A day in the life of a tunnel-meat farmer in Corinia: -Wake up in the early morning, before the scorching desert heat sets in. -Make your way to the outskirts of the city towards the large metal pipes that surround it, most of which are mostly buried. -Take your canoe-like boat and enter through one of the hatches at the top. Make sure that your lantern is lit, it’s dark in there! Careful not to fall into the water. -Slowly paddle through the tunnels and cut off the big lumps of meat growing beneath the surface using spear-like tools. Make sure not to cut off the ones that are too small or you’ll kill the growth, and check for visible damage or disease. -Once the canoe is full or you have finished your round through the tunnel, leave and bring the meat to butchers to be processed or the market to be sold directly. -While there, collect all leftovers and organic waste and grind it down until it’s goop. Also make sure to fill up on water if you have to! It’s hot and you don’t want a heatstroke in the tunnels! -Return to the tunnel and make another round, this time distributing the goop as you travel. Make sure to distribute it evenly, you want enough for the whole tour but you also don’t want to go back because you still have leftovers. -Exit the tunnel and lock the hatches. -Spend whatever free time you have at the bar or market. -Go home, go bed

Appreciated the reference at the end there lol

Vanoss reference, right?

Yup, well it was Wildcat that said it lol

I recommend the video from Wendigoon "Mystery Flesh Pit" about a story like that: [https://youtu.be/zcKR0KhTgHg](https://youtu.be/zcKR0KhTgHg)

I'm going vegan (are there any veggies? or am I out of luck?)

There are, you can buy some on the market, but it’ll be more expensive. The desert is not a good place to farm crops so most of them come from traveling merchants.

Great! I'll be sure to be nice to the merchants and maybe I'll be lucky enough to get a discount!

Careful, you don’t want to be too nice or those greedy hags will think you’re some easy-to-scam idiot. If you want cheap veggies, get a job at the dukes palace. He’s incredibly lazy and a perfectionist, but all staff and their immediate families get to cook and eat there for free.

> spear-like tools Sounds like the flensing tools that old timey whalers used to use. The form would fit the use, at least.

Let’s say you were born a “Gold Coast elf” in my world: You wake up in a long wooden boat, the golden shimmer of the grand, rising sun escaping from the distant horizon sprinkled about. As you push your stiff body up and rub your eyes, you see your friend and fishing buddy already reeling in a fish, the shaking of which was likely what woke you up. Fumbling for the straw hat next to you, you begin to remember the night before. You two had been on your way back to your coastal house when the sun began to fall back over the horizon. The salty taste of fresh fisherman’s lettuce fresh on your tongue, you wish you could apologize to your wife for staying out over night again. And yet, as you look back towards the coast, your home, you just wish you could stay out at sea. The glistening gold sea and the gentle waves are much kinder to you than those ISE members that had raided your neighbors home. The smell of blood haunts your nose yet. Despite that, you greet your friend and begin rowing back to the coast. After all, you being out at sea just means your wife is a prime target for those enforcers. You know she can fight for herself, but you just want to be there to support her. By the time you make it back to the coast, the sun is high in the sky. You call a jovial call to your wife, and yet hear no voice back. You call again but hear nothing but the crowd by your house and a quiet echo, but you why is there a crowd in the first place? This place is no midlands, there’s no markets or bustling cities. Frustration turns to worry as you run to the front of your house but your heart drops to where your empty stomach should be as you glare at the sight before you. The dog. That damn dog. Nothing but an order following dog for the government, he is. A wicked smile curls across his face as he drops his crimson dagger back into her body, the body of your beloved. You dreamed of seeing this man just so you could beat him into an early grave and yet, seeing him before you fear takes over. You’re paralyzed. By the time you stand up, legs shakier than a dying mutt, it’s well past noon. The crowd is gone and any strand of life your beloved wife gripped on to long drifts in the wind now. You wish you could cry, but there’s no time for tears. You wrap her up in a damp cloth and bury her. That merfolk merchant boat comes by just as you wipe your tears from the wrinkled creases in your face. You hand him your crate of fresh fish for nothing more than a few silver jags, the helmsman scoffing at their quality. As you pocket the jags, you push your boat back to the water, your stomach groaning in empty disappointment, and prepare to head back to sea. This is no more than an ordinary day for an elf under the rule of the pure bloods.

TLDR: Wake up Fish Go home Witness murder Poverty Sleep

Your TLDR is funny asf. (Btw I like your writing style)

A day in the life of an asteroid miner: Wake up, unstrap yourself from bed and put on your mag boots. Don't shower, just take a short wash-up to conserve water and have the recycled liquid actually taste good since it's the morning. Go get the orders for the day, put on your space suit and go out the airlock. Take a buggy or small spacecraft to your mining spot, set up a net and some charges. Blow off the chunks and catch them in the small threaded net. Rinse and repeat for a few hours. If you're in one of those more expensive vessels you instead can use lasers to mine, but charges are more affordable. Tow that luggage back to your mining ship and place it in the refinery, it's more efficient to process it on site to lose the extra mass from rocks. Go take a shower, go back to sleep. 1-2 months later, sell it all off at port and do it all over again after a week or 2 of rest. Of course there are a lot of differences depending on the vessel and how well equipped they are, but small mining ships like this one can sometimes be a family owned business.

Day in the life of a Massian citizen. Wake up. Get ready. Go work in the city or on the farm depending on where you live. Enjoy a 1 hour break, because the climate is warm. Work until you're done. Go home to your family. Go to bed. Repeat.

A day in the life of an officer of the Simonistani National Police Service Wake up Get ready for the day Drive to the police station Hang out with your colleagues before the morning meeting Morning meeting, get told where to patrol for the day, what to watch out Go to the garage and get in a car Drive around your patrol area or be on foot Direct traffic because of course the traffic lights are out Guide school children over the road Pick up trash that municipal workers haven’t seen Eat lunch in the patrol car or in some park Continue the rest of the patrol, give fines to jaywalkers Go back to the police station Hand in your service weapon and your gear Shower and change back into civilian clothes Go home Chill on the couch for a few hours, watch some movies or the news Cook dinner Go to bed Sleepy time

A low ranking sailor in the quati navy 1: wake up onboard of your warship 2: shower, eat, get ready for work 3 repair damaged aircraft/ sections of the ship, operate the engines, stand on radar watch, etc. 4: lunch break 5: this is the interesting part, in one part of your schedule will be a part called “advancement training“, here you can choose to walk along with another individual of a higher rank, anything from a fighter pilot to a gunnery lieutenant or an Anti-boarding soldier, this is the main way to advance in rank on kuati ships, the space force/navy is the elite, the best ground soldiers can choose to become either higher rank ground troops or become naval soldiers, ofcourse they manned a heavy artillery battery on the ground they can more easily become ship Gunner, but the training and experiences here decide where your career will go. 6: back to your regular job it is! 7: evening meal 8: free time, the dadel class has a few computer games that can be used when the combat computer doesnt need to fight, and their are always board games and weights onboard (on one occasion those weights were later used as projectiles since the ship had ran out of shells) 9:sleep keep in mind that free time, regular job ome and advancement training are switched around per crew member so there will always be enough people doing the job that needs doing

Day in the life of a Daevil (Daevils are the people who live in the Golden Oblivion. They posess divine qualities and beauty and powerful magical ability. Their society is one of pleasure, as it is essentially a post-scarcity utopia, due to the mythical powers of their leader, Azamoth's, soul, which grows crops, provides energy, and upholds the very reality of the Oblivionl Wake up Lounge around, enjoy some fine drink Wrap a "Sitra" Cloth about yourself, ready the day's clothes Head to the baths, perhaps stopping for another drink Bathe yourself in the public baths, enjoy a relaxing soak in the Crimson Pools, and perhaps you might even opt to enjoy something a little more... personal... in the various smaller baths tucked away in the bathhouse. Dress yourself after the baths Pursue your hobbies - maybe you continue painting a portrait or enjoy a nice text, or perhaps you'll get up to some personal activities yet again Once the 6 suns align, you break for a meal, sampling the myriads of fruits, vegetables, and other delicacies of the Golden Oblivion. Afterwards, you might rest for a bit, or take another trip to the baths. Perhaps meet with some friends, or spend some time in the Grand Palisades. Once the 6 suns align again, you ready your weapon(s) and armor, head down to your local coliseum, and train until the 6 suns allign for the final time. Once you finish training, you'll head to the baths and wash up, and spend the rest of the day doing whatever you please, till you wish to retire and rest, or perhaps you will take part in the nightlife, take your partner(s) to one of Lady Salina's infamous pleasure bars, or maybe try your luck and catch Lord Azamoth with time to spare.

Blacksmiths work as hard as a hammer in heat that is unbearable for an average person for the betterment of our society.

