I also got into Hollow Knight. Though I didn't publish as many fics.
After Tallstar's death, he is sent to an unnamed place where clanless cats go, as punishment. But, he gets to be with Jake forever (r/AccidentalAlly lol)
So yeah, this is a thing. I'll try to update every other Sunday. This chapter's kinda short, and also might have some grammar errors.
A light.
He was surrounded by darkness, save for one light.
The tall, black and white tom stepped forward, and emerged into StarClan. Tallstar looked around. He saw no one. All he saw was a tangled forest, with a little light filtering down from between the trees. But, when he looked up, all he could see was darkness. As he stared up, confused, Tallstar heard a voice behind him, achingly, painfully familiar, filling him with joy. "Talltail?" Turning, Tallstar saw him. The thick-furred ginger tom with bright green eyes, and a collar around his neck. "Jake?" Tallstar could barely speak through his joy. How had Jake made it into StarClan? The two toms rushed at each other, purring and nuzzling and licking each other. Finally, Jake could speak again. "What are you doing here?"
"Here?" Tallstar asked, confused. "In StarClan? How are you here?" Jake looked surprised. "Oh, this isn't StarClan," he said. Tallstar recoiled in surprise. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"This is where housecats- kittypets- and rogues and loners go." Jake replied. "That's why I was surprised to see you. Did your leader exile you?"
"No, no!" Tallstar purred. "No, I was made deputy. I was a leader." Jake purred proudly, twining his soft tail around Tallstar's. "How… Did I get here?" Tallstar asked himself.
"Because you broke the code, Talltail." a stern voice said cooly. Turning, Tallstar recognised the pink-grey she-cat, that stood a few tail-lengths off the ground. "Heatherstar?" he said nervously.
"I did not know of this in life. Only in StarClan do I learn that you, the warrior I thought was most loyal, loved a kittypet and a tom." Jake edged closer to Tallstar as he stared up at Heatherstar, into her fathomless blue eyes. "Who is this, Tallstar?" he asked nervously. "What is she talking about?"
"Your love broke the code you swore to follow, and that has sent you here." Heatherstar began to fade into nothingness, her cold stare fixed on Tallstar. "Reflect on that, as you wander." Tallstar stared at where Heatherstar had been, shocked. He and Jake sat in silence for a moment, before Jake burst out purring. "What's so funny?" Tallstar asked.
"Well- it's not much of a punishment, is it?" Jake replied. "'You loved a tom, now as punishment, you get to spend eternity with him'."
"But… my family…"
Jake's tone turned sympathetic. "They were willing to exile you from StarClan. I don't think you should miss them." Tallstar… no, Talltail knew he was right. That now, he was a resident of this place full of rogues. But, as Jake had said…
Now he could spend an eternity with the cat he loved.
August 13th, 1992
Dear diary...
CW: Swearing and suicide mention.
August 13th, 1992
Dear diary,
It's been a while, huh.
You know, I really thought that my last entry was going to be just that- my last entry. I thought I was going to die. I… wanted to die.
Then I thought the diary had been destroyed in the explosion. Imagine my shock when I get a call from my parents, saying the staff found it.
But I wanted to update it, give whoever's reading it (weirdo, who the fuck's reading a seventeen-year-old's diary) closure beyond "welp, guess she's dead."
I should probably tell you what's happened.
It's been three years. Three normal, quiet years.
I'm going to college now. Never thought I'd make it, but here we are.
I also never thought I'd be best friends with a Heather, but after I saved helped got to know Heather M, she's not bad. Pretty nice, actually. She and Martha get along surprisingly well.
Martha…
Apparently she's going to need mobility aids for the rest of her life, whether that be crutches or a wheelchair. It sucks, but I'm happy to help her. Compared to what… could have happened… I'm glad she's okay.
Duke seems to be getting better. I still wouldn't call us friends, and I don't know if she and Mac are on friendly terms anymore, but she does seem to be trying to be nicer.
Me, Martha and Heather Mac have kinda been a friend group for the last three years. Go figure.
But even after all this time…
After what he did…
I miss him.
It's hard reading back through the diary… reliving it all…
No one knows yet. Except me.
I know Chandler, Kurt and Ram weren't really my fault. He tricked me, I didn't want them dead.
That's a lie. I did. But not enough to murder them.
I'm just scared Martha and Heather will be mad. Martha loved Ram, and Heather was close to Chandler and Kurt. If they find out I… killed them… I don't know what they'd do.
It's funny… the news published J.D's death as another teen suicide. Made it out to be this tragic case. His dad bolted, never seen him since. But no one really knew him except me, and I didn't bring that up when the news crews came to ask who knew Jason Dean. Because I don't know what I would have had to say. "I don't really have many kind words about him, he poisoned one classmate and shot two others, before trying to blow up Westerberg High, only changing his mind because I shot him."
I'm taking a course in psychology. Going to try being a therapist. Tons of kids out there, miniature J.Ds, Marthas, Heather Macs… god knows everyone at Westerberg could have used the help.
I want to show the world that everyone, no matter how damaged or frightened, can be beautiful.
-Veronica Sawyer
Jade Mountain gets a therapist
Seriously, why didn't they have one of these from the start.
The echo of talonsteps on stone filled the cave as Mellow entered, looking around. It was quite spacious, with a few shelves and no windows, and it was secluded from the rest of the school. "Do you like it?" the golden dragon that had been introduced as Sunny asked.
"It'll do nicely." Mellow replied, setting down the sack they'd brought. "I'd love to meet some of the students first, of course."
