Humans have an expression. No. That’s wrong.
Humans have many expressions relating to what I’m going to say next.
‘Think of it as being bitten by a stray dog’ refers to an unfortunate and unforeseeable event.
‘When it rains it pours.’ Refers to how bad things tend to come in groups.
And my personal ‘sort of’ favorite, ‘When something can go wrong, it invariably will, and at the worst possible moment.’ Commonly referred to as ‘Murphy’s Law’, at first glance it would appear to contradict what my people refer to as the law of Independent Causality, which states that positive and negative events can take place without respect to circumstance.
But it keeps to the Law of Dependent Causality, which states that structural or systemic flaws are often exposed by temporally proximate but seemingly independent events. I know, it’s complicated. A simple way to understand it is this…
Suppose you have a bridge, and the bridge collapses during a storm. Now you have no bridge. Well, why did the bridge collapse? Simply put, it fell apart because of ‘weather’ which is an independent event from the bridge’s collapse.
However, the bridge was weak because the maintenance wasn’t performed properly, and ithat wasn’t performed properly because there was corruption involved, paying somebody for work that they were either not performing at all or were underperforming to increase their profits.
Because you have a corruption problem, the bridge collapse is only one sign of a problem that is far more widespread. If you start checking ‘other’ construction projects, you’ll find similar results. Thus when you start spotting other issues, you are seeing ‘dependent causation’ which is to say…
To borrow another human idiom, you found the bad apple that’s spoiling the bunch.
You might wonder why I’m saying all this, particularly since it wasn’t in the first edition of this volume.
I added this so there would be some context to some other external events that were taking place ion the far reaches of the galaxy. Events… nobody really recognized yet as being related, largely because at this point in time, we just didn’t talk to each other very much.
This is something difficult for later generations to really comprehend, now that it’s simply a given that the various species communicate regularly and that trade takes place on more than just isolated space stations that route goods to planetary or moon colonies.
But at this point in time, human and dlamisan species were unique in that we spoke as much as we did. Our governmental leaders, civil and military, genuinely took a liking to one another and would spend abundant time together.
But mowentari, avinris, leonid, maxiki, and the countless other species, did not typically remain in long term persistent contact with each other, and what humans refer to as ‘nomanslands’ were exceptionally common, with border friction great and only certain paths of travel considered ‘acceptable’ and therefore protected.
It made piracy common and the zenti, not to mention other piratical groups, could go deep into the galaxy by following the many branches of the Sindari Road or by other, little used paths to establish themselves and raid peoples even far from their own borders.
And since nobody talked to one another and border tensions were always tight, not only were cleanups of pirate activity rare, but even knowing that losses were taking place was little reported, at home or abroad.
A mining station being destroyed in avinris territory would not be spoken of to the mowentari. The mowentari would not tell the leonids, and nobody would tell Dlamias if there was a pattern of destruction from other bases, leading toward dlamisan territory.
If it seems like madness… it is. Or was. Depending on when you read this.
But it was so normal that we all just accepted it.
And when I say ‘we’, I mean this necessarily includes ‘me’. At least until I began the phase of my experimentation that involved the multispecies combat tournaments.
The gravity of that error on all our parts was made evident when I reached out to Livingston and informed him of what I’d learned.
He was seated behind his desk and staring down his snout at me. “I assume I don’t want to know where you got that information, and I can probably guess, regardless.”
“You probably can, sir.” I said, choosing to be formal while I sat in my room in the basement of the Walker house. It was as good as confirmation, and he scratched beneath his jaw.
“A few years ago, I would have had you hauled off and deported over this.” He said as his ears drooped. “But… everything is different now. And I don’t just mean the fact that you’re no longer a mere impoverished student.”
Having my status elevated was no small thing, it wasn’t something my people did lightly, and this is especially true without ‘formal’ status. In name, I was no different, but since my life had ‘evolved’ a few new roles, deporting me would have been a disruption, and I no longer had anything to fear about that.
“Thank you, sir.” My tongue lolled out of my mouth as I gave him a polite nod to acknowledge his quiet praise for my usefulness.
“Don’t thank me yet.” He answered, and then said, “It’s because of your…usefulness as a backchannel. , I want you to go back to your fighters, the leonid, the mowentari, the avinris, and speak to your fellow students too. I want you to feel out the possibility of a general ‘Rapax Conference’, something covert. Like the earlier idea of military operations.”
“They’ll ask to what purpose.” I prompted, the fine fur on his body was standing on end, and the tension rose another notch as he leaned toward the viewscreen.
“This. Does not. Reach. Anyone. Else. Am I understood, Bailey Walker. The humans know. I know. Your mate knows. I do not know if anyone of the others haves been experiencing the same thing, but we need to find out.” Livingston stared at me with a long, silent look that said I had better be taking him seriously.
For a moment I wasn’t sure who he meant… then it hit me. ‘Bonny Red knows…whatever it is? What did she find?!’ My academic curiosity was piqued.
“I understand. I won’t even speak to Fauve.” I promised.
“She’ll know soon enough anyway.” He grumbled, and then after what felt like an eternity he said…
“Colonies are disappearing. So are colony ships, and so are entire space stations. Not just ours. But some of the small human settlements that were meant to lay the foundations for future colonies. If it is happening to both us and humans. M, my colleague and I are concerned if it might not be more widespread. And what’s more, the same thing is happening among the Praeda class species. Bonny Red’s excursion found abandoned, damaged, destroyed outposts, colonies, floating hulks… something is amiss, and it appears this is the cause for the Praeda arming for war.”
“Did we do it?” I asked point blank. It was the sort of thing Dlamias would do if it ensured a long term victory, our highly militarized society would not play games of chance with our future if we could avoid it.
“No. I can confirm that we had nothing to do with it. For one thing, Gaozu is on Earth. He has been for months at least, and the last time he left, it wasn’t for long. If we were behind it, he would be in charge.” Livingston’s protest rang true to me.
He was our best, it would be inconceivable for him to be offworld, let alone attending my sporting events every week while a proxy or covert war was being waged.
“Alright. I understand. I’ll reach out immediately and have my fighters contact their embassies and suggest that there are some explosive matters to discuss and the problem won’t vanish if it is ignored. They’ll take the hint.” I could promise that much.
Like I said.
Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible time. And it seems the human expression did not go far enough, when it rains, it pours, and then it floods.