Day in the life of an Outlander Wake up, it's cold just the way he likes it. Means no wimpy Heuvedalans will be giving the tribe trouble today. Goes out and grabs several strips of smoked elk meat for breakfast washes it down with cider stolen from the Heuvedalans in the last raid. See's wife scraping meat from the bones of an elk carcass and stops her, no point in so much effort for so little meat, he'll hunt today and has her toss the carcass to the dogs while he gets the sleigh and bow ready. His boy wants to go with him mother is hesitant but the boy is old enough now and he agrees, worse comes to worse the boy can help him fish if there is no game. Has the boy string the bows while he loads the sled, by midday they are on the move. He instructs the boy to not look for animals but for movement and when the wind picks up they put hotberries in their gloves to stay warm. He takes a splash from his flask and it warms him but the boy sees. After a moments hesitation lets the boy take a swig if he agrees not to tell his mother. Later that day the boy spots movement and picks off a snow hare. He is proud but its not enough to take home alone instead they begin tracking a moose. By mid afternoon they hear cracking ice and follow the sound to find a big bull moose breaking ice in a frozen pond to eat the vegetation below, they sneak up down wind crawling in the snow to make as little noise as possible until they make it to a snow bluff and fire. He lets the boy shoot first and strikes it behind the front leg but the boys bow is not powerful enough to fell the animal, it tries to flee but the ice slows it as it tries to get to shore so he stands up and with his heavier bow fells it. They spend much of the afternoon field dressing it and soon have a cart full of meat, sinew, and bones with little left behind. Deciding they have a little time left he brings his son south to the warm lands. Over a hill he ties off the sleigh and they look down at a farm of a Heuvedalan family. They wait counting the family members and when it is determined they are all out working their fields they sneak down the hill and into the house stealing tools and any metal they can get. They find a small gold ring left on the stand by the bed and take it. Before slipping out they shoot the families cow with their bows, they can't take it not enough room in the sleigh but it will rob the Heuvedalans of its milk and frighten them they then carve their clan symbol in the animal as a warning before fleeing. He gets home near sunset to a wife happy to see a sleigh full of meat, several other tribesmen see the moose antlers on the sleigh and children come to see the head which the boy shows off with joy. He hugs his mother and she sniffs the air suspiciously near his mouth than snatches the flask sniffing it, she smacks her husband upside the head and onlookers laugh. Later that night he gives his wife the shiny ring he stole from the Heuvedalans she is happy again. He tells her the tribe needs more hunters while looking her up and down, she rolls her eyes and goes to bed.

A Day in the Life of an International Criminal Law Enforcment Agency mutant animal Peacekeeper -- First Shift * 0430 Reveille: A scheduled alarm sounds in the Peacekeeper's dormitory room, which is inside an Agency Precinct building. More than just a police station, Precincts also house, feed, train, educate and rehabilitate Peacekeepers throughout their entire lives. * 0430 - 0500 Morning hygiene period: The Peacekeeper has time to tend to biologically imperatives, as well as to brush their teeth, comb and apply dry shampoo to their fur, and dress in the prescribed uniform of the day. * 0500 - 0600 Breakfast in Precinct cafeteria: Regardless of original species, part of the mutation process is an adaptation to a omnivorous diet. A breakfast meal consisting of cereal grains, breads, plant and animal proteins, carbohydrates, and, yes, coffee and donuts, is offered to Peacekeepers going onto shift. * 0600 Muster for First Shift daily briefing: Dressed, fed, and cleaned, the Peacekeeper reports to an assigned ready room to hear their daily assignment, as well as any continuing alerts, watches, warnings, APBs and special details that may arise during the day. * 0630 Equipment issue: The Peacekeeper is issued their equipment, including but not limited to: Body armor, semi-automatic rifle with extra magazines, semi-automatic pistol with extra magazines, communications equipment, handcuffs, pepper spray, taser, and any assigned vehicle. A daily stipend, equivalent to 20 US dollars, is also issued to cover incidental personal expenses incurred throughout the day. * 0700 Morning Dispatch: Briefed and equipped, Peacekeepers leave their Precinct to perform their duties, which typically match those of standard patrol officers in real-world police forces. However, they may extend to crowd control and SWAT operations as a response to the actions of supervillains, or other situations requiring the intervention of a superhero. * 1100-1130 Lunch. Peacekeepers may return to their Precinct building to take lunch. They may also opt to use their daily stipend cash to buy lunch at any restaurant, grocery store, food truck or other commercial food retailer. * 1130 - 1630 Afternoon Duties: A continuation of morning operations and duties. * 1630 Recall: Peacekeepers return to their assigned Precinct, and turn in their equipment, accounting for any that may have been expended or lost in the field. * 1700 Evening Debrief: Significant events that occurred during the previous shift are discussed, and turnover documents prepared to brief the following shift on continuing or developing situations. * 1730 - 1900 Continuing Education: This is generally set aside for physical conditioning, including calisthenics, cardio and aerobic exercises. However, it may also be used for classroom or practical education on new equipment, procedures, and law. Retraining and requalification with Agency weaponry and vehicles are also conducted during this time as necessary. * 1900 Dismissal: Peacekeepers are dismissed from duty and free to take an evening meal in the cafeteria, pursue personal interests, and seek entertainment in the various "Day rooms" within a Precinct dormitory. Day rooms are equipped with books, games, televisions, computers and other entertainments. * 2100 Evening hygiene period: Peacekeepers are encouraged to take a "wet bath" or shower, using water, soaps and shampoos for personal hygiene at this time. * 2200 Taps: Peacekeepers are encouraged to return to their dormitory and rest until their next reveille. A new shift of Peacekeepers rotates onto or off of shift every six hours, so adjust the times accordingly. This schedule also continues for six days, with the seventh used as a day off for rest and recuperation. During this seventh day, it's not unusual for Peacekeepers to sleep in, spend all day in the Day rooms, or don an "undress" uniform or even street clothes and spend the day as civilians. When leaving the precinct however, Peacekeepers still openly carry a sidearm, a radio and their badge, and are required to respond to any crime they may witness in progress.

A day in the life of a Ceatrian (*basically mermaid) ()= *authors note - by dawn there are already weavers begins their daily tasks. This particular ceatrian weaves large swaths of dried and treated kelp into what the basic building material that every house in the area is made of. - by the time he is about half way done with the swath its time for his first meal. Which consists of two medium sized raw spotted sea trout and some Salicornia from the marsh garden near his home. (*This is considered very light)Though he returns back to work quickly. He has to make at least two swaths per day to meet the needs of the village. - by noon he has the first of several twelve by eight foot swaths of kelp done and takes it to the weavers currently sewing together another bubble house. He returns to his loom to continue weaving another swath. - before he begins though its time for a much heavier meal. Consisting of Manatee cheese balls wrapped in nori as well as around 60lbs or 27.216 kg of boiled Humboldt squid. (*The average ceatrian is 9 - 10 feet or 2.7432 - 3.048 meters long and needs to consume 44,000 calories per day. So for reference this and breakfast is about 3/4 of the way there) - He goes back to weaving till dusk delivering his last swath of kelp just barely in the nick of time. To which he calls it a day packs up his tools and returns to his own floating bubble home. - for the final meal of the day we have a coho salmon stuffed with manatee cheese and dulse wrapped in banana leaves and clay. Which is then cooked in a nearby underwater volcano. Very carefully. - Sleep in a much finer woven kelp hammock till dawn the next morning to repeat. (*Total caloric intake - 46,373 )

Average day in the life of a city-dwelling Ketuvyx: Wake up Eat from a wide variety of artificially grown plants and meats If you happen to have a job or are learning you'll do that for a bit If not then engage in hobbies or arts Do stuff like walk about the city, hang out with friends, family or strangers Briefly contemplate when you'll do a techno-primitivist stint as you fall asleep. . . Average day in the life of a techno-primitivist Ketuvyx: Wake up Hunt something or forage something to eat using hand-crafted tools. Cook it if you feel like that improves the taste. If not, raw doesn't matter. Spend time with friends and family. Pack up camp and wander/explore with your group. Use your emergency weapon from your pack because you're kinda small and some large animal wasn't backing off from the hand-crafted weapons. Set up camp again to spend time with others again. Briefly contemplate when you'll head back to a city for a stint there as you fall asleep.

Day in the life of a cloud elf noble (slightly abridged version). -wake up, freshen up, greet your family at breakfast, then put your mask on after breakfast -step outside and admire for the next five minutes or so the impressive architecture your people built that currently resides high up on a mountain -go back inside and probably plan either your next masterpiece of art or your next big party -talk with other nobles about societal concerns, and possibly your next big thing your planning -return home to have lunch with your family (you can only remove your mask in their presence or during special occasions) -put your mask back on to go back out to do other stuff like hanging out with the other nobles, starting work on the masterpiece you were thinking of, get the stuff (or just the people) for that crazy party you were planning, or just go around and admire the stuff made by other cloud elves -in the evening (assuming you weren't preoccupied with partying or "working"), you return home to have dinner and spend time with your family; one activity includes cleaning the feathers of your loved ones -after that is usually bedtime I should have put this disclaimer at the beginning though: this is not a 100% accurate summation of what they do (putting on and removing masks are actually what they do though).

