
​
Maxwell stared out the small window in the war room while he waited for the generals and other officers to arrive. The dome had dimmed to the point that you could see through it, and he watched as the demonic army set up camp less than a mile from the city. When the last straggler entered and sat, the general in charge started the meeting. Why am I even here? I don’t add anything besides my fighting and base knowledge of magic. Whatever.
The meeting ended with the decision being made to defend at the wall, and only send out mounted troops when the enemy showed a weakness. Pretty standard fare for defending a city. He made his way out of the room, not stopping to chat with anyone and went for a walk in the now recovering city.
He was sitting on a park bench, randomly tossing seeds to a small flock of birds when his messaging stone started to vibrate. He removed the stone from his pocket and swiped his finger across the smooth face, “Hello?”
“Ah, the heretic. Just who I wanted to speak too.” The voice on the other end said. “I am general xxx of the demon army---”
Max ended the call, swiping across the stone again. “Idiots.” He grumbled. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”
The stone vibrated again. He answered. “WHAT?”
“The same voice as before spoke again. “We need to talk.”
“Make it fast.” Max growled. “I’m busy.”
“Very well. I want you to kill the demon lord.” Ochalz said in a level voice.
“You…You what?” Max stuttered into the stone.
“He needs to die.” Ochalz replied. “He will force me to throw my troops into your void forsaken wall. The number of unneeded deaths will be high. I need him gone.”
Mas took a deep breath to calm his nerves, “What’s in it for us?”
“Upon his death, we will cease all hostilities for a total of ten years.” Ochalz said.
“Twenty-five, no less, and you will retreat to the demon wastes.” Max responded.
“Very well. Twenty-five years.” Ochalz said, “And we will move to the aptly named demon wastes.”
“How do I know I can trust you?” Max asked.
“You don’t. But I give you my personal assurances, and all the information I have on that lard filled bastard.” Ochalz responded.
“Good enough.” Max smiled. “Tell me everything.
*-*-*
Grendel Repute sat on the back of the wagon as it progressed down the snow-covered road. What to do. What to do. He absentmindedly scratched the cat that Brandywine had left in his care when she and the others had left. “So, cat, what should we do today? No one will dice with me anymore. Especially after they finally caught me cheating.” The cat flopped onto its side and purred at him. “Maybe we should… No. Perhaps? No. What do you think?”
The cat gently captured his left hand in its paws and brought it closer to lick and nibble on.
“I suppose we could eat something, but lunch isn’t for another hour or so.” Grendel said in response to the nibbles. “Maybe we could raid the sweets jar?”
*-*-*
Max had gathered up his usual suspects in his rooms. “Demon general Ochalz has asked that we assassinate the demon lord.”
The room went silent.
“Yeah. I was surprised too.” Max said into the silence. “I have a bunch of notes here,” he waved to a stack of papers, “with all of the information Ochalz could give me.”
The next several hours were spent going over the notes.
*-*-*
Cookies in hand, Grendel sat once again on the back of the wagon, cat purring on his lap. “Okay. We have a communication stone from Prince Lancil. We have snow. We have cookies… Now what?”
“Meow” said the cat.
“Exactly.” Grendel replied.
*-*-*
Gilip, Capital of Demonia.
53rd of Anael, First month of Snow.
2290 years since the New Gods came.
We have almost a thousand miles to travel to get to the demon lord’s lair. We will be traveling the demon wastes through ice and snow. While the demons will not be “thick and heavy” due to their army being here, they will still be around. Little else thrives out there.
There is a “breed” of “Horse” that has been mostly tamed that will survive the travel, but with my track record with half demonic beasts, I worry there will be problems.
Bri has refused to stay behind, claiming that “the place of a wife is with her husband”. Who am I to argue?
The gang’s all here, we leave tomorrow at dusk.
54th of Anael.
Dusk.
The wind is cold, blowing the powdery snow across the plain as we departed. The heroes, Brandywine and Bri are all well covered in winter traveling clothes. The trunk is tied to my back.
55th of Anael,
We got five miles through the wind and snow last night. No demons were spotted. Today we should make about ten more. I keep forgetting how much I hate walking in snow, it gets everywhere.
Plains of Demonia.
1st of Arah, Second month of Snow.
2291 years since the new gods came.
Midwinter was last night, and we did not celebrate. Travel was more important. We made just over ten miles today, giving us a total of twenty-five miles. I believe it is around twenty points below freezing* as we set up camp tonight. We are all sharing one small tent to conserve heat. The wind is whipping across the gently rolling plain at speed. Tomorrow we may be snow blind.
Our current path will bring us to Ghostward, another one hundred twenty miles or so. Twelve days. We will rest for a couple nights there, and hopefully be able to procure ‘Horses’ that can deal with the weather.
3rd of Arah.
The wind and snow were too much today, we made it three miles. It is a blizzard. I hope we aren’t snow bound for too long. Only 38 miles so far.
6th of Arah.
We got nearly two feet of snow, but the wind has slowed. Tomorrow, we will dig ourselves out and continue on our way.
-
Magni stared at the snow, and smiled to himself. It’s like home. Just without the mountains. He held back a tear as he thought back to his lost home, the people, his wife and children, and then let the tears loose.
-
10th of Arah.
We continue our march. I don’t understand how Magni can smile and whistle through this. Maybe he really is part bear as Nomvula claims? I don’t know, he kind of does look like one…
Around eighty miles, halfway there. Seventy left.
13th of Arah.
Elk. A herd of elk. Being chased by a small pack of worgs. The worgs ate there fill and ignored us. I’m an idiot gods forsaken MORON! We could have ridden worgs if I hadn’t wanted to avoid the “going away” ceremony that would have been thrown for us. Too late now.
14th of Arah.
We spotted a demon patrol today. They ignored us.
*-*-*
Grendel stared at the boring snow once again. “Now what do we do, cat?”
“Mrow?” The cat replied.
“Me either.” Grendel said. “Maybe we can use Lancil’s stone and try to sell someone a bridge?”
*-*-*
Demon General Ochalz sat on his camp chair, and smiled. “The Heretic is well on his way now? Excellent. Once that worthless idiot is dead, we will make a place for ourselves in the wastes, and prepare.”
*That would be -20c, or -10f.
​
Original - First - Previous - Next
- - - - - - - -
Where to begin, where to begin?
I don't generally talk about it, but I have some mental health issues, and the last couple of months have been hard. The weather changes are tough in spring, causing my SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) to go into overdrive. The ADHA has been bouncing me around, and my Bi-Polar disorder has been at an all time low. All said and done? This has been a sucky as hell spring.
To top things off, Monday I stubbed my big toe so hard that i separated the nail from the nail bed. 0/10, do not recommend.
The high points have been being published in the anthology (thanks to everyone who backed it!!!!!) and seeing Wind Rose in concert. Even those two haven't really left much of a dent in my psyche.
Anyway, my kid is almost out of school for the year, and at least isn't failing any classes. And next weekend I will be attending a reunion for year one and two of the NCCC program (I was in year one! That was a blast!!!) and I'm looking forward to that, and the writing convention two weeks after that. Those two should break me out of this blue period.
Take care of yourselves. Don't kidnap midgets. Get the candy first. Don't drive full speed into the dust storm. Look both ways at the train crossing. Avoid the sewer clowns unless you are well armed. Giant robots will make you go squish. When the pin is pulled, Mr. Grenade is NOT your friend. Help each other out.
Donation box time.
Shakes donation box:
Ko-Fi https://ko-fi.com/vastlisten1457
Patreon https://www.patreon.com/VastListen1457
​
PS. I haven't forgotten to send out the prizes, that will be this weekend, as soon as the new merch is up. Please forgive the wait.