This is part of my little series about the adventures of Vr'ocria and Human Aldrick. If you'd like to read previous parts, they're linked below, along with brief summaries of each:
Part One: Alien learns what "sleep" is and how humans prefer to do it in a comfy bed with blankets and pillows. And they find it utterly adorable.
Vr'ocria and Human Aldrick are sent on a survey mission together. Things go south, Aldrick makes sure they're safe, and then Vr'ocria learns what human sleep is and how vulnerable humans are when they sleep. Vr'ocria's people don't sleep, but enter stasis, a form of rest in which they typically stand, and they are still slightly aware of their surroundings. Vr'ocria finds human sleep utterly adorable, and also decides she will protect Aldrick while he sleeps. And she also develops a massive crush on him. (Her scales turning purple is her version of blushing)
Part Two: An alien + human adventure with such shenanigans as poison drinking, befriending dangerous wildlife, and fighting a space pirate. Oh, and they have a huge crush on each other.
Vr'ocria and Human Aldrick end up assigned together for another survey mission. Vr'ocria tries to deny her feelings for Aldrick after a tense conversation with her nestmate about the danger of humans, but when they're ambushed in the night by a pirate and Aldrick takes a blow to save her, becoming injured in the process, she comes to realize just how strongly she feels for him. She kills the pirate, carries Aldrick to safety, and the two share a tender moment.
Part Three: When a cold-blooded alien has to cuddle a warm-blooded human for warmth
Vr'ocria and Human Aldrick are assigned to an ice plant for their next mission. Aldrick chews out Command for assigning Vr'ocria there when they know she's cold-blooded and not built for the cold, and when the power goes out, they cuddle to keep her from freezing. They finally confess their feelings for one another, and Vr'ocria learns what kissing is.
Part Four: A human leaves a hickey on his alien lover. Her nestmate doesn't understand what a hickey is, and thinks the human injured her
Vr'ocria enjoys neck kisses, and asks Aldrick to indulge her. Later, she has a video call with her nestmate Galek. Galek is already wary of humans, and when he sees a bruise on her throat that she didn't notice, he figures out Aldrick is responsible and freaks out, thinking Aldrick intentionally hurt her. Vr'ocria dresses Galek down, explaining that it's not an injury, and also that he needs to get over it and respect her relationship with Aldrick.
Now for the new story!
TW: There will be blood and broken bones.
—
"I have a bad feeling about this."
Vr'ocria turned to Human Aldrick in the pilot seat next to her. He was drumming his fingers on the console, brow furrowed, as he watched the Xenthum solar system approach.
"What do you mean?" She asked.
"I dunno. I just–" he bit the inside of his cheek. "You ever just get an ick feeling about something?"
Vr'ocria frowned. "No. Can you explain it?"
He scratched the back of his neck. "It's hard to explain. Like, there's nothing wrong that I can tell about this mission, but ever since we got within visual range, I've had this gut feeling that we need to turn back."
Vr'ocria wasn't sure she understood, but she didn't like seeing him uncomfortable. "Well, we're here on orders–"
"I know, I know, I don't want to get us in trouble, I'm already on thin ice after yelling at Lieutenant Prax–"
"–but the minute anything starts to go wrong, no matter how small, we can turn around."
He glanced over at her. "Thanks," he said with a grateful smile.
They had entered the Xenthum system now. Its main planet was sparsely populated, used mostly as a trading outpost since it was so close to the Dridian border. The trick was navigating through the minefield of asteroid clusters. Aldrick let Vr'ocria take the lead piloting, since of the two of them, she was more skilled at delicate maneuvers.
They were almost to the planet when an alert pinged. Aldrick sat up to check the sensors.
"There's a ship nearby," he reported. "A big one."
"Where?" Vr'ocria pulled up the sensor on her screen. "I don't see anything. Just asteroids."
"Turn on the warp detector and increase the ion frequency."
Vr'ocria pressed a few controls. "Oh wow, you weren't kidding." She frowned. "It's way too big to be in the middle of an asteroid field. What are they doing?"
"I don't know, but I don't like it." She could feel the tension radiating from him.
"You want to get out of here?" she asked.
He chewed his lip. "Y'know what? Yeah. Let's at least take an alternate root, we can–"
But before he could finish, there was a loud BANG and they were sent flying from their seats as the shuttle rattled.
"What the fuck?" Aldrick yelled as he scrambled to his feet, lunging for the console. "Did we scrape an asteroid?"
Vr'ocria crawled back into her seat as well and banged out a few commands on her screen. Her blood froze.
"No," she said in a low voice. "It was phaser fire."
They'd been so focused on the massive ship that they'd missed the tiny shuttle creeping up from below them.
BANG. The screens flickered and glitched.
Aldrick cursed. "We've lost shields!"
There was another hit, then another, and another. Sparks were flying now, and the sensors were screaming as the shuttle's operating systems started failing.
Vr'ocria was tossed against the wall in one particularly brutal crash, and the last thing she saw was a broken panel flying right towards her face.
—
Everything hurt.
Especially her nose. The tang of blood clung to the back of her throat.
There were muffled voices somewhere nearby, and the sound of metal scraping. When she tried to move, she abruptly registered something cold and hard encircling her wrists.
"She's waking up."
Vr'ocria coughed, blood splattering from her lips. Moaning in pain, she managed to lift her head and crack her eyes open.
The scraping sound was the heels of her boots sliding across metal grate flooring as she was dragged by her wrists. She craned her head back, pain shooting through her neck, and realized that her wrists were clapped in rusty manacles. A massive blue hand fisted the rust red chains that suspended her arms over her head.
"Wha' th'fmm–" she slurred. Her brain felt like sludge.
Suddenly she was yanked even higher into the air, her toes just brushing the floor. A shock of cold assaulted her and she yelped, flinching as water dripped down her face.
"You awake now?"
A man was standing in front of her, tossing aside a now-empty bucket. There were several people, actually. All different species, all looking very pleased, and all wearing distinctive black Norvidian armbands.
Pirates.
A hand cracked across her cheek, sending more blood flying. She bit back a cry as the shockwave laced through her broken nose. "Fuck you," she spat instead.
The man chuckled. He was tall, muscles bulging through his coat, and his skin was blue. He must've been the one dragging her. "Picking up human words, I see."
Vr'ocria's blood turned to ice. "What have you done with him?" She demanded in a low voice.
His grin only widened. His teeth were crooked and rotting. "I'll be asking the questions here."
Her scales burned a bright and hot yellow and snapped as they turned on end. But before she could respond, his hand lashed out and grabbed her throat–not enough to choke her just yet, but enough to make her freeze.
"You're the lizard bitch from Theta-7, yes?" The grin was gone now, replaced by a withering glare.
Understanding dawned on Vr'ocria. Blast. Oh, blast.
He saw the realization in her eyes and slowly released her throat. "You are."
"What's it to you?" She snapped.
He sneered. "You killed one of my men."
"He attacked us first!"
Stars burst behind her eyes as the air was forced from her lungs, and it took her a moment to realize that he had punched her in the gut. All she could do was cough and gasp, trying to regain her bearings through the pain as he turned away from her and towards the others standing around. He raised his arms.
"We are Norvids!" He boomed, and the others whooped in agreement. "We stand together! We protect our own!"
Vr'ocria tuned him out as he kept proselytizing, using the opportunity to look around the room. It was massive and almost all metal with towering walls. Crane chains hung from the ceiling, and crates and barrels of different sizes were scattered about, everything dusty, rusty, and old. A storage room. An old cargo ship? She wondered. That would explain why it was so big.
She ran a quick headcount of everyone she could see. Seventeen.
But where was Aldrick?
Vr'ocria felt sick. You better be okay…you have to…please be okay…
The man–the captain, she guessed–finally turned back to her. He drew a dagger from a sheath strapped to his arm, and her eyes went wide.
"A life for a life," he growled, stalking towards her.
But before he'd made it even two steps, a voice rang out through the cargo bay.
"Don't you fucking touch her."
It was enough to stop the captain in his tracks.
Footsteps sounded from behind her, and Vr'ocria tried in vain to twist her body around.
But she didn't have to. The man approaching from behind came forward and stepped in between her and the captain, and she didn't have to see his face to know who it was.
"Aldrick," she nearly whimpered.
The caption sneered. "Well well, a little escape artist, are we?"
Aldrick was silent.
Deathly so.
Vr'ocria swallowed.
Even the captain, who was twice Aldrick's size, seemed to waver. Vr'ocria wasn't sure she wanted to know what he saw on Aldrick's face.
Finally, Aldrick spoke. "Any of you touch her, and you will die." His voice was so cold it pierced her to the bone. She could see his clenched fists trembling at his sides. He's not even armed!
The captain began to laugh, his voice echoing around the bay. The others laughed with him.
"And who's gonna stop us?" He demanded. "You? Little human, you don't know who you're messing with." He dashed forward, raising the blade, ready to strike.
"Aldrick!" Vr'ocria screamed.
But Aldrick dodged as easily as water flows through a river, ducking under the dagger and going for the captain's legs. He barreled his full weight against his hips, and with a shout, the giant fell, the dagger clattering from his grasp. Quick as a whip, Aldrick snatched it up–and drove it directly into the captain's throat.