Sunny grinned. "Of course! We were actually planning to have an assembly to introduce you to the school, if that's alright."
"Of course. When would it be?"
"Midday, during the announcements." Mellow looked through the one window. It was maybe half an hour until noon. Sunny stepped into the hallway. "Well, I'll leave you to unpack! Bye!"
As her footsteps faded out of Mellow's hearing, they tipped their sack up, haphazardly spilling various cushions, blankets and toys across the cave floor. They'd had the job explained to them- counsellor for Jade Mountain Academy, a job that it became obvious was needed after all the drama around dragons with trauma from the war. Mellow wasn't quite sure why this hadn't been a position from the beginning. They also knew the vague age range- mostly three to six year old dragonets- but they also knew how much it could help to have something nice to hold or fiddle with in a stressful situation. They began to arrange the blankets and cushions around the room, making it as comfortable as they could. Finally, Mellow arranged some of the toys in a basket, and placed it on one of the shelves. Then, because of how it took a little while to get into the main school, they set off back along the tunnel.
Rattail was having a bad time the moment she stepped into the school.
The NightWing by the door was too enthusiastic, she got lost twice trying to find her cave, and her clawmate wasn't there yet, plus she had a headache and her leg and back were hurting and she felt very, very overwhelmed and like she might just start crying, especially if her clawmate had anything to do with the war, which chances were they would (seriously, Rattail had done the maths. Disadvantages of being stuck on Blister's side). So when a gong rang out through the school and made her jump out of her scales, she was barely keeping it together as she followed the flow of where it seemed like everyone was going, which was into a massive cave with a raised platform where a group of dragons were standing. "First things first, welcome!" one, a deep blue SeaWing said as soon as it seemed like everyone was there. "I'm Tsunami, the headteacher here, for the several of you that are new. We have some announcements, mostly for the benefit of our less recently arrived students. First; some clawmates have been shuffled around. I'm sure most of you noticed this. I'd announce who we've paired up, but in total honesty, I forgot."
Excellent headteacher material. Rattail though to herself as Tsunami continued. "Second; We have a new member of staff joining us." She gestured to a ruddy, pinkish-red SkyWing. "This is Mellow. We thought after certain… events last year that perhaps a counsellor was in order, so we've hired them to, I dunno, do counsellor stuff. Uh. That's it, that's basically everything new." Tsunami stepped back and a blindfolded NightWing took her place, and began reading off a list. Rattail didn't really hear. There was just so many dragons, and it was loud and hot but also cold, and she didn't know any of these dragons and didn't really want to, and chances were her clawmate would hate her or think her heatpacks or anxiety was annoying and then suddenly she realised she hadn't breathed in a really long time and there were black spots at the edge of her vision and everything was blurry and her face was wet.
Then suddenly the crowd of dragons was parting and someone was talking with a talon on her shoulder- just breathe, she was safe, it was all fine, she just needed to calm down, deep breaths, and the voice was so calmly authoritative Rattail couldn't help but do what whoever it was was saying. "There. Okay. Are you alright?" Rattail wasn't quite sure how to answer, so just kind of shook her head. "Okay. How can we fix that?"
"Outside." Rattail managed to say hoarsely. The talon on her shoulder gently guided her through the door and into the hallway. She leaned up against a wall, taking deep breaths.
"Is that better?" Rattail looked over at the source of the voice, and recognised the SkyWing Tsunami had introduced as Mellow. Rattail nodded, and wiped the tears off her face. Now she mostly felt embarrassed. She'd freaked out in front of the entire school, over what? Practically nothing. "Good. Do you need anything?"
Rattail went through the list of remaining problems. "I'd… like to go back to my cave." she said. "My, um. My heatpacks are there." Mercifully, Mellow didn't ask questions. They just kept close to Rattail as she tried to remember where her room was. She finally found it, and dug through her haphazardly unpacked stuff to find the heatpacks. She debated also grabbing the hot waterskin but realised it would be too much effort. Instead, she breathed fire onto the bags of sand, and placed one on the middle of her back and one on her hind leg. Mellow watched this with interest. "What are those for?" they asked.
"They, um. Help with pain." Rattail muttered in reply.
"Do you mind telling me more?"
"I, um. Was in a battle against a troop of IceWings. Got frostbreath on my back and leg, damaged the nerves. Never really recovered right." Rattail said nervously. It wasn't one of the "cool" injury stories a lot of dragons seemed to have. She didn't even have a glamorous scar. She just had a patch of warped, discoloured scales. "That sounds dreadful!" Mellow replied. They seemed to think about something, before sighing. "You know, when I first heard about this school, I didn't think it was such a good idea. I thought, 'Putting a bunch of dragonet soldiers in a class and telling them to just be friends? Recipe for disaster'. Which was a correct prediction. It was after actually hearing the details, however, that I realised it wasn't just kids holding grudges. Scars aren't always physical, and some dragons didn't need to be put in a class with a family member's murderer to have a lot of negative feelings about other tribes. All these kids had known was war, and I don't know why the dragonets of destiny hadn't predicted that." Mellow seemed to remember where they were. "Oh- I shouldn't have dumped all that on you. You're still recovering."
"No, no!" Rattail replied. "It… was nice. It made sense of a lot of things, actually."
Mellow smiled, before looking around the cave. "Did you not get a clawmate?"
"I didn't see them." Rattail replied, slightly bitterly.
"If you don't mind me leaving, I could tell the other faculty to send them here afterwards." Mellow said. "You seem like you could use a support network."
Rattail nodded in gratitude. "Should I… go back with you?"
"Do you want to?"