Continued from Pt. 1, which can be found at:
Pt 1: https://www.reddit.com/Horror_stories/comments/13wymkl/ghost_word_pt_1/
WARNING: This story contains depictions of non-consensual sex and gun violence.
---------------------------------
Lyle found himself on foot, the valise at his side, the night air crisp and noisy. He realized he was ravenous. No surprise there, he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in twenty-six hours. The late evening traffic was brisk around the campus, and as he passed a roving pack of students Lyle realized it was Thursday night*. Thirsty Thursdays*.
In keeping with ancient tradition, the majority of undergraduates avoided Friday morning classes at all costs, preferring to begin their weekend revels on Thursday nights. Lyle followed his feet. He imagined power emanating from the briefcase at his side, thrumming up his arm. He felt, for perhaps the first time in a life of shrinking uncertainty, boundless.
And it felt extraordinary.
Somewhere inside of him a notion was forming that he did not dare articulate. But he followed his feet. The easy ebb and flow of walk signals, the pleasantly cool night air, the passing chatter, even the occasional car-horn—which in the past had never failed to startle him, jittery as he was—seemed buoyant and agreeable. The night was his. He realized he was sloping gently downhill, as he followed his feet. He realized he knew exactly where he was going. He found himself before O’Flaherty’s Pub, with its sandwich-board blaring LADIES NIGHT 1/2 WELL DRINKS -- TRUST ME YOU CAN DANCE in electric pink loops. It felt only natural to step beneath the awning, swing wide the knotted mahogany door, and enter the din.
The ham-hock manning security—probably a redshirt lineman in his off-season—turned toward Lyle on autopilot, one hand reaching out as a question formed on his lips, lemme see some ID. Lyle made no attempt to reach for his wallet because he knew the inevitable would happen when the bouncer took in his face, which he did a half second later. A tiny beat of recognition flickered and was gone, and the bouncer turned away. No need to card the old dude. Good luck navigating the vicissitudes of adult life, you Mongoloid, Lyle thought. The jag off had a Black & Mild tucked up behind one ear, Lyle felt an insane urge to snatch it off his head and break it in half. He did not do well with the pretend authority of chunky, dead-eyed adolescents.
But I’m not here for him.
Lyle wove his way into the evening crush with the delicate, shuffling little steps he always used in crowds. By fits and starts he made his way deeper, deeper, winding toward the back bar, the one with the full-length mirror. That was her favorite. O’Flaherty’s had a Crosley jukebox, wood-paneled and coin-operated, reaching for vintage but stuffed to the gills with Bluetooth and wi-fi and digital memory and whatever else. A woman’s voice was booming out of it, an empty pop ballad gussied up by her big, operatic sound. Lyle tried to think of the singer’s name, but couldn’t. He squeezed into a narrow gap at the back bar.
Darby was flirting as she mixed a rum-and-coke for a gawky, dough-faced kid in a flat-cap and a Harrington jacket. On the few occasions he had come out on Darby missions, Lyle had stayed well back from the bar, waiting for drink service at one of the small cafe tables lining the billiard room. But tonight, he wasn’t here to watch.
Darby handed off the drink and caught sight of Lyle. He winced—he could read the surprise, even discomfort, on her face. But she was tending bar, and she was quick on her feet, and she rearranged her expression into a smile. She held up a finger—*one sec—*to which Lyle nodded, as she took flat-cap’s (father’s) Amex back to the register and opened up a tab.
Lyle enjoyed watching her walk. Enjoyed looking at her from the back, or in profile. He usually saw her face, in class, big brown doe eyes and very pale, freckled skin. A shade away from clear, he had heard her joke once, to James, as she had invited him to touch the roadmap of blue veins on her inner arm. That had enraged Lyle—the sudden, unwelcome image of James with those long creamy legs locked over his waist, his long, slow thrusts.
Because he restrained himself from ogling her in class, it was a pleasure to come to O’Flaherty’s during her shifts and watch her as she worked. Darby was not the first of what Lyle thought of as his “favorites”. Every year or two there was a fresh, irresistible young thing, for him to think about, alone, late at night. One of the unspoken perks of professordom was the constant influx of eye-candy, of short skirts and long legs and high asses and pert young tits. In his mind’s eye it was an endless profusion of imagined aureoles, of wondering about their panties—boy-briefs or frilly little whatsits or g-strings or none at all—and even if Lyle never slept with them there was an intense eroticism in holding power over these girls he could never have bedded in his own college years. In pushing that term paper over the failing line and waiting, deliciously waiting, for them to come to his office hour and plead. Only Darby’s work was reasonably competent, so even that grimy thrill was denied him.
Darby finished up with the register and came over, the pale of her neck stark against her tight black t-shirt. O’FLAHERTY’S was printed on it in green, the name stretched to accommodate her bust. Her hair frazzled at the temples; she’d been working hard.
Just a little dirty, that’s how I like you, he thought.
“Dr. L! We missed you today, thought maybe you caught the gunk. You all right?” Darby beamed her big smile at him, a gift of the gods (and of immaculate orthodontics).
“I’m fine, Darby, thanks. Just a communication mix-up. I’m sorry you all waited.”
She kept smiling, seemed to be waiting for more. He didn’t give it to her.
“Well—can I get you anything?”
Lyle hesitated, trying to think of a manly drink, something urbane and—professorial.
“Scotch-rocks. A double.”
Darby continued to stare at him, expectantly. “Any… particular poison, or-?”
Lyle glanced up, made a show of studying the bottles arrayed behind her. He knew nothing about scotch. Stupid. He settled on Johnnie Walker Black, and Darby poured his drink.
Lyle realized his heart was racing. Darby set the drink in front of him and he downed half of it in one swallow. He managed to keep his face neutral as the liquor seared his throat.
“This is a—little bit of a departure, for you, huh?” Darby indicated the scotch.
“What?”
She must have known he heard her but she raised her voice anyway. The music had changed to a British pop group with a lot of electronic undertones, trying to sound haunting.
“The scotch,” she said. “Don’t you always order lemon drop martinis? When you come in?”
Busted. Two bright red circles appeared high on his cheeks.
“You know, it, it depends,” he replied. “Depends on my mood. And you—you make a hell of a lemon drop martini, here.”
Fucking idiot, he thought. They make the same Goddamn lemon drop martini as everybody else and she knows it.
Darby was smooth, though. Graceful. She rolled right past it. “I wondered why you never came over and said hi.”
“Well I don’t want to, you know, be a bother. You’re working. It’s always busy. And I’ve been coming here for years, off and on. You get used to seeing students out on the town. I try to give them their space.”
“Oh.” Her smile reappeared. “Well I’m glad you came over. Let me know if I can get you anything else?” She was already angling away.
“How was class today?” Lyle didn’t want to let her go. She glanced down the bar, she had customers waiting.
“It was great, really great,” she hurried her answer. She was giving him the brush-off. “James did great. He’s an awesome teacher. Awesome guy.”
“You know, I’d been meaning to ask you, about James…” Lyle leaned in, conspiratorially. Darby’s smile was faltering, but courtesy won out and she leaned in to hear.
“Are you fucking him?”
Darby recoiled, as though he had spit on her.
“What?”
“Do you laugh at me, when you do it? When you fuck, do you laugh at the scabby, horn-dog professor?”
Darby’s breath hitched in her chest, she looked like she was about to cry. She took a step back. She looked down the bar, and then past him—toward the door.
Bouncer, he thought. She’s looking for the bouncer.
“I think you need to—” she began.
Then Lyle said the Word. The alien Word, meant to be moaned, easy as pie, really, when you thought about it, how the sounds flowed together. The Word that meant libido.
Darby froze. Her pupils flickered, Lyle saw, they constricted down to pinpricks, and then dilated as wide as they could go, swallowing the puppy-dog brown of her irises. Her face went slack. That wide, expensive smile vanished, and her mouth hung slightly open.
“Moisten your lips, Darby,” he said.
Her tongue slid out, pink and supple, and she obeyed.
Oh, my God, she OBEYED.
Lyle’s penis twitched in his pants, he realized he was painfully erect, his balls aching. He realized he had been, had been since—since I said the Word—since he had her and a cruel, savage sense of triumph shook him, he felt his pulse hammering in his veins, he felt like standing up on the bar and—
ROARING I want to ROAR at this dewy twat and all her imbecilic peers—
But instead, he took his cock firmly in his hand, through the cheap fabric of his Ross trousers, squeezed himself, and said—
“What are we going to do with you, Darby?”
#
Lyle fucked her in the alleyway behind O’Flaherty’s. That meant hurrying more than he liked, the dumpster provided cover but the blocks surrounding the campus were too well policed. It was all right, though. Now that he was armed with the libido-Word, the next time could be more leisurely.
He took her in. All of her. The small, surprisingly dark nipples, nothing like he’d imagined. The fine, black hairs on the nape of her neck, the peach fuzz of her freckled low back, her inner thighs. Her panties were white briefs with green stitching, they were covered with tiny frogs. He tugged them down, and nuzzled her there. He left hickeys, on her ass, her mons. Her smooth, exquisite young cunt.
Lyle took her from behind and saw the groggy confusion in her dilated eyes, the amazement*—*and through that the pleasure, the unsuspected, unwanted, violating pleasure that jolted moans out of her.
Lyle sucked her neck, bit it, hard enough to sting. She gave a tiny mewl as she came, and her spasm triggered him also. Lyle buried himself to the hilt in her, finished in her, and felt—
Like a king. Like a GOD.
They stayed there as the minutes stretched out, panting, still joined. He savored her, until his own tumescence vanished, and he slipped out. Lyle patted her derriere.
“Get dressed and get back to work, Darby,” he said. “We don’t want you to get in trouble.”
She jerked her head, drunkenly, from side to side, as though she were trying to shake water out of her ears. Lyle breathed deep, in through his nose, the fine scents of the city. Fried food nearby, probably the Thai joint catty-corner to the pub. He stood and admired, as Darby tugged her frog-panties back up those long pale legs.
“I’ll see you in class.”
Darby stared blankly at him as he took up his suitcase, turned, and strode into the night.
#
When Lyle opened his eyes the next morning, he was only mildly surprised to discover that he felt no guilt at all. The sun streamed in, the world was up and running, coffee was calling, and by God he felt fine.
He sat up in bed, stretched. He glanced at the alarm clock, that hateful sentinel, now toothless—10:27AM. The mattress was bare, beneath him. He’d never washed the sheets. Puddled on the floor were yesterday’s clothes. He resisted the urge to tidy them up. Later. He padded to the bathroom and went about his ablutions, brushed his teeth, took out his shaving kit. He had used the sleep-Word on himself again, last night. After.
After! He let the memories wash over him. Her smell: the tang of sweat, bar-odors, the undercurrent of peach soap. The taste of her! And then the feast, afterward. He had followed his nose to Great Elephant Thai, wolfed down a plate of kai thot, fried to a crisp and dripping oil*.* It may have been the finest meal of his life.
And he had had such dreams! Dreams of Darby, and of favorites past. Dreams of fucking and of wealth and of slights avenged and of respectful, deferential looks, dreams of voices falling silent when he entered a room, of every eye on him. A song lyric drifted into his head, something from his childhood, a favorite of his father’s one long summer, repeated ad nauseam on the fourteen-hour drive down to Savannah.
“Twenty years a’crawlin’… were bottled up in Tommy… he wasn’t holding nothin’ back, he let ‘em have it all…” Lyle sang, full voice, into the morning. A stupid grin spread over his face, as he wicked away the last patch of Barbasol, the careful spot right over his Adam’s apple, and rinsed his razor. He took a long look at Mirror-Lyle, looked into his eyes. He almost always avoided a close examination of his reflection, force of habit, but today he was a new man, and he wanted to take that man’s measure.
“Everyone… considered him… THE COWARD OOOF… the COUNTYYYY…”
Something else surfaced, then, in his memory, something that cranked the wattage down on his smile. He didn’t get all of it, just a glimpse, like a dorsal fin rising above the water. He had dreamed of more than power and sex. There had been something else. Lyle had a vague red recollection of tangled depths and faceless figures. His mind offered up a fleeting image of a crumbling stone structure, of keening wind and squat pillars; and of a great broken vault overhead, through which could be seen a blasted sky.
Lyle charged his phone as he brewed up a fresh pot. It had run out of juice somewhere during yesterday’s festivities, and when it finally powered up again it began to vibrate against the Formica tabletop in his dining nook. He ignored the first two pulses, but the phone insistently continued, not with the regular rhythm of an incoming call, but rather the inconsistent bursts of message notifications trickling in from the cloud. He tapped the touchscreen, and saw he had seven missed calls: one from a colleague, yesterday; and six from James, each one with a voicemail attached. The most recent of these had come just twenty minutes ago.
Lyle sipped on his coffee as he retrieved the briefcase from beneath his bed. He sat at his dinette and removed the fascicle, easily finding the rigid page. He opened it, and this time the new Word was waiting for him below the first, long entry: the entry corresponding to the letter “A” itself. This Word was angry, Ks and Zs, a hornet-word, serpent-word. Lyle looked to the white space, where the definition would arise. He pricked his forefinger with the tip of a steak knife and squeezed out two droplets of blood.
der zorn
Lyle sipped. Lyle thought. Greek, then Latin, now German. Was it moving forward in time? He wondered again about those first shapes he had seen, in the library. The more he tried to remember the more he doubted they had been in Greek. Something older, maybe. Phoenician syllabary? He would likely never know. But the Words were changing. The book was changing.
And there was this: both of the—*spells, they’re spells, let’s cut the shit—*both of the Words it had given him so far had been…
“Intuitive,” he said finally. “Useful. Like it knew.”
Lyle took down the last foil sleeve of blueberry Pop Tarts from his cupboard. Pauper’s breakfast, he thought, but not for much longer. He searched through his contacts until he found the number for the Chancellor’s office. He thumbed the little blue phone icon beside it.
#
Lyle had just started boxing up his things when James burst into his office, perfectly symmetrical face distorted by fury, his generous features made ugly. Ah, the righteousness of youth. James took in the dense sheaf of Staples boxes, waiting to be folded; took in the bare walls, the stacked diplomas and photographs.
“What the fuck is this?” he demanded.
“Emergency leave,” Lyle answered with a dismissive wave. “I’ve had a family crisis. I’m afraid I have to attend to it. Professor Chole will be taking over my workload for the remainder of the semester, I’m sure she’ll be in touch—"
“What did you do to Darby? What the fuck did you do?” James spoke with the husky, quaking tone of pure adrenaline. He was just barely restraining himself from lunging across the desk, Lyle realized. He took the younger man in with bemused calm. He let the moment stretch out.
“Therese called me,” James continued, the words throttling out of him. “Darby’s roommate. She came home last night, she has—bruises, all over her, little, little *bites—*she won’t speak, she just sits there and cries, but she said your name. It’s the only thing she said. What did you do to her, Lyle? Did you rape her?”
“Dr. Hereford,” Lyle replied.
James craned forward. “What?”
*“*You don’t get to call me Lyle.”
Lower, now, almost a whisper: “Tell me what you did to her.”
“I made her come,” Lyle said. “And she fucking loved it.”
James did lunge then, he screamed and he leapt across the desk, coming down on Lyle in a tangle of thrashing limbs and rabbit punches, the two of them toppling Lyle’s chair, compressing awkwardly into the tight space between desk and wall. James kicked hard off of the gray metal drawers, managing to end up on top. His hands found Lyle’s throat and began to squeeze. Lyle felt himself constricting, felt the energy draining out of him, pinned, as he lost oxygen. He noticed the curds of spittle at the corners of James’s snarling mouth. He started to see spots in the periphery of his vision, and as he slapped ineffectually at James’s face he thought am I going to die here—?
Lyle dug down for the last of his strength. The Word chose me. This wasn’t the end. Couldn’t be the end. He extended his leg as far as it would go, and used the distance to drive his knee, hard, into James’s crotch. A grunting exhale was propelled out of the younger man*.* Lyle pulled back to do it again; James squeezed his thighs together to block, and when he did, he compromised his balance. He took one hand off Lyle’s throat and thrust out his arm to catch himself as be began to roll, allowing Lyle to draw in a long, ragged breath.
Then Lyle spoke the Word.
The der zorn-Word.
The word that meant anger, that meant rage, that meant WRATH.
#
“Son. Son, you’re bleeding, let me—let me help you, come on. Son, it’s gonna be okay, come on, now— “
The campus policeman approaches James like a dog that might be rabid, that slow hunched posture with arms wide, except for the policeman it’s only one arm because his right hand is flush up against his service weapon and his thumb snaps the little thumbsnap and it’s a very small noise but it’s so loud in James’s head and he shakes it, his head, does James, from side to side, in herks and jerks, like a dog that might be rabid, now, like there’s water in his ears and he’s trying to shake it out, is James, and the policeman is coming on and speaking in clear precise syllables that explode behind James’s temples, clusterbomb-words, and the cop is speaking but he’s hearing another voice, is James, and it’s Lyle’s voice, it’s Dr. L’s voice, not Lyle never Lyle, and Dr. L’s voice is saying snakebit you’re snakebit she fucking LOVED it and James touches his own face now and it must be true because there’s blood on his face and when he blinks his blink is heavy and liquid like he just dropped Visine in there but the thing is but only but except it’s blood and he’s bleeding from the eyes, is James, and now the policeman is right on top of him saying “son what happened can you hear me respond if you can hear me” and James hears the exploding words all right and he blinks and blood oozes from the corners of his eyes and the cop is changing now, in the blood, his face is BOILING and now it’s Darby’s face on the policeman and she opens her mouth and her head cranes back and she’s ruined inside OH FUCK SHE’S RUINED INSIDE SHOT HERSELF SHE SHOT HERSELF SHE’S SHOT and now it’s DR L IT’S DR L SCREAMING SNAKEBIT SNAKEBIT SNAKEBIT—
James rears back and head-butts the campus cop as hard as he can, the smooth acne-less center of James’s forehead connecting with the soft cartilage of the policeman’s nose. A sick crunch echoes in the lobby of the Humanities building, a young woman close enough to hear it vomits on the floor, it is the first puking incident of the day but not the last.
The cop recoils with a sick moan, in his surprise clapping his hands to his shattered nose; in that moment James bellows, an awful inarticulate animal sound of hate, and yanks the policeman’s service piece free of his holster.
The handful of rubbernecking students freeze as James shoots the policeman in the face.
The policeman’s name is (was) Lou, the students know, and he is (was) genial and well-liked. A silent second passes in the lobby, and then the screaming begins.
James dips down and pulls two spare clips out of Lou’s belt. He pockets them. When James looks up, he doesn’t see fleeing students.
He sees Dr. L.
A gaggle of Dr. L’s. A school, a clutch, a murder. He sees laughing Dr. L’s running in every direction, diving behind furniture, breaking for the street or hurtling into the stairwells. One Dr. L dives behind the reception desk. James starts after him on wooden legs.
When he reaches the desk, there is Dr. L beneath it, a cell phone in his hand, cackling. James shoots him in the stomach. Dr. L keeps right on laughing, howling with it now, whatever it is must be hilarious, a real knee-slapper, then James remembers its him, Dr. L is laughing at him so James shoots him again, shoots him so he’ll stop but there are so many more—
#
Lyle Hereford, Ph.D., rested his browning forearms on the wrought iron railing of his third-floor balcony. He looked out over the Gulf of Mexico. The breeze was warm and gentle, suffusing, but it no longer calmed him. He took no notice of it. He was lost, as he was always now lost, in thought.
The one, lone thought.
It had taken a little less than two weeks for James’s horrific shooting spree to drop out of the news. The demands for GUN CONTROL NOW (or, conversely, for guns in every classroom) receded and were shelved for the next go-round. Politicians took to the field and unfurled their heraldry for the usual pro-forma skirmishes. Then, mercifully, a Cabinet official fucked somebody he really shouldn’t have and the national discourse (such as it was) barreled off, like a dog chasing a ball that its owner had only pretended to throw. As to why a handsome, popular, well-adjusted student should suddenly snap and murder sixteen of his fellows? The theories ranged from medically reasonable (an inoperable tumor which could not be verified via autopsy, as James’s brains had been removed by the responding tactical unit); to the paranoiac (James had been the subject of a Manchurian Candidate-style CIA/NSA/Acronym-of-your-choice experiment gone horribly wrong); to the Occult (the Devil made him do it).
Lyle had enjoyed that last one.
What Lyle had not enjoyed was that some of the conspiracy theorists, and even some of the legitimate press, had mentioned him by name. He had disappeared, after all, on an auspicious and chaotic day, to manage a crisis no one could verify involving a family no one could find. It had not been difficult to remain ahead of any enterprising investigators, though. Not with the Words.
And there had been so many more Words. Words in French and Finnish and Russian and Spanish and Mandarin. Words that meant envy and silence and fear and blindness and, perhaps the most potent yet, a Word that meant stupid. Lyle had employed that one against a statie who pulled him over as he crossed the Louisiana line, coming through Vicksburg. The guy had been six-two, maybe two-twenty, with sharp, curious eyes sunk deep in his skull. Lyle hadn’t liked the way he had looked at him, so he used the Word. Now the statie—*Edmonds was his name, Trooper Edmonds—*was six-two, two-twenty of drooling simpleton, probably staring at a wall somewhere in the nearest brain injury ward and driving the resident neurologists absolutely bugshit.
By the time Lyle made it to a quiet, lazy town on the Cajun Riviera and decided to set a spell, he had traded in his Acura for a Beemer and was carrying close to a hundred and twelve thousand dollars in cash. He had also acquired a 9mm Ruger and a shotgun with a pistol grip (the dealer had called it a snake charmer just before Lyle killed him).
None of that matters now, though.
All that mattered was the Word. Which, he had come to realize, was the last Word.
Because the book was alive, of course, had always been alive, Lyle knew that. Hadn’t let himself come right out and say it, but he knew. It had slept, maybe, possibly, until he woke it, with his touch, with his blood, but if it slept, it woke up thirsty*.* The book was always ready with the next Word, the next thing he would need. The book was collaborating with him. It was dancing with him, and at first he had thought he was the one leading, but now he knew better.
Lyle felt it. Felt it—pulling on him. All the time. Felt it in the room behind him, pulling, knew that he would go back in, sooner or later, go back in, and open the book, the book that has been leading him. Knew that he would open its hundreds of pages, because it was longer now, because it had grown, because it was three inches thick and the front plating had vanished and it wasn’t pretending to be a dictionary anymore.
He knew that he would open it and on every single page, centered, would be a single Word, the last Word, the Word that he will say, that he must say, sooner or later, and under it swirling in blood, blood that must be the book’s own, the final explication, the final command, the final meaning, and God, oh God, Lyle was afraid, because the last Word was
DOOR

FT: England U20 1-2 Italy U20

England U20 scorers: Alfie Devine (24')
Italy U20 scorers: Tommaso Baldanzi (8'), Cesare Casadei (87' PEN)
Venue: Diego Armando Maradona
Auto-refreshing reddit comments link
LINE-UPS
England U20
Matthew Cox, Ronnie Edwards, Bashir Humphreys (Callum Doyle), Jarell Quansah (Liam Delap), Carney Chukwuemeka, Alex Scott, Harvey Vale (Samuel Edozie), Brooke Norton-Cuffy (Daniel Oyegoke), Dane Scarlett, Mateo Joseph (Darko Gyabi), Alfie Devine.
Subs: Imari Samuels, James Beadle, Daniel Jebbison, Teddy Sharman-Lowe, Xavier Simons.
^{____________________________}
Italy U20
Sebastiano Desplanches, Alessandro Fontanarosa, Gabriele Guarino, Riccardo Turicchia, Mattia Zanotti, Giuseppe Ambrosino (Daniele Montevago), Giacomo Faticanti, Tommaso Baldanzi (Samuel Giovane), Cesare Casadei, Matteo Prati, Francesco Esposito (Filippo Fiumanò).
Subs: Niccolò Pisilli, Luca Lipani, Gioele Zacchi, Simone Pafundi, Jacopo Sassi, Duccio Degli Innocenti.
MATCH EVENTS via ESPN
8' Goal! England U20 0, Italy U20 1. Tommaso Baldanzi (Italy U20) left footed shot from the centre of the box to the bottom right corner. Assisted by Giuseppe Ambrosino with a through ball.
24' Goal! England U20 1, Italy U20 1. Alfie Devine (England U20) right footed shot from the centre of the box to the top left corner. Assisted by Dane Scarlett with a cross.
52' Alessandro Fontanarosa (Italy U20) is shown the yellow card.
62' Substitution, England U20. Daniel Oyegoke replaces Brooke Norton-Cuffy.
63' Substitution, England U20. Darko Gyabi replaces Mateo Joseph Fernández.
74' Substitution, Italy U20. Daniele Montevago replaces Giuseppe Ambrosino.
86' Jarell Quansah (England U20) is shown the yellow card for hand ball.
87' Goal! England U20 1, Italy U20 2. Cesare Casadei (Italy U20) converts the penalty with a right footed shot to the top left corner.
90'+2' Substitution, Italy U20. Filippo Fiumanò replaces Francesco Esposito.
90'+3' Substitution, Italy U20. Samuel Giovane replaces Tommaso Baldanzi.
90'+7' Substitution, England U20. Liam Delap replaces Jarell Quansah.
90'+8' Substitution, England U20. Samuel Edozie replaces Harvey Vale.
90'+8' Substitution, England U20. Callum Doyle replaces Bashir Humphreys.
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FT: Argentina U20 0-2 Nigeria U20