Vr'ocria couldn't help but watch in horror as green blood frothed forth, spraying all over Aldrick. The captain's eyes were wide, and he choked and spasmed as his life drained out onto the dirty floor.
By now, the others were surging forward, shouting, screaming, and brandishing their own weapons.
"NO!" Vr'ocria screamed as they converged on him. She kicked and yanked uselessly at her chains, desperate to help, to do anything. The manacles bit painfully into her scales, some of them even popping off onto the floor, leaving beads of blood welling up in their wake. But the manacles did not yield.
When she looked back, she was terrified she'd see Aldrick lying dead on the floor.
But he wasn't.
In fact, there were three pirates–no, make that four now–sprawled lifelessly instead. Aldrick was a whirlwind of limbs and gnashing teeth–he ducked and dodged, spat and kicked, slashing at knees and elbows, slowly incapacitating or discombobulating each one until he was able to sink the dagger into throats, chests, between ribs–bodies were dropping--he was covered in blood now, eyes wild–
"BEHIND YOU!" Vr'ocria screamed.
Aldrick turned just a second too late, and a woman covered in dark fur landed a kick directly to his chest. He hit the floor, the dagger flying from his grasp. The woman pounced, her hands wrapping around his throat. His legs thrashed as he clutched at her hands, and he was just able to roll them over until he was on top. From there, he simply started punching, and punching, blood spraying his face with each hit.
A large man behind him had stumbled back to his feet. He lunged forward and yanked Aldrick into the air by the back of his shirt, throwing him bodily into the air, where he crashed against a metal crate.
He hit the ground and didn't move.
Vr'ocria was screaming. She didn't know if she was saying words anymore, but she was screaming, and blood was streaming down her arms now from how hard she was pulling against the manacles. All she could do was watch as the final three pirates approached her mate where he lay lifeless on the floor.
They stopped before they were in arms length, looking between each other. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but one of them finally edged forward and poked Aldrick's side with her toe.
Vr'ocria wanted to rip their entrails out with her bare hands.
He still didn't move. Seeming satisfied, they moved forward, and one bent to grab him.
All at once, her human surged back to life. The man closest to him hit the ground as Aldrick swung his legs around, sweeping the man's feet out from under him. Once he was down, Aldrick bashed a crane hook–one he must've picked up from the floor–into the man's skull so hard that it caved in with one blow. Still lying on the floor, Aldrick used his vantage point to kick the woman's knee backwards, and she collapsed with an agonized scream. One more strike with the hook, and she was silenced.
That left just one. The final pirate appeared to be reptilian like her, although he had large spines stretching across his head and shoulders. This one didn't try to rush Aldrick. Instead, he kept his distance, watching warily as Aldrick climbed to his feet.
"So it's true," the spined pirate said, "what they say about humans."
Aldrick returned a deadly stare. "And what's that?" His voice almost didn't even sound like his anymore.
"You're monsters. Demons. Scourge of the universe."
Aldrick grinned, but it looked more like a feral animal baring its teeth. "That's me."
The pirate's spines flexed. "You could join us," he said. "Join the Norvids. We'll find another crew, you can be captain."
They were circling now, Aldrick crouched like a predator ready to strike, the pirate shuffling back with his hands held out.
"You could be rich!"
Aldrick picked up a rusty chain from a barrel as he passed by.
"Think of the power you would wield!" The pirate cried desperately.
Aldrick still said nothing. He forced him back, and back, until the pirate realized, too late, that he was cornered between two crates. His back hit the wall and he slid down, cowering, as Aldrick loomed over him.
Vr'ocria could barely hear because of the distance, but the metal room carried Aldrick's low hiss as he bent down to the trembling pirate: "You hurt my mate. Now, you die."
The rusty chain crackled as Aldrick wrapped it around the pirate's neck in one fell swoop. He pulled the loop tight and the pirate clutched at the noose, his eyes and forked tongue bulging out. Then, with one swift and hard yank, an audible splinter-snap filled the room–and the pirate was dead before he hit the floor, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.
Aldrick dropped him in disgust. His back was turned, but Vr'ocria could still see his chest heaving.
He turned and met Vr'ocria's eyes, and the demented expression drained from his face. He stepped towards her, slowly at first, and then broke into a sprint.
It seemed like he wanted to throw his arms around her, but he came to a sudden halt before he could touch her, instead raising his shaking hands to her face. "Vr'ocria, 'ria, my Ria, I'm so sorry–" his voice broke and his eyes welled with tears that quickly spilled over and began running down his face, carving tracks into the grime and blood spatter.
"Aldrick," she whispered, drinking him in. He's alive.
"Hold on, hold on, I'll get you out of these cuffs, fuck–" he turned to the dead captain on the floor and rifled through his pockets until he produced a key.
He returned and had to stand on his tiptoes to reach the manacles, and with a scrape and groan of metal, the manacles cracked loose.
Vr'ocria collapsed onto Aldrick, her legs too weak to hold her up. Her arms fell over his shoulders, and he caught her around the waist. Together they sank to the floor until they were both on their knees, clutching at one another as if they would disappear.
Aldrick buried his face in her neck, shaking with silent sobs. Vr'ocria tangled her hands in his bloody hair, not caring about the mess. Her people couldn't weep like humans did, but she might as well have with the way her chest heaved with stuttering breaths, her scales burning bright red.
Aldrick clutched her tight enough to hurt, but she didn't care. "Ria, my Ria, my love," he gasped like a mantra.
She finally took his face in her hands and pulled him back, forcing him to look at her. "Are you alright?" She implored. "Are you hurt?"
He let out a half-laugh, half-sob. "You're asking me?"
She used her thumbs to wipe away some of the grime on his face. "You took on all of those people by yourself," she croaked. "And the way he threw you–planets, I thought you were dead."
His hands slid up her back to clutch her shoulders. "I'm alright," he assured her. "Bumps and bruises is all. But you–" he looked her up and down, rage rekindling in his eyes. "Son of a bitch, what they did to you–"
She shook her head. "They're dead now," she said firmly. "It's over and done." She leaned forward to squeeze him again, resting her head on his shoulder. "Let's just go home."
"Don't have to tell me twice." Aldrick rose, pulling her up with him. Her legs were still too unsteady to walk, so instead, he slid one hand under her knees and swept her up into his arms. She settled against his chest as he carried her out of the cargo bay.
"Should we be worried about any other crew members?" She asked, casting her eyes around the barren corridor.
Aldrick shook his head as he walked. He seemed to know where he was going. "It was just them."
"How do you know? And what happened to you, by the way?"
His arms tightened around her. "After you got knocked out, they locked a tractor beam onto the shuttle and pulled us inside."
They came to a fork in the corridor, and he turned left. "I thought they were just raiding for scrap metal and Union tech, but when they boarded the shuttle, they went straight for you. I–" his voice cracked. "I tried to protect you, but there were so many of them and I was so caught off guard..."
Vr'ocria stroked the nape of his neck with her thumb. "It's okay, it's not your fault."
Aldrick swallowed before continuing. "They took you away and locked me in an old storage container. Thankfully the hinges were on the inside, so I just popped the pins out once they were gone. I was able to access the ship's computer and scan the whole ship, because the idiots didn't know how to encrypt anything. All brawn and no brains, I guess. That's also how I was able to figure out where they kept their own shuttles, since ours is pretty busted."
"Is that where we're going?"
He nodded. "Anyway, I used the scanner to find your location, and then I just crawled through the air ducts so I could get inside without them knowing." He stopped. "We're here."
They'd arrived at a loading door with a rusty label that read "SHUTTLE BAY."
Twenty minutes later found them back out in open space in the least-old shuttle they could find. The engine puttered every few minutes, but with any luck, they'd reach their ship in an hour or so.
Vr'ocria had regained her bearings, and she was rummaging around the storage box at the back of the cabin. She finally found an old "in case of emergency" kit, but frustratingly, all the first aid supplies had been picked clean. She did, however, find an unopened package of wet wipes.
Vr'ocria took the wipes back to the front of the cabin. Ripping the package open, she knelt by Aldrick where he sat in the pilot seat.
"What're you doing?"
"Hold still," she murmured. She raised a wipe to his face, and began gently cleaning the blood off. His eyes became soft as she tended to him, throwing the dirty wipes aside one by one while she worked her way down his face and neck.
When she was done, he took her hand before she could get up. He reached for the package as well, and began wiping the blood from her arms, taking care around the nasty scrapes that marred her wrists. "We need to get these bandaged up."
"It's okay. They're not bleeding anymore, we have time."
Aldrick placed a hand on her cheek. "I love you so much," he whispered. "And I'm glad you're okay."
Vr'ocria leaned into his hand, closing her eyes. "I love you too."

