A figure in the shadows - Are we all traitors to ourselves?
Jania Nis
((Somewhere))
The shimmering device was much like a triPADD in its function, so much so that the universal translator usually translated its name that way. But in appearance, it was gaudier, glitzier. A single sheet of thin, touch-sensitive glass set inside a golden case; on the side was a thin antenna the device no longer needed; it was simply for show.
It was the only light in the deep dark of the cave. One chitinous finger reached out and tapped the play button on a saved video; the owner was hidden completely.
The sound that blasted from the triPADD was loud and filled the cave with terrible echoes. Its owner made no effort to silence it.
:: a dark room with a zoom in on a Zet’s hand ::
Narrator: Maybe it’s not a whole arm. Maybe it’s just a single finger. Just a bit longer than it should be. But you know we all see it. And you know it’s disgusting. That one long digit. It’s a sign that your rehusking didn’t go like it should’ve. It’s a sign you’re getting older--one step closer to that bluescreen of Permanent Rehusking Failure.
:: rainbows and sunlight::
But it Doesn’t Have to Be That Way. Imagine a world where your limbs are all the right size. Imagine a world where you’re not judged by your appearance--because you’re beautiful. Nrrk’Ti’s Rehuskery can give you that world. Click here for 15% off your introductory consultation survey.
:: the finger hesitates before clicking ‘skip.’ ::
:: A wide-chested Zet man of the winged variety with dazzling text effects flashing around him ::
Makn: Yo it's ya boy Jjj'kl’grath’ Makn back for another session of SLAM POLITICS :: grunts:: where we take the latest political events and SLAM ‘EM down your SPIRACLE. It’s literally all you should and legally could know about Zet politics in two minutes.
:: puts his hands over his face ::
So … hooooooooly freaking Pyramid, man. This Deathless killer Toal’Dius -- you remember this joker? Apparently he rehusked somehow. Be careful out there, and don’t be getting foolish and helping strangers or anything, because there’s a murderer out there and no one knows what he looks like! Here’s an artist’s rendering:
:: shows an image of the Zet cultural equivalent of the Hamburgler ::
The worst part is, he apparently stole a ship and headed to … New Bajor! :: hesitant :: Bay-jor? Ba-JOR? Yeah, anyway, so he’s messing around with the Federation, looks like. Can you believe it? Getting them involved in -our- business -again-? Isn’t that like the second time one of his family went whining to the Federation? If one of those silly pie plate spaceships comes flying around here I’ll shoot them down myself! :: bad graphics of explosions and Makn firing a phaser rifle into the air ::
Dius is a traitor to his whole -species,- brood mate. Not that I’m surprised. We’ve got videos back from -2400- talking crap on that whole -family-, which are reblogged in my stories right now in case you want to see them. Nobody -normal- wants to leave the capital! Only traitors like this fust’ak’a’brin.
Alright, so like, subscribe, follow, share, repost, and don’t get murdered by traitors, my Broodskies! See ya in our next video.
Rll’Toal’Dius neither liked nor shared. Instead, he let out a low, whistling growl that raised in intensity until he whipped the triPADD against the wall. These devices were apparently built for it; it suffered not even a scratch.
When he lifted his hand again, it contained something else--a small vial of a glowing green poison.
Dius: :: in a soft hiss :: Would that we turn and look upon ourselves, we shall find ourselves all to be traitors of a sort. And we shall all burn for our crimes. And you, Makn--I shall set the torch to -your feet- myself, ‘Broodsky.’
Rll'Toal'Dius
Supreme Director
O240108JN2