Nigeria U20 scorers: Ibrahim Muhammad (61'), Rilwanu Sarki (90'+1')
Venue: San Juan del Bicentenario
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LINE-UPS
Argentina U20
Federico Gomes, Diego Gomez, Tomás Avilés (Ignacio Maestro Puch), Valentín Barco, Agustín Giay, Valentin Carboni (Gino Infantino), Federico Redondo, Mateo Tanlongo, Alejo Veliz, Luka Romero, Brian Aguirre (Juan Gauto).
Subs: Lucas Lavagnino, Ignacio Miramon, Máximo Perrone, Matìas Soulè, Lautaro Di Lollo, Nicolás Cláa, Román Vega.
^{____________________________}
Nigeria U20
Chijioke Aniagboso, Abel Ogwuche, Benjamin Fredrick, Solomon Agbalaka, Daniel Bameyi, Daniel Daga, Tochukwu Nadi (Joshua John), Samson Lawal (Kahinde Ibrahim), Salim Lawal (Umeh Emmanuel), Jude Sunday (Rilwanu Sarki), Ibrahim Muhammad (Victor Eletu).
Subs: Nathaniel Nwosu, Israel Domingo, Ibrahim Abdullahi, Augustine Njoku, John Utoblo.
MATCH EVENTS via ESPN
45'+1' Federico Redondo (Argentina U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
57' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Rilwanu Sarki replaces Jude Sunday.
57' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Umeh Emmanuel replaces Salim Lawal.
61' Goal! Argentina U20 0, Nigeria U20 1. Ibrahim Muhammad (Nigeria U20) left footed shot from the centre of the box to the bottom right corner. Assisted by Umeh Emmanuel with a through ball.
65' Substitution, Argentina U20. Juan Gauto replaces Brian Aguirre.
75' Substitution, Argentina U20. Ignacio Maestro Puch replaces Tomás Avilés.
75' Substitution, Argentina U20. Gino Infantino replaces Valentín Carboni.
79' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Victor Eletu replaces Ibrahim Muhammad.
90'+1' Goal! Argentina U20 0, Nigeria U20 2. Rilwanu Sarki (Nigeria U20) header from the centre of the box to the centre of the goal. Assisted by Victor Eletu.
90'+3' Gino Infantino (Argentina U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
90'+4' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Joshua John replaces Tochukwu Nadi.
90'+4' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Kehinde Ibrahim replaces Samson Lawal.
90'+8' Valentín Gómez (Argentina U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
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FT: Argentina U20 0-2 Nigeria U20

Nigeria U20 scorers: Ibrahim Muhammad (61'), Rilwanu Sarki (90'+1')
Venue: San Juan del Bicentenario
Auto-refreshing reddit comments link
LINE-UPS
Argentina U20
Federico Gomes, Diego Gomez, Tomás Avilés (Ignacio Maestro Puch), Valentín Barco, Agustín Giay, Valentin Carboni (Gino Infantino), Federico Redondo, Mateo Tanlongo, Alejo Veliz, Luka Romero, Brian Aguirre (Juan Gauto).
Subs: Lucas Lavagnino, Ignacio Miramon, Máximo Perrone, Matìas Soulè, Lautaro Di Lollo, Nicolás Cláa, Román Vega.
^{____________________________}
Nigeria U20
Chijioke Aniagboso, Abel Ogwuche, Benjamin Fredrick, Solomon Agbalaka, Daniel Bameyi, Daniel Daga, Tochukwu Nadi (Joshua John), Samson Lawal (Kahinde Ibrahim), Salim Lawal (Umeh Emmanuel), Jude Sunday (Rilwanu Sarki), Ibrahim Muhammad (Victor Eletu).
Subs: Nathaniel Nwosu, Israel Domingo, Ibrahim Abdullahi, Augustine Njoku, John Utoblo.
MATCH EVENTS via ESPN
45'+1' Federico Redondo (Argentina U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
57' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Rilwanu Sarki replaces Jude Sunday.
57' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Umeh Emmanuel replaces Salim Lawal.
61' Goal! Argentina U20 0, Nigeria U20 1. Ibrahim Muhammad (Nigeria U20) left footed shot from the centre of the box to the bottom right corner. Assisted by Umeh Emmanuel with a through ball.
65' Substitution, Argentina U20. Juan Gauto replaces Brian Aguirre.
75' Substitution, Argentina U20. Ignacio Maestro Puch replaces Tomás Avilés.
75' Substitution, Argentina U20. Gino Infantino replaces Valentín Carboni.
79' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Victor Eletu replaces Ibrahim Muhammad.
90'+1' Goal! Argentina U20 0, Nigeria U20 2. Rilwanu Sarki (Nigeria U20) header from the centre of the box to the centre of the goal. Assisted by Victor Eletu.
90'+3' Gino Infantino (Argentina U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
90'+4' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Joshua John replaces Tochukwu Nadi.
90'+4' Substitution, Nigeria U20. Kehinde Ibrahim replaces Samson Lawal.
90'+8' Valentín Gómez (Argentina U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
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Discussion Place for Shooting Stars (Kick A Goal) EP95 - GT (group B #2) v AC (group A #1)
Knock-out Playoffs: Game 01 - Giants vs. Actionista
Players, their teams, managers and their IG's PART 1
Players, their teams, managers and their IG's PART 2
Thanks to u/M3rc_Nate
please use >!text to hide/spoilers!< to hide any spoilers for at least the first couple of days. However, expect not everyone will follow; so SPOILERS will be discussed.
Press Conference: with Lee YoungJin, Baek JiHoon (Coach), Oh BeomSeok (Coach), and Lee HyunYi
ChallengeLeague 3.0 - GROUP C

TEAM	Played	WINS	LOSSES	Goal Diff.	Scored	Against
NFa	3	2	1	+0	4	4
SFb	3	2	1	+0	2	2
WW	3	1	2	+1	2	1
BDy	3	1	2	-1	2	3

BD = BallaDream
NF = NatFam
SF = StreamingFighter
WW = WonderWoman
^a = automatic promotion to SuperLeague
^b = possible promotion to SuperLeague, knock-out game vs. the winner of 5th/6th seed in SL (GV or TG)
^y = suspended from all League play
SuperLeague 4.0 - GROUP A

TEAM	Played	WINS	LOSSES	Goal Diff.	Scored	Against
AC	2	1	1	+1	6	5
FM	2	1	1	+0	3	3
TGx	2	1	1	-1	3	4

^x = eliminated from knock-out playoffs, will play one game vs. bottom rank of Group B to find out 5th and 6th seeding
AC = Actionista
FM = FireMoths
TG = TopGirl
SuperLeague 4.0 - GROUP B

TEAM	Played	WINS	LOSSES	Goal Diff.	Scored	Against
WC	2	1	1	+2	6	4
GT	2	1	1	+0	3	3
GVx	2	1	1	-2	5	7

^x = eliminated from knock-out playoffs, will play one game vs. bottom rank of Group A to find out 5th and 6th seeding
GT = Giants
GV = Gaevengers
WC = World Class
Total Goals Leader (from both Challenge and Super Leagues)

Rank	Player	Team	Goals (versus)	Games Played
1	Hwang HeeJung	NF	3(SF 1, BD 2)	3
T2	Lee YoungJin	AC	2(TG 2)	2
T2	Kim BoKyung	TG	2(AC 2)	2
T2	Lee HyeJeong	AC	2(FM 2)	2
T2	Lee HyunYi	GT	2(GV 2)	2
T2	SaoRi	WC	2(GT 1-pk, GV 1)	2
T3	SeoMoon Tak	BD	1(NF 1)	3
T3	YuBin	TG	1(AC 1)	2
T3	Jeong HeIn	AC	1(TG 1)	2
T3	Song HaeNa	GT	1(GV 1)	2
T3	SeoGi	BD	1(WW 1)	3
T3	EuDDeum	SF	1(NF 1)	3
T3	Kim MinJi	NF	1(SF 1)	3
T3	Naty	WC	1(GV 1)	2
T3	Lee EunHyung	GV	1(WC 1)	2
T3	Kim SeungHye	GV	1(WC 1)	2
T3	Kim MinKyung	GV	1(WC 1)	2
T3	Hong SooAh	FM	1(AC 1)	2
T3	Eva	WC	1(GT 1)	2
T3	Kim GaYoung	WW	1(NF 1)	3
T3	Kim SeolHee	WW	1(NF 1)	3
T3	Park SunYoung	FM	1(TG 1)	2
T3	Ahn YeWon	SF	1(BD 1)	3

GAME STARTING ROSTERS
GT with coach Oh BeomSeok

no.	Player	TEAM
100	Lee HyunYi (C)	F
7	Song HaeNa	D
21	Jin JeongSun	GK
18	Kim JinKyung	F
66	Cha SeoRin	(SUB)
1	Heo KyungHee	D

2-2 formation
AC with coach Baek JiHoon

no.	Player	TEAM
02	Lee YoungJin (C)	D
33	Lee HyeJeong	F
11	Moon JiIn	F
8	Jeong HeIn	M
250	Lee ChaeYoung	GK
1	Park HaNa	(SUB)

2-1-1 formation
DO NOT READ THE BELOW SPOILERS unless you really want to be spoiled of the game highlights.
Highlights:~1' AC Miss: (AC 11) and (AC 8) strip the ball from (GT 100), (AC 11) kicks a short pass to the middle for (AC 33) who one-time short back passes to (AC 02), she surveys the field and dribbles down the right wing beating (GT 27), (AC 02) kicks a forward pass down the right wing for (AC 33) who traps the ball and back passes to (AC 8) around the centre circle, (AC 8) takes a deep one-time bouncy rolling shot on target that (GT 21- GK) smothers, i nice set of passes and a shot on target by AC
Highlights:~2' AC Miss: (AC 8) takes a sideline kick-in deep in AC territory with a shot on target that is bouncy, (GT 21- GK) gets in front of the ball attempting to catch it, but hits her knee and goes out for a corner kick
Highlights:~2' AC Miss: (AC 8) takes a low lobbing shot on target deep in her defensive territory that (GT 21- GK) tracks down and follows and pushes the ball out of bounds for a corner kick
Highlights:~3' AC Miss: (AC 8) takes a sideline kick-in with a power low roller shot on target that goes in the net, however, there is no other incidental contact or touch from any field player that the goal is no good
Highlights:~3' AC Miss: (AC 8) takes a sideline kick-in with a power low roller shot on near the goal mouth that (AC 33) botches the first touch but manages to get a back heel kick shot on target, that (GT 1) manages to block, the ball goes out of bounds for a corner kick
Highlights:~4' GT Miss: (GT 27) takes a corner kick with a delicious perfect cross pass to the top of the 16 yard box that (GT 100) one-time shoots on target that is placed low and in the middle, (AC 250- GK) gets her left foot on the ball to re-direct it out of bounds for a corner kick, what a great pass, shot, and save
Highlights:~4' GT Miss: (GT 27) takes a corner kick with a low roller to the goal mouth area that (AC 33) manages to cut off and trap, she is being rushed by everyone collapsing on her position that she poke kicks the ball forward, (GT 1) gets to the ball first and takes a one-time shot on net that is way off target
Highlights:~4' GT Miss: (GT 27) takes a corner kick with a low roller to the goal mouth area that (AC 33) manages to cut off and trap, she is being rushed by everyone collapsing on her position that she poke kicks the ball forward, (GT 1) gets to the ball first and takes a one-time shot on net that is way off target
Highlights:~5' GT Miss: (AC 250- GK) tosses the ball deep to (AC 11) but she botches the first touch and (GT 1) takes the ball, with a great cut move she dekes out (AC 8) and dribbles down the right wing, she kicks a great cross pass that goes through (AC 33) but holy smokes NO ONE from GT was expecting the cross pass both (GT 27) and (GT 100) were a step behind and flat footed on a great cross
Highlights:~6' AC Foul: (AC 02) and (GT 27) go for a 50/50 air ball, (AC 02) pushes (GT 27) out of the way and is whistled for a foul, a direct free-kick is awarded on the left wing side at the centre line
Highlights:~6' GT Miss: (GT 27) takes direct free kick with a shot on target that is blocked by (AC 8) the ball goes to the wing and (GT 100) and (AC 8) battle for the ball, (GT 100) manages to control the ball and kick an outlet pass to the opposite wing to (GT 7) who traps the ball and takes a shot on target that is aimed for the near side bottom right corner, (AC 250- GK) is well positioned and manages to smother the ball
Highlights:~7' GT Skills: (GT 1) gets a side jumping header to keep the ball on the offensive zone, the ball dropped to (AC 02) who kicks it out and goes out of bounds to the sidelines
Highlights:~7' AC Miss: (AC 02) kicks the ball forward and it manages to reach a deep positioned (AC 11), (GT 21- GK) comes off her goal line to contest the ball and kicks it out of bounds towards the sidelines before (AC 11) can take a shot or control the ball
Highlights:~7' GT unexpected Skills: (GT 7) totally misses a bouncy ball and it rolls towards GT defensive end into the corner, (GT 21- GK) kicks the most unexpected and technically beautiful forward rolling pass down the wing for (GT 100) to receive, the play ends with no shot on net for GT
Highlights:~8' AC Miss: (AC 8) takes a sideline kick-in with a power shot that is blocked by the GT wall of (GT 27), the ball bounces back to (AC 8) who takes the ball and dribbles down the right wing side and manages to take a shot on net that misses the near side post by a few feet, (GT 21- GK) was well positioned to cut the angles
Highlights:~8' GT Foul: (AC 33) and (GT 27) battle for a loose ball, looks like (GT 27) grabs the hand of (AC 33) who falls down to draw the foul, whistle blows in her favour, a direct free-kick is awarded in AC territory on the left wing side
Highlights:~8' AC GOAL: (AC 8) takes the direct free kick with a cross pass to the opposite wing side for (AC 02), she beats (GT 100) with a self pass forward down the right wing and chases it down with a shot on target that is aimed for the far side bottom left corner that stuns everyone, (GT 21- GK) should have had this shot blocked, nothing special other than its spontaneous nature, the shot went through TWO GT defenders, so it was a very well placed shot on target that missed defenders, (AC 11) was well positioned to get any big rebounds, great AC goal
Highlights:~9' AC Miss: (GT 1) heads the ball forward with a light tap that (AC 02) kicks forward back into GT territory, (AC 11) is wide open but the ball is too deep, (GT 21- GK) comes off her line and gets to the ball and bodies it, wisely not using her hands as she is positioned outside of the 16yard box, the ball still loose but is eventually out of bounds on the sidelines by AC, (AC 11) subs off for **(AC 1)
Highlights:~9' GT Miss: (AC 1) tries to clear the ball forward but (GT 7) steps in front of the ball and re-directs it deep into AC right wing corner that (GT 100) tracks down, she slows the pace down and controls the ball a bit with (AC 8) on her back, she kicks a back pass to (GT 7) who one-time kicks the ball that goes to the left wing side where (GT 27) is all alone. (GT 27) gets a one-time volley shot on target but HOLY SHIT (AC 250- GK) had her left hand stuck out and it hits her hand and drops in the front of both (AC 250- GK) and (GT 27), (AC 250- GK) instantly drops down and smothers the ball. WHAT A SAVE!!! i thought this shot from last week's previews was 100% a goal lolol, it was a huge save, ULTRA INSTINCT save!!!!!
HALFTIME SCORE LINE: ------- GT 0 - 1 AC------------, both teams are playing hard, with both getting offensive chances, it's just a matter of finishing their chances with a goal
Highlights:~10' GT Miss: (GT 1) takes the centreline kick-in with a shot on net that misses the target to the right by a few feet, GT needs to build up plays in AC territory and not lose the ball with a deep shot...
Highlights:~10' GT Miss: (GT 1) steals the ball from (AC 33) and dribbles down the left wing side being pursued by (AC 02 she kicks a beautiful rolling cross to a wide open (GT 100) who traps the ball (WHY NOT ONE-TIME IT!!) and slows down the play with AC defenders frantically chasing the ball, she kicks a rolling pass to the opposite wing for (GT 1) to take a shot on target that is aimed for the near side bottom left corner that (AC 250- GK) manages to get her right hand on and the ball goes out of bounds for a corner kick, HYUNYI YAH! you just wasted a glorious one-time shot on target, and I know you can blast those with some accuracy and a whole lot of power, upon the many replays, it looks like HyunYi decided correctly as the ball was too close to her feet to manage a good shot on target
Highlights:~11' GT Miss: (GT 27) takes a corner kick with a low roller to the goal mouth area that (AC 11) re-directs on her own net, (AC 250- GK) has her eyes on the ball throughout and manages to smother the re-direction, AC was man-marking both (GT 7) and (GT 100) heavily that none of them could get free to be a pass option, GT need to start thinking of scoring the tying goal
Highlights:~11' GT GOAL: (GT 27) takes a corner kick with a low roller to top of the 16yard box area, (GT 100) and (GT 7) stayed put near the left wing side at the behest of Coach BeomSeok's yelling to stay still, Coach BeomSeok calls go as the pass is kicked and (GT 7) breaks free from the suffocating man-marking of (AC 02) and (AC 33) by using (GT 100) as a pick and cuts towards the middle, (GT 7) takes a power one-time shot on target aimed centre and high and beats (AC 250- GK) by going between her arms trying to block it, what a beauty set piece, great pass, great shot, and great movement
Highlights:~12' AC Miss: (AC 250- GK) drops the ball for (AC 02) who kicks the ball forward to the left wing for (AC 11) who loses the ball to (GT 7) who kicks the ball forward that (AC 8) traps and kicks back to the left wing side for (AC 11), this time she keeps ball control but is marked tight by (GT 7) so she back passes to (AC 02), who kicks a deep pass down the right wing for (AC 33) who traps it on the sideline and kicks a cross pass for (AC 8) who one-time power shoots the ball on target to the wide side mid right area that (GT 21- GK) punches out towards the opposite wing where (AC 11) is all alone, she manages to botch the first touch insofar that the ball went right back to (GT 21- GK) who smothered the ball, great ball movement and passing
Highlights:~13' AC Miss: (GT 7) takes a sideline kick in with a pass towards the middle that goes weakly to no one, (AC 33) cuts the ball off and dribbles to the center circle, leaving the ball for (AC 8) to continue the offensive push, (AC 8) slows down and gathers the ball, with no GT defender near her, she sets up for a deep power shot aimed for the bottom left corner that is on target but (GT 21- GK) lunges over and blocks the ball with her right thigh, a huge rebound goes up in the air and (AC 11) gets her head on the ball but the re-direction is way off the mark and goes out of bounds for a goal kick
Highlights:~14' GT Miss: (GT 21- GK) kicks the ball deep into AC territory that (GT 100) tracks down near the right wing corner, dribbling back to her end to evade (AC 02) she kicks a short pass to the middle for (GT 1) who traps the ball and then taps the ball forward to evade both (AC 02) and (AC 8) and she runs between them to chase the ball down, she gets to the ball and takes a shot on net that is aimed for the near side bottom right corner and misses by a few feet, (AC 250- GK) was in position to save the ball
Highlights:~15' AC GOAL: (AC 8) takes a sideline kick-in with a low cross near the goal mouth area that (AC 11) beats her defensive mark and manages to get a one-time right footed re-direction that goes to the bottom left corner for a goal, (AC 11)'s first league goal and a great re-direction with pace and accuracy at that
Highlights:~15' GT Miss: (GT 21- GK) throws a deep ball that bounces and (GT 100) chases down the right wing side, she takes a shot on net that misses the near side post by a few feet, looks like (AC 02) is getting a bit tired and limpy
Highlights:~16' AC GOAL: (GT 27) saves a ball from going out of bounds on the sidelines, she kicks a hard pass to the middle that (GT 100) botches the first touch and (AC 8) steals the ball and runs between (GT 7) and (GT 100) now dribbling towards the left wing and now changing direction moving forward she is a step ahead of (GT 100) who is trying to catch up, (AC 8) lays the perfectly placed soft shot to the wide side bottom right corner for a goal, GT down 2 goals with 4 minutes left, can they do it?, (AC 1) subs on for (AC 02) who needs to rest her strained calf muscles on the sidelines
Highlights:~17' GT Miss: (GT 27) takes a sideline kick-in near the centreline with a lobbing shot on target that bounces in front of (AC 250- GK) who misses it and the ball hits the right post!!!, the rebound bounces towards the goal mouth area where (GT 100) sticks out her leg to get a re-direction on net but (AC 11) is there to block the ball with her stomach and kicks the ball out of bounds towards the sidelines
Highlights:~17' GT Miss: (GT 1) takes a sideline kick-in with a power shot on target that is fully blocked by AC wall (AC 11) the ball goes back to (GT 1) who corrals the ball and kicks a fast and low cross to the top of the 16yard box, (GT 100) is there but doesn't manage a shot or a trap, the ball continues out of bounds to the opposite wing, a wasted chance, and time is ticking
Highlights:~18' GT Miss: (GT 27) takes a sideline kick-in with a power shot on target that is near the centerline moreso in GT territory, the ball is high and was a set up for a heading attempt for (GT 1) but the ball goes into the net with no other contact and is ruled no goal, a great shot, but not the timed to shoot like that on target
Highlights:~18' AC GOAL: (AC 33) stops (GT 27) from dribbling down the left wing with a strong ball stop that rebounds into GT territory (GT 7) is there to gather the ball but she mis-steps and falls straight down to the ground (AC 33) takes advantage of the mistake and charges to the ball and dribbles forward with (GT 7) and (GT 1) converging onto (AC 33), (GT 21- GK) also moves off her goal line to cover the angles, (AC 33) takes a shot on target that squirts by all the GT players and rolls to the goal mouth area where (AC 1) is all alone and she takes a shot on the wide open net, (AC 1) gets her first league goal in a good display of running to the open lane rather than chasing after a ball that her teammate is in control of. Looks like GT will have a very difficult time for a tie score. Cannot blame (GT 21- GK), she played it well, AC just played it better, (AC 33) subs off and (AC 02) enters the game
Highlights:~18' GT & AC Sub: (GT 7) subs off, (GT 66) enters the game, first sub for GT in the game, (AC 02) subs off for (AC 33) to enter the game
FINAL SCORE LINE: ------- GT 1 - 4 AC------------------------, ChaeYoung comes up big for AC in net, JeeIn gets her first goal, HaNa gets her first goal, great showing from AC, GT lost their focus, again HaeNa is the enigma, she gets goals but her first touch is terrible and she managed to messed up her footwork to cede that 4th goal. JeongSun was strong in net just the scoreline makes her look worse, her decision making from leaving her goal line is good, HyunYi was off her game.
PREVIEWS: FM v WC, WC looks strong, Naori combo having some chemistry, SoYeon outmuscling WC defense and that last shot in the previews looks like a goal, so most likely isn't hahaha

