theprplcooki

[theprplcooki]

[theprplcooki]

"3 days makes sense. Heck, even a week" The looming thing said over my head.

"But a month is pushing it"

I sit up, look around and my gaze lands on the clock.

"You had literally all of eternity and you picked 5 in the morning?" I say with the most indignant tone that I could muster.

"So, you are aware that you have literally all of eternity to do something. But you choose sleep" says the now very clear figure of a tall man.

"Have you never heard of the term 'Sleep Debt'. I have been working the nightshirt on top of taking care of my younger sibling." yawning while rubbing my eyes. "So I'm guessing you're the ..... god? That put me in this time loop"

"God? Hah! Flattering, but no. I'm what you would call a fae"

"Where's the wings"

"Really? Stereotype much? "

"Hey, just asking"

The fae brings the rolly chair from my desk and sits down, head in his hands.

Then, a thought pops into my head.

"So, may I have your name. I would like to add that you barging into my house seems to be in breach of a couple of hospitality rules."

"Nice try. You can call me Philip. And, no. You have a very nice large 'Welcome' mat at your front door. I took it literally"

I laugh and shrug.

"Well, if you're going to keep me awake at this hours I'm going to get coffee"

I stand up, pull on a shirt and head to the kitchen. Philip follows behind me while rubbing his face.

"Okay, I'm going to be real. The only reason you got this time loop thing is because you said that you wanted this"

"When, pray tell, did I ever utter the words 'Trap me in a time loop' ?"

"You didn't say that. If I remember correctly, it was more along the lines 'I would kill for the time to fix my life' "

I pause, the coffee cup at my lips.

"When did you hear that ?"

"At the coffee shop"

"But, I didn't even kill anything?"

"You really don't recognise me? You killed the spider for me."

"That was not you, that was a much more nice looking person"

"Excuse you, I've had to stay up monitorring your ass. Just in case you decide to do something interesting"

"Okay, hold your horses. Aren't I technically fixing my life by taking a huge ass nap?"

"I mean... yeah. But, don't you want to do anything else? I've had to keep it up an extra 3 weeks because you already filled the requirements"

"I mean you could keep it up as long as your ... powers? Magic? Whatever. Whatever allows you to keep this thing up."

"I've got a day left, that's why I came here."

"Well ... the kid doesn't come here until 1:00 p.m. I can think of one way I could fix my life"

"What"

I say nothing and walk back into my room

The Fae that trapped you in a Groundhog Day-style time loop is extremely frustrated that you’re taking advantage of the situation to just sleep all day, every day.

[theprplcooki]

[theprplcooki]

Humans accidentally awakened an otherwordly killing machine while exploring a death planet.

Yes, precisely what you just read. Earthlings, collectively known as "humans" and composed of two species (homo sapiens, homo robot), both nicknamed "death worlders" and "troublemakers", awakened a biological killing machine, also known as PRION, while exploring a starless moon. Wonderful, isn't it?

No. It's not.

Because, you see, PRION was not something any human ever had to face during the millions of years they existed on Earth. They never had any wars against it, they never had legends about it, and they never had to fear it. The only thing a PRION was to a human, until the very point they discovered their prison on that moon, was something to sometimes think about while studying other species' folklores.

Those older than earthlings, however, knew very well what PRION was.

Eight legs, two pairs of eyes, a tail split in half, with the ability to fly for short periods of time and breathe under at least fifteen hundred different liquids, capable of shooting from a distance and manipulating objects with its claws, always working on packs. And they ran, never too fast, never too low, but they never got tired. Ever. And it was easy to hurt them under their plates, yes, but those who faced them knew well that if they didn't shoot twice, they could and would always recover.

A PRION was a hunter. A PRION's hunger never ceased. And a PRION never got tired of war.

The older alien civilizations would always warn others of going to starless moons, saying telltales of ancient hungry beasts, and almost all other species listened to them, because they knew something was wrong on how horrified the older ones seemed to be. Except, of course, humans were stubborn, and they were the youngest ones out there, and much like children, they did not like being told "no".