Speaking of finding ways to spend time together, this is a big weekend for us… Both of us organized events that'll have us in the same place at the same time. With a whole slew of other people, but that's fine, that's how it goes.
I just wonder if she knows, or at least suspects, that I put mine together specifically to get to spend time with her. Don't get me wrong, I'd enjoy it even if she weren't there… But, I mean… The moment I saw that this thing was happening, I knew it was a thing she and I would both enjoy. And I just tossed it out, threw it to the wind, not really expecting anything to come of it… but multiple people in our circle caught it, expressed interest. So I stepped out of my comfort zone and made it happen (I don't organize things, lol… or, I didn't… I sense this was just the first of many things, though…). Months ago, lol. And now it's finally here.
And hers. Did she manufacture it as a reason to spend time with me? I doubt that very much, but she did ask me about our availability, and scheduled it for a time she knew I would be around. So she may not have organized it for me, but she clearly wants me there. And that is just as good.
Can't wait to see what she has in store for me. Oh goodness. Spandex would certainly be theme appropriate. Well, whatever she has planned, it will be appreciated. As for me… lol… without giving it anywhere near enough thought, I ordered a pair of shorts from Amazon… which… I will not be wearing, lolmg. A bit disappointed in myself, because it would be totally theme appropriate, and I'm about 99.9% certain would tickle her funny bone in exactly the way I'd like to tickle it………… maybe some other parts of her, as well. But I could scarcely get myself to leave the bedroom with them on, much less the house, lol. Oh well.
Doesn't bode well for a Halloween costume I've been considering… hmm… maybe next year.
That reminds me… silly season is almost upon us, lol. Brace yourselves. I already had to refrain a bit in today's letter… I wanted the focus to be on our love, not my ridiculous lust. I had to edit out a sentence or two, something something feeling my love something something, lol. The word blasting might have made an appearance. 😱 One thing still managed to slip in there, though. Oops. 🫢 Oh well. I'll just go right on and say that, if she does go for Spandex… Well, that may very well put silly season into full swing, lol.
ANYHOW.