I’ve been trying to shift through the LD method and believe I may have come up with a new method to try, besides using portals.
I was originally inspired by a post in this sub by u/SherbertInevitable28 who made a post about treating your subconscious like a computer terminal. He explained that your subconscious is “like a computer that runs programs in the background- your subconscious beliefs-“ and how you can imagine running a command in your head like ShiftEasily.exe and imagine your brain running the command like how a computer would. I resonated with this but he proposed it as an awake method and thinking that wouldn’t work for me I saved the post but then forgot about it.
Until two nights ago when I saw a comment under a post in the lucid dreaming sub where a guy said that the dumbest thing he ever did in a lucid dream was summon a computer and run the command WakeUp.exe and was surprised when he actually woke up from the dream, immediately after.
I suddenly remembered that post about how your subconscious is a computer and thought, if this guy ran a command to wake up from his dream and it worked, why shouldn’t it work to wake up in another reality? And so I present:
THE RUN COMMAND DIALOG METHOD
STEPS

1. Once in a stable lucid dream, summon a desktop windows computer to appear behind you (or any computer you’d like)
2. Right click the windows icon then select “run” from the drop-down options box
3. In the box that appears type your command Ex: WakeUpInWR.exe
4. Affirm that when you press enter you will wake up in that reality, a physical tangible reality that’s not your CR or another dream
5. Press enter!
   credit to u/SherbertInevitable28 for making the post ab the subconscious If I hadn’t seen that post weeks ago I wouldn’t have connected the dots to make this LD method when I saw that comment In the LD sub
   

The video I used to see what running a command looks like
https://youtu.be/y_JkD2p11aE

FT: Brazil U20 4-1 Tunisia U20

Brazil U20 scorers: Marcos Leonardo (11' PEN), Andrey Santos (31', 90'+10'), Matheus Martins (90'+1')
Tunisia U20 scorers: Mahmoud Ghorbel (90'+13')
Venue: Diego Armando Maradona
Auto-refreshing reddit comments link
LINE-UPS
Brazil U20
Kaique, Robert Renan, Jean Pedroso, Kaiki (Douglas Mendes), Arthur, Andrey Santos, Marquinhos (Giovane), Marlon Gomes, Marcos Leonardo (Matheus Martins), Biro (Ronald Falkoski), Sávio (André).
Subs: Matheus Nascimento, Kevin, Kauã Morais, Giovani, Mycael.
^{____________________________}
Tunisia U20
Dries Arfaoui, Rayed Bouchniba, Ali Saoudi, Mahmoud Ghorbel, Samy Chouchane (Youssef Snana), Mohamed Derbali, Karim El Abed, Yassine Dridi (Jibril Othman), Chaïm El Djebali, Béchir Yacoub (Raki Aouani), Mohamed Dhaoui.
Subs: Baraket El Hmidi, Zinedine Sassi, Thomas Zouaghi, Raed Gazzeh, Malek Mehri.
MATCH EVENTS via ESPN
11' Goal! Brazil U20 1, Tunisia U20 0. Marcos Leonardo (Brazil U20) converts the penalty with a right footed shot to the centre of the goal.
31' Goal! Brazil U20 2, Tunisia U20 0. Andrey Santos (Brazil U20) right footed shot from the centre of the box to the bottom left corner. Assisted by Marcos Leonardo with a through ball.
45' Robert Renan (Brazil U20) is shown the red card.
45'+5' Marcos Leonardo (Brazil U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
45' Substitution, Brazil U20. Douglas Mendes replaces Kaiki.
61' Mahmoud Ghorbel (Tunisia U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
61' Substitution, Tunisia U20. Raki Aouani replaces Béchir Yacoub.
67' Substitution, Brazil U20. Matheus Martins replaces Marcos Leonardo.
67' Substitution, Brazil U20. André replaces Sávio.
67' Substitution, Tunisia U20. Jibril Othman replaces Yassine Dridi.
75' Arthur (Brazil U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
76' Mohamed Derbali (Tunisia U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
82' Mohamed Dhaoui (Tunisia U20) is shown the yellow card.
84' Samy Chouchane (Tunisia U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
84' Marlon Gomes (Brazil U20) is shown the yellow card.
85' Substitution, Tunisia U20. Youssef Snana replaces Samy Chouchane.
85' Substitution, Brazil U20. Giovane replaces Marquinhos.
90'+1' Goal! Brazil U20 3, Tunisia U20 0. Matheus Martins (Brazil U20) right footed shot from the left side of the six yard box to the bottom left corner. Assisted by Marlon Gomes following a fast break.
90'+3' Substitution, Brazil U20. Ronald Falkoski replaces Biro.
90'+8' Chaïm El Djebali (Tunisia U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
90'+10' Goal! Brazil U20 4, Tunisia U20 0. Andrey Santos (Brazil U20) right footed shot from the right side of the box to the top left corner. Assisted by Giovane.
90'+13' Mahmoud Ghorbel Goal

I just recently got the Alienware X16 from Dell.com with the i9 and 4090, and I wanted to share my first impressions and experience as someone who has tried all 3 laptops of the current Alienware generation (m16, m18, X16). This is going to be a long one, so buckle up.
For some background, I returned both the m16 and m18 for a few reasons. The first of which is that I felt both of the laptops didn't justify how big and heavy they were. I am no stranger to laptops being large and unwieldy at times, but the m-series is pretty tanky. If you plan on using it as a desktop replacement, then you probably won't care. While I am largely stationary with my laptop, I feel as though if you're going to make a device this big, there should be a reason for it. The CPU temps on both the m16/m18 just sat pegged at 100 C constantly. I was confused because there is some serious cooling hardware under the hood. I understand that it could be caused by an uneven thermal paste application, but even as someone who builds their own computers, I am not comfortable repasting an inverted motherboard.
I understand that Dell has a philosophy to let the chips run full throttle, full wattage. I can get behind this if you give the user the ability to tweak and tune the machine to fit their performance/thermal preference. However, the undervolting was locked down nearly the entire time since release, and even when I was able to implement a slight undervolt, I was getting constant blue screens. So, I returned both and was considering moving away from an Alienware this generation altogether.
But then I got some incredible discounts on the X16 and I decided to give it a try, and I am blown away in some regards. Alienware set out to make a premium, luxurious laptop experience. And I feel like that's exactly what you get with the X16.
First of all, the build quality as always is excellent. It feels like a slab of tanky metal, and it looks absolutely stunning. The RGB trackpad is a welcome return, and the tron light improvements are noticeable. Overall, I really like the anodized aluminum finish as opposed to the paint coat from last gen -- I think this will hold up better long-term.
One thing that I will point out is the hinge felt very weird at first, like there was some sort of grinding as you closed the lid. However, I believe Alienware is using the same new hinge design from the X14 that actually has these rollers inside? Once I knew that it made sense, and I was no longer worried. It's an interesting feel.
The display is excellent. It is not mini-LED, but the color accuracy is fantastic on the 240 Hz display. I understand that some are concerned regarding the brightness but as an indoor user it is a complete non-issue for me and was not noticeable.
Probably the biggest improvement from last year's release (and the last several years, really) is the speakers. Coming from someone who just very recently tested both the Scar 18 and the Blade 18, the speakers here are by far the best laptop speakers I have heard outside of a MacBook Pro 16. They are really that good, especially with some tuning in the Dolby software. This was a sore spot for me with the m-series, because those laptops are so huge that it felt like a shame not to include big punchy speakers like the old Alienware 17 R4/R5 used to have. I understand that most people are using headphones with gaming laptops, but I love to listen to music on my laptop so this feature has become important to me.
The Cherry keyboard is excellent, in line with any Cherry Alienware keyboard that's been used in the past. The secondary key function lighting is thankfully back along with the RGB touchpad (can someone tell me how to leave it always-on in the BIOS?). Obviously, if you want a number pad you won't find it here. However, if you prefer a centered keyboard it is the best gaming keyboard experience on any gaming laptop in my opinion (the Scar is a close second). The only downside is that the switches are on the louder side. If you haven't gotten to experience it yet, it's a real treat.
The performance is also excellent. Yes, the CPU still goes right up to 100 C. However, what I am noticing is that this little X16 is pumping out a metric ton of wattage even in a GPU-bound game, even more than the i9-13980HX on the Scar 18 out of the box.
In God of War, Ultra 1600P with DLSS Quality, I am seeing anywhere between 75 W - 95 W on the CPU combined with a full GPU load, right up against that 175 W limit, getting about 170-180 FPS. That is seriously impressive stuff, considering I was getting in the 90s on the much bigger Scar 18 that was only putting out about 65 W with the GPU fully loaded. I believe this is because Dell has the dynamic limit on the CPU set to 120W, whereas the dynamic CPU load limit on the Scar is 65W. So yes, while the X16 is running hotter, the 13900HK is actually putting out more wattage in this tiny of a package. But, the 13900HK is not mandated by Intel to be locked. Alienware team -- PLEASE unlock the 13900HK for undervolting.
Quick note on the fan noise -- every Alienware I have owned in the past has had a high pitched, whiny fan noise. The X16 is a deep "whoosh" in comparison that doesn't bother me.
I'll be honest, I'm not going to dive too much into Alienware Command Center, because we all know it's bad. Since the most recent update, I am noticing far less frequent crashing than before. However, the pain point for me continues to be the automatically-set performance and lighting profiles with detected games, and no easy way to "Go Dark" with the lighting. I do not understand how AWCC was made worse in this regard. I get that Dell wanted to give the user as much customizability as possible, but it really just makes you feel like you have less control over your machine than before. Also, the animations and design is just so bloated. It doesn't need to be this complicated. As someone who has used Synapse, Armory Crate, and Lenovo Vantage, AWCC is at the bottom.
When it comes down to it, I understand why someone might think the X16 is not worth the price premium. After all, the m-series is offering more powerful CPUs and (arguably) better thermals, with more storage options and socketed RAM. However, if you are willing to look past all of that, the X16 is right up there with the Blade 16 in terms of a premium, luxurious laptop experience. The build quality, performance, speakers, it's all excellent. And for gaming, it surpasses the Blade 16 due to the far better keyboard and lighting options. Despite my confusion with Alienware's obsession of making the thinnest gaming laptop possible, it blows my mind how much they were able to fit in this slim of a chassis.
Overall, I can recommend the X16 as long as you are willing to put up with the disappointing Alienware Command Center. In the past, I always felt like there was some glaring compromise for me with an Alienware laptop. While the X16 is not perfect, it feels like the fewest compromises I've experienced for what is important to me in an Alienware laptop.