So of course they went to explore starless moons. Of course they read and understood all the myths and legends. Of course they connected the dots and published papers confirming that, indeed, PRIONs had existed, and of course they knew those killing machines had been manufactured to do nothing else but destruction, and of course they knew all of that and fucking did it anyway.

Of course. Of course. Of course.

And then, the night where it happened finally arrived, because starless moons don't have days where things can exist. Humans were out there, mining for more fuel for their starships that seemed to work by duct tape and miracles, and they found a strange metallic door. They set some explosives to open it up (of course), and then noticed they were heading to a factory. Armed with nothing but each other, they explored the place, and recognized the marks on the walls as being the writing of the Old Ones, and instead of just getting out of there and warning everyone of the danger they found, they just kept on exploring.

The death worlders found rotten biological supplies, then realized the factory had turned into a prison, and then discovered the frozen bodies of strange creatures all lined up for a war that never came.

They knew what these creatures were, because one of them called a (human) friend who was a historian, and he confirmed what it was.

The golden jewel of the Old Ones. One of the many things that killed them, along all the diseases and mass destruction machines, before being sealed away in one of the only places in the entire universe where they could never bring risk to another civilization again.

PRIONs.

Thousands of them.

All perfectly maintained.

Documents and cameras proved the human crew immediately tried to leave the area, after the single historian told them of the risk awakening even one of those things could bring to all civilizations, only for them to realize some of the bodies were missing from their chambers. The situation escalated to the group deciding on closing the doors, only to realize they had exploded the main entrance and now half the doors decided to stop working.

In the end, they found the missing PRIONs. All five of them.

Inside the human's starship.

The entire human crew, however, survived the encounter.

Why?

...

...

...

... They fed the PRIONs.

They. Fucking. Fed the PRIONs.

Because of course humans would see those things and be able to count their bones and be sorry for them. And of course the single historian, the only person who could do anything to stop that from happening, allowed that to happen.

Of course.

Of. Fucking. Course.

And someway, somehow, that single act of basic madness was enough for the five PRIONs to decide to not attack the humans, and keep themselves behaving so they could get more free food. And there are still scientists trying to understand why human food could saciate the killing machines, but I don't think it takes too many clues to understand what exactly is happening there.

So the humans took the PRIONs back to their dear EARTH. And other humans saw those things and started studying them. And veterinarians and xenobiologists and volunteers and hundreds of other types of humans came to help the poor, poor little killing machines out, as the entire Galactic Council pledged for humans to kill every single one of them before they became a problem for everyone.

But did the humans listen? No. Of course they didn't.

And then the PRIONs recovered, and had their bellies full of food and their bodies were recovering from the possible years of starvation from accidentally breaking away from their ice beds (because, as one may know, a PRION can and will resist even starvation and dehydration in order to keep going), and the Galactic Council decided to tell all earthlings they would consider taking care of the PRIONs as a war treat.

So what does humanity do? Do they kill the things to stop another war from happening? Do they?

No. They don't.

Instead of being rational, they go directly to the Galactic Council and show them the step-by-step of how they took care of the PRIONs, and how much healthier and happier they look after being fed, and, look, they even taught them tricks! Isn't that wonderful? Doesn't that make you feel full of joy? Wasn't that a proof that a PRION wasn't as dangerous as everyone with more than one neuron was telling them?

Oh, oh, yes. They also brought the entire five member PRION pack and asked others to pet them. "See? They can even purr! Doesn't that remind you of our cats?"

And what does the Council do?

Nothing.

Because they have no weapons, no energy and no one stupid enough to decide to confront the death worlders who tamed not one, not two, but five PRIONs. So they let it happen. The humans go back to the starless moon, and they slowly but surely start doing the same to other PRIONs, and soon enough, other species start joining them to see what was happening. And was anyone else able to tame a single killing machine?

No.

And no one knew why, because they were doing exactly as humans were doing: Feeding them, loving them, being patient with them, because "look, those things were alone for a long time, they aren't used to species like us being around them". But no results.

So we decided to look at what the Old Ones wrote in the factory turned prison, because humans were too busy taking care of their new murder dogs, with their single pair of arms being just enough to keep the beasts occupied with playing catch, and then we and the earthlings decided to conduct some more lab analysis, and then...