It’s the little things of that sort that made life on Earth…life. I swear, if I weren’t keeping my journal of observations, I would completely forget that I was still enrolled in a doctoral program gaining what might potentially be one of the most important degrees in the galaxy.
I’d very much… what the humans say ‘gone native’. Which is the whole point of studying like this, to immerse yourself in a people and learn to appreciate their ways on their terms.
I just never expected when I began that it would be… something more, something so much more, to me or to so many others. But now here I was… and before I go into the days after Michael’s return, I hope you’ll forgive me for a little self indulgence… trust me, it will make the near future far clearer.
By this point, even though I’d only been on Earth for about ten percent of my intended time, by now my degree was going to be a given. I could have returned to University now, with just the work I’d done thus far, presented my findings, and gotten my degree to become ‘Doctor Bailey Walker’ and been done with it… if the rules allowed for that kind of thing.
Because I’d gotten into the various…shenanigans, that I did, because I’d been so heavily involved in so many important events in one way or another from the day of the battle of Waterland Park…as it was so ridiculously and melodramatically called to this day, (much to both my and Fauve’s annoyance), all the way up to the present, I was in a unique position.
I had ties to the highest levels of both governments through two ambassadors, and ties to the leaders of commerce and industry thanks to controlling one of the largest gambling and sporting enterprises on the planet…both of which by dint of my ties to xenomedia expansion in the Barnum Cooperative, meant I was building ties to other planetary governments.
In short… If I didn’t know the right person, I probably lived with one who did. William’s control over my space station project and the display of human engineering was drawing attention from potential allied worlds, while the Methuselah Initiative his wife was a leading researcher for was drawing global attention as the first gentle strides proceeded.
Incidentally… My big sister was on excellent terms with Rebecca Walker and had put her in touch with the D.S.A. the Dlamias Science Academy, where our finest genetic researchers worked… given that Bau was nominally a fugitive, I can only imagine she did this surreptitiously. But once the chain was forged, further cooperation was inevitable.
My people seem to be unable to help ourselves when it comes to humans, if we’re not man’s best friend five years from now, I’ll eat my hat. And if I do not have a hat, first I will buy one, then I will eat it.
All that is to say in long form that, out of all the students on Earth, and out of all the Dlamisa who were now visiting or residing on Earth, out of all the other aliens who were expressing interest in the rising power…I had stumbled my way into being the best known, best positioned, the absolute wealthiest, and the most intimately connected with all the right people.
So… with all that out of the way, let me continue.
Weeks came and weeks went, and I? I enjoyed them. William and Rebecca returned from their work, the Methuselah Initiative continued to progress and the space station continued to expand while the first vessels were built.
Fauve returned from her trip to Japan and we were up late enjoying coffee while the rest of the house slept.
I’d been apart from my human for longer than usual, but we slipped back into our routine without missing a beat.
It was rich, strong stuff that we drank, something she brought with her from her trip. The light was dim and the house was silent save for the little sizzle of coffee dripping down for our inevitable refills. We still had a relatively modest, ‘middle class’ home. Strange for me to say it that way, since I was saying ‘we’. But they were family, now, and it felt right even if legally I owned none of it.
Some have remarked that it was strange that Fauve still hadn’t moved out, when it was not uncommon for humans to leave their homes as they enter adulthood. But the reality is simple, departure is typically undertaken because of stress, a clash between the adult parent and the adult child and the former wanting to continue to rule the latter, while the latter wants to do things their own way.
But that contesting dynamic did not exist between the Walkers. William and Rebecca didn’t press their daughter to let them control anything, they would offer advice, and she did pay a little ‘rent’ to contribute to household expenses. A nominal sum that was more a symbol of independence than anything else. But she otherwise controlled everything about her own life. As they loved and cared for one another and considered their family to be a singular unit, a ‘team’ such as it were, they saw no need to separate themselves.
I like to think she also didn’t want to move since she’d miss me and I was more or less obligated to maintain a single residence for the next fifty years… but that’s just speculation on my part.
Regardless, here she was and so was I, and we could enjoy the comfort of one another’s presence. We simply sipped our first cups, and savored the moment. And for the first half of the cup, we were silent, just enjoying each moment in our amiable existence.
That was our custom, to just enjoy presence for a little while, it was a chance to gather our thoughts and consider what, if anything, there was to say.
Sometimes there wasn’t, we’d just sit in quiet company until our cups were empty, content that nothing need be said and mutual presence was enough.
It’s funny how much humans can say while saying nothing at all. In a very real way, they may be the most competent communicators in the galaxy.
But… tonight would not be a silent night.
When the coffee maker clicked off on the dim light of the kitchen, Fauve chose to speak. “So I got an offer for a diplomatic job.” She said it as if she were mentioning it might rain… this human of mine is the most unflappable person I’ve ever met…I swear.
My tail started to wag and I took a quick sip before saying, “Tell me about it.” She launched into a full story of touring Japan, first, which was to be expected, and I thoroughly enjoyed the recounting before she got to the part I asked about.
“You know how I’ve been handling all these media deals… and… remember how we spent that year on The Red Spark, during the Silent Civil War?” She asked.
I looked down my snout at her. “Tell me that’s rhetorical.”
She cracked a smile, “Well, one of the guys I used to eat lunch with was appointed to the Department of Interplanetary Relations. He was in New Kyoto for a conference on Interplanetary Tech… forget that, it’s boring,” she waved a dismissive hand and went on, “Anyway we were at the same hotel on the day I closed a deal for distributing your league broadcasts…” she paused and tilted her head, “Did you know that the Leonids have a reputation for stubbornness?” She asked.
I nodded. “Worse than ours.” I agreed, and it was no exaggeration. On Dlamias we said that you could convince a mountain to move before you could convince a Leonid to do so.
“They’re not so bad, I just had to keep reframing things until I found what worked, but we got a deal. So I told Marcus about it, and he said he needed someone like me on his team.” She should have smiled, but she didn’t.
“What?” I asked.
“Bailey, listen…”. Fauve’s voice became grave, “Marcus had a few more than he meant to and he let something slip… the Praeda species are a lot more afraid than anyone thinks. If what he told me is true, media relations will be the least of my concerns… a real war is a very clear possibility.”
“Shouldn’t you have led with that?” It was a stupid thing to ask, but still…
She sat up straight, “It wouldn’t be more or less likely, based on where I put it in conversation, and this way you heard good things first. if I waited, you wouldn’t be able to enjoy those properly.”
It was as absurd as it was practical.
“So then the job is…?” I prompted.
“There’s going to be an attempt at diplomacy first. The Rogue World is a long way off, and everybody is going to start gearing up for war, but in that span of time we have a shot at deescalation.” She looked at me for a very long moment.
“I’ll talk to my world’s ambassador. He won’t be happy that word slipped out, even to a reliable resource. Maybe we can create a joint envoy?” It was a tentative thought. More likely it would set the Rapax class species on edge if it looked like we were negotiating a separate peace…
I could see the wheels spinning in her mind when she said… “Maybe suggest we think bigger… anyone left out might feel like a target.”
She wasn’t wrong. “I’ll reach out to him in the morning. In the meantime… one more cup?” I asked.
She handed me hers as I stood, “Yes, please.”