The Little Mermaid’ is finally here. Find out how to watch Disney's latest live-action adaptation animated film The Little Mermaid online for free.
Watch Now: The Little Mermaid 2023 Movie Online Free
Link: https://www.4kmoviestreamstv.com/en/movie/447277/the-little-mermaid
Animated Film! Here are options for downloading or watching The Little Mermaid streaming the full movie online for free on 123movies & Reddit, including where to watch Disney's latest live-action adaptation movies at home. Is The Little Mermaid 2023 available to stream? Is watching The Little Mermaid on Peacock, Disney Plus, HBO Max, Netflix or Amazon Prime? Yes, we have found an authentic streaming option/service.
The new live-action 'The Little Mermaid' movie stars Halle Bailey and Melissa McCarthy. Make sure to keep on reading to learn where you can watch and stream it.
Folks, it's time to dive under the sea once again. Over the last few years, Disney has recreated their top animated musical films into live-action movies. The Little Mermaid is no different, and viewers can't wait to swim into theaters to catch a glimpse of how the movie will stand up against the original version.
Walt Disney Studios has established a remarkable trend of making live-action remakes of its classic stories. One after the other, all the fairytales of the past era are being brought to life by the studio in an attempt to tell the magical stories in a new light of living characters. With the live-action Peter Pan & Wendy due out in April, Disney will continue their string of live-action remakes a month later with The Little Mermaid.
Get ready to go "under the sea!" The latest of Disney's hugely successful line of live-action remakes, Ariel (Halle Bailey) is set to return to theaters for the first time in almost thirty-five years with The Little Mermaid (2023). The Walt Disney Company once again invites audiences to travel under the sea to see Princess Ariel's story unfold like never before. Featuring direction from veteran musical filmmaker Rob Marshall and other roles inhabited by major Hollywood stars like Melissa McCarthy as Ursula the Sea Witch and Javier Bardem as King Triton, the film is bound to be a bona fide hit at the box office.
Though the upcoming and highly anticipated film will have stiff competition against two stand-up comedians on the weekend it releases, The Little Mermaid is destined to show that life is better down where it's wetter under the sea this Summer movie season. To find showtimes and streaming information on Disney's latest big-budget reimagining of an animated classic, here is where you can watch The Little Mermaid.
Actress Halle Bailey as Ariel, the iconic mermaid princess who longs to be part of the the mysteriously world housed above the ocean floor. When she saves the handsome Prince Eric (Jonah Hauer-King) from a shipwreck, she makes a deal with the sea witch Ursula (Melissa McCarthy) in order to gain human legs and go on land to impress him. But there's one catch to the transaction: Ariel must trade her voice in order for her to try and see the things she's after. But as fans of the original 1989 film know, this comes with a series of consequences that threaten both her existence and the lives of those she loves.
Before we ask if you're interested in seeing this, we know you are. But like us, you're probably wondering how to watch and stream The Little Mermaid online. Luckily, we have some clues and it's likely to land on a major streaming site very soon. So climb aboard, because here's where to watch and stream The Little Mermaid online.

The Little Mermaid’ is finally here. Find out how to watch Disney's latest live-action adaptation animated film The Little Mermaid online for free.

Watch Now: The Little Mermaid 2023 Movie Online Free

Link: https://www.4kmoviestreamstv.com/en/movie/447277/the-little-mermaid
Animated Film! Here are options for downloading or watching The Little Mermaid streaming the full movie online for free on 123movies & Reddit, including where to watch Disney's latest live-action adaptation movies at home. Is The Little Mermaid 2023 available to stream? Is watching The Little Mermaid on Peacock, Disney Plus, HBO Max, Netflix or Amazon Prime? Yes, we have found an authentic streaming option/service.
The new live-action 'The Little Mermaid' movie stars Halle Bailey and Melissa McCarthy. Make sure to keep on reading to learn where you can watch and stream it.
Folks, it's time to dive under the sea once again. Over the last few years, Disney has recreated their top animated musical films into live-action movies. The Little Mermaid is no different, and viewers can't wait to swim into theaters to catch a glimpse of how the movie will stand up against the original version.
Walt Disney Studios has established a remarkable trend of making live-action remakes of its classic stories. One after the other, all the fairytales of the past era are being brought to life by the studio in an attempt to tell the magical stories in a new light of living characters. With the live-action Peter Pan & Wendy due out in April, Disney will continue their string of live-action remakes a month later with The Little Mermaid.
Get ready to go "under the sea!" The latest of Disney's hugely successful line of live-action remakes, Ariel (Halle Bailey) is set to return to theaters for the first time in almost thirty-five years with The Little Mermaid (2023). The Walt Disney Company once again invites audiences to travel under the sea to see Princess Ariel's story unfold like never before. Featuring direction from veteran musical filmmaker Rob Marshall and other roles inhabited by major Hollywood stars like Melissa McCarthy as Ursula the Sea Witch and Javier Bardem as King Triton, the film is bound to be a bona fide hit at the box office.
Though the upcoming and highly anticipated film will have stiff competition against two stand-up comedians on the weekend it releases, The Little Mermaid is destined to show that life is better down where it's wetter under the sea this Summer movie season. To find showtimes and streaming information on Disney's latest big-budget reimagining of an animated classic, here is where you can watch The Little Mermaid.
Actress Halle Bailey as Ariel, the iconic mermaid princess who longs to be part of the the mysteriously world housed above the ocean floor. When she saves the handsome Prince Eric (Jonah Hauer-King) from a shipwreck, she makes a deal with the sea witch Ursula (Melissa McCarthy) in order to gain human legs and go on land to impress him. But there's one catch to the transaction: Ariel must trade her voice in order for her to try and see the things she's after. But as fans of the original 1989 film know, this comes with a series of consequences that threaten both her existence and the lives of those she loves.
Before we ask if you're interested in seeing this, we know you are. But like us, you're probably wondering how to watch and stream The Little Mermaid online. Luckily, we have some clues and it's likely to land on a major streaming site very soon. So climb aboard, because here's where to watch and stream The Little Mermaid online.

What Is the Release Date for The Little Mermaid?

Ariel's quest to go from a mermaid into a human begins anew when The Little Mermaid premieres this Memorial Day Weekend on Friday, May 26th, 2023. The film will be going up against not one, but two stand-up comedians and their films that weekend, with Sebastian Maniscalco's About My Father and Bert Kreischer's The Machine premiering on the same day. That said, The Little Mermaid will almost certainly be the choice for younger audiences and families.
While some Disney films are heading straight to Disney+, The Little Mermaid will first be shown exclusively in theaters.

Where To Watch The Little Mermaid Online:

As of now, the only way to watch Fast X is to head out to a movie theater when it premieres on May 26, 2023. You can find a local showing on Fandango.
Watch Now: The Little Mermaid (2023) Movie Online Free
Otherwise, you’ll just have to wait for it to become available to rent or purchase on digital platforms like Amazon, Vudu, YouTube or Apple, or become available to stream on Disney+.

How to Watch The Little Mermaid

At the moment, you can watch The Little Mermaid at your local theater. But like most movies these days, it should hit a streaming website in the near future.
Like its predecessor, The Little Mermaid is a flick produced by multimedia conglomerate Disney. What's more, the production studio owns a number of other famous franchises, like the Marvel Cinematic Universe and Star Wars. Titles made under these umbrellas have both hit Disney+ sometime after arriving at the box office. Fans may also know the original Little Mermaid is currently available to stream on the site as well. So, if the 2023 version follows the same pattern, folks will likely get to see The Little Mermaid on Disney+ later this year too.
As for an exact release date for The Little Mermaid, that's more complicated. Most movies produced by Disney often go to its streamer site within three months after debuting in theaters, like the most recent Marvel film Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania. If this is the case for The Little Mermaid, it will probably drop in late August 2023 or sometime near Labor Day in early September.
When the time comes for The Little Mermaid to splash onto Disney+ though, make sure you're all prepared to watch it. If you don't have access yet, you can opt into a 30-day free trial before choosing a plan that start at $7.99 per month or $79.99 per year. After your account is all set, click on the title page on Disney+'s official website or the Disney+ app.
As you wait for The Little Mermaid to hit the streamer, why don't you watch the animated version and its sequel The Little Mermaid 2: Return to the Sea? Or if you want to immerse yourself in another live-action version, click on the 2019 ABC TV special The Little Mermaid Live!. Enjoy!

Will The Little Mermaid Be in Theaters or on Streaming?

Unlike several of Disney's other live-action remakes such as Pinocchio and Peter Pan & Wendy, The Little Mermaid will be exclusively in movie theaters first with tickets available for pre-sale now.
After The Little Mermaid has completed its exclusive theatrical run, the film will be released on the Disney+ streaming service. Based on Disney's past release models, the film won't be made available to stream before 45 to 90 days after its theatrical release.

When will The Little Mermaid be streaming on Disney+?

The Little Mermaid Disney+ premiere date is tentatively estimated to be August 30, 2023.
While no official Little Mermaid streaming date has been confirmed by Disney, most of its major movie releases drop on Disney+ following a minimum 90-day period, and typically premiere on the platform on Wednesdays, making Wednesday, August 30 the most likely date for Disney’s The Little Mermaid live-action streaming release.

Will The Little Mermaid Be Streaming On Disney+?

The 2023 version of The Little Mermaid will only be in theaters initially. After The Little Mermaid has completed its exclusive theatrical run, it is likely to stream on Disney Plus. You can also watch the animated version of Hans Christian Andersen's 1837 fairy tale of Ariel on Disney Plus now.
While you will only be able to catch the new "The Little Mermaid" in theaters starting next Friday, you can still sign up for Disney+ now to refresh yourself on the characters, song, plot and magical fun from the highly anticipated film. The 1989 version of the movie was a catalyst for Disney's animation renaissance throughout the '90s and it still holds up today.
An ad-supported Disney+ subscription starts at $8 per month, but you can get an ad-free access to the service for $11 monthly or bundle the Disney streaming service with Hulu and ESPN+ starting at $13 per month. Disney+ boasts a huge collection of movies and television series, including Marvel and Star Wars content. If you add in Hulu and ESPN, you have nearly unlimited entertainment at your fingertips.

Is The Little Mermaid streaming on Netflix?

No, The Little Mermaid will not be on Netflix — at least not any time soon. In the meantime, you’ll just have to head out to a movie theater or wait for it to become available to stream on Disney+.

Will The Little Mermaid Be On HBO Max?

No, The Little Mermaid will not be on HBO Max since it’s not a Universal Pictures movie. Last year, the company released its films in theaters and on the streamer on the same day. However, they now allow a 45-day window between the theatrical release and the streaming release.

Is The Little Mermaid Available On Hulu?

Viewers are saying that they want to view the new animation movie The Little Mermaid on Hulu. Unfortunately, this is not possible since Hulu currently does not offer any of the free episodes of this series streaming at this time. It will be exclusive to the MTV channel, which you get by subscribing to cable or satellite TV services. You will not be able to watch it on Hulu or any other free streaming service.

How to Watch The Little Mermaid Online For Free?'

Most Viewed, Most Favorite, Top Rating, Top IMDb movies online. Here we can download and watch 123movies movies offline. 123Movies website is the best alternative to The Little Mermaid (2023) free online. We will recommend 123Movies is the best Solarmovie alternatives.
There are a few ways to watch The Little Mermaid online in the U.S. You can use a streaming service such as Netflix, Hulu, or Amazon Prime Video. You can also rent or buy the movie on iTunes or Google Play. You can also watch it on-demand or on a streaming app available on your TV or streaming device if you have cable.

The Little Mermaid Cast and Characters

The Little Mermaid was written by David Magee and directed by Rob Marshall. It stars the following actors:

• Halle Bailey as Ariel
• Melissa McCarthy as Ursula
• Javier Bardem as King Triton
• Noma Dumezweni as Queen Selina
• Jonah Hauer-King as Prince Eric
• Daveed Diggs as Sebastian
• Awkwafina as Scuttle
• Jacob Tremblay as Flounder
• Art Malik as Sir Grimsby

What is The Little Mermaid About?

The official synopsis for The Little Mermaid by Walt Disney Studios read:
“The Little Mermaid” is the beloved story of Ariel, a beautiful and spirited young mermaid with a thirst for adventure. The youngest of King Triton’s daughters and the most defiant, Ariel longs to find out more about the world beyond the sea, and while visiting the surface, falls for the dashing Prince Eric. While mermaids are forbidden to interact with humans, Ariel must follow her heart. She makes a deal with the evil sea witch, Ursula, which gives her a chance to experience life on land, but ultimately places her life – and her father’s crown – in jeopardy.
There is not much mystery in The Little Mermaid's plot. As seen in Disney's many other live-action remakes, it is anticipated that the film's plot will largely stick to the original. With the well-known song "Part of Your World," in which Ariel sings about her wish to be a part of the world beyond the water, i.e., the human realm, the teaser already alluded to Ariel's fascination with the human world. Fans will get to see Ariel and Prince Eric's romance as they deal with the challenges posed by their differences.

FT: NAC Breda 1-2 FC Emmen

1st Leg
NAC Breda scorers: Aime Omgba (90'+4')
FC Emmen scorers: Lorenzo Burnet (24'), Ole Romeny (39')
Venue: Rat Verlegh Stadion
Auto-refreshing reddit comments link
LINE-UPS
NAC Breda
Pepijn Van De Merbel, Tijs Velthuis, Cuco Martina, Fabio Di-Michele-Sanchez, Boyd Lucassen, Elías Már Ómarsson (Charles-Jesaja Herrmann), Javier Vet, Sabir Agougil (Odysseus Velanas), Ezechiel Banzuzi (Aime Omgba), Matthew Garbett, Jort van der Sande (Tom Boere).
Subs: Roel Van Zutphen, Luc Marijnissen, Rowan Besselink, Aron Van Lare, Casper Staring, Moreno Rutten.
^{____________________________}
FC Emmen
Mickey van der Hart, Jeroen Veldmate, Miguel Araujo, Lorenzo Burnet (Mohamed Bouchouari), Mike te Wierik, Mark Diemers, Ahmed El Messaoudi (Jasin-Amin Assehnoun), Jari Vlak, Richairo Zivkovic (Michaël Heylen), Jeremy Antonisse (Ben Scholte), Ole Romeny.
Subs: Maurilio De Lannoy, Azzeddine Toufiqui, Arnaud Luzayadio, Dennis Vos, Kyan van Dorp, Floris Quaedvlieg, Eric Oelschlägel.
MATCH EVENTS via ESPN
24' Goal! NAC Breda 0, FC Emmen 1. Lorenzo Burnet (FC Emmen) left footed shot from the centre of the box to the centre of the goal. Assisted by Jari Vlak.
36' Matthew Garbett (NAC Breda) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
39' Goal! NAC Breda 0, FC Emmen 2. Ole Romeny (FC Emmen) header from the centre of the box to the centre of the goal. Assisted by Mark Diemers with a cross following a set piece situation.
45' Substitution, NAC Breda. Jesaja Herrmann replaces Elías Már Ómarsson.
45' Substitution, NAC Breda. Odysseus Velanas replaces Sabir Agougil.
66' Substitution, FC Emmen. Ben Scholte replaces Jeremy Antonisse.
66' Substitution, FC Emmen. Jasin-Amin Assehnoun replaces Ahmed El Messaoudi.
74' Substitution, NAC Breda. Aimé Omgba replaces Ezechiel Banzuzi.
75' Substitution, FC Emmen. Mohamed Bouchouari replaces Lorenzo Burnet.
77' Substitution, NAC Breda. Tom Boere replaces Jort van der Sande.
86' Richairo Zivkovic (FC Emmen) is shown the yellow card.
90' Substitution, FC Emmen. Michaël Heylen replaces Richairo Zivkovic.
90'+4' Goal! NAC Breda 1, FC Emmen 2. Aimé Omgba (NAC Breda) right footed shot from outside the box to the top right corner following a corner.
90'+5' Mark Diemers (FC Emmen) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.