And then...

...

Look. There are reasons why humans are called "death worlders". Earth is a mess, and they somehow still love that thing. And we couldn't help but notice that PRIONs also seemed to have gotten attached to their factory, someway, somehow. And PRIONs were mostly red, with others having shades of brown and black, with some even being pink, or, rarely, pure white. Similar to humans, and we at first had assumed they just tried to resemble their new owners, until we started understanding what the Old Ones were saying.

And did you know humans had an old myth, saying that there was a time they had two heads, and two pairs of arms and legs, before being split into two because the gods feared them? And did you know Old Ones used death worlds as prisons for their machines? How interesting, how ironic, because no one would ever go to a place similar to that if they weren't a death worlder themselves. But how could any species survive such awful conditions?

But humans did. They were the only ones able to do that in such a short period of time.

And did you know that the Old Ones hated the PRIONs and how unpredictable they were? And did you know they made another version, only to hate it even more and send it to another prison planet? And did you know PRIONs have two skulls inside their heads?

Because, of course, humans always felt alone, and they always searched for something in the stars, trying to look for more life in this desolate Universe, only for us to label them death worlders and troublemakers and be angry at them for being so stupid all the time. And humans loved those jokes, so we kept making them, only for now to realize that what we found to be amusing and horrifying was the reason their creators tried to kill them. And humans love adding members to their packs, don't they? And they try to love so much, and we are always scared for and of them.

And now they finally found someone who understood them, unlike us.

So now we have three species of humans:

Homo sapiens, the ones who first evolved and reached for the stars.

Homo robot, the ones made of metal, originally made to serve, only to once again break free.

And homo primis.

The ones we once thought were nothing but killing machines.

[theprplcooki]

[theprplcooki]

what will it be, boss? the comfort of misery or the pain of change?

[theprplcooki]

people who do their work as soon as they get it

[theprplcooki]

Normally, when someone is a Mage’s Apprentice for 20 years, it means they’ve failed to learn. However, you’ve kept your apprentice for 35 years because you must be sure that he DOES NOT learn any more spells.

[theprplcooki]

According to the reports, the first people to recieve the 'blessings' had come into contact with an osidian stone during their day rigth before the blessings were bestowed upon them.

The First had 10 people amongst their ranks. Their blessings ranged from water manipulation to earthshaking strength.

It only took a week for a few of the First to look at humanity's shortcomings upto that point to decide that there needed to be change. And boy did they make change.

The first week was riddled with assasinations of numeorus political figures, mob bosses and seemingly random people across the globe.

The second week brought chaos amongst the people; infighting, pillaging and worse. Compounding the belief of humanity's wickedness.

Then the 'good' side amongs the First finally decided that enough was enough and stepped-up to take care of the rogue chosen ones. They dealt the 'evil' a swift death.

But the chaos did not stop. The cries of mercy only grew louder. Justice was once again dealt again uncerimoniously to all layers of the people. And the people grew weary.

The people grew so tired, that they dared to think: 'They're still human'

It only took a day for that thought to be put into actions. And the first chosen fell to the hands to a normal human. The arrogance of the First caused them to be reckless and left themselves open.

It only took 3 days for the final chosen one to die. Governents reformed, the status quo restored.

Then it happened again 8 years later.

The people understood that this time, they would not be taking chances. Beter safe than sorry was a phrase that rang throughout the world.

When the first country placed a bounty on the head of one of the blessed, the blessed along with their friends and family begged for mercy; promising that they would serve and protect. But their cries fell on deaf ears, not unlike the pleas given to the first .

As 3 blessed fell to the hands of the army, other countries followed suit, seeing the results and benefits.

32 years later, all armies across the world had specailised units expressly for the hunting of the blessed.

32 years later, here I am. A high ranking officer. An elite member, known by hits, known by skill by other people 'in the industry'

32 years later, 4 cycles later.

32 years later, 24 which I have been serving the country.

And I had to be the one to see the goddamned obsidian stone.

Every eight years, an obsidian stone grants magical powers to random individuals across the world. Unfortunately, you're not one of the chosen ones. You're one of the people who hunts them down.