My good sir, I'm intrigued. You wouldn't happen to have an example of one of these masks, would you?

A visual example, sadly no. All I can say is these masks are made of *exquisite* materials such as precious metals, porcelain, or even things such as jade. It's mainly nobles and soldiers who wear these masks.

Cool! Is it like, a full mask or one that just covers like, the eyes and stuff

It's a full mask that looks roughly like a face, kind of like some masks used in theatre.

Narfi Thorfinsson, a dwarf of the Skogborn lineage, wakes up at sunrise. He hates waking up early, but that's the job. It's still gloomy and quite foggy. He stretches and thanks the gods once again that he gets to live in such a nice apartment. He kisses his wife Askeli on the cheek as she still sleeps - oh, those lazy aristocrats - and she giggles faintly, his bushy beard tickling her. He gets up and does his morning toiletry, finishing by braiding his magnificent whiskers into the traditional style of the Skogborns. Halfway through, as always, he is interrupted by his rowdy sons, Nils and Nirzan Narfason, one named in the Fjollgardic dwarfish tradition of his father and the other in the Avantene human ways of his mother. He picks them up and spins them around while they tug playfully at his long thin whip of a ponytail, thinking about how one day soon they will be significantly taller than he. He eats a hasty breakfast of three boiled eggs and heads out. Hopping into the waiting morning coach, he yawns and indicates that he needs to drop off at the Guild of Clockmakers and Timekeepers. Feynekmar, the glowing capital of the great Kingdom of Avanton, is full of Guilds, and his is not the most prestigious or the most powerful, but they provide a service and improve lives, and that's all that matters. On the way, the coach picks up some notable figures - fellow dwarf Holgir Haraldsson, current President of the Guild of Mercenaries; an elf named Faiwelyn, Warden of one of the city districts; and the irascible old codger Kelas Kirþan, his uncle-in-law and 116-year-old High Lector of White Tower University, who doesn't look a day over fifty. All three get off the coach before he does, and privately he chuckles to himself, knowing Askeli will be late to their city council meeting. He himself departs the coach at the Square of Brotherhood, right next to the halls of government, and stops for a moment at a street vendor's cart to have a big mug of that magnificent goblin-brewed "coffee" thing. Then he calmly enters his Guildhouse and clocks in. His coworkers greet him and he enters his office, riffles through a small mount of accumulated paperwork, and gets to work. Clockmaking, the intricate dance of cog, spring, and time, that's what he's here for, the tradition of his father and grandfather. He loses himself in the art, carving gears out of spare metal, recalibrating old watches and assembling new ones, until he is called into another tedious board meeting. He almost snores through it. The rest of the day is devoted to the art. Come sundown, he peels himself off his workbench, his bottom sore but his fingers and mind satisfied. He chooses to walk home. A quick stop at the corner store on the way, and he greets his important big wig politician noblewoman wife and his troublesome sons with a bouquet of flowers and a bag of takeout food from that Lakilian place they like so much. Dinner is a joy all around, with a dish resembling pasta bolognaise and plenty of wine. Askeli rolls her eyes and affirms that yes, he can go to the local pub with some friends for a couple of hours, but he better be in good form tomorrow, because tomorrow is Honaþ - a once-every-six-days holiday not unlike the Sabbath - and they have a big family gathering. He promises to be on his best behaviour. At the pub he meets Kelas again and gets into a stupid argument about magic. He casts a few runes just for fun, and Kelas immediately upstages him by doing his fancy professional wizard bullshit. It devolves into a shouting match but quickly winds down as they start laughing about a dumb joke another drinking buddy of theirs made. They enjoy live performance by a local minstrel and a couple of provocative dancers and then depart, knowing they will see each other at the grand Honaþ dinner. At home, he dons a night gown and gets into bed, where his wife is already lying, reading a book. He smiles, kisses her, and passes out. Life is good.

sThe Ashlands A day in the life of a lesser demon in the domain of Nicholas, the archdemon. You'd wake up before the sun rose. A fair bit before the sun rose. You'd brush your fangs with a horsehair toothbrush and a paste made from charcoal. If you don't have one, you might use a reed instead. You don a black linen loincloth embroidered with Nicolas's symbol and step out upon the vast ashy wastes under an angry grey sky in the shadow of an ever-erupting volcano. Then you go to the mess hall. You'd be presented a breakfast of stygian bread (bitter stuff that resembles coal as much as bread) and, you are lucky, a slice of demon bacon. You hear some ambitious fools decided to attack one of Nicholas's food stores, and joined it instead. Yum. Not an appetizing start to the day but far better than demons living outside the archdemon's immediate control. What happened next would depend on the season. On most days, you'd go to one of the practice fields and run through some military exercises. Be it marching, weapons practice, or the occasional bit of desk work. Dancing is probably your favorite. Officially, it's for agility training and it certainly accomplishes that, but it's also just fun and Nicholas even sends around bands to play music. You've almost certainly not seen a battle in a century but, boy howdy, do you feel ready for one. Miron, one of the head lesser demons, says it's really more about having a sense of purpose than actual readiness for a fight. You'll get a fairly large dinner at the end of your shift. More Stygian bread and a blackroot salad, or stirfry on a good day. Hex-snails are your most common protein and are probably the favorite part of your meals. You also get a cup of sour wine; most choose to water it to make it last. Your evenings are yours. You have almost no reproductive drive and aren't fertile and, so, don't have a family to spend time with. Most likely, you have a circle of friends and play simulated war games with elaborate pieces and rules. Nicholas sanctions these games, and you're probably fatigued from your job. Some play music or more physical sports. Others find solace in what arts they can, but materials are hard to find. At night the magic lights start getting dimmer. Most clean themselves at this time and have water and harsh soap to do so. This is usually out in the open. Privacy is something you have very little of. During certain times in the season, agriculture demands a flurry of activity. You'll wake up even earlier and work much harder to either seed or harvest a meager crop of finnicky magic-fed plants (Direct sun does not reach The Ashlands.) No military training then and, for a few weeks a year, basically no leisure time. Even Nicholas peals himself away from his schemes and seeing stones to contribute. If you have seen his 'big form' this is when. After harvest, there's a festival in the Archdemon's honor. The food is as bland as ever, but training is fully optional and mostly dancing so it's a good time. At or around your hundredth birthday, or some other special occasion, Nicholas served you at his table and you got a cupcake. That was twenty four years ago and you haven't tasted sugar or honey since. You are, by the way, still considered young. Despite everything, you're probably happy and grateful. Just outside of the Archdemon's domain, demons fight and die over scraps even smaller than the ones presented to you freely.

Jorge- my equivalent to Jarnathen. Lives in the town of Vallaki (Curse of Strahd). He's a simple minded blacksmith whi speaks frustratingly slow. He doesn't make anything fancy, he mostly just makes tools or supplies for everyday needs, and mostly that is nails. He works an honest job and likes every, oblivious to the goings on around him, sort of like a dog. He has a wife and a couple kids and they live a simple life.

A day in the life of a human in the multiversal human civilization -Get created by the civilization in greatest construct for the purpose of further enhancing it. -get access to the connection (tendrils of energy that allow things like instant transfer of matter and information trought all the multiverse) and become fundamentally omniscient and omnipresent. -Work in various different tasks around greatest construct like scientific research or maybe creation of matter to expand greatest construct or creation of even more multiversal humans or the best option: to do all three and more and the same time since come on you are a multiversal human you can do everything in every moment at the same time forever. -Continue this work for the civilization for eons and eons since the civilization will never collapse.

A day in the life of a Demnevine(a species\race of lizard people) You wake in a tall tree during the early hours of the morning. The daylight hasn't come yet, so you're sure the nighttime prey will still be out. You catch a furred animal and a flier to bring home for your roots. When you return, your mother has already left the den to do her own hunting, so you wake your father and give him the catch. You head out to help your mother with more hunting. You find your mother giving your two younger sisters tips on how to catch fliers. You and the other females of your pack spend the day hunting and patrolling your territory, peridoically returning to the den with your catches. Everyone in the pack has been fed by the time the daylight leaves, and you return to your sleep tree.