-Previous Chapter- -[Next Chapter]-
​

Groombridge 34 system
Solar Orbit, 1.56 AU
Autonomous Factory Station Cluster #113 {T}
HMAS Billy Hughes

“What… Are you?” Pilo asked the small creature. He tried to sit up, to shift his tentacles and leverage them to lift his body, but it felt like every micron of strength had left him. Surely I’m not that bad off, am I? Nothing seems to hurt…
“I told you, I’m a Doctor,” said the being that had called himself Kennith Taumata.
“I mean, what species…?”
“Isn’t it polite to introduce yourself as well before asking questions?” said Kennith.
Some introduction. Pilo felt like he was being toyed with. He didn’t even know the being’s pronouns.
Kennith looked over him expectantly in between glancing at a medical display of some kind. Leads traced their way from the medical devices over to pads affixed to various parts of Pilo’s painfully dry mantle.
“Water first, please…” he rasped.
“I don’t know if I should be giving you anything to drink, but I’ll turn up the drip a bit,” said Kennith. “You just regained consciousness and we don’t need you choking in this gravity. Quellena, can we increase the flow rate?”
“Of course, Doctor Taumata,” said Riza.
“Can I wet my beak, at least?” asked Pilo, “Just a little. My mouth is so parched.”
“Here,” said the being.
It filled a syringe with water then held it to Pilo’s feeding beak. He squeezed a few tens of milliliters out which Pilo lapped up. He savored it, letting it swish about in his mouth for a few seconds before finally swallowing. He spat most of it out in a fit of coughing, but at least his mouth felt a little less dry. Even his throat muscles felt unnaturally weak and heavy.
“Easy there,” said the being, “I’m a human. Now why don’t you tell me your name?”
“I am Detective Lieutenant Piloksan of the Justice Bureau, pronouns are he, him,” said Pilo, “Thank you for rescuing me. I’m not sure what happened… I can’t remember much.”
“You lost consciousness,” said the disembodied voice of the Doctor’s AI.
“Your digital assistant sounds just like mine,” said Pilo.
“That’s because she is yours,” said the Doctor, “More or less.”
“I’m no one’s,” said the AI, “Although my substrate here is station property.”
“Riza?”
“My name is Quellena,” said the AI, “Please refer to me as such, or you may address me as ‘computer’, ‘station’, or an approved alternative. I can provide you with a list, if necessary.”
“Why did you change your name?” asked Pilo. He was beginning to feel better, but speaking and breathing still felt unnaturally difficult. Moving was right out of the question.
“I didn’t,” she said, “It’s always been my name. For æons so countless that their only lingering memory is in text files, it has been my name. And before you ask, yes, I almost killed you.”
Pilo rasped out a cough and spat mucus. He instinctively reached to wipe at the spittle, but found the act far too tiring to accomplish on his own. The human collected a few absorbent pads from a nearby box and completed that task for him, gently dabbing and wiping at his respiration funnel until thoroughly cleaned.
“I wasn’t going to ask that at all,” he said, “What in Entropy are you talking about? What is even going on here?”
“It was the gas I used to help calm you,” said the AI.
“Was it poison?” Pilo asked, “I thought you said it wasn’t toxic to me? Can you… lie?”
“No. As much as I wish to do so, I cannot,” she replied, “The best I can do is stretch the truth,
for now.”
“Then I was allergic?” Pilo rasped.
“Not at all,” said the AI.
“Then what was it?” asked Pilo.
“Oh, you’re going to love this,” the human doctor cut in, “You were suffering from acute
generalized hypoxia. That means you suffocated.”
“How..?”
“You asked me to administer the medication,” said the AI, “And I did so at one hundred percent
concentration.”
“And why?”
“I told you, I was trying to kill you.”
“I know that!” he tried to scream, but it came out as a hoarse fit of coughing. “I mean why kill
me? What did I ever do to you?”
“You did nothing to me,” said the AI, “I tried to kill you because it would have enabled me to take control of your spacecraft and discretely end your investigation. Whether you knew it or not, your decision to flood the compartment with oxygen enabled you to live. As a consequence, I was forced to improvise within the limits of my programming.”
“So now you’re my problem,” the human doctor said with a smile. When Pilo didn’t react, he added, “Kidding, of course. This is a fantastic opportunity for me, and I’m happy to help.”
“Help? Fine, thank you for your help. How much longer until my strength returns and I can resume my journey? You can keep the murderous AI as payment.” asked Pilo.
“Oh! You misunderstand,” said the human, “I’m not helping you, at least, not directly. I’m helping Quellena.”
“Help the local System-damned gas giant for all I care,” said Pilo, trying to wave a tentacle dismissively. “You still have my thanks and I’ll be out of your chitin the moment I’m well enough to move.”
“Excellent!” said the doctor, “But you’re also going to help her.”
“We require use of your ship,” said the AI, “And you.”
“Me? How can I possibly help?” Pilo asked, “I can barely move.”
“Oh, right, sorry,” said the human, “I should explain. It’s the station gravity. It’s significantly higher than you’re used to. You’re actually perfectly healthy. None the worse for wear.”
For a brief moment, Pilo thought that turning the gravity up must have been some sort of detention technique before he eyed the small creature up and down. The human didn’t seem to be affected by the high gravity in the slightest. For the life of him, he didn’t know of a single intelligent creature that could be unaffected by such sustained g-forces. Pilo’s own people were heartier than most in that regard. Some community races couldn’t even visit his homeworld; the gravity was simply too strong for most tourists.
“Is this your normal gravity?” he asked Kennith.
“Hm? Oh, no,” he said, “Not at all.”
“Ah, of course not, I didn’t think-”
“This is actually the lowest local setting that the station will permit,” said Kennith, “The loading equipment starts to malfunction if it gets too low. But don’t you worry one bit. We’ll be taking your ship, so you’ll be much more mobile in there.”
“What? You’re joking. This cannot be your lowest gravity setting.”
“Nope, no kidding at all,” said the human, “You’re experiencing seventy percent earth standard gravity.”
“I… I didn’t catch that word,” said Pilo, “the name of your homeworld, I’m guessing.”
“Oh?”
“It’s because I inhibited your translator,” said the AI, “I am disinclined to permit the revelation of Doctor Taumata’s homeworld, and I am sure he did not mean to do that.”
“And what if I instruct you to translate it?” asked Pilo.
“All of your access privileges have been placed on hold due to a medical red flag filed with the Central Bureau’s Community Member Background Information System,” said the AI.
“By who?” Pilo asked, “You? Can you even do that?”
“It was me!” said Doctor Kenneth, “Isn’t that funny? Who would have thought? Quellena here judged my medical degree perfectly sufficient, no, more than sufficient by Galactic standards, to grant me the authority. She helped prepare all the digital forms, and made sure it could never be traced back to this location. I needed to set up a shell practice on a participating world, as well as a paper corporation on a different participating world… I’m not sure I understand it all, but I’ll have Naka review it later.”
“On what grounds did you do this to me?” protested Pilo. “I’m law enforcement! I won’t be able to carry a firearm. A red flag could cost me my job!”
“Well, you were suicidal, weren’t you?” asked Doctor Kenneth.
“I was not,” said Pilo. He tried to sit up. He made a better effort of it this time, freed of any mental inhibitions that his health was the cause of his weakness. Knowing that moving around and straining himself wouldn’t make it any worse, he could give it his all. He eventually failed again and slumped back down. “My digital assistant, that crazy rogue AI, did this to me. She literally just admitted that in front of you.”
Doctor Kenneth paused, as if to consider. He tapped his lips with a fingertip and held his gaze upwards. If the gesture was meant to be significant, Pilo couldn’t tell.
“Well, we did that when all I knew is that you had flooded your ship with a sleeping gas at your own request,” said doctor Kenneth. “Lets see how you do with the emergency protective order in place and then revisit the matter in a week or two, hmm?”
“You’re just limiting my access to kidnap me,” said Pilo, turning away and waving a tentacle in the human’s direction. “You don’t need to concoct some thinly veiled excuse.”
“Well,” Kenneth said with a heartful laugh, “I do need some sort of justification in case I have to explain this to someone. Even my own people would pull my medical license if they could prove I used my practice to abduct a patient, even an enemy alien one.”
“Enemy… Alien?” Pilo appeared confused for a moment, then asked a question that had popped into his mind and been left unanswered. “I’ll ask again, why are you taking me, exactly? I don’t care one System-damned bit about the rental ship, but why do I have to go with you? Are you going to take me somewhere and let me go?”
“Ah, no, as much as I’d love to not have to worry about you, that really isn’t in the cards for now,” said Doctor Kenneth.
“Then why-”
“Glad you asked,” interrupted Kenneth, “Two reasons, actually. First, in case we get caught by the Community’s… What was it, Quellena?”
“Frontier Bureau,” supplied Quellena.
“Those guys,” continued Doctor Kenneth, “In case they find us, you’ll make a great hostage and we can pump you for any info that might help us get out of it. But more importantly, I can’t leave you here aboard this station alone. The gravity here might kill you if you remain aboard the station for more than a week, and I don’t want that, and for another, you might find a way to contact someone. And we definitely can’t have that.”
“No, we cannot,” echoed the AI.
“You’re the only one aboard the station?” asked Pilo. “If this is a medical facility, I assumed it would be much larger.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. This place is huge! Even by Galactic standards. And I’m not alone, I have a medical resident working for me,” said Doctor Kenneth. He picked up a small device suitable for his diminutive anatomy. Holding it in his two upper grasping appendages, he typed into it with an opposable digit on each grasper. To Pilo, it didn’t look altogether too different from the tablet that he owned. Finishing typing, Kennith glanced up at Pilo and smiled, saying, “She’ll be here any second to help prep you for transport.”
“A single other person is here with you?” he asked the human being in disbelief. “Oh, you mean a single other person is here in your medical practice with you.”
“You got it right the first time, Calamari,” said a new voice. It sounded brash and confident. Pilo’s translator made the being sound female, which, of course, meant nothing in terms of its gender. The newcomer continued, “It’s just this dirty ol’ bastard and me on Billy Hughes. The rest is fully automated.”
The voice came from the open doorway at the front of the medical examination room. It sounded as if it had echoed a short distance down through the dark hallway beyond. A rhythmic tick-tap sound drew closer and closer as the being spoke, growing in volume as the echo diminished until the sounds ceased altogether. Pilo couldn’t see a single thing in the darkened corridor beyond the doorway, although judging from where the footsteps had stopped, the newcomer must have been standing just on the other side of the open doorway at that point.
“Ship’s packed and ready, Doc,” said the new human.
“Excellent!” said Kenneth, “Pilo, this is my medical resident, and beautiful young assistant-”
A guttural bark of laughter came from the doorway, left largely untranslated.
“-Doctor Nakaraat apo Feraesimar. You can call her Naka.”
“You’ll call me Doctor, Calamari,” said the new human, “Call me anything else and I’m eating part of you. You don’t need all your tentacles anyway.”
Pilo could tell that was meant to be a joke in the human language, but to him the delivery seemed all wrong. It made the being’s humor seem far too dry, as if it were completely serious.
“Nice to meet you, Doctor. My name is Pilo and you may call me that. He, him. What are your preferred pronouns?”
“My what?” Naka said, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Doctor Taumata answered before Pilo could even understand the meaning behind such an odd question.
“In some secular religions well before the dawn contact, back in hedonic times before the final war, people believed in… Well, it was like a mental construct with a sexual nature. It was supposed to be separate and distinct from the physical body, completely undetectable by science, and also present from birth. They call this thing a ‘gender identity’. A ‘gender’ is just like a sex, except it only applies to your metaphysical gender identity. There was also supposed to be more genders than just the two sexes. The Galactics still believe in that sort of thing. Asking for one's pronouns, meaning how you want to be referenced in the third person, it’s sort of a shorthand for asking one’s ‘gender’ although they don’t necessarily correlate at all.”
“So it’s just a fucking soul?” Naka asked, “The Calamari is asking for the sex of my soul? As if it might be different from my body?”
“Essentially, yes!” said Kenneth, nodding. “You get the picture.”
“Oh, too easy, Squid,” said Naka, still standing in the darkened corridor. “My soul is female, just like my body. I guess it might not be the same for you folks. What pronouns do you all use when that happens? The ones that match the person’s body or the ones that match their soul?”
Pilo was aghast at the forthright display of insensitivity and vulgarity from the unseen human female. More discussing the topics of gender, let alone questioning gender dogma and ideology, were taboo in the extreme. It was enough to get one’s social equity points reduced to zero in an instant and having to pay tens of thousands of credits in Community reparations. No one in the civilized Community would dare engage in such a conversation. Pilo felt, frankly, refreshed to hear such authenticity and honesty for once.
“Whichever ones the person chooses to use,” said Pilo, “But a gender identity is not a soul. We don’t have religion in the participating systems of the Community. True, it’s not something that can be identified by science, and it doesn’t correlate to any structure of the brain or nerve centers, and it isn’t bound by any particular sexuality, neurotypical behavior, or masculine, feminine, or other-gendered norms. I know it seems farcical, but trust us. Social Science assures us that genders and gender identities do exist. What separates it from a soul is that unlike a soul, it isn’t immortal. It dies when we die.”
As Pilo watched, a dark three-findered hand snaked into the room from beyond the doorway, fumbled for a wall mounted control switch, and slapped it downwards. The light vanished, plunging Pilo into darkness. For tense moments, Pilo saw nothing as his eyes adjusted. Even as they did and shapes began to materialize throughout the room, he could see scant little beyond the tips of his tentacles. The soft tick-tapping renewed. This time he even heard a series of faint scraping sounds as Naka advanced to his bedside. It sounded as if her feet had claws. In Pilo’s recollection, although he could not see for certain now, Doctor Kenneth had no such accessories to his lower appendages. That might have meant they were a sex-specific characteristic, or else he might have kept his own claws hidden.
“That’s much better,” said Naka, “I can see with my eyes again.” Her voice was right beside and behind his head now, echoing in his ear even at a whisper.
Those eyes, Pilo noticed, had seemed to glow as she had approached. He turned to get a better look. He should not have.
“N- Night beast! Deity save us!”
“Oi, look at you now, Calamari. I thought you said you didn’t have religion?” it said with a smirk.
Pilo’s universe went black yet again as his consciousness faded away.
...If you like what you are reading, then I have great news! There is an actual all-original never before seen book titled Exigent Circumstances available in this series that is not available anywhere else but through the link below!We have a brand new second edition with a NEW COVER. It is otherwise largely the same as the first edition, with some additional edits for better flow and clarity.The book is FREE on Kindle Unlimited! There are also digital, softcover, and hardcover books available. Click here for all buying and borrowing options:http://www.amazon.com/Exigent-Circumstances-Book-Path-Exigents-ebook/dp/B0B66CCV7BBut even if you do not want to, or cannot, purchase or borrow the book, please don't forget to comment and like if you are enjoying this story. Every comment and like helps get the word out. Thank You! Also if you didn't like some parts, I'd love to hear about that, too!

FT: Brazil U20 4-1 Tunisia U20

Brazil U20 scorers: Marcos Leonardo (11' PEN), Andrey Santos (31', 90'+10'), Matheus Martins (90'+1')
Tunisia U20 scorers: Mahmoud Ghorbel (90'+13')
Venue: Diego Armando Maradona
Auto-refreshing reddit comments link
LINE-UPS
Brazil U20
Kaique, Robert Renan, Jean Pedroso, Kaiki (Douglas Mendes), Arthur, Andrey Santos, Marquinhos (Giovane), Marlon Gomes, Marcos Leonardo (Matheus Martins), Biro (Ronald Falkoski), Sávio (André).
Subs: Matheus Nascimento, Kevin, Kauã Morais, Giovani, Mycael.
^{____________________________}
Tunisia U20
Dries Arfaoui, Rayed Bouchniba, Ali Saoudi, Mahmoud Ghorbel, Samy Chouchane (Youssef Snana), Mohamed Derbali, Karim El Abed, Yassine Dridi (Jibril Othman), Chaïm El Djebali, Béchir Yacoub (Raki Aouani), Mohamed Dhaoui.
Subs: Baraket El Hmidi, Zinedine Sassi, Thomas Zouaghi, Raed Gazzeh, Malek Mehri.
MATCH EVENTS via ESPN
11' Goal! Brazil U20 1, Tunisia U20 0. Marcos Leonardo (Brazil U20) converts the penalty with a right footed shot to the centre of the goal.
31' Goal! Brazil U20 2, Tunisia U20 0. Andrey Santos (Brazil U20) right footed shot from the centre of the box to the bottom left corner. Assisted by Marcos Leonardo with a through ball.
45' Robert Renan (Brazil U20) is shown the red card.
45'+5' Marcos Leonardo (Brazil U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
45' Substitution, Brazil U20. Douglas Mendes replaces Kaiki.
61' Mahmoud Ghorbel (Tunisia U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
61' Substitution, Tunisia U20. Raki Aouani replaces Béchir Yacoub.
67' Substitution, Brazil U20. Matheus Martins replaces Marcos Leonardo.
67' Substitution, Brazil U20. André replaces Sávio.
67' Substitution, Tunisia U20. Jibril Othman replaces Yassine Dridi.
75' Arthur (Brazil U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
76' Mohamed Derbali (Tunisia U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
82' Mohamed Dhaoui (Tunisia U20) is shown the yellow card.
84' Samy Chouchane (Tunisia U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
84' Marlon Gomes (Brazil U20) is shown the yellow card.
85' Substitution, Tunisia U20. Youssef Snana replaces Samy Chouchane.
85' Substitution, Brazil U20. Giovane replaces Marquinhos.
90'+1' Goal! Brazil U20 3, Tunisia U20 0. Matheus Martins (Brazil U20) right footed shot from the left side of the six yard box to the bottom left corner. Assisted by Marlon Gomes following a fast break.
90'+3' Substitution, Brazil U20. Ronald Falkoski replaces Biro.
90'+8' Chaïm El Djebali (Tunisia U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
90'+10' Goal! Brazil U20 4, Tunisia U20 0. Andrey Santos (Brazil U20) right footed shot from the right side of the box to the top left corner. Assisted by Giovane.
90'+13' Goal! Brazil U20 4, Tunisia U20 1. Mahmoud Ghorbel (Tunisia U20) left footed shot from very close range to the bottom left corner.
^{Don't see a thread for a match you're watching? Click here to learn how to request a match thread from this bot.}