Long story short, we lost our home to a fire. Rebuild is done now and I've completely taken out every garden bed and bringing in new topsoil to start from scratch. This time, I am getting rid of any ornamental landscaping plants and only planting things with uses (be it for myself or pollinators)
As it stands in the front garden I'm going to do a row of alternating Heather and Lavender with different colors of Yarrow and Echinacea to fill in space throughout. I'll need something more shrub like... I was thinking Myrica Gale to put by the rain gutters... but I'm having a hard time finding them it lol Mayybe a juniper? (I love juniper tea)
I have a 5 more giant beds and honestly it's just too many dang choices. The largest will be just for veggies and annuals. Another will be more culinary focused herbs (Rosemanry, thyme, Sage, Lemonbalm etc)
That leaves 2 more big ol beds... What are your favorite and most practical perennials? (Zone 7a)

Hello everyone, I am a person who likes to explore new things and make new friends. I'm looking for some like-minded friends to share our interests and life experiences with.
I love to travel, especially to explore different cultures and cuisines. I have been to Japan, Asia and Switzerland, but there are many more places I would like to visit. If you like to travel too, we can plan our next trip together or share our travel experiences.
I also enjoy outdoor activities such as hiking, camping and skiing. I think nature is the best way to heal and get away from the hustle and bustle and stress of the city. If you like outdoor activities too, we can organize an outdoor activity together or share our outdoor experiences.
In addition, I like to read, watch movies and listen to music. I like all types of books, movies and music, from classic to popular, from literary to entertainment. If you like those too, we can share our reading, movie-watching and listening experiences together.
In short, I hope to meet some interesting, open and friendly people and have a good time together. I hope the age are above 36 , if you are interested in my interests, welcome to message me and we can talk together.

For the last 6 months, things have gone south quickly out of nowhere. She has turned off her location, split our bank accounts, slandered me to anyone who will listen (sooo many people), and makes it appear on social media like I'm not involved at all with the kids.
​
What can I do NOW to ensure the best possible outcome when it comes to the custody battle?
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A few details:
- She's an alcoholic, smokes weed daily (the kids see it, I can't fucking stand it)
- She's a financial disaster
- All of her family just moved across the country to Texas (they're all alcoholic burnouts), I'd say there's at least 50/50 chance she'll try to take the kids there.
- My wonderful little kiddos are 2yo & 5yo. My 5yo is to start Kindergarten in the fall.
​
How can I start building my case/evidence now so I don't lose them?

Hi all, here's an update from my original post after I saw the fertility specialist today:
Upon physical exam the fertility specialist said he is fairly confident there is no vas deferens for me. He said he can feel a very very thin layer of tissue, but with two semen tests both showing azoospermia, low volume, blood work showing normal testosterone, LH, and FSH, normal testicle size, etc., it's more likely to be CBAVD. He said if I wanted ultrasound I could get it, but he wouldn't recommend it because it wouldn't change our course of treatment. He had me clench and unclench many times while he examined for vericocelle, which he ruled out. I showed him my 23AndMe results from a few years ago which shows no variants detected on CFTR and he again said we could redo it if I wanted but he doesn't think it's needed.
He said the only thing that suggests against CBAVD is the pH of my semen, which was 8.0. Usually with CBAVD, he said (and I also saw online) pH should be below 6.5, because prostate fluid is more acidic and if that's all that's in your semen, it should be more acidic. One thing that could explain the 8.0 pH, he said, would be retrograde ejaculation. So I've been instructed to come in and give them some more urine after I've already urinated then ejaculated. It seems like he thinks that's less likely, though.
The good news is he said it's very likely based on my age, health, and hormones that he'll be able to retrieve successful sperm using TESA or TESE. He said I could go on clomid to raise my FSH (which was 1.7) to really optimize my chances of healthy sperm, but it isn't necessary. I opted in, I told him I want to do whatever could conceivably help. Also taking a supplement since he says meta-analyses show none of the molecules necessarily work better than the others but that he likes to recommend an OTC blend (zinc, co-q10, etc.) because it can't hurt. Again, I'll do anything, so I'm going to that, and also reduce my alcohol from ~1 drink/day to ~1 drink/week. Once retrograde ejaculation is ruled out, we can plan for extraction and IVF.
Anyone ballpark 31 years old and had positive experiences with TESA or TESE? Any advice?