Rattail didn't need to think about her answer. "No."
"Then, no, you don't. You had a panic attack, making you go back into a stressful environment is an incredibly harmful idea." Mellow stepped out of the cave. "But if you want to talk more, my cave is up the north passage."
"Thanks." Rattail called after them. Maybe this school wasn't so bad after all.
Jaysplash is a trans lesbian Smokebreeze is bi because I said so Jaysplash smelling like fennel is inspired by this -> https://www.tumblr.com/bonefall/703400669595516928/herb-guide-to-hrt-for-warrior-cats Tumblr post.
Jaysplash bounded into the river, swimming easily. She squeaked in surprise as Smokebreeze leapt from the rocky shore, landing on top of her. The two mollies were tangled up for a moment, before Jaysplash managed to surface, paddling confidently. Smokebreeze stood, the water only up to the middle of her legs, dripping wet. "You know, of all the things I miss about ThunderClan, it's the lack of pressure to swim." Smokebreeze muttered, shaking her long dark pelt.
"We don't have to swim if you don't want to." Jaysplash said instantly. She clambered over to Smokebreeze, flopping on the rocks.
"You smell nice." Smokebreeze observed.
"It's the fennel." Jaysplash replied matter-of-fact-ly. Smokebreeze purred as Jaysplash added, "You smell nice." Smokebreeze pulled a few flowers out of the grass and began weaving them together. Sure, Jaysplash already had four wreaths, but no one could have too many flowers all over them. Marigolds. Pretty. Like Jaysplash. "You know," Smokebreeze said as she deftly wove stems together. "Marigolds represent strength?"
"Really?" Jaysplash replied.
"Yes. They also represent the light inside a person." Smokebreeze finished the wreath and dropped it over Jaysplash's head, the yellow marigolds mingling with the purple flowers already wrapped around Jaysplash's sleek silver fur. Jaysplash nuzzled Smokebreeze. "I love you." she said.
"Love you too."
The player wanted to thank Niko for what they'd done for them.
Based on the author's actual experience playing Oneshot.
Yeah I dunno I just want to say this to Niko because I love them (platonically) so so much just s do gksjdjsjfndndnsjsndbs
Niko found themself in a big, dark place. Not completely dark, more like dark grey. Looking around, they could see a bright, glowing figure. They were tall, clearly several years older than Niko, and horned, with a halo. The person looked up. "Hi, Niko."
Recognizing their voice, Niko gasped. "Cait-"
They winced. "It's, uh, not that. I changed it. Didn't fit. It's Azrael."
"Azrael," Niko corrected themself. "I thought you were gone!"
"I am." Azrael said. "I just… wanted to say some things. This is just a dream, I just... yeah."
"Oh. Okay."
Azrael took a deep breath. "Have you ever cared about someone so much it hurt? Like, whenever you think about them you feel this fierce love for them?"
"I don't… think so, no." Niko replied.
Azrael smiled, their large dark eyes glistening. "Well, uh. It's how I feel about you. You're so nice , and kind, and every time I made you feel embarrassed or sad or scared I felt so bad because I didn't mean to do that, because I don't want you to feel like that. Half the time I thought something would be funny, like when I said to do a robot voice, I didn't realise there was a robot there." Azrael took another deep breath, their voice wavering. "Uh. Remember when you found out it was a game, and you asked me if it was true and I said no?"
"Yeah?"
"I wasn't trying to sugarcoat it or lie or anything. I said it was real, because… it was real to me. I, um. I really like going to other worlds and helping people. I do it as often as I can. And every time I come away caring so, so much about the world and the people. Even if the world's just a simulation, it feels real. The things I feel feel real." Azrael was crying now. They (he? Something about them was very he.) still had a smile on his face, though, as he continued. "And… I just wanted you to know that… that no matter what happens, somewhere out there, I really, really care about you."
Niko didn't know what to say. They just leapt forward and hugged Azrael. He curled around them like a crescent moon, glittering tears splashing on the floor of the big grey room. "Thank you for everything."
Niko felt a tap on their shoulder. Their mother stood over them with a small smile. Did you have a nice dream? she signed. Niko nodded happily, following their mama downstairs.
Pretty hard to talk to your friends when they're all called Heather.
Has some implied Duke/Sawyer because yes I like Veronica with Mac or Duke either is amazing.
CW for Period typical homophobia, implied eating disorder and Heather Chandler being a mythic bitch, as always.
Veronica tapped a foot on the cafeteria floor absentmindedly. Being friends with the Heathers wasn't nearly as glamorous as she'd thought. Mostly it involved saying their full names whenever she needed to refer to them. It felt a little strange. She was a Heather, but wasn't… called Heather. She was Veronica, or, depending on how angry Heather Chandler was, "VERONICAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
"Hey, uh," Veronica said. The Heathers looked at her with respective expressions of disinterest and actual curiosity. "Have you ever come up with… nicknames for each other?"
"No. Why?" Heather Chandler asked, as Heather MacNamara started to say "Sometimes people call me Heather Mac, if… that… counts…" before trailing off as Heather Chandler gave her a death glare.
"It just… seems impractical. How do you tell which Heather anyone's talking about?" Veronica said.
"You just do." Heather Chandler examined her perfect scarlet nails. "Are you struggling, Veronica?"
"I mean, you're all called Heather. Of course I can't tell you apart just by first name." Heather Chandler was giving her that look again. That look that made Veronica feel small and worthless.
"I don't mind having a nickname!" Heather MacNamara said.
"Heather." Heather Chandler said warningly.