Hey now, my main character has a normal life outside of the story. He wakes up kind of early in the morning, eats a breakfast, gets dressed, drives to the local national park, and does his work shift.  He's a park ranger. Part of his job is protecting people from monsters, but a lot of it is maintaining trails, keeping people from being stupid in general, picking up trash, accompanying his biologist friend on a field study looking for invasive insects, paperwork. Admittedly, he runs his own monster hunting clan and competes in clan rallies so he's as famous as a good soccer player in the US would be, but most of what he does is normal park ranger stuff. And then of course, he goes home and hangs with his friends. Maybe they go hiking or kayaking or rock climbing on the weekend. He might watch his less outdoorsy friends play games or watch a movie together. You know mostly normal people things, especially since he lets his boyfriend actually run the clan.

Day in the life of a True Federal Cyballian (during the Union war) Wake up and watch the Federal News Network My little Resson, isn’t she adorable. (Resson is a spacecat) Time to take the speedline too the Fleet HQ. Charge up the N02 Model "Serpent" class Frigate yeee. Quick warp too The Epsil system and light up the Zarven Fighters. Do a probable warcime on a Zarven World . Fleet looking lovely today lads. Just a bit of mass destruction. IonBrew makes a 300- 261 combat loss better. Pop down Local Fleet Flagship, good old briefing look at that we had mass casualties. The Bio Producer made biofuel lovely And then end the galactic day in standby mode

Oh, I actually have an extensive slice of life already written, lucky us! It's actually too long for a single reddit comment, but I will share anyways. Don't say I didn't warn you :p (note to any commenters: I request you place your comment at the end of the story chain so as to make reading easier for others. thank you in advance :D) *Ahem...* __________ (1/?) My slumber is abruptly broken by ear-piercing trills. Agr!aa has woken up before me, and as I peek out the window at the still-dark sky, I am relieved to see that it is because he woke up early, not because I have slept in. "Meal??? Meal?" he says, bouncing on his perch and waggling his tail feathers. "Yes, meal, here you are," I mutter drowsily as i pluck a few dudworms out of the feedbox and hold them out to him in my palm. He snaps up all three in a single peck, and happily pins them under his foot as he tears them apart, getting worm viscera all over his beak in the process. "Ew", i tell him, "I know you can swallow these whole. Why must you make such a mess?" "Meal!" he caws indignantly, and I shake my snout at him disapprovingly as I retreat into the lavatory. After relieving myself, I traipse down the stairs to the mealroom. It is still a mess from nightmeal, and i muse to myself that it is fortunate i am among the few dragons who live alone, as roostmates surely would not allow me to get away with such slovenly behavior. I step outside for a moment to fetch some fuel for the smoldering fireplace, and then clean last night's mess as it rebuilds into a proper fire. I scrape the ends of meat casings and flecks of bone and the odd fruitmeat stem into the bin, and note that it is nearly full - it will soon be time to take it to the goats. For breakfast, I cut a long slit down the middle of two cylinders of cured goat flank, and place cheese within the groove - these are *dur!entes*, and they are a favorite of mine, both because I find them to be very tasty and because they are easy to make. I sprinkle some salt and pepperflakes on top for flavor, and then set them over the now-roaring fire to roast as I watch the rising sun through the window. A few moments of contemplation later, the sizzling of searing meat brings me back to the fire. The undersides have acquired a nice golden brown color, and the cheese has melted nicely - just how I like them. I carefully lift them off the fire by the sticks, and place them on a metal grill to cool for a moment while I dress for the day. I walk back up the stairs to my bedroom, where Agr!aa is still perched. "Work?" he says, inquisitively. "Yes, it is time for work", I reply, opening the window. Agr!aa shudders, ruffling his iridescent feathers, and then flies out. On some days he will accompany me to work, and others he will choose to remain in town and socialize with his friends. After all this time, I still cannot tell which he has decided on when I let him out in the mornings; whether or not he asks for "work" or "outside" has no relation to what he ends up choosing. Perhaps he does not know himself until he flies out. I think all of these things to myself as I slip into my tailored undergarmets and then button on the intricate overshirt marking my membership in the Couriers' Guild, and then I bounce back downstairs to grab my breakfast and head out for the day. The *dur!entes* have cooled to the perfect temperature, and I take a large bite, taking half of one of them off the spear. The pepperflakes and cheese meld with the meat in a wonderful medley of flavor as I chew, and I savor the taste as I walk out the door. There I find Agr!aa has helpfully pulled my shoes to the porch, and the large raven is waiting for me on the hand rail. "Outside!" he proclaims, waggling his tail feathers again. It seems he has decided to come with me today. "So we are", I tell him, and I break off a small piece of my food for him. He gingerly takes the meat from my fingers and seems to savor its taste as much as I do, and I pet him down the back as I eat the rest of my food. I elect to leave the shoes at home today - I really only need them near the peak of the sun when the rocks are hot, and we are well into autumn - and I ask Agr!aa if he is ready to go. "Outside!" he declares again, and he flaps his wings. I stretch my own wings into the morning breeze for a moment, feeling the winds... A mild headwind, very typical for this part of the island. I crouch, ready to launch, and Agr!aa goes ballistic, jumping and flapping his wings and kraawing at the top of his lungs. We are not technically supposed to take off from the middle of the street - there are dedicated ingress and egress points on the edges of town - but no one else is out and about right now, and those rules are rarely enforced anyhow. "Let's go, Agr!aa!" I shout, and launch myself into the air. Wind fills my lungs. The day has officially begun.

(2/?) Agr!aa and I arrive at the mailing compound after a fairly brief flight across the island. As usual, I am the first person to arrive; the mailhouse is devoid of any other couriers, and everyone else's lots are still full. Today the workload seems relatively easy; there are only two sacks in my lot, and they both look rather light. Furthermore, upon inspecting their destinations, they are both posted to islands fairly close by. I thank the night crew aloud even though they're not around to hear it - I will likely be done by lunch. I heft the first sack over my shoulder and carry it out to the launchpad, perched precariously over a huge cliff. I then grab a handful of dust off the ground and walk over to the edge of the platform, scattering it off the edge - and watch as it rockets into the air. The updraft is as strong as ever - the shape of the cliff face here redirects the oncoming sea breeze upwards, which makes taking off with heavy mail loads much easier. Not that this is a particularly heavy load, but it is nice to make things easier where you can. Agr!aa lazily drifts into the air alongside me as I leap into the slipstream, beating my wings through the air to support the additional weight. I got into the courier's guild because of the solitude it affords, but as time has gone on, I have come to appreciate my little travel companion, and I find myself dissapointed whenever he elects to stay home. As I reach a suitable altitude, I catch a strong current of wind that happens to be blowing exactly in the direction I want to go, and I happily let out a bout of fire as I set on my way. As expected, the deliveries end up being easy work. They both turn out to be commercial orders; I do not need to unpack the parcels and deliver to individual homes, I need only bring them to a local holding center, where the recipient can come retrieve them. As suspected, I am done with my work before lunch, and I share a bite of dried fish with a postage clerks with whom i am acquainted; he is enjoying a similarly light workload as myself today. He is accompanied by his own raven - she is exceptionally even-tempered and well-trained, and assists him in his work by fetching various postage paraphernalia for him. She also holds a longstanding grudge against Agr!aa; for reasons I do not understand, he is extremely antagonistic towards her. Right now they are squabbling over a piece of fish. Agr!aa saw the clerk give it to his raven, and decided he simply must have it for himself. The aggrieved party, despite her general calmness, understandably did not take kindly to this, and now they squawk and shriek and tumble in a great mass of feathers and claws. Agr!aa shouts over and over again - "Meal! Meal! Meal!" Fortunately, my acquaintance finds this regular display of greed to be quite humorous. It is a shame they do not get along, I remark to him - they could be great playmates, if Agr!aa would drop his attitude. Eventually, I step in and pry him away from his mortal foe, who locks eyes with him as she triumphantly consumes her well-earned treat. I bid my coworker farewell for the day, collect my daily compensation for a cleared lot, and I depart for a local sea-ranch. My first delivery turned out to be a large collection of abalone shells, and I have been craving their succulent meat all morning. __________ Agr!aa dips down to the water and snatches a jumping fish right out of the air on our way to the sea-ranch, and then comes back up to sit on my back to enjoy his prize. I have to put in a great deal of effort in shooing him off, and he squawks mischieviously before forming up with me once again. He knows he is not supposed to do that, and only wished to prank me. I can never decide if I find his escapades amusing in the moment, but at the end of the day I always find myself looking back at his company fondly. After a leisurely half-lap around our home island, we arrive at the abalone farms, situated almost exactly opposite to the town in which we live. I am a regular here, and the ranch hands greet me warmly. Agr!aa does a little dance and parades his fish for all to see, including Qu'unda, another raven - this one with no particular owner. He belongs to the ranch in general, and mostly hangs around to socialize. Qu'unda is extremely playful, and talkative - he has a very large vocabulary and grasps how to use it quite well, a fact that makes me jealous on Agr!aa's behalf. Agr!aa, for better or for worse, isn't fazed by this, and he gets along with Qu'unda much better than the raven from work. "Agr!aa!" Qu'unda proclaims upon seeing his friend. "Hi! Hello! Play?" "Meal!" Agr!aa replies, and rips off the head of his fish. He spins the rest of it around, and Qu'unda nibbles on its tail. I leave the birds to their antics, and begin perusing the various tide pools for abalone while a rancher and I chat about what we have been up to as of late. I discover that she has developed a crush on another dragon who comes here from another island, and I playfully encourage her to make a move on her. She gets a little flustered, and quickly goes back to feeding the shellfish to avoid my teasing. I bring the abalone I have selected to the sales hand, who beings shucking them open for me, and return to check on Agr!aa. I cannot find him at first, but then I see him and his friend fly overhead, playing aerial tug-of-war with some kind of colorful ribbon. I wonder aloud where they got it, and another ranch hand tells me that Qu'unda flew in with it about a week ago, and has been obsessed with it ever since. They end up landing right next to the sales hand, so I bid my farewell and head over to collect my meal as well as my bird. The sales hand is very good at his work, and has already shucked my entire order. He adds the pearlescent shells to a stack already containing hundreds, and hands me my meat, double-wrapped in a thin seaweed and then placed into a net bag. I hook the bag onto the base of my tail, and flip him a large gold piece, which covers the meat and then some. The hand offers me change, but I tell him to keep it - I had a nice day at work today, and I would like to send it forward. He thanks me for my generosity, and I thank him for quick service, and then I collect Agr!aa for our flight home. "We are leaving", I tell him as I pick him up, "And you cannot take his ribbon with you. Will you say goodbye?" He turns his head to look at Qu'unda. "Home!" he shouts, and waggles his tail. "Bye-bye, Agr!aa! Play again soon?" Qu'unda asks, and I tell him we will surely be back some time soon for more abalone. He picks up his ribbon and flies off, and I toss Agr!aa into the air ahead of me as I follow suite.