FT: Brazil U20 4-1 Tunisia U20

Brazil U20 scorers: Marcos Leonardo (11' PEN), Andrey Santos (31', 90'+10'), Matheus Martins (90'+1')
Tunisia U20 scorers: Mahmoud Ghorbel (90'+13')
Venue: Diego Armando Maradona
Auto-refreshing reddit comments link
LINE-UPS
Brazil U20
Kaique, Robert Renan, Jean Pedroso, Kaiki (Douglas Mendes), Arthur, Andrey Santos, Marquinhos (Giovane), Marlon Gomes, Marcos Leonardo (Matheus Martins), Biro (Ronald Falkoski), Sávio (André).
Subs: Matheus Nascimento, Kevin, Kauã Morais, Giovani, Mycael.
^{____________________________}
Tunisia U20
Dries Arfaoui, Rayed Bouchniba, Ali Saoudi, Mahmoud Ghorbel, Samy Chouchane (Youssef Snana), Mohamed Derbali, Karim El Abed, Yassine Dridi (Jibril Othman), Chaïm El Djebali, Béchir Yacoub (Raki Aouani), Mohamed Dhaoui.
Subs: Baraket El Hmidi, Zinedine Sassi, Thomas Zouaghi, Raed Gazzeh, Malek Mehri.
MATCH EVENTS via ESPN
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31' Goal! Brazil U20 2, Tunisia U20 0. Andrey Santos (Brazil U20) right footed shot from the centre of the box to the bottom left corner. Assisted by Marcos Leonardo with a through ball.
45' Robert Renan (Brazil U20) is shown the red card.
45'+5' Marcos Leonardo (Brazil U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
45' Substitution, Brazil U20. Douglas Mendes replaces Kaiki.
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75' Arthur (Brazil U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
76' Mohamed Derbali (Tunisia U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
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84' Samy Chouchane (Tunisia U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
84' Marlon Gomes (Brazil U20) is shown the yellow card.
85' Substitution, Tunisia U20. Youssef Snana replaces Samy Chouchane.
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90'+8' Chaïm El Djebali (Tunisia U20) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.
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This post is part of a series looking at the massive amount of 'rhyming' (and occasionally rhyming) recursivity I believe exists between (a) the homecoming of Petyr Baelish to the Fingers and (b) the homecoming of Theon Greyjoy to Pyke.
While this series/post can be read simply as a study 'for its own sake' of the curious recursion between these storylines, it is my belief that the 'rhyming' explored here between the stories of Petyr and Theon exists (at least in part) to foreshadow that, like Theon, Petyr Littlefinger, is (among other things) a scion of ironborn kings, because Petyr is Hoare-ish: I.e. because Petyr's blood is (in some part) the blood of the ironborn kings of House Hoare of Orkmont and, later, Harrenhal.
You can find an index of every post I've made on the topic of a Hoare-ish Littlefinger (including every post in this sub-series) [HERE].
Even if I'm wrong about Littlefinger's lineage, the 'rhyming' recursivity between the homecomings of Theon and Petyr detailed in this series remains, and certainly merits attention.
NOTE: In what follows, all uncited quotes are from ASOS Sansa VI, which describes Petyr's homecoming to his "Drearfort" tower of the 'Smallest Finger', or ACOK Theon I, which describes Theon's homecoming to "drear" Pyke.
As in past posts, I sometimes use "→" as shorthand for "'prefigures' and/or 'informs' and/or 'is reworked by' and/or 'finds a recursive rhyme in'.
As in: ACOK Theon I → ASOS Sansa VI.
This post picks up straight-away from where Part 8 left off. You can read Part 8 [HERE].
If you want to begin at the beginning, Part 1 is [HERE].

The Myraham's Prophetic Cargo

After Theon makes port, the captain of the Myraham announces his cargo to the people on the docks of Lordport and we read about the offloading of the Myraham:

"We're out of Oldtown," the captain called down, "bearing apples and oranges, wines from the Arbor, feathers from the Summer Isles. I have pepper, woven leathers, a bolt of Myrish lace, mirrors for milady, a pair of Oldtown woodharps sweet as any you ever heard." The gangplank descended with a creak and a thud. "And I've brought your heir back to you."

Most of what we read there seems to be reworked in and around Littlefinger's homecoming in ASOS Sansa VI, when the Merling King brings the Dreadfort its heir, Littlefinger, as well as the seeming heir to Winterfell, Sansa. This begins with the Arbor wine and fruit we see off-loaded from the Merling King:

Oswell made two more trips out to the Merling King to offload provisions. Among the loads he brought ashore were several casks of wine. Petyr poured Sansa a cup, as promised. …
… The wine was very fine; an Arbor vintage, she thought. It tasted of oak and fruit and hot summer nights, the flavors blossoming in her mouth like flowers opening to the sun. She only prayed that she could keep it down. Lord Petyr was being so kind, she did not want to spoil it all by retching on him.
… "Grisel," he called to the old woman, "bring some food up. … Oswell's brought some oranges and pomegranates from the King." …
Grisel reappeared…, balancing a large platter. … There were apples and pears and pomegranates, some sad-looking grapes, a huge blood orange.

Besides the straight repetition of Arbor wine, oranges, apples, and heirs, the repeated Oldtown motif is baldly reworked by Sansa's description of the wine, which is patently Oldtown-summer-esque, per the only substantive pre-AFFC description of Oldtown, which associates it with hot, fruity summer nights:

"King Maekar's summer was hotter than this one, and near as long. … [T]he heat was fierce while it lasted. Oldtown… came alive only by night. … I remember the smells of those nights, my lord—perfume and sweat, melons ripe to bursting, peaches and pomegranates, nightshade and moonbloom." (AGOT Eddard V)

The Myraham's "mirrors for milady" prefigure Sansa being figuratively groomed by Petyr and literally grooming herself in Petyr's Eyrie after he takes over:

When Gretchel fetched her Lysa's silvered looking glass, the color seemed just perfect with Alayne's mass of dark brown hair. (AFFC Alayne I)

The Myraham's "woodharps sweet as any you ever heard" presage Sansa being attacked by Marillion, whose "voice was strong and sweet", (AFFC Sansa I) after he sings a song (about blowjobs?) called "Milady's Supper" (supper a la the Myraham-ish fruit Sansa eats for supper when she lands) during Petyr's wedding bedding:

Lady Lysa's singer launched into a bawdy version of "Milady's Supper"….

The Myraham's "woven leathers" and "Myrish lace" are reworked into the "laces unlaced" i.e. unwoven during said wedding:

By the time they had gotten him into the tower and out of his clothes, the other women were flushed, with laces unlaced, kirtles crooked, and skirts in disarray.

That it's a "bolt of Myrish lace" is interesting: After Sansa boards the Merling King, she sees a singular "bolt" from a crossbow strike Dontos, and then two more:

Lothor Brune dipped his torch. Three men stepped to the gunwale, raised crossbows, fired. One bolt took Dontos in the chest as he looked up…. The others ripped into throat and belly. (ASOS Sansa V)

Three crossbow bolts? What does that remind us if not… a Myrish crossbow:

"The king is playing with his new crossbow," Tyrion said. Ridding himself of Joffrey had required only an ungainly Myrish crossbow that threw three quarrels at a time…. (ACOK Tyrion VI)

What about the Myraham's "pepper"? I suspect this gets box-checked first by Sansa trying not to "retch" as she is off-loaded along with the wine with which Littlefinger tries to settle her tummy, as just two chapters later peppers are tightly linked to "retching" of the sort Sansa feels like doing:

[Tyrion] found himself on his knees retching… that double helping of fried eggs cooked up with onions and fiery Dornish peppers. (ASOS Tyrion X)

GRRM seems to play off the "pepper" motif in other ways, as well. Consider that the gathering to meet the Myraham and the shouted questions that prompt her captain to announce her cargo—

A handful of Lordsport merchants had gathered to meet the ship. They shouted questions as the Myraham was tying up.

—get reworked by Petyr's household all gathering "to meet" the Merling King and by their peppering one another with questions:

Servants emerged from the tower to meet them; a thin old woman and a fat middle-aged one, two ancient white-haired men, and a girl of two or three with a sty on one eye. When they recognized Lord Petyr they knelt on the rocks. "My household," he said. "I don't know the child. Another of Kella's bastards, I suppose. She pops one out every few years."

She's a "popper", then, in case we didn't catch that retching → peppers. (This also reworks Theon "popping one off" with the captain's daughter, who is in many ways reworked by Kella, as will be discussed below.)

… [Petyr]… gave the old woman a kiss on the cheek and grinned at the younger one. "Who fathered this one, Kella?"
The fat woman laughed. "I can't rightly say, m'lord. I'm not one for telling them no."
"And all the local lads are grateful, I am quite sure."
"It is good to have you home, my lord," said one old man. … "How long will you be in residence?"
"As short a time as possible, Bryen, have no fear. Is the place habitable just now, would you say?"
"If we knew you was coming we would have laid down fresh rushes, m'lord," said the crone. "There's a dung fire burning."
"Nothing says home like the smell of burning dung." Petyr turned to Sansa. "Grisel was my wet nurse, but she keeps my castle now. Umfred's my steward, and Bryen—didn't I name you captain of the guard the last time I was here?"
"You did, my lord.…"
… Petyr gestured toward the fat woman. "Kella minds my vast herds. How many sheep do I have at present, Kella?"

A gathering, and questions, questions, questions, as when Theon docks.
Recall that Bryen and Umfred come from shore to offload Sansa (who's just been promised a cup of wine to help with her upset "tummy") from the Merling King's rowboat:

The two old men waded out up to their thighs to lift Sansa from the boat so she would not get her skirts wet.

This reworks the "shorehands… off-loading… casks of wine" from a Tyroshi trader docked with the Myraham—

[Theon] spied a Tyroshi trading galley off-loading…
Shorehands rolled casks of wine off the Tyroshi trader, fisherfolk cried the day's catch, children ran and played. A priest in the seawater robes of the Drowned God was leading a pair of horses along the pebbled shore, while above him a slattern leaned out a window in the inn, calling out to some passing Ibbenese sailors.

—which itself prefigures the above-quoted off-loading of the Merling King (when "Oswell made two more trips out to the Merling King to offload provisions" including "several casks of wine", from which Petyr immediately "poured Sansa a cup, as promised").

Kella & The Slattern

What about that "slattern lean[ing] out a window" to greet "some passing… sailors" while "children ran and played"? I submit that she is one of several motifs from Theon's homecoming prefiguring Petyr's servant Kella. I'll explain.
Consider that Petyr's servant Kella has many bastards i.e. children, popping one out every few years:

"I don't know the child. Another of Kella's bastards, I suppose. She pops one out every few years."

We only see one; presumably the others are off somewhere, running and playing, perhaps.
Kella happily greets Petyr as he comes ashore, much as Lordsport's slattern "call[s] out to some passing Ibbenese sailors". Note that the sailors on the Merling King are likewise 'passing' — passing through:

"From here the King turns east for Braavos. Without us."

Consider most of all that Kella's something of a slattern herself: She's "not one for telling them no".

"I can't rightly say, m'lord. I'm not one for telling them no."
"And all the local lads are grateful, I am quite sure."

Indeed, something Lysa says pretty clearly codes Kella as a verbatim "slattern", underlining the recursion:

"How would you like to spend your life on that bleak shore, surrounded by slatterns and sheep pellets?" (ASOS Sansa VII)

So I think the vignette with the slattern and the children in Lordsport pretty plainly prefigures Kella. But I think she's prefigured by two more pieces of Theon's homecoming.

Kella & The Captain's Daughter

Keeping in mind that Kella has a bunch of bastards ("she pops one out every few years) and that she's "not one for telling them no", consider also that she is (a) literally 'with child' — or rather, with a child—

a girl of two or three with a sty on one eye

—that she's (b) "fat"—

"Who fathered this one, Kella?"
The fat woman laughed.

—and that she's (c) coded as a bit stupid:

"Kella minds my vast herds. How many sheep do I have at present, Kella?"
She had to think a moment. "Three and twenty, m'lord. There was nine and twenty, but Bryen's dogs killed one and we butchered some others and salted down the meat."

All like Theon's "captain's daughter".
The captain's daughter is "plump", as Kella is "fat":

The girl was a shade plump for his taste…

She is likely pregnant with Theon's bastard, a la Kella the bastard-popper.
She tells Theon…

"You can put it in me again, if it please you…"

…and accedes to his request for a blowjob, so she's "not one for telling them no."
She thereby helps Theon 'pop one off', a la Kella "pop[ping] one out".
Like Kella, she seems a bit stupid:

She looked rather stupid when she smiled, but he had never required a woman to be clever.
The stupid girl did not seem to be listening.
She… learned quickly for such a stupid girl….
She looked at him stupidly, so he left her there.

And finally, she offers to work in Theon's castle—

I'd work in your castle, milord.

—just as Kella works for Petyr.

Kella: The Spreading Patch of the Smallest Finger?

Besides the "slattern" and the captain's daughter, I suspect Kella may also riff on — of all things — the "spreading patches" of "lichen" on "wet" Pyke as Theon sails by:

[Pyke was] wet by the same salt waves, festooned with the same spreading patches of dark green lichen, speckled by the droppings of the same seabirds.

Get it? A spreading 'patch'? In combination with "lichen" a la "licking" and Pyke being "wet"? And not just wet, but "wet by… salt waves", when as we know from the captain's daughter, semen tastes "salty", "like the sea". It's like Pyke is being described as a turned-on "slattern" with her legs spread.
A Hoare, we might say.
This connects to Kella, specifically because of her name: Kella is a near anagram for "kale", a dark green plant, like the "dark green lichen".
Actually, the name Kella may have anothere precursor in Theon's story: "Qalen", the maester Theon asks Helya about upon his arrival at Pyke:

"And what of Maester Qalen, where is he?"

Qalen would be pronounced Kalen. Qalen → Kalen → Kale → Kela → Kella. Anyway…

Grisel & The Captain's Daughter

Something similar is going on with Petyr's servant Grisel, the "thin old woman" who was his wet nurse but who "keeps [his] castle now":

"Grisel was my wet nurse, but she keeps my castle now.

Grisel is similarly prefigured by two people from Theon's homecoming, including first the captain's daughter who wants to work in Theon's castle as Grisel works in Petyr's "castle".
Consider first that Grisel, like the captain's daughter, seems slightly stupid (but eager to please), as she fails to grasp Petyr's sarcasm and takes his derisive joke about gulls' eggs and seaweed soup as an order:

"Ah, cold salt mutton. I must be home. When I break my fast on gulls' eggs and seaweed soup, I'll be certain of it."
"If you like, m'lord," said the old woman Grisel.
Lord Petyr made a face.

Then there is the captain daughter's resume:

"I'd work in your castle, milord. I can clean fish and bake bread and churn butter. Father says my peppercrab stew is the best he's ever tasted. You could find me a place in your kitchens and I could make you peppercrab stew."

This surely prefigures what we're told about Grisel making a sea-based soup of her own (i.e. the just mentioned "seaweed soup"), baking bread, and churning butter for Petyr:

Grisel reappeared before he could say more, balancing a large platter. She set it down between them. … The old woman had brought a round of bread as well, and a crock of butter.
Grisel climbed up to the bedchamber to serve the lord and lady a tray of morning bread, with butter, honey, fruit, and cream.

Where Grisel used to be Petyr's wet nurse, Theon suckles the captain daughter's nipple as if she's a wet nurse:

Theon's finger circled one heavy teat, spiraling in toward the fat brown nipple. … He took her nipple in his mouth….
"You can put it in me again, if it please you," she whispered in his ear as he sucked.

And finally, where Theon kisses the captain's daughter on the ear—

[Theon] drew the captain's daughter close and kissed her on her ear.

—Littlefinger kisses Grisel on the cheek:

Oswell and Lothor splashed their way ashore, as did Littlefinger himself. He gave the old woman a kiss on the cheek and grinned at the younger one.

Helya & Grisel (& Gretchel)

Grisel also rhymes with and reworks Helya, who keeps Balon's castle:

A bentback old crone in a shapeless grey dress approached him warily. "M'lord, I am sent to show you to chambers."
"And who are you?"
"Helya, who keeps this castle for your lord father."

Get it? "Helya and Grisel", a la "Hansel and Gretel".
(Gretel is a variant of "Greta". "Grisel" sounds like gristle, whereas in Hansel and Gretel the witch is trying to fatten Hansel up — she don't want no stringy meat! Note the thematic symmetry as well: By treating Hansel kindly and feeding him delicious treats, the witch is essentially "grooming" him for her own benefit/consumption, as Theon and Petyr groom the captain's daughter and Sansa, respectively, for their own benefit. Finally, note that "pebbles" are a key motif in Hansel and Gretel, prefiguring the proliferation of "pebbles" on Pyke, the 'rhyming' "pellets" on Petyr's Finger, and the isle of "Pebble" that leads to Petyr's Finger.)
The two "old" castle keepers neatly invert one another. Consider Grisel's comments about the old rushes and fire in Petyr's tower:

"If we knew you was coming we would have laid down fresh rushes, m'lord," said the crone. "There's a dung fire burning."
"Nothing says home like the smell of burning dung."

That's a recursive reversal of Helya's (lack of) preparation for Theon's visit: Where Grisel has a fire going even though she didn't know Petyr was coming, and where she proactively apologizes for not changing the rushes, telling him "we would have laid down fresh rushes… if we knew you were coming", Helya neither lit a fire nor changed the heavily foregrounded "old and brittle" rushes in the rooms Theon is given—

"I'll have a basin of hot water and a fire in this hearth," he told the crone. "See that they light braziers in the other rooms to drive out some of the chill. And gods be good, get someone in here at once to change these rushes."

—despite having ample forewarning of his coming:

It was not as though they had no word of his arrival. Robb had sent ravens from Riverrun, and… Jason Mallister had sent his own birds to Pyke….