"What?" Heather Mac replied. "It's not like it does any harm. We'd still be Heathers."
"I'd be up for it." Heather Duke spoke up. She'd been silent the whole time they'd been sat down for lunch, having skipped the lunch line by not getting lunch at all.
"Well." Heather Chandler tossed her mane of hair. "If that's agreed, then you can use nicknames."
"Okay! Hm…" Heather Mac scrunched up her face delicately.
Suddenly the best and worst idea Veronica had ever had came to mind. "Mac 'n Cheese."
Now all three Heathers were looking at her with the same expression of mild distaste. "What? She wears yellow. Mac 'n cheese is yellow. She's Heather Mac already."
"Does it count as a nickname if it's longer than your real name?" Heather Mac wondered.
"Hm. You have a point." Heather Chandler seemed to go as red as her blazer at the lack of consulting her. "Um… maybe… just Mac?"
Heather Mac seemed to think about this. "Sure! That works!" she said chirpily. "Mac!"
"Duke." Heather Duke said, again making Veronica jump with her sudden speech.
"What?" Heather Chandler wheeled on her, spitting the word venomously.
"If she's Mac, then I can be Duke." For once, Duke seemed to be completely ready to challenge Heather. And for once, Heather Chandler backed down. "Fine. They both make you sound like dykes, but whatever." Mac flinched a little as Heather stood up. "I'm done." She marched off imperiously, clearly expecting the others to follow. Veronica, Duke and Mac didn't stand up, though. "Duke, huh?" Veronica said.
"Yes." Duke replied defensively. "What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing! I like it!" Veronica replied. "It sounds tough."
"Hmph." Duke turned away, but Veronica could tell she was flattered. "Do you get a nickname?" Mac asked.
"I guess, sure." Veronica replied. "I mean, my name's already different, but still."
"Hm..." Mac again hummed delicately, thinking pretty hard. "Veronica, Veronica..."
"Chainsaw." Duke said.
"What?" Veronica and Mac chorused.
"Saw like Sawyer. Chainsaw because you're loud and can cut people to shreds if you want."
"What? No..." Veronica replied, a little self conscious.
"Come on, Sawyer, we all saw that stunt with Ram and Kurt." Duke said.
"I mean... Yeah." Mac added, nodding.
"Chainsaw is a pretty cool name." Veronica conceded. "Maybe just Saw?"
"Mac, Duke and Saw. I like it!" Mac jumped as Heather Chandler slammed her hand into the table.
"Are you three done gossiping?"
"Sorry, Heather." Mac and Duke both said. Veronica stood quietly, following the Heathers out of the room.
Five Pebbles has thoughts and feelings about the slugcat living in his city
i finished artificer like a month ago and ive been thinking of this since then i just never actually wrote it. i dunno i just think its sweet to have five pebbles come to care about the artificer, plus it's never clear what happens to them after they kill the chieftain scav.
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 13676764323
A second creature has come through my superstructure, somewhat like the pitiful thing that Seven Red Suns sent to harass me further. This one bore no mark, though. Odd- I had thought Suns had created their messenger as a purposed organism, as opposed to utilising a wild creature.
It also had a citizen ID drone- how, I am unsure. I am, of course, unable to carry out violent actions against my citizens, even if they are tiny animals. I sent it to deal with the scavenger infestation in my city. Overseer footage makes me conclude it was successful.
I have chosen to let it be. It is a citizen, after all.
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 13676764376, Log 1 In Category "The Citizen"
I spent a little time watching the new citizen this cycle. It’s rather intelligent- not just able to pick up sharp bits of metal and throw them, it can create somewhat complex devices. Generally explosive weaponry, but regardless, it’s quite impressive for such a small thing.
It has taken to wearing the scavenger chieftain’s mask around, despite it being far too large for it. It seems an impractical decision but I suppose it can’t be that smart.
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 13676764430 , Log 2 In Category "The Citizen"
I decided to see if the citizen would eat Rot.
Results were very conclusive: It would not.
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 13676764451 , Log 3 In Category "The Citizen"
I left it some broken parts I had no need for. It made more explosives, naturally, but nonetheless more complicated ones than the ones it had previously made.
If not for the obvious destruction it would wreak on my components, I would set it loose in my southeast sector.
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 136767643476, Log 4 In Category "The Citizen"
The citizen hardly left its den today. I am unsure as to why. Perhaps it was ill?
It is a fairly helpful asset in keeping the scavengers in check. I will be keeping a closer eye on it to be sure it makes a swift recovery.
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 136767643486, Log 5 In Category "The Citizen"
I left my citizen a dead lizard outside its den, so that it can recover from its illness more easily. It seems better, though still reclusive, and though normally it would be wandering the city for hours, it went back to its den not long after its meal.
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 136767643493, Log 6 In Category "The Citizen"
My citizen remains withdrawn, though it seems perfectly healthy. I cannot calculate a reason as to why.
I wonder… is it unhappy?
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 136767643500, Log 7 In Category "The Citizen"
The sunset this evening was very striking. I found a route up a tower with an Overseer, and led my citizen up. It stayed there for hours.
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 136767643503, Log 8 In Category "The Citizen"
I left my citizen more scrap metal. They brought it to their den but haven’t done anything with it yet. I am actually quite excited to see what they do with it.
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 136767643504, Log 9 In Category "The Citizen"
They came to my General Systems Bus with a pearl. They must have wanted me to read it, but it was nothing more than plans for organic waste processing. At least, the part I could read was; my citizen had wrapped some portions in metal and attached it to a wire, alongside several blank and broadcast pearls. Could they have been trying to build a device to read them themselves?