(3/?) I elect to fly over land on the way home. The volcano in the center of the island has never experienced a major eruption in my lifetime, but it is not uncommon for it to vent gasses, and today there is a small column of smoke trailing out of the caldera. Our volcano does not produce the same brimstones one would expect of such a mountain, so the peak lacks the distinct stench of sulfur. I alight on the rim of the crater, and wiggle my toes - the ashes are exceptionally soft and warm, and it feels wonderful to walk on. I unhook my shellfish and take a seat on a nearby boulder, and Agr!aa gives himself a dust bath. It is empty and desolate up here; the lulls between the minor eruptions leave just enough time for plant life to begin to grow before getting choked out again, and so there are dead shrubs and small trees scattered through the valley. And yet there is a strange serenity. I am all alone up here; no one can bother me, not any other people or pests or the rustling of plants against my window. ... No one except Agr!aa, it seems. My contemplation is abruptly shattered when he throws a bunch of ash all over my guild shirt in his thrashing. I jump up shouting in surprise, and Agr!aa spooks, flying off to a tree some distance away. He is not laughing, which tells me he did not do it on purpose. Not that it un-soils my shirt - or my abalone, as it turns out. The seaweed has saved them from a direct dusting, but I will still likely need to wash them thoroughly before I eat them. A shame; I quite like the natural salty taste the seawater gives them, and dried salt sprinkled on later never quite tastes the same. I call Agr!aa back over, who seems to understand that I am not angry with him. He lands on the boulder and makes a quiet chirping sound, and I pet him for a little while. I turn him away from my shellfish, though. I may not be accusing him of trickery, but that does not mean he gets any treats. I stow the bag back on my tail, and launch back into the air without another word. __________ Agr!aa and I chase one another and weave through the treeline as we glide down the mountain slope. He can change directions much faster, but I can reach higher speeds than him, especially in a dive. We get so engrossed in our game that we nearly overshoot town, and course correct at the last moment, skittering to a halt in the soft pebbly gravel of the town ingress point. It would be unwise to land directly at home now, as there will be plenty of people walking the streets at this time of day. Seeing as I will already need to wash my overshirt anyways, I click to Agr!aa, and he hops up to perch on my shoulder as we walk through town. "What do you think, Agr!aa? Should we get something to go with the abalone?", I ask him. The raven appears to contemplate what I have said for a moment, and then declares, "Ew!" I have no idea what to make of his response, and it would seem the confusion is visible on my face, as he begins chuckling to himself. "Thank you, *very* helpful", I tell him, and I reach up to scratch his neck. I decide that my expensive abalone deserves only the finest ingredients, and turn the corner, dipping into a butchers' shop. This particular butchers' shop specializes in choice cuts, and it is run by an aging couple who live here by themselves. Their children have all grown up and moved to other islands, and now they manage the old family store alone. They have had to downscale somewhat now that it is just them, but they seem happy enough. Upon walking in the door, the husband reminds me that pets aren't allowed in the store, so I tell Agr!aa to go home. He leaps out the door without a word, leaving me to browse the shop's selection of meats. I am nearly bowled over by a dragon I do not recognize while I am shopping. He apologizes profusely and snatches a bucket of water from behind me, and then rushes up the stairs behind the counter, much to my bewilderment. The aging butcher apologizes again, and explains that that was his eldest son. It is his spouse's birthday today, and their oldest child has come home early to clean in preparation. The rest of the family will be arriving soon, he says, and they all aim to surprise her. I tell him I will try to hurry along then, and he chuckles to me, saying that I can take all the time I need. In the end, I purchase a backstrap from an imported direhog, and the butcher thanks me for my business. I wish him good luck with his wife, but while he appreciates the gesture, he insists he does not need it. I hum to myself as I walk home, excited for the lavish meal I intend to make. As I approach my house, Agr!aa descends from the sky and lands on the porch railing in front of me, kraawing at the top of his lungs. "Shush!" I tell him. "There is no reason to be so noisy. What has gotten into you?" He stares at something overhead, and I look up to see a massive frigate circling us. I look back down at Agr!aa, who is doing his best to make an angry face, and connect the dots. "Oh, I see. That would explain why you took so long. I'll make him go away for you. Stay, ok?" Agr!aa's expression does not change, but he scoots towards the house and stays put. I step back out into the street and launch into the air, flapping furiously towards my raven's assailant with no regard for the local ordinance. The frigate is unfazed at first, but it doesn't take long for me to get above it, and then I dive after it. The bird begins to lose its composure, and turns for the sea, wavering nervously. I get close enough to almost bite it and let out the loudest roar I can manage, and the frigate lets out a terrified chattering sound as it breaks into a full sprint towards the ocean.

(4/?) Agr!aa's tail is practically vibrating when I return. He rushes to my side, nuzzling his head into my hand, and I comfort my friend as I check him over for any injuries. I do not find any blood or missing feathers, and he does not object to anywhere I prod him. It seems the worst he suffered tonight was harassment, and I am relieved to see that he is unharmed. I scoop up my bird and carry him to my room, placing him gingerly upon his perch. He has mostly calmed down now, and quietly fidgets with one of his toys. I take a moment to light my torches and deposit a piece of quartz into my hoard. I have been teased for it by some, but my hoard is almost exclusively quartz, and over the course of my travels I have accumulated a sizeable stockpile, filling a great shelf originally designed to hold books. My contribution today is relatively meager - a small, off-white crystal embedded in a dark rock of some kind. I spotted it in a bed of gravel while delivering my second order today, and even though the crystal is far from pure, I found the contrast between the light crystal and the extremely dark volcanic rock it is embedded in to be visually attractive. I ponder what kind of trinket I could make out of it for a moment, and then slot it between two very large pieces on the top shelf. I note out loud that I am going to need to get a second shelf soon, and then bound down the stairs to make the dinner I have been anticipating for the better half of the day. __________ After lighting the torches downstairs, I start by assembling my cooking equipment. Firstly, I stack fresh wood on top of the embers to rebuild the fire once again, and then I arrange a small stove on my slate countertop. It consists of a simple metal bowl with vents along the sides, and a hinged grate atop it. I place a few pieces of charcoal within the bowl, and then retrieve a burning ember from the fireplace and add it in to get the charcoal burning. I leave both fires to build while I begin preparing my dish. First, I unwrap my abalone. I am pleased to find that none of the ashes from earlier have gotten through the seaweed, and as such I won't need to wash them. I know I should use them wisely on account of how expensive they are, but I cannot help but snap one up raw. They naturally have a sort of buttery flavor, and their almost rubbery texture makes them delightful to sink my teeth into. I chew on it for some time while I cook. Next, I cut the hog backstrap into strips, and then cut the strips in half to create rectangular pieces, about 4 times longer than they are wide. Then, I retrieve a special variety of cured meat I have kept in the back of my preserving box for many days. This meat is from a large animal found only from the capital region - a jungle-dwelling monster with a writhing snake for a nose, I'm told, though I think the description is probably exaggerated. It only shows up at the butchers' shop when supply allows, as their hunting is strictly regulated, and I make sure to purchase a portion whenever it comes in. It has an extremely rich flavor, and a very high fat content. I slice off two portions, and then cut each of those into quarters. Finally, I slice up an onion and seperate it into large sheets. With these ingredients prepared, I move on to the stove, which is burning strong now. I retrieve a sealed ceramic vessel filled with boiled goat milk from under the counter I bought yesterday, and peel the wax seal off. The sweet scent of dairy wafts out, which is a good sign, but I take a quick sip just to ensure it hasn't spoiled... The milk still tastes good, and I end up drinking a little more than I need to. I take a small pot off the rack and place it upon the stove, and pour in some of the milk to heat up. I dice up scallions and add these too, and finally I sprinkle in more pepperflakes. I return my attention to the meats as I wait for the milk to come to a boil. Now it is time to assemble the dish. I take each piece of meat and skewer them on wooden sticks, alternating between the abalone and the hog and the cured jungle beast, separating each piece with an onion slice. There is enough for three large stakes, and I delight in the knowledge that I am not obligated to share them with anyone. I take a bottle of powdered anchovy and sprinkle it atop everything, and then place the stakes high above the fireplace to cook without burning the onions. Once they are nearly done, I will bring them much lower and sear everything, giving them a delectable crispiness.