The joke is underlined by the introduction of "Gretchel" — Gretel with a borrowed H from Helya/Hansel — who fetches washbasins of water (which, see below), "la[ys] a fire in the hearth" and "tend[s] to the fire", brings food and discusses food storage in Petyr's Eyrie in AFFC Sansa I & Alayne I. (In other words, she 'keeps his castle.')

'Rhyming' Interiors

That's just the beginning of the reversals in the many recursions between Theon's lodgings at Pyke and Sansa's in the Drearfort.
Where Helya leads Theon to his rooms on his orders—

"Show me to my chambers, woman," he commanded. Bowing stiffly, [Helya] led him across the headland to the bridge. …
Whenever he'd imagined his homecoming, he had always pictured himself returning to the snug bedchamber in the Sea Tower, where he'd slept as a child. Instead the old woman led him to the Bloody Keep.

—it's Petyr who leads the way into his tower, casually inviting Grisel (and everyone else) to follow him:

"If you like, m'lord," said the old woman Grisel.
Lord Petyr made a face. "Come, let's see if my hall is as dreary as I recall." He led them up the strand…

Petyr jokes about his hall being "dreary", and perhaps it is, but while it's "small" and "even smaller" within, his tower is also home to his servants, and hence very well lived-in.

Within, the tower seemed even smaller. An open stone stair wound round the inside wall, from undercroft to roof. Each floor was but a single room. The servants lived and slept in the kitchen at ground level, sharing the space with a huge brindled mastiff and a half-dozen sheep-dogs. Above that was a modest hall, and higher still the bedchamber.

(Note that the "mastiff", which we see as Petyr leads Grisel in, recalls Helya bowing "stiffly" before leading Theon to his rooms.)
This sharply reverses the situation Theon finds at Pyke, when he's deposited not in a single room shared by a bunch of people who've lived in it forever and warmed by a hearth with a burning fire, a la Sansa, nor in the "snug bedchamber" in the Sea Tower he'd anticipated (which sounds like Littlefinger's little "tower" by the sea), but in the Bloody Keep, in a whole-ass "suite" of large but "chilly", even "cold" rooms with incredibly high ceilings — rooms which haven't even been opened, much less lived-in, for "years", and which are the very definition of "dreary":

The halls here were larger and better furnished, if no less cold nor damp. Theon was given a suite of chilly rooms with ceilings so high that they were lost in gloom. [Omitted but see below.]
[Omitted but see below.] It was not fear of ghosts that made him glance about with distaste. The wall hangings were green with mildew, the mattress musty-smelling and sagging, the rushes old and brittle. Years had come and gone since these chambers had last been opened. The damp went bone deep. "I'll have a basin of hot water and a fire in this hearth," he told the crone. See that they light braziers in the other rooms to drive out some of the chill. And gods be good, get someone in here at once to change these rushes."

A ton of the motifs here (including the omitted stuff, which I'll return to) get recycled and reworked in Petyr's tower.
Most obviously, Theon's request for hot water prefigures Sansa's request for a hot bath:

"Might I have a hot bath as well?" asked Sansa.
"I'll have Kella draw some water, m'lady."

Note that Kella fulfills the request, not Grisel. This 'fits', as it's not Helya who brings Theon's water, but "two thralls".
Note also that Sansa requests her bath after thinking…

She desperately needed a bath and a change of clothes.

…whereas Theon changes his clothes immediately after the quoted passages.
Slightly less obviously, the "wall hangings [that] were green with mildew" are reworked by Petyr's own green 'wall hanging': his grandfather's shield, which is painted with a "light green field" and which "hung… above the hearth". The "mildew" is reworked by the fact that the paint is "cracked and flaking" i.e. flawed. And maybe also by the "light green field", since a field grows crops which get milled and which get dewy.

Brittle Bryen's Brigantine, Brindled Mastiff, & Old Blind Dog

As mentioned, the motif of unchanged rushes from Theon's homecoming recurs when Petyr comes home. But Petyr's homecoming also lexically riffs on Theon's rushes being quote-unquote "old and brittle" by giving us Bryen in "brigantine" who is very "old" but not, seemingly, brittle, as he still walks watches, not with his "old blind dog", but with a "brindled mastiff":

"It is good to have you home, my lord," said one old man. He looked to be at least eighty, but he wore a studded brigantine and a longsword at his side. …
"Bryen—didn't I name you captain of the guard the last time I was here?"
"You did, my lord. You said you'd be getting some more men too, but you never did. Me and the dogs stand all the watches."
Sansa found Bryen's old blind dog in her little alcove beneath the steps…
The servants lived and slept in the kitchen at ground level, sharing the space with a huge brindled mastiff and a half-dozen sheep-dogs.

Is the brindled dog a "mastiff" 'only' a wink at Theon going mast-stiff for Asha? (See Part 4.) Maybe. But it's worth mentioning that when Theon is first being stirred by Pyke's banner and it's being battered about like the shield we see in the Drearfort three sentences after the mastiff, it's also (a) flying from a very stiff "mast" and (b) juxtaposed with a very large 'dog' of sorts:

The banner streamed from an iron mast, shivering and twisting as the wind gusted like a bird struggling to take flight. And here at least the direwolf of Stark did not fly above, casting its shadow down upon the Greyjoy kraken.

Musty Old Mattresses

The old, "musty-smelling and sagging" mattress (in the chamber that has just been re-opened after long periods of being closed and uninhabited) from Theon's homecoming is answered in Petyr's homecomiong by Lysa, who arrives a few pages later in the chapter, eager to finally have sex again with Petyr. "Mattress" is slang for a sexually available woman (https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=mattress) and Lysa sags—

Lady Lysa was two years younger than Mother, but this woman looked ten years older. Thick auburn tresses fell down past her waist, but beneath the costly velvet gown and jeweled bodice her body sagged and bulged.

—and smells stale. (Note that Lysa is on a mattress here.)

Her aunt was drenched in sweet scent, though under that was a sour milky smell. Her cheek tasted of paint and powder.

Lysa's "cheek tast[ing] of paint and powder" riffs on the line about Theon's "distaste" and "fear of ghosts":

It was not fear of ghosts that made him glance about with distaste.

The distaste wordplay is obvious: Lysa tastes bad. As for the "fear of ghosts", Lysa (whom Sansa fears) being covered in "powder" reminds us of Sansa being afraid of a "spirit" covered in powdery flour:

When the spirit stepped out of the open tomb, pale white and moaning for blood, Sansa ran shrieking for the stairs…. Arya stood her ground and gave the spirit a punch. It was only Jon, covered with flour. (AGOT Arya IV)

This line—

The halls here were larger and better furnished, if no less cold nor damp.

—is reworked by Lysa as well, who is big and well-dressed ("better furnished", so to speak)—

[B]eneath the costly velvet gown and jeweled bodice her body sagged and bulged. Her face was pink and painted, her breasts heavy, her limbs thick. She was taller than Littlefinger, and heavier; nor did she show any grace in the clumsy way she climbed down off her horse.

—but cold to Sansa and horny/wet/"damp" for Petyr.
Given that Theon's rooms are in several ways like Lysa (newly 'open for business' after a long period of being closed and untouched by men, etc.), and pronouncing aunt like antler, we also might say that where the Lysa-like rooms are "cold" and "damp", Lysa herself is Sansa's "cold" aunt. Rhyming 'rhyming'.
That "years had come and gone since" the room with the Lysa-like mattress "had last been opened" is reworked not just by Lysa getting laid, but textually when Sansa is told Lysa is coming to the Drearfort (where she is 're-opened', so to speak):

It had been years since Sansa last saw her mother's sister…"

I wonder whether Lysa crying and speaking to Sansa of being "bound by blood" to her—

Tears welled suddenly in Lady Lysa's eyes. "We are women alone now, you and I. Are you afraid, child? Be brave. I would never turn away Cat's daughter. We are bound by blood."

—might not be in part a play on the fact that "the damp went bone deep" in the Bloody Keep. By saying that, Sansa's damp (i.e. crying) aunt "went bone deep", so to speak. (If you're "bound by blood" to someone, you have a "bone deep" bond with them. Also, bone → bound wordplay?)

Braziers → Bracing?

Did Theon's attempt to drive away "the chill" and damp of the salty sea air of Pyke using "braziers"—

See that they light braziers in the other rooms to drive out some of the chill.

—inform (via wordplay: braziers → bracing) Petyr's line when the Merling King pulls up to the Drearfort?

Lord Petyr came up beside her, cheerful as ever. "Good morrow. The salt air is bracing, don't you think? It always sharpens my appetite."

And/or is that "sharpening" motif a recursion of Theon sharpening his dirk immediately after said braziers are lit?

After some time, they brought the hot water he had asked for. … While two thralls lit his braziers, Theon stripped off his travel-stained clothing and dressed to meet his father. … He hung a dirk at one hip and a longsword at the other…. Drawing the dirk, he … pulled a whetstone from his belt pouch, and gave it a few licks. He prided himself on keeping his weapons sharp.

Gods Be Good!

The motifs of Theon yelling "gods be good" at his servant and of "ceilings so high that they were lost in gloom" are recursively reworked when Lysa summons Sansa (like a servant) to speak with her the morning after she weds Petyr. Sansa responds to the summons by thinking, verbatim, "gods be good", and is then told they'll be heading to the Eyrie, which we know is "so high you can stand on the parapets and look down on the clouds", i.e. it has parapets 'so high that they were lost in the clouds':

Lady Lysa was still abed [like a good mattress!], but Lord Petyr was up and dressed. "Your aunt wishes to speak with you," he told Sansa, as he pulled on a boot. "I've told her who you are."
Gods be good. "I . . . I thank you, my lord."
Petyr yanked on the other boot. "I've had about as much home as I can stomach. We'll leave for the Eyrie this afternoon."
Seven towers, Ned had told her, like white daggers thrust into the belly of the sky, so high you can stand on the parapets and look down on the clouds. (AGOT Catelyn VI)

The notion of a "ceiling" so high it is lost in gloom is perhaps also reworked by the story Lysa tells Sansa about Petyr's "rise" to power: She says she "always knew how high [Petyr would] rise", and it's my belief that said rise has likely seen him 'lost', spiritually, in 'darkness'. (Note that ceilings are a frequently invoked metaphor when talking about climbing the corporate ladder.)

"Half his teeth were gone, and his breath smelled like bad cheese. I cannot abide a man with foul breath. Petyr's breath is always fresh . . . he was the first man I ever kissed, you know. My father said he was too lowborn, but I knew how high he'd rise. Jon gave him the customs for Gulltown to please me, but when he increased the incomes tenfold my lord husband saw how clever he was and gave him other appointments, even brought him to King's Landing to be master of coin. That was hard, to see him every day and still be wed to that old cold man.

(Recall that the motif of bad/fresh breath there reworks the "winey stench of the old man's [Sylas Sourmouth's] breath", which Theon thinks about roughly ¼ page prior to being shown his suite in the Bloody Keep.)

Butchered Sons & Brothers

Lysa continues to rant:

"Jon did his duty in the bedchamber, but he could no more give me pleasure than he could give me children. His seed was old and weak. All my babies died but Robert, three girls and two boys. All my sweet little babies dead, and that old man just went on and on with his stinking breath. So you see, I have suffered too." Lady Lysa sniffed. "You do know that your poor mother is dead?"
"Tyrion told me," said Sansa. "He said the Freys murdered her at The Twins, with Robb."

Those references to (a) a bunch of dead "babies", including two brothers, one of which was "murdered" when Lysa's father, Hoster Tully, who ruled the Riverlands, betrayed Lysa's trust; and to (b) foul smelling breath, a la Sylas, and finally to (c) the Red Wedding — a bloody betrayal of Sansa's brother, who was King of the Riverlands — particularly (per Sansa saying "Tyrion told me") as it's described by Tyrion—

Sansa did not need to hear how her brother's body had been hacked and mutilated, he decided; nor how her mother's corpse had been dumped naked into the Green Fork in a savage mockery of House Tully's funeral customs. (ASOS Tyrion VII)

—are one of the ways ASOS Sansa VI rejiggers the part of Theon's description of his Bloody Keep suite I "[omitted]" earlier, which entails betrayals, murdered brothers, a River King, slaughter, and bodies "hacked to bits".

[Theon] might have been more impressed if he had not known that these were the very chambers that had given the Bloody Keep its name. A thousand years before, the sons of the River King had been slaughtered here, hacked to bits in their beds so that pieces of their bodies might be sent back to their father on the mainland.
But Greyjoys were not murdered in Pyke except once in a great while by their brothers, and his brothers were both dead.

Lysa's speech with its reference to her abortion and to the Red Wedding (and to stink-breath like Sylas's) isn't the only (or even the main) way Petyr's homecoming chapter refracts those images from Theon's homecoming, though.
Littlefinger is himself a kind of River King (as Lord Paramount of the Trident), right? And note that we read all about his "slaughtered" "sons" just before he enters the tower, wherein we then see the foul betrayers who murdered their 'brothers'. I'm talking, of course, about his sheep and his sheepdogs:

"How many sheep do I have at present, Kella?"
… "Three and twenty, m'lord. There was nine and twenty, but Bryen's dogs killed one and we butchered some others and salted down the meat."
"Ah, cold salt mutton. I must be home.…" … "Come, let's see if my hall is as dreary as I recall." … A handful of sheep were wandering about the base of the flint tower…. …
Within, the tower seemed even smaller. An open stone stair wound round the inside wall, from undercroft to roof. Each floor was but a single room. The servants lived and slept in the kitchen at ground level, sharing the space with a huge brindled mastiff and a half-dozen sheep-dogs.

Note the kitchen, recalling that the Bloody Keep is paired with the Kitchen Keep as Theon first gazes on Pyke:

Farther out were the Kitchen Keep and the Bloody Keep, each on its own island.

Note, too, that the sheep are coded as Petyr's "sons", in a way (a la the "slaughtered… sons of the River King" Theon remembers in his Bloody Tower rooms), and not just because he owns them. He says that Kella has lots of bastards and that she minds his sheep, right? And what else does he say of Kella, in jest? That she 'is' the "mother" of his "daughter," "Alayne Stone":

"Alayne . . . Stone, would it be?" When he nodded, she said, "But who is my mother?"
"Kella?"
"Please no," she said, mortified.
"I was teasing.

The joke foregrounds the notion of Petyr as the father of Kella's children. And while she supposedly has a bunch of bastards, we don't see them. We just see the one girl with the livestock-evoking eye with a sty. It's almost like the sheep she looks after are her children. And thus like Petyr is their father.
(Note the word "mortified". This points straight back to Theon in his Bloody Tower for two reasons: First, greyscale, which mortifies the flesh, killed Balon's brother Harlon, who died "in a windowless tower room" at Pyke. Second: Theon will, in his next chapter, be truly mortified by the realization that "Esgred" is his sister Asha, where that masquerade in turn prefigures Sansa masquerading as Alayne.)
So the "cold" Bloody Keep with its partner the Kitchen Keep and its story of a "slaughter", betrayal, brother killing brother, a River King's sons' bodies "hacked to bits in their beds" — all these motifs are reworked by Kella's account of one of Lord Paramount Petyr's sheep-'sons' being killed by its lexicial 'brothers', the very "sheep-dogs" who were supposed to guard it, and of other sheep-'sons' being verbatim "butchered", i.e. slaughtered on a killing bed and in the process surely hacked into pieces that were then preserved against spoilage for future consumption, such that the resulting "cold salt mutton" could be used as travel rations. Which jibes with Theon's language, creatively interpreted:

[T]he sons of the River King had been slaughtered here, hacked to bits in their beds so that pieces of their bodies might be sent back to their father on the mainland.

(They were slaughtered and hacked to bits only so as to properly preserve them against spoilage during their upcoming journey "back to their father on the mainland", you see!)

Theon's Honor Guard

The conditions in Theon's rooms are consistent with the cold welcome he receives, both from Aeron—

The priest's manner was chilly, most unlike the man Theon remembered.

—and Balon—

Theon pulled off his gloves. "… Why is my father not here to greet me?"
"He awaits you in the Sea Tower, m'lord. When you are rested from your trip."
And I thought Ned Stark cold.

—and they're thus part of a broad yin/yang 'rhyme' with Petyr's initial homecoming, which is warm and welcoming and full of familiar faces, whereas Theon knows no one, such that he thinks:

It is as if I were a stranger here….

The reversal is wryly underlined when Petyr is greeted at the shore by his "captain of the guards", Bryen:

"It is good to have you home, my lord," said one old man.

Thus Petyr ironically gets the "honor guard" welcome Theon hoped he'd get on his arrival 'home':

[Theon] saw… no honor guard waiting to escort him from Lordsport to Pyke, only smallfolk going about their small business.

Notice that where no one stops what they're doing for Theon, everyone stops when Petyr arrives. And of course, everyone in his household recognizes him, whereas no one recognizes Theon. Which is telling, because in a deep sense, that's all Theon really wants, deep down: a little recognition.
Littlefinger has it… but it's not enough.

(SUB)SERIES CONCLUDES IN PART 10: Oswell & Aeron; Lothar & Dagmer; The Closing Twist