The coloured pearl’s colour is quite close to some of mine. And the scavengers gather pearls by the hundreds. My citizen’s mask has eleven strung from it.
Could this be… a gift?
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 136767643507, urgency overriding category
The Rot is getting ̧al҉ar̕min͏gly͏ ͟clos̡e ̢t̶o my̛ ̷Me̴mo̡ry Conflux. I will move the most important logs I have created to pearls and transfer them into my chamber, so that I will not lose too ̛m҉uc͏h if I͝ ͡d̷o҉n͝'t̵ s̢t̢òp̶ the ̢Rot̡ ̷ìn time.
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 136767643508, urgency overriding category
The͢re̢'͡s͝ ̴s͡ome͢t̛h҉ing̡ wrong i̧n͟ my̡ ͠M҉emo̸r̶y Conf̵lu͞x. I̷ ̀a͠w̷áit ̵t̸he̵ ҉report͝ f͡r̀o͢m ̵m͟y insp̡e͞ct͠ors͝.
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 136767643508, urgency overriding category
Ţ̴͞ḩ̸͏e̡̨͟r̴̵e's̵ s̕͢͞o̷̧m͠e̸̛t̸͝hį̷ņ͏̧g͟ ̛̕͡w̶rǫ͟ng ̢i̶n ̴̷͡ḿ̵y͢͠ ̸͠Me͏̡mor͝y̛͟͞ ̛Cońf̧̕l̵̀u҉x̸̴.̢͡ ̀I̢̧ ̛͏̛à̧w̡a̧͠i͢t͡ ̧̢t̀h͡e̶̸ r̢e̢p̕o͢r̶̛͝t̸͢ ̴f́ŗo͝m̴̶̶ ̛͡m̵ỳ̵ ìn̡̡s̢̢p̨͢e̷c̢͢t͏o̕r̸s.
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 136767643508, urgency overriding category
Ţ͟h̨̢è̴̴҉r̴̡̡͡e̶͢͠͏͢'͏̡͟͢ś̴ ̴̵̧̢͡ş̛͞͏o̶̶̧͟m͡҉҉̕e̵̶͡͞t̵̡͠h̢̛͞͡i̧̛͏ń̴͢͡ǵ̨͠ ҉̢w̵̧͡͝r̴̶̡͠͝o͝͡n҉̷̛̕g̷̸̕ ̡҉į̀̕n̢ ̡̛m̢̧ý̢́͡͞ ̢͝Ḿè͠͡m͟͝͡͠͝ò̕͟͡r҉͏ý̸̢ ҉̸C̀ó̵͢͞n̶͏̶̛f̨̛́͠͞l̡ừ̢̡͞x͢҉.͝͏̀̀͟ ̧̛I̡̧ ͠͠a̷̶̢̡͠w̡a͏̷̡i̢͢҉t͟҉̶͡ ͟͞҉́ţ͠͝҉h̶͟҉͢e̶͡҉͠ ̷̵̧̛͢r͟͠e͏̷͝͞͠p̶̸̸̕͝ò͟͏͡ŗ̵̢͞͠t̷̸̶́͝ ̵f̡̢̛ŕ̷̡o̴̢̨m̵̀̕ ̸̡̛m̢̛̕y̢̧͢͞͡ ͏҉i̶͟͠͠n̷̵͟s̀̕̕͝p̵̸̡͞e̷͞c̀͠͝͝t̶̴̡͡͡o̸̴r̕͢͠͠s̛҉.̴̀͠͏