Detailing all the little things of the next few weeks would tell you that, all things considered, my life was a rich one, but it would not offer great insight…at least not in things I hadn’t already conveyed in previous observations and experiences, save for one exception, which I will relay next, but after that, the next few weeks of journal entries were labeled as ‘scraps’. I couldn’t bring myself to dispose of them, so in the nonacademic work, ‘The Scraps of My Life’ they can still be found. They however, are not included here, as they detail the more ‘ordinary’ things that were pleasant and charming, but in areas where I had already reached conclusive observations.
This was ‘Michael’s Return’. Before I explain what this entailed, it must be understood that since the end of the Silent Civil war, a lot of things changed, a few years were come and gone, Fauve was no longer under constant guard, and though she would never have a normal life without ‘some’ security…
Humans are flexible, and she’d gotten used to having a security team around within some proximity to her. Unsurprisingly, her relationships with others of a more adult nature were now only with those who also had to deal with having considerable security concerns. The daughter of an admiral, the son of a lawmaker… she seemed in a hurry for a permanent bond, but it was clear that she’d taken a lesson from her time with Halbert.
People who cannot understand your life or your pressures, whatever their character, will never be a good fit. This in the end, is why I have concluded that nepotism becomes the dominant method of governing, over and over again even in their far more egalitarian present.
I wish I could have had more time with my human, of course, but… we do still have coffee at night together sometimes even when she’s traveling. When it comes to humans, you can be together, even when you’re apart, as long as you make the time for it and have a proper network connection.
But I digress. What this departure and shift in her security meant was that Byron and Boatswain were now fixated solely on the security of the Walker house, meaning that their residence was always monitored, but the people themselves were not, unless the trip took someone away for an extended period of time.
Which in Michael’s case meant going to Fort Knox for classes taught by the ‘JSFT’ or the ‘Joint Special Forces Team’.
The brainchild of the human and dlamisa soldiers, a request signed off on by both units through to both chains of command fell on the same day on the desks of both commanding Generals, that the two teams be based together and undergo a series of joint exercises with an eye toward, and I quote, ‘The mutual security of vital trade lanes currently under consideration’.
That was quite a ways away, but I knew the truth. Probably most people involved did. It was an excuse… the humans didn’t want the dlamisa to go, and the dlamisa didn’t want to leave ‘their humans’.
I think we can probably credit Bonny Red for some influence here, as her ‘mass resignation’ remained a blight that would never be washed off, and she probably warned Gaozu that if he tried to force them to leave…they’d quit.
So, conveniently enough, a joint unit was created on an Earth military base that was now part of the community… and which taught children various forms of martial arts.
Since Genghis wasn’t going anywhere, he and Iskandar became part time instructors, and Michael continued to burn off his superabundance of energy in their training hall.
Notably though… despite being what amounted to a ‘star pupil’ to some of the most dangerous people I’d ever met, he still lost.
And yes, I said ‘lost’. He placed second, which means he didn’t actually ‘win’. I have to analyze my own mindset here before relaying the events… my thinking is very ‘Dlamisan’. In my culture, on my homeworld, your only real value is in excellence at your field, your identity is tied to your triumphs and the degree to which knowing you is helpful, dictates your wider influence on others, which means you have ‘currency’ when it comes to asking for or doing favors for others.
To be the expert on humans, the one to rise to the heights of my people’s renown would not only ensure my immortality in our histories, but also would have provided me with broad access to creature comforts and quality of life unrivaled by those mired in mediocrity. To put it another way, if you have to be an apple in a barrel, do you want to be at the top, or at the bottom?
To be the second best at anything was to be ‘lesser’ than someone else.
Or so that had been my thinking… not that many years ago, really. It’s hard to believe, but even having left that behind, it still lingered in the back of my head as some great misfortune that he wasn’t the ‘very top’ and the best of all the others.
Now that my thinking and my inherent bias is out of the way… I turn to his arrival.
I was coming up the stairs to get coffee when Michael burst through the door shouting, “Mom! Dad! I won second place!”
Here is the first distinction. He considered ‘second’ to be a victory. He was thrilled, running into the house and waving a silver trophy around, it was shaped like a closed fist pointed skyward, nice work, really.
“They haven’t gotten back yet!” I shouted from the kitchen as Byron and Boatswain entered after him.
As I worked the old fashioned coffee maker, he followed my voice. “I won second! I won second!” He shouted again as if I hadn’t heard him the first time.
Human young are very loud, especially, I’ve noticed, their young males.
And the happier they are, the louder they tend to be. He rushed into the kitchen and I just barely had time to set my favorite coffee mug down on the countertop before he barrelled into me and squeezed me in a hug. Affection in young humans is heavily focused on interpersonal contact, even more so than that between more mature adults. They actively seek out that contact often, as it helps their brains form more neural connections and improves their overall cognitive function.
Some humans have said, ‘Love makes you stupid’ and…admittedly I’ve seen people make some bizarre decisions over affection. But the general truth is that this ‘love’ emotion in humans actually assists the development of their emotional intelligence that makes them function far more effectively in a social environment.
It doesn’t mean they’ll be better at learning calculus, but it does mean that they’ll be better able to understand how to ask for or offer help when they need assistance in learning it. In short, it’s the foundation of their social reasoning skills.
I returned his gesture and said, “Excellent work!” He squeezed again, he was getting bigger, faster, growing at an impressive rate and was rapidly building the muscle that would one day make him a particularly capable and, with training, dangerous adult human male.
I had to restrain myself from saying, ‘Maybe next time you’ll win first.’
And that was hard to do. This is what people coming to Earth and settling here struggle most with… as human ‘therapists’ began trying to help…albeit somewhat clumsily given the differences in our species, we did encounter one common thing.
Breaking patterns of thought, refraining from saying what was once second nature, is very difficult.
Instead I said, “You did great.” I then looked past him to see Byron and Boatswain walk into the house, it was very different from the old days, when they would have swept the grounds first… but with so many dead that might have once been a threat… they’d earned something closer to a familial existence.
“That he did.” Boatswain agreed, “He’d have taken first too, if not for a bit of bad luck.”
“Meh, it’s not a matter of whether you win or lose, it’s what you learn from either.” Byron offered his pragmatic advice and sat at the table, “Coffee?” He asked.
“Coming up.” I said, and when Boatswain gave me a look, I got two more cups out. “Next time I’ll win first… but second is a good start!” Michael emphasized with determination in his voice.
My conclusion from this, and from my other observations, is that a focus on opportunity and a praise for progress, together with supportive interpersonal contact and a sense of safety and security at home, is the leading indicator of future confidence and success in growing humans.
In short, in my own view, right then…
I was watching a boy prepare to one day become a very great man, and one whom I would take great pride in.
“Can I try some coffee too?” Michael asked, and I furrowed my brow, he was a little young for it but… “I’ll pour some milk, and add a little coffee to it, let’s just start with that, and you can tell me how it all went.” I suggested, and got out another cup to share at the table, which he promptly sat down at, an unspoken agreement to tell me absolutely everything I missed.

I've been reading this sub for a while and thinking about the AI/artist dilemma. About me: I generate fiction and 2D images every day with a variety of LLM & diffusion tools, mostly for fun but have also made some Patreon money. I understand what a foundation model is, the difference between a weight and a parameter, and what latent space is (insofar as any can understand it). I'm also a published author in a few different media, and earn royalties from books I've written, but it's small amounts, I have a different job now that's not particularly threatened by AI. I do care a lot about the motivation of artists to create art, which leads me to my statement:
The future potential of creative AI generation depends in part on continued human creativity. It's important to preserve or create incentives for humans to create art.

• "I make creative work because it's fun and I want to express myself" is a real incentive (I'm going to spend most of today doing just that, summer Fridays.) But if we rely solely on this incentive, which is a "free time" kind of incentive for most (but definitely not all) creative people, we will lose a lot of creative potential.
• For similar reasons, UBI is a perfectly fine idea, but provides people enough to survive and be well on. In most UBI models, there are further incentives -- making more than basic survival income, being recognized, making people happy, etc. -- for people to strive and apply themselves to do more, create more, etc.