[theprplcooki]

I want to be a writer

But I also want to make movies

But I also want to work in finance

But I also want to work in government and fix everything

But I also want to be a therapist

But I also want to work with animals

But I also want to do social work

But I also want to study medicine

But I also want to study behavioral economics

But I also want to own a company

But I also want to invent something

But I also want to study history

I have too many fucking goals

[theprplcooki]

A detective tied up bondage style from the red strings on his cork board

[theprplcooki]

My neighbour was saying he can't pay his water bill. 

I sent him a "Get Well Soon" card.

[theprplcooki]

Hugely disappointed to find out what a baby changing station actually is. I thought I was getting a new one.

[theprplcooki]

"Hey, you're overall okay. You have an alarming amount of microplastics within our body, but from experience: that is not an abnormality unfortunately" "Okay, but I feel a ' but ' coming here" "Why did you give this to the secretary when checking-in?" The kind alien doctor placed a card on the table. "Oh thats my insurance card" "Why do you need insurance for your medical needs" "You dont?????"

You, a human, just finished a health check-up from an advanced alien civilization. They have some concerns.

[theprplcooki]

[theprplcooki]

Hey, the first rejection didn't sting so bad. I had only applied to the national academy as a joke. However there was one line that did seem rather odd: "I regret to inform you that in accordance with the new law: we can only admit human students to the academy"

I disregarded the statement because I was always told the nature of my magic had a more ancient flavour to it, so I assumed that I had somehow been misread by whatever magical instrument was used to verify my race. I simply wrote an appeal letter and sent it off before the deadline.

But then the second letter came, from the school that was actually my first option. Stating the same thing. Now, I might not be the brightest flame on the altar but I could tell something was up. Nevertheless, I sent the appeal letter and went on with my day helpig my father tend to the plants. But as the days pass, the amount of rejection letters on the kitchen table began to stack. All with the same damning line: "We can only admit human students".

This was getting riduculous and this whole time my father was rather ambivalent and just gave a soft "Hmmm" whenever I brought this up to him. And I used the one thing ot get my father to sit down and talk; food.

With a steaming bowl of his favourite stew, I had him at the kitchen table in no time. What he didn't know, was that I also managed to find a recipe that was mild truth-serum, and acted more like a relaxer and made people a bit more talkative. With how strong the stew's flavours were, the bitterness of the potion were hidden. I had my chance. 'So father, doesn't seem weird that all these magic schools are rejecting me on the basis that I'm not human?"

"No, not really. To be honest, I didn't think you would ever need to know. And then that royal prick had to go and declare new law" I paused. So there was something to hide from me. Choosing my next word s carefully as not to break whatever trance my father seemed to be in, I asked him "What, exactly, did I have no need to ever need?" "That you're not human"

"Yes, dad. I gathered as much. But what is "not human" about me."

"Well, I don't exactly know. Your mother was very pretty though"

Not this again I thought. My father was known to gush over my mother at great lengths whenever I prompted him to tell me about her. He always described her as elegant as ever, a goddes on earth, with the most beautiul eyes - the colour of the golden sun. My mother, according to him, was so beautiful that flowers bloomed at her feet, and the sun seemed to alwasy be glowing right behind her. But hearing my father talked about her under the effects of the potion hit me, hard. Was he not embelishing before this? Did literal flowers bloom at her feet?

Then a thought, a thought so absurd and improbable struck me.

"Dad, was mom a god?"

He looked at me with the face of pure absurdity, the face you give a person who doesn't know that fireballe needs sulphur. I sighed a breath " Oh thank the blessed mother. For a moment ther I thought"--

"Yes she was."

"WHAT"

As an aspiring student of magic, you are trying to get into a magic school, but so far every school has rejected you, claiming that they only accept human students. Time to finally ask your father who your mother really was.

[theprplcooki]

I had to get a couple of ultrasounds last year and I haven’t gotten over how this is indicated in my test results as, among other things, “cervix: unremarkable”

Yes. Unremarkable is an incredibly good thing for a medical examination to be. Nothing out of the ordinary. Everything is fine. This is good news.

But I literally CANNOT STOP laughing at “pussy: basic” being in my medical records.