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 136767643508, urgency overriding category
Ţ̛̛̤̦̯̦͔̘̭̹̥͈̘̫̰͓̲̪̤̼̠̕͡ḩ̸̤̮͉͕̮̙̙̪̦̥͔̟͕̠͖͞ḛ̸̵̥̬͓̠̜̝͈̰r̶͡͏̴͖̲̜̗̝̤͉̝̱͍è̸̟̣̜̦̞̻͎̟̖͖͟ͅ'҉͟͠҉͓͇̙̰̱̞̘̟ͅs̡͞͠҉̙͇̼̝̯͇͍̳̥̩̠̭̟̫͔̳̣ ̡̗͕͎̖͉̤̼͟ͅs̷̨̱̥͎̝͔̝̞͓͔̤͖̦͍̹̜̝̟̙̝͡o̷̫̜̜̦̘̜̹͓̮͇̘͎͡m̸̷̬̩̤͎e͢҉̧̡̼̠͖̳͖͖͍͈̙̩̮͍̫̱̝̜̀ͅͅͅt̴̲̖̲̯̘̪h̢̲̟̘̦̞̬̩͖̟͉̹̯̪̳͞i͏̰͓͈̯̙͓̳̦͔͈̖̠̲̦̰̥̤̝́ǹ̼̙̯͎̻̲̪͞g̴̙̠͔̮̙̹̖̖̟̜̣̲͖̲̠̕͟ ̸̥̩̗̲̯̩͓̠͕̘̕͞w̴̢̤̳̫̯̖͈̳̜͇̦̹̠̱̮͠͠ͅͅr͡҉͡͏͈̠̙̼̳̣̞ͅọ̬͈̼̬͠͞ǹ̼̲̳̪̤̻̠̮̮͈͓̦͍͟͠g̨̲̗͖͓̘͔̦̗̼̦̙ͅ ̷̰͉̮͝i̵̛̦̮͖̭͕̰͉͈̘̮̟͞ͅń̶̶̸̟̭̥̮̻͍͍̟̞̟̟̀ͅͅͅ ͔̻͇͖͓̫̮͉̲̯̖̹͕̕͢͡ḿ̹̖̠̱̳͎͓̹̮̫̠̣̟̤̖̪̳̰y̧͉̲̠̥̹͔̳̫͈̼͢ ̴̫͓̟͕̪͔̬̜̪̮͓͓͉̥̖̦̞͔͟M̸̢̠͖̪͉͇̠͎̞̣̥̱̙̙̫ͅé̸̻͈̗̻̯͉̣̰̻̭͈̘̱͖̰͖͉̩͔͢͠m̶̴̪͎̘̜͍̻͇̦̪̹̱̘͢͞o̸̴͎̮̲̪͠͞r̴҉҉͎̠͎̻ͅy̶̡̪̰͍̠̩ ̸̧̨̧̪̲̳͇̟̮̥͕̱̖̣̪̥͕̬̗̬̦̕C̴͏̟͍̗̹͇̠͓͖͇̳ơ̩̩̫̫̘͖̻̮̗̩̖̙̕͝n̶̨̡̧̤͓̞̗̱̮̙̬̜̗͎͍̮͕͢ͅf̴̵̪̻̰̞͉̟̖̱̲̭l̷̼̦͈̠͎̞̙̯̞̙̗ͅų̸̶̥̦̯̘͖͉̳̱̻͞x̷͕̰̱͎̣̫̟̘̼͈́̀.̢̀͏̡̛̙̫̪͖̟̜̝̭̙͈̼̞̯̗̮̳̠ ̴̶̙̙̳͔̰̫̗̱͇͍̦͍͔̙̯͍I͏̥̜͓̤̟̬̰̣͇ ̛̦̱̦̣͉̱͇̟̥̟̞̹͟a҉̧͠͏҉̻̩̯̥͕̫̼̮͔̜̥͔̟͈̭͓̙w̸̨҉̲̜̜̙̱̫̜̟̬̫a҉̵̦̖̖̖͈̖͖̖̩̲̥͓̤̲̹̫̝͈͈́͢͞ì̛̯̟̜̬̜̮͠ţ̛̦͕̰̲̣̹̫̬̦͇̳͖̖͟͠ͅ ̛̦̻̖̳̙́͢͟t҉̶̛̜̪͕̮̤͖̲̭̝̥̤̤͇͇̯͞ͅh҉̵̱̹̭̯͓̤͉̹̟̮̗̙̟̤̟̗ͅe̸̡̯̯̰̰͉̬͉̻̱̟̩͇̞̲͇̤͈ ̡̨̥̬̯͉͇̭̻̯̯̭̯͔̯̟̙̹̤͞ͅr͞͡҉̙͓̗̟̯̙̳̪͡è̸̹̤̥̫̞͈̱̠͇͕̦͞͞ͅͅp̵̨͎̻̭͇̫̦̣̙̩̯͉̥̩̹͍̦̕͟ò̫͓̖̠̰̞̲͠ŗ̷͓͕̯̠̲͖͕͍͎͍̼͈̫͖̕͝͞ͅͅt̸̤̻̦͍̥͉̲̰̖̬̗̖͓̻͍̞̪͝ ̴̗͇̦̻͖͈͉̩͕͓̭̕͟͢͝f̱̠͇̦̣͔̫͓̩͓̤̱̣̯̥̲͝͞r̛͏̫͖͔̱͈ǫ̸̷͔͇͕̘̳̠͓̻͠m̧̛̙̼̞̪͓̠̞͍ ͏̛҉̜͖̟̰̜̲̻̟̘̳͍͍͍̜̠̹ͅm҉̛͔͈̗̞͖̠̘̣̗̲͈̩͓̤̹̹ͅͅy҉̙͔̞̩̬́͡͠ ̷̧̨̯̻̼̞i҉̴̵̶̻͖̯͇̹͈̱͞ǹ̸̗̦̤͔̮̪̪̥̫̫̹̀͞s̲̪͕͈͓̖̮͕͖͟p҉̷̥̰̱͎͍̻͕̖̮̳̬ͅe̶̢̻̤̳̱̝̩̮̳̟͈̭̠̞͡c̢͕̳̖̻̥͍̗̯̣̟͝ͅt̶̰̻̣̥̠̰͢ǫ̖̯̳̟͎̳̀̕r̕͏̴͏̵̬͈͖̣̝̲̯̘̦͍͕̼̦̫̬̝̫̬̞s̸̷̡̟̰̰̝̞͓͠.̵̵̛͈̬͎̘͖̖͓̦̹̮͖̖̬̙͠ͅ
Iterator Five Pebbles, Log 136767643508, urgency overriding category
Ṭ̸̴̡̫̰̘̠̗͖̼͈̠̩̦͎̯ͯ͐̇ͬ̅ͧ̿̄ͤ̔̉͆̆̿̏͆̈͌̓̀͟ͅͅh̒͗ͫ̾̉̎̎͋ͯ̆̒̑ͪ͗ͦ͒ͣ̓͏̷͢͏̳̯͇̜̩̱̥̖̭ḛ̷̢̥̙̻̹͓̗̱̻̲̲͕̙̼̗͇̙͐̏ͪ̿ͧ̊͐̔̃r̶̵̹͔̱̞̥͈͓̘̳͇̬̘̅̅̈̊͒̀ͭͯ̐̚̕ḝ̨̘̲̫̗͓̰̙ͧͤ̈̓̽̃̋̍̓͊̋ͦ͊ͦ̐̀͠'̛̍ͤ͗ͬ͂ͬͮ̒ͯ̔͑͋ͨ̊͗̚̚͏͈̘̗͎̣͇̭̰̣̩̻̫̙͠ͅs̓ͩ̔͑͒͐̀͡҉̷͍̝͍̱̪̖̪̱͔͓̲̱̹̥͈̜͓ ̡̈͐̍ͯ̒̔̀҉̛̗̙̖̬̣͎̫̫̀s̴̢̤͕̞̻̬̞̰̫͇̜ͨ͑̇̎́o̅̽̆̋̽ͩ̏͊̏̇̅ͣ̍̓̚͞҉̸̧̮̫̮̮̩̳͍̥̖̝m̸ͪͬ̈́ͪͪ̃̆̓̈́̐ͬ̆̑͝͏̲̼̱̻̦͕͉̼̻̣̗͕̠̯̜͠e̢̛̒ͨ͑̒̑̈́́̚̚҉͎͉̻̙ţ͕͔̰̥͎̤̟̭̦̗͓ͮ̿ͩ͊̓̽͌̅̀͟͟h̴̸̨͖̬̠͈̖̲̙͆̈́ͭ͝͝į̸̛̦̗̘͇̝̯̦͉̩̝̩̯̟̝͐ͨͤ̐͊̄̎͆ͅn͍̫ͧ̀ͤ̐̒͗̇ͣ̒ͩ̀ͅͅg̡̝̫̭̱͇̱̉̌̀̀̕ ͕̗̝̪̙̋͋̓̎̇ͬ̃̚͢͠w͐ͦ̅̂͂҉͢͢҉̶̹̳͕̰̗̱̞r̸̹̝̹̫̙̰̣͕͕̹̙̙ͩ̋̐̓̇̔́́͡͞ͅo̐͑̃ͨͤ҉͖̱̪̠̯̝̻̼̣͕̘̼̲̹̯͍ͅņ͓͔̝̝͉̟̹̯̫̣͂͗͐ͦͥ̈̈́͠ͅg̴̴͇͎̗̙͈̭̟̯̞̠͍̼̟̪̮̅͊́͑ͧ̃̔ ͊͂̽ͦ͆ͪͯ͊ͦ̓́̉ͣͥ́̆̃̚̚͏̢̛͇̗̠̥͎̻̩̥ȋ̸̴͕̥̝̲̭̻̙̻̝͖͔̹̙͗ͫ͗ͨ̽ͩ̂ͯ̅͊ͧͪn̸̴̨ͭ̊ͨ̔̎͏̻̩͓̬̰̜͎̜͖̲̗̩̹ ̨̓͊̌̉̀ͨ̊̎ͮ̓́͏̶̼̪̦͍͈̘̣m̶̢̡͉̦̬͕̥̘ͯͭ̑͂̈ͧͣ̔̒̓ͅy̷̮̬͍̤̠̼̮̫̬͉̫̰̪͍̹̩̦͒̐ͨͮ̌ͦ̈́̐̑ͣ̈́͒͒ͅ ̛̰̝̹̲̖͎͈̳̿ͤ̇ͦͧ̏ͨ̀ͯͦͧ̓̌̈́ͫ̎̒̑́̀M̶̮͓̖̮̪̖͉̻̃͋ͧ̐̿̽́̒̏̆ͅeͤ̍̏̄̌̎̈́̈ͤ҉͠͏̧̩͎̙̬m̧̢̛̩̦͇͇̯̙̪̯͖͕̟̭̤̯̣͊ͦ͂ͤ̏̀ͤ̿̆͗ͪ̓̍̋̅̚̚͠͠ö̷̥̻̬̪̼͕̻̪̜̥̲̗̦̤̙̗͍̘̝́͒͆ͣ́̏r̗̦̝̦̲̼͑͗͗ͣ̃ͣ̀̆̊̑̓͗̀͌̿̐́͞y̶̛̖̬͈͍͇͍̝̫̘̠̙̝̣̜̽̌̾͌̐̏̄̓͋͊́ͧ͌͟ͅ ̵ͣ͋̉̍͒̐ͮ͗ͩ͆̉ͦͮͦ̈́ͧ̌҉̵̡̳͈̪̯̠̖̣͖̣̝͖͓͕C̸̴͎̻̪͉̟̐̆̈̅̍̀ͫͫ͠ͅo̢̭̤͉̯̘̬̱͉̟̗ͣͧ́͗̍͢͝ņ̷̴̭̘̼̗̣̻̐͂̋͑ͮ̈͟f̶̪̮̘̠̩̠͎̥̬̋͊͌̿̇ͬ͋̋̽̅̓ͩͦ̊͢͝͡l̶͈͓̳̟̥͓̳̠̤̲͉̅̂̆͂̀ͯ͐̿̾̆ͭ̉̅̂ͧ̔́͌̀́̕ủ̸̧̧̝̭̮̟̘̓ͥ̈́̓̾̀ͩͣ̒́͆̊͌̑ͮ͞x̯̠͎̞̠͓̱͕̜͓̪̭͓̰̰ͣ̂̓ͮ̋̒̄͌́́̀.