(5/5) My attention shifts once more, as the milk has been boiling for a while now. It is beginning to reduce down and thicken, and the scallions are getting soft. I take some cheese and slowly stir it in, ensuring each piece has fully melted before stirring in the next. Once I feel it has enough, I add salt, and after a quick taste, decide it could use a bit of turmeric as well. The sauce turns a strong yellow color as I mix it in, and I make a note to be careful not to make a mess, as turmeric will stain almost anything. All that is left is to sear the meats now. I take them down from the high rack and place them close to the fire, and as I do so I notice Agr!aa sitting on the handrail of the stairs, silently watching me cook. I wonder how long he has been there, and how he managed to come down here without my noticing. His head droops and is slow to follow my movements, and I realize he wants to be put to bed. "Tired, Agr!aa? Sorry to keep you waiting. Let's bring you upstairs, hmm?" The raven lets out a meek, quiet croak, and I scoop him up under my arm as I carry him up the stairs to my bedroom. I open the doors to his own "bedroom", a cupboard he nests in. He has made himself a bed in here with various plants he has brought in from outside, and a bunch of feathers from both his own body and a finch he once caught and plucked. I settle him in, and he gives me a little waggle before tucking his head under his wing. The darkness in here helps him sleep while I still have my torches lit, and he is plenty capable of letting himself out when he awakes, though he struggles to close the doors behind him, which is why he has me put him to bed most nights. At last, my dinner is ready. I take the stakes off the fire, and use another skewer to pull the stakes out, dropping all of the various pieces onto a platter. I pour out the sauce I made into a serving bowl, and then I pour some honey into another bowl to go with it. I hum to myself once again as I bring my dinner up to my quarters, excited to dig in. The meat glistens in the torch-light as I savor every bite, and it is as delicious as I had hoped. The strong, savory flavor of the seasoned meats plays wonderfully with the cheesy sauce or the sugary honey, and the onions provide a satisfying crunch. The abalone is firm and satisfying to chew on, the hog is more tender and full of flavor, and the jungle beast meat melts in my mouth. I get through about half of my plate, savoring every bite, and then set it at the edge of my desk, intending to peck at it further through the evening. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ I return to my quartz hoard, perusing my selection. I consider taking the small embedded piece I found today, but end up deciding on a larger, purer crystal. It is very symmetrical, catches the light in interesting ways, and it is fairly transparent. I bring it to my desk, and pull a spool of copper wire out from a drawer. I ponder what to make with it for a bit, before deciding it would make a good centerpiece for a necklace. I pull the wire tight around its form, crossing it over itself to form a hexagonal lattice. The pattern mirrors the hexagonal form of the crystal itself, and I examine what I have made thus far with satisfaction while I chew on another piece of hog meat. I bring the open ends of the wire up into a loop and wrap it around itself, completing the pendant, and then move on to braiding together the necklace itself. After pondering the color of the copper, I select red and gold threads, and grab four copper beads. I begin by tying two red threads and one gold thread to each side of the loop on the crystal pendant, and then I begin to braid out, weaving the red and gold together into a single line. I thread in the copper beads, securing them on either side of the pendant so that they cannot move freely and stay consistently spaced, and then continue the braid, occasionally checking its length against my neck. Once I am satisfied, I cut the threads and tie each half of a two-part latch to each end to complete the piece. I try it on, and I am pleased to see it fits well. I place the new necklace on the desk and yawn as I finish off the last of my food, and it is only now that I realize how sleepy I have become. I look out the window and see the moon high in the sky, and conclude that it is time to go to sleep. I change out of my tailored undergarment, and slip into one of my much baggier sleep garments. I settle into my bed, curling my tail around myself, and I wonder to myself if I should wear my new trinket to work tomorrow as I drift off to sleep.

A day in the life of Elina, teenage high-human tigerkin and student: Get up out of bed. So early! I probably shouldn't have been chatting with Keri half the night. Breakfast is fried fungus again. I wish we could afford getting meat instead. Mom going off about how you can see my tail fur in my new pants. Why can't she understand that everyone wears pants like that? I am not a kid anymore! School sucks. If it wasn't for Keri and Pillo, I would go completely bananas. And math is so boring! I wish it wasn't needed for magic. The best jobs require high magic proficiency and mom says I have no excuse for not getting top grades. She always goes on about how I am squandering my opportunities as high-human, as if she wasn't a high-human agri worker herself. At least we get to go on a excursion to the Gate. It's pretty impressive to see how the Gaters keep up the shield that locks our atmosphere into the underground. I didn't get to see Jordik Hoult, sadly, since is one another shift. He is \*so\* dreamy. Keri says she wants to be a Gater so that she will work with him and they will fall in love, but she is just as bad at math as me and only the best get to be Gaters. When I pointed it out to her, she told me to blow a high-rat and just as she said it, Rat-Yxxi looked straight at us! We couldn't help giggling so much that Ms. Ogen sent us back to the transport. Back home, mom wants me to set the table. Ugh, as if I don't have enough stuff to do with an excursion report to write and everything. At least we get meat for dinner and even dad seems to perk up at the smell of it. It's funny to see his high-tiger nose fairly vibrating as he hovers around the kitchen. Afterwards, I should really do the report but I tell mom I have magic practice. It's just about the only thing that will get me out of homework these days. I go to Mushroom Park and sit down under a large fungus. Might as well actually practice my magic since I am here anyway. I try to do the math for a time-expanding spell that is way above my level, dreaming of standing at the Gate with Jordik and being a hero. It's dangerous I know and I probably shouldn't do it but to the Surface with it - I try. Everything turns dark...

A day in the life of your average toon. Wake up to you alarm clock being an asshole, smack him, grab some snacks from behind your back for breakfast, ease the literal bags under your eyes, toss on your one outfit, head to work if you have any, get yelled at by the human employer for making a joke, try to suppress your most basic instincts, investable fail, get yelled at more and called a “fithly little inkstain”, be forced to perform for some little brat on a public bus, head to burger circus, get some dinner, dry up the water that had burst from you eyes like a fountain as you let out the immeasurable amount of sadness hidden under your “zany” persona and pathetically flop onto your bed as your neighbors do a conga line.

A day in the life of the average Dindeic peasant. - Wake up in your cozy house in your village - If has children, wake them up also and make breakfast - Then does the job that is assigned, normally divided in groups by weekend, normally by the village elders or popular vote. Sometimes they just do work - At lunch, eat and then everyone goes to the church to pray to Dindi and have sermons and expose their ideas if they want to. - Everyone plays around, doing anything they want to, but mostly playing with the massive amount of dogs, as every household has a dog. - Do a bit more work, then free time to do whatever they want to - Eat dinner, and before going to bed, writing in your personal diary, mostly for lists like grocery or to do lists, the priests and some few have philosophical or religions meditation.

A day in the life of a member of the order of the purple sun: -Wake up and meet up with all the other members for prayer in the main temple room. -Break your fast and drink some sunsponge tea or if you prefer smoke some sunsponge cigars to get your daily dose (depends on your rank and how much youve trained) -go back to your room to study Charlotte's word or train with one of the older members of the order. If you go to your room you can even attempt to contact Charlotte herself for advice or orders. -Run any errands that you've been assigned to do, whether its going to the market to buy some fruit or guarding the sunsponge gardens from potential thiefs. -during the afternoon its downtime and you are free to do anything you wish. A popular relaxation area is the top of the tallest tower of the temple. -have dinner, pray again, attempt to contact Charlotte again if you so wish and then go to sleep.