Getting into more detail if you're wondering "wait, but what do you mean by..."
Why Care About Human Creativity vs. AI Creativity: At least in the current models, AI are bounded by training data. The latent space is an interpolation, though it contains a huge but finite set of possibilities. At some point, AI may be able to extend latent space by incorporating e.g. sensory perceptions of the real world, but for now this is something humans are much better at: having experiences, being conscious most of the time (processing stuff unconsciously the rest) taking in data and mulching it up in a "noisy" way that's specifically biological and analog, and each brain is at least slightly different. This is what has allowed humans to expand the possibilities of visual, auditory, written creative works between 45000 years ago and now. Right now, humans are the best source of expanding the field of the latent space. If you don't see how this is true, imagine that some extremely talented artist comes up with a really distinctive, original new style of visual art that very cool and at least somewhat different from other artists you've seen before. If you'er an AI art generator, would you want this human's art to be part of training data for an AI? (Let's say they're happy to include it, are compensated somehow, etc.) Probably you would. I assume that the further exploration of creative possibilities ("what could we create tomorrow that's not here today?" is an intrinsic good.
Not Enough Incentives: humans have many reasons to make creative work. We should make sure these reasons stick around and are sufficient for humans to invest the time and energy to acquire skill, practice, get feedback, improve, learn and take inspiration from all the sources that are vital for human creative work, etc.

• "I do it for the pleasure of expression" or "I do it because I like to make things for my friends & family." Fine and valuable, and this has been the main incentive for hobby and side-gig kind of creativity since human creativity began. There are even some brilliant artists who would of course keep making art, maybe with all their time and energy, just because they're psychologically driven to. However, if we only had those artists + people doing some creative work in their free time, we're reducing the exploration of creative possibility space compared to today's situation. It's a huge reduction in incentive
• "I do it for the money / as my career / because I have wealthy patrons" Of course, this is a huge one and at the center of "automation replacement" arguments. It's very controversial in the history of human creative work and incentives, because these structures have allowed some people to spend ALL their time getting very good at creative work while making a living. Being able to pour more time into creative work also allowed institutions like schools, museums, art movements and circles, etc to flourish, often beneficial sometimes gatekeeping, etc. Capitalism is extremely imperfect, so some of the creative work is not good, of course. And having to "grind out a living" can destroy creative spirit, etc." There are lots of points in favor that creative work would be better off in a post-scarcity utopia where nobody is forced to work to survive, but of course we're not there yet, and this incentive is "endangered" by generative AI.
• "I do it so people will see and recognize my work, ideas, skills / I do it to connect with an audience / to gain notoriety and fame." This is the most complicated incentive, and also has good and bad sides. When we envision a utopia where creativity wouldn't be "monetized" as a career, taking away the second incentive above, I think it's usually been assumed that this motivation would stick around. "I have something to show the world!" and get credit for what you made. It's a natural impulse. How does generative AI affect this? It's related to the question of credit and training data. The artist I mentioned above, with the completely new style. In the future, if a "valuably original new creative work" will immediately become part of the dataset without credit and recognition, how will the human component of that creativity be recognized, valued, seen? Or if there's no consideration for that, why wouldn't a creative person avoid sharing except in very limited, protected ways? Some artists who don't care about recognition or credit at all might still "show the world," but again I don't think we're talking about most artists.

Every human being has artistic potential. This isn't a supporting argument and it's more of my intuitive belief as someone who's taught writing and art to students, but I think it's important. Actually, I think playing with ML tools may be showing more people that they CAN do creative work beyond just prompting over and over in search of the perfect generation -- you can mingle your creative ideas WITH an AI's generations, and that's often the best stuff you'll make with ML, right. (Just like part of a pro artist's workflow who uses AI tools.) However, going hand in hand with the traditional, over-simplified idea that "only some people are talented enough to.... X" there's now this idea that AI is the "alternative" to being artistically talented. Definitely not, they could actually go hand in hand.
Summary: if you want the possibilities of any kind of creative work to increase, think about ways that enough artists can be sufficiently incentivized to keep exploring creative possibilities. UBI and "I do it for fun" won't go far enough -- they won't even go as far as capitalist incentives in all their horrifically imperfect glory, and our creative world would contract more.

The time has come for our second /oilpastel contest. Actually, it’s long overdue, sorry about that. Please upvote this post for visibility.
The rules are as follows:

1. The work must be yours, original, and previously unpublished;
   
2. The work can involve other mediums, but it must include a significant (and visible) amount of oil and/or soft pastel usage;
   
3. There is no required theme(s) or subject matter(s)—this is a completely free-style contest;
   
4. All entries must be posted before 11:59PM PT, Monday July 3rd, 2023;
   
5. To enter a work in the contest, you must make a new image post in oilpastel and the title must begin with: "[2023 Contest]" --- don't include the quotes. For example: “[2023 Contest] Mona Lisa” is a valid entry title.
   
6. Entries will only be accepted from users with a (A.) verified email trophy, or (B.) users who don't have a verified email trophy, but who have submitted works in this sub prior to this announcement. If (B.) applies to you, please include a link to your previous submission in a comment to your entry post(s).
   
7. There is a two entry limit per qualified username. Although you can replace an older entry (by deleting the post) as long as it's done before the deadline.
   

How the winner will be determined: Once again, a super-secret committee of esteemed judges will choose the 5-15 best submissions and create a new semifinal post—which contains links to these works that the community can vote on. Then, based on the community voting results, secret committee input, star charts, and sacrificial offerings to sacred oracles, the committee will select the winner and two runners up. To be clear, the winner will not necessarily be chosen by the semi-finalist with the most up-votes in the semifinal post.
Prizes:
1st: $400 gift certificate to the art supply store of the winner's choosing (this includes retailers like Amazon);
2nd: $200 gift certificate to the art supply store of the winner's choosing; and
3rd: $100 gift certificate to the art supply store of the winner's choosing.
Disclaimer: I will make no claims of ownership or rights to works entered in this contest beyond my request that you allow me to use submitted works in creating a new banner for the sub (in the event I actually get around to doing this). So please consider your entry as permission to use your work only as outlined above.
Feel free to ask questions or air complaints about process in the comments below. Also, I encourage you to repost this contest announcement in any place or subreddit where doing so does not violate the rules. I would like to get as many different entries as possible. Last time we had about 30 entries.
And please, do not post your works as comments in this thread!