̵̧̢̂̿ͭ͢҉̫͉͉͓̖̘ ̵̸̢̢͓̹̗̹̗̬͔̗̲͍͇̦̲̥͈̻̈ͦ̔ͭ͆̂͌̇͐̅̀ͅİ̡ͦͫ̓̆ͭ̄ͨ̋̈́͂̑̓̆̃̽ͫ̚̚҉̨̝̜̤͕̫͈̖̻̫̻͔̩͝ ̡̧̡̟̬͇̼̥̲̬̜̜͈̖̫͐ͯͯͩ̓̆̃̓ͪͩ̇ͩ̓̊ͦ̅ͧ͒͞a̵̛ͩ͗ͧ̾͋̎͐͋ͩͪͭ̂ͭ҉̱͍͍͔͇̀͝w̸̢̢̡̠͕̝͇̹͇̻̠̞̹͎̰͎̘̣̭̩̗ͤ̂̊̾̒̾͐̂̊̋ͦ̀͟ͅaͫͩͧͥ̌͑͏̨͈̩̱̮̙͈͕̦͇i̵̜̞̙͍̣̥̣ͯ́̾ͯͯ̋̓͗̀̿ͮ̀t̶̵̶̫̱̪̙͕͈̥̼̲̥͔̮̗̳͔̲̍ͦ̉ͪ̿͋̾ͥ̀͗̀́ͅ ̓̒ͯ͌̀͋ͨͪͥͩ̃͂ͧ̚̚̚͏̧͉̦͎̤̖̟̻͕̩́͠͡t̶̴̷̛͍̫̪͉̝̱̭̭̱̖͖̲̭̥̭͕̹̜̹̄ͦ̊̽ͭͣ̆̓ͤ͐̌̍̄͋ͦ̋ͤ̈́͢h̆̃͐̍҉҉̷̙̯͈̗̼̟͍̫̹̲͓͖̪̣̤̻͉͠ͅe̎̐ͤ͗̈̎͂̏͑͏̸̮̳͍͕̭͇̞̻̲̳͔̟̻̼͟͡ ̧̧͔̱͉̹̪̤̖̻̞̫̟̫͒͐̄̇͠r̢̨̤͉̭͓ͯ̋͆̉̅̏̀ͧ̄ͣeͪ͌̈́ͤͨ̈́̃́ͧ̃̈́͋͌̃̽̑̒̆͏̜̙̗̘̟̙̙͎ͅp̢̨̼̪̘̯̼̲͔͎̳̞͈͇̜̪͊ͪ̊͒͋ͪ̋̔ͣͩ͠ͅo̶͂̃͗ͪͥ̾ͭ̿͊̇ͣ͒҉̵̵̝̼̥̞͇̦͍͓̟͉̘̰͇̥͇͔͡r̶̸̡̮̞̼͔̯̠͉̬̯͈ͯͫ͒̃́̿́ͥ͐̋͊̋̍̀͡͠ͅt̶̴̡̜̟̤͍̭̟̮̳̮̰͎̩̟͍̑̀̇ͩ̃͑ͤ̎ͧ̒̀ͬ̇ͣ̀͟ͅ ̸̷̴̝̞͔͉̥͓͓ͨ́͗̂̋̔ͪͯͤ̉͐͌̍͝f̢̯̟̩͉̼̖͉̭̗͍̲̟̭̟̻̹͒ͮͮ͒ͤ̂̎̂͑̒ͭ́͞͝͡ͅr̽̃̉ͩ͒̑ͫ̃̈́ͣ̎ͬ̎́͒̋̇͆҉̶̵̡̠͎̩̫̳̹̠͉̥̼̣̮͓͝ö́͌̃̉͌ͦ̀̉͡҉͏͕͎̪̫̲̯͈̪̱̗͕͈͖͓̘̼m̧̘̣̥̙̣͎̞̱͓̟͇͎̞͖̄ͦ̈́̽͑͡ͅ ̡̨͍̬̗͓̍̇̉̈́ͣ̓̏̿̆̉͂ͤ̂̎̀ͯ͆̄ḿ̴̷̟̬̯̳͇̝̟̻͓̭̟̗̤̜̩ͮͨ̕͡y̷̢̢͕͉̤̩͇̤̰̝̥̐̅ͨͩ͆̿̉̀͂̅̚ ̴̢̍̀̉ͣ́͞͏͈͇͇̯̰̩̼̼̪̙͍̣͓̫ͅi͇͍̟̱̤̜̞͔͉̘̞̱̯̙ͦ̆̍̈ͪ̍̾͂̕͟ͅn̴̾͆̽̽̀͆͋͊̄̄͏̢̬̳̞̝̫̣͔͍͉̙͖̞̦͖̝̤ș̶̶̢̲̞͖̯̲̩͖̝̭̗̝͍͖̣̹͔̍̂̏̑̄̐́p̠̱͓̬͍̣̱̻̙ͨ̃ͮ̀͟͞ͅe̴͕͖͇̦̣͖̦̯̼͔͎̱̘̍̏̓ͪ͗͑̄͠͞c̵̷͖̬͈͔͎̟͕̞̜͊̓͂̎̽ͯͩ̀͑͋̎̇̑̂ͣ̌̿̕͝͞t̵̶̡͈̩͔̥̮̟̝̘̖͔̲̖̯͓̥̖̀͗̑͋̓̔́͝o̰̻̝̹̞̘̤̫̘̖̱̱̪̠͖̝̳ͨ̈́́̃̾̔̏̒ͭ̑̔͑̂̽ͤ͗ͤ̏͞͞r̸̸̨̜͍̪̥͓̠̹͖̬͉͍͔̥͓̠͐͐̏̔̋͋̔̌ͧ̍̓̐̓͒̊s̢̈ͨ́̎́͏͓̮͎͈̮̥̗͉̗̣̜̯͍ͅͅ.̢͐̽ͣ̾ͮͨ͂̀̀̋̓̚͏̭̗̖̭̟̭̠̼͍̥͎͎̖̰̬̝ͅͅ