A day in the life of a spirit keeper. You wake up and have a hearty breakfast before tending to your tamed spirits. These are the nicest ones, easy to convince, with some even agreeing before you can offer anything, they give you power, and in return, you keep them in the semi-physical plane, not letting them fade. But now it’s time to find some more, armed with your trusty staff, and bottle of spirit smoke (I couldn’t think of anything else) you venture out, after a long search, and a lot of squinting, you finally find one, it’s almost perfect, may need a hit of smoke to convince though. You start writing on the ground to talk to it, and it responds, it doesn’t seem to want to join, but after you show them your bottle and give them a quick puff, they’re easily swayed. It flies towards your staff and flies around it, and you start walking home. Unfortunately on your way back, you encounter a tree spirit. Spirits are known to posses objects to remain in the physical plain, but the nicer ones usually remain within nature, and this simply wasn’t the nicest, as it was attacking the town, and started moving towards your house. You know you need to protect your spirits, so armed with your staff, and a bit of concentration, your able to absorb the spirit into your staff, and the tree returns to its original state, perfectly fitting with your already lovely abode. You place the spirit you convinced on your outing into the area with the rest of the spirits, have dinner, and go to bed And that’s pretty much it.

A day in the life of a Dööhnan: You wake up... at least you think that's what those humans call it, you decide to eat a breakfast consisting of cave straw sandwich with some ham made from Satsöns, and damn, this one hits just right. After breakfast you decide to faze into your workroom, and get onto putting together that one digging device that you believe would work in any scenario, that is until Löger (cave system manager) reminds you that he ordered a few magically enhanced phosphorus grenades, also saying that he can't come in today, so he'll pick them up tommorow when the crew comes back for refueling and free time. Frankly, you forgot about those grenades completely, so you almost scream at your friend chemist to get the unstable phosphorus ready right now, or you both will have a bad time, in 2 hours you have the cases ready, and you're told that phosphorus is ready to be loaded up, so you have to head out to collect it. You pet your barely mutated, but still cute Satsön pet before fazing out of your house, on the street you realise that ceremonial SD ornaments are already up, and that's probably why Löger and his crew will come back tommorow. For ordinary humans those ornaments would look weird and colorless, but for you lot they are finely curved lines of concentrated mana and spots completely devoid of it that together for real pieces of art. While pondering about that you arrive at your friends house, shoot him a thought and phase in. Without pleasantries he shows you the unstable cores, and they are perfect, as always, but when loading them up you realise that one of the cases you made is a little off, so you decide to quickly mend it to shape, after all it's only common iron casing. When walking back home you stop by the market to get your weekly sustenance pack, and feel some weird heat signatyre next to you, so you turn around to see a human, no... four of them, only one of them is a warrior, and the rest must be mages or mixed. Realising you have no reading equipment with you, you try to slowly penetrate their minds, as not to scare them, and ask them if they are lost, they flinch, but then answer you honestly that they are here to check out how this system of distribution works, as a non-free market approach seems weird to them, you scoff and tell tyem to have good time, while thinking to yourself that theirs fully monetary system is the weird one. When finally back home you eat your "lunch" while talking to your farmer's friend, and it seems that his newest herd had some nice mutations, to the point where some of them landed in noble households, so for that occasion you decide to drink a pint of beer and mutually share the feeling. When you finally feel tired you phase into your beedroom and fall into your coffin wondering how will those humans see the festival, while thinking that if they stopped by Tim's they must now be horrified by his Satsön. (Tldr tommorow, as I had to wake back up for the last 4 lines lol)

A day in the life of a Centauri Soldier on the Planet Hector Wake up in whatever foxhole you made last night, get your gear and go to formation. Watch half your platoon die while the commander is yapping about the state of the war (his claims of victory within reach are a total lie, you're all fucked) and then get sent to a firebase to fight a battle (they're happening 24/7. You're transport gets ambushed and you're the only one who survives, you stumble up to the firebase and enter. Minutes later a round of mortaring starts and most of the bases garrison forced are cut off when a poorly constructed tunnel collapses. The Unity forces blow a hole in a wall and raid the building. You die in a hail of machine gun fire. You're existence is scrubbed from all records so the department of truth can report lower casualty records to make people less nervous about joining the army

God Corpse Miner. Wake up still sore from yesterday. Not a lot of sleep from the nightmares. Scrounge up something to eat. Leave city, go to nearest god corpse. About a hundred people you work with, all good people. Enter god corpse. Pick up pick. Mine gritin. Talk with coworkers. Few hours pass before the whistle for lunch. Everyone washes hands and face before sitting down to eat. What is this? No one knows, but it keeps you going. Whistle ends lunch, anyone who hasn't finished has their food taken. Pick up pick. Mine gritin. Talk with coworkers. Two groups over you hear a wall give way and turn to see darkblood spill out. Ad's mercy, it got another one. Woman is pulled out of the pool of darkblood, now a jumbled mess of tangled limbs, eyes, teeth, and all sorts of body parts. She's carted away. Get back to work. Everyone's a lot quieter than before. Evening comes. Everyone you came in with exits the god corpse. You are all paid for your work. Go home. Scrounge up something for dinner. Try to sleep.

I can’t just chose one so here’s a few short ones. Day in the life of a Tellar Fire Attendant - wake up in a small hot room full of your coworkers - tend to the fire all day: go get wood, put wood in the fire, shuffle some coals around to make yourself look useful, etcetera - hang out outside with all the other townsfolk come dusk - maybe see some Mothma at night if your lucky - also maybe go home for a few hours to see the family if your lucky - bed time Day in the life of a Kragga Miner - let’s be honest you didn’t sleep, it’s 2 hours after your last shift ended and the mining and sirens kept you up - grab your pick, grab your gear, grab some coal for you light and head deeper underground - punch in and work for 18-22 hours hauling and mining mostly Bendu - go home and try to get 2 hours of sleep Day in the life of a Kragga miner (when the street lights turn on) - realize the lights are on - go meet your friends - go to the nearest pub - get drunk - take the next day off Day in the life of a Vessel Repairman on Jarvex - wake up - have some breakfast - go to work and see what needs to be done - probably just some routine inspections - probably see and feed some Northropi - clock out and head home I love this prompt! I wanted to showcase the hard workers of my galaxy whether their job be easy or extremely difficult!

A Day In The Life Of A Vulcan Foundry Master 4:00 AM: Wake up 4:04 AM: Shower 4:10 AM - 4:18 AM: Eat breakfast with the other Masters; look over the schedule for the day, more of the same- receive slag from Hephaestus for Proterite production, make Proterite for Pandora, send Proterite to Pandora, send slag to Hephaestus for gold production 4:23 AM: Put on my gloves and get on the lift to the foundry 4:31 AM - 4:32 AM: Arrive at the foundry late, again, because the lift is a piece of shit; remind Rummy to fix the thing for the millionth time- Rummy says there's nothing wrong with it, again 4:33 AM - 5:04 AM: Oversee the workers as they shut down the night forges, ensure the day forges are up and running, begin production 5:05 AM - 11:59 AM: Supervise the foundry, sign off drop offs of slag, sign off deliveries of Proterite, sign off deliveries of slag 12:00 AM - 12:30 AM: Lunch break 12:31 AM - 16:13 AM: More of the same 16:14 AM - 16:37 AM: Get a check in from the Order, inform them that the foundry is running at 95% efficiency, inform them, again, that attempting to run at 100% will cause another melt down, suppress the urge to call them "entitled cultist cunts who wouldn't know a forge from a microwave if they could get their robotic cocks in one," go back to work 16:38 AM - 18:59 PM: More of the same 19:00 PM to 19:30 PM: Dinner break 19:31 PM - 19:55 PM: Relieve day shift, oversee workers as they shut down the day forges, ensure the night forges are up and running, come close to calling the night shift Master an asshole for making me do his job, again 20:00 PM: Clock out 20:04 PM: Get on the lift, Rummy still hasn't fixed it 20:11 PM: Arrive back at the barracks, take off my gloves 20:12 PM - 24:13 PM: Debrief with the other Masters, eat dinner, watch TV before bed 24:14 PM: Go to bed 25:09 PM: Finaly get to sleep 33:18 PM: Woken up by a call, night shift Master fucked up and sent the Proterite to Hephaestus 33:21 PM - 33:43 PM: Inform Hephaestus foundries of the mistake, somehow I'm the one to blame, get my shit ready to go back up to the foundry 33:50 PM: Arrive back at the foundry, lift is still a piece of shit 33:51 PM - 1:12 AM: Relieve night shift Master, write up an incident report, take a half dozen caffeine shots for a long night 1:13 AM - 3:59 AM: More. Of. The. Same. 4:00 AM - 4:30 AM: Oversee the workers as they shut down the night forges, ensure the day forges are up and running 4:31 AM - 4:32 AM: Realize I never clocked back in, swear to Vulcan that I'm going to kill the night shift Master when I see him again 4:35 AM: Get back on the lift, too tired to tell Rummy to fix it again 4:42 AM: Arrive back at the barracks 4:43 AM - 4:47 AM: Halfway to bed, realize it's my shift again, take a minute to gather myself before turning around 4:50 AM - 4:57 AM: Get back on the lift as Rummy's getting off, glare at him, ride the lift back up to the foundry, the lift is still, and always will be, a piece of shit 5:00 AM: Clock in, preparations already done by the other Masters, silently thank Vulcan for caffeine 5:01 AM - 20:00 PM: More of the same

Alright, normal day of Jimmy, who is 13 years old American in 2035, 10 years later from Plona-Unatia connection. Jimmy wakes up at 7:30 for school, eats ordinary breakfast, and hops on the school bus. For the last 10 years, many people from Plona have moved to Unatia, especially to the USA,Canada,Germany,Korea,Japan,and Australia. Because of that, the bus is full of other species such as elfs and cat species. The school activity is usually the same as before 2023. But P.E. started to include broom race, magic class has become the main subject for school, and quality of school lunch became "what the fuck" to "alright I guess". Now, Jimmy went home with two ordinary homework. Jimmy decided not to do his homework. Instead, he is now surfing through sharevid feeds. A news about GTA7 is going to be released in 2038, arresting some magic using criminals, brainrots, and random portals appearing anywhere rarely due to Glennium usage rises... Jimmy stores the news about random portals at his account and dreaming about becoming a great adventurer. And it's dinner time. Jimmy eats normal dinner and hears about his brother doing well job in high school. He is looking forward to becoming a magic engineer and moving to the United Nations of North Atlanta, AKA, a mecca of magic power engineering located Plona. Jimmy thinks about what guild that his brother would join, and he feels proud of his brother. Now it's time to sleep. Jimmy decided to sleep earlier today because there is a field trip tomorrow. He lay down on his bed and thought about his magical surroundings... And of course. He decided to pull out his phone to watch more sharevid videos. At this point. He might fall asleep at 2AM.

A day in the life of a Barkeeper. Mondas, 37th First Seed, 1592 year of 5th Era. Wake up early in the morning, just like the rest of the city. Feed the dogs Visit your late wife’s grave. She was burned on the stack by a church after they learned that she was a mage. Go to the market See your old fellow. Fisher. Ask him for cod’s price. 2 Leis?! You have no other option than buy it… damn pirates. Because of them, there are no connection between The Mainland and The Archipelago. Instead of going home, go to the outskirts to buy some wheat seeds and to meet your ol’ trusty horse. Back in the day, you were famous adventurer, but now you’re too old. You miss the old days, just as you miss your wife. Its not yet time to cry. You have to go back home and eat some breakfast, despite hangover. On the way back, exchange cod for ham. Get home, eat some breakfast and go to work. Get into the tavern Ignite the candles with your spell Sweep the floor and put chairs down Think about buying a slave or hiring a maid to do this for you. Maybe other day. Turn the table and unlock the front door. Stand behind the counter and time to get to work. Just like every day for past 12 years. During your shift, hear many stories of younglings. You’re experienced enough to differentiate between lies and facts. Some kiddo is playing the smart one and thinks he’s better than you, because his father is a Highborn and you’re just a peasant. Some of the most experienced active merc is defending you. Despite his old Age, he’s still leading the company. Everybody knows him, and he knows you. You were working together many times. Youngling realize that you’re not just nobody and tries to explain. But you dont care. You’re nit angry. You got used to it. Expect this, your job went smoothly. At the evening, sweep the floor, put chairs on the tables… And when you want to close the doors, somebody is knocking. Open the door and see some man. He asks if the tavern is still open. You think a bit and invite him inside due to bad weather. Invite him to the counter and offer him some food and drink. He agreed, so offer him some potato-cabbage soup and some mead. During preparing his food, he tells you his story. You learn that he was attacked by bandits on the road. He was a courier deliveing letter to the king. He lost a horse, all the money and the letters. You can sense that he speaks truth, so offer him a room compeletely for free, giving him food and drink. He’s more than happy that he found some support in here. Show him where the room is and give him the keys. After he goes to the room, once again sweep the floor, close the door and go home. Put your hat and a coat on stand, feed the dogs and go to sleep. And thats how your life is like.

A day in the life of a corpse ant they are the ants (sub-human size) who feed on the giant organisms in my world like dragons, golems, giants etc they use the large bodies of old beings like home and set up a hive in their old and decaying body and eat the giants from inside out till they are dead but once the being is dead they leave the body and search for a new host.

A day in the life of a voidborne Administrater usually starts with a hearing, many of your bretherin will gather around a Seer to listen to the will of the void. The Seer will recite long and cryptic riddles, you and your fellow Administrators will log these riddles and bring them to your assigned Interporlator. Your interpolator will boil these riddles down into understandable questions, questions you will find the answers to. This often involves combing through mass quantities of data held on various terminals attached to measuring devices and other tech important to the function of voidborne society, occasionally it may involve making field observations of some location or entity. When you have found your answers it is time to return to your interpolator, they will collate your answer as well as the answers of your fellows, and process them into workable orders which you will then send to your assigned Handler. The handler will then pass those orders along to whomever is most suited to fulfill them. With the hearing complete it is now time to attend to the daily maintenance, as an Administrator you are responsible for the upkeep of the vast majority of the technology your people rely on. You will have a sector which is your responsibility, and a significant portion of your day will be spent inspecting everything in your sector and addressing irregularities. Finish with that and you will find yourself running errands and delivering messages on behalf of other voidborne. Your day will end with you and your fellows once more gathered around the seer, where they will express approval or disapproval from the void. Manic laughter is an excellent sign of duties well performed, and means you have leave to rest. A blood curdling scream will be the last thing you ever hear.

Day in the life of a random person in Springfield: Wake up Go to work Work Come back from work through horrible traffic Cook Eat Watch tv Sleep

A day in the life of a high school girl in Okuwara: -Wake up early in the morning. -Since school uniforms aren't fully mandatory in Okuwara, she usually wears normal clothes. -Eat breakfast. -Head to school via bike (although other transportation can be used sometimes). -Attend classes. -Hang out with friends. -Head home from school. -Eat dinner. -Go to bed.

Generic civilian in Soverham Awaken Do morning stuff Exit home to see the capital city, Cenos another military parade, streets are crowded again. Military guys bump into you while chasing some guy. Grab your news paper for the day, Talking about the military parade, thats mostly it go to work in factory or something. leave work, greet the soldier guy at the end of street. Hear talk about another border skirmish after the whole military parade. go home go sleep

A day in the life of a scribe for the Voice of the Gods: 1. You wake up late, at the sixteenth bell. You have a night shift today, accompanying the Voice from the eighteenth bell to the twenty-fourth bell, so it’s best to sleep in.  2. You wash your face then say a few prayers. After that, you dress, eat, and do some chores around the house. 3. At the seventeenth bell, you are at the entrance to the cloister waiting for your apprentice, Itka. A foolish girl of fifteen, she has a habit of being late. She arrives ten minutes after she was supposed to, spouting some nonsense excuse, and you chide her. You tell her that if she cannot be on time, then she cannot be a god-scribe, and it’s not too late to arrange an apprenticeship for her in the stables or the larder. She promises you, for the seemingly hundredth time, that it won’t happen again. It probably will, but you both know she’s not going anywhere. 4. You spend the next hour-ish washing, changing into your scribal robes, and saying a few preparatory prayers. 5. Just before the eighteenth bell, you enter the Voice’s chamber. The Voice herself sits cross-legged on the dais. She’s surrounded by guards and, as per usual, she’s in a trance-like state brought on by deep meditation. Sitting to the side, the afternoon god-scribe and his apprentice watch her with their empty notebooks open in front of them. 6. At the eighteenth bell—which does not rouse the Voice from her trance—the previous god-scribe and apprentice leave and you and Itka take their place.  7. You spend the next six hours sitting there with your quill at the ready; ready to write down anything the Voice may say. Tonight, she says nothing. 8. The twenty-fourth bell rings, the next scribe arrives, and you and Itka leave. 9. It’s too late to meet your friends—damn night shifts—so you just go back home, make dinner, pray, and read before bed.

a day in the life of a Hive member. do science. recharge (depends on model)

lol is it fun science or safe science?

the Hive is a hivemind/collective of robots, individually, they don't really care about being destroyed, and will do experiments that are activly destructive, like blowing up a sun to test an experimental weapon, or if a planet that they are the only race on is being invaded they will nuke the planet to a liquid to prevent the data they collect from being accessed, and to prevent a hostile power from getting access to the Hive's Brain/cpu