Recent comments in /f/WritingPrompts

armageddon_20xx t1_jeh5f5r wrote

"Choose!' the voice of Satan boomed.

Flames licked the ceiling in forks around seven gates, the light revealing tunnels beyond to places I couldn't guess. Above each in crimson lettering was a title: pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony, and sloth. The display was so impressive I might have been drawn in by it, if not for my knack for detail. I noticed that tucked away between two of the gates was a small door, much like a door you'd find in a corporate office. On the front, written in a small font was the word "PRIDE."

Never the one to take the beaten path, I headed straight for that door and didn't look back. It didn't bother me that I barely fit through the frame, or that Satan had just offered me an eternal pleasure of my choice. No, I had to take that door because I had to be a rebel. A hipster. Different.

I landed in a cubicle farm. There was nothing at all special about it - rows of cubes with those fake cardboard separators between them. When I looked around, I saw no one, which was strange given that I heard people furiously typing. I could only imagine the reports being generated. There was also the faint smell of coffee, I couldn't have been alone.

I started walking, staring into each cube to find it empty. When I came to the end of the row I saw a stack of papers on the desk. I grabbed one.

"PRIDE" - People Rejecting Imminent Demonic Embrace

You're here because sin isn't for you. You wanted a better option for your eternal fate. Here at PRIDE, we're constantly fighting back against Satan and his evil schemes. We're small and dedicated, and together we can shut down the gates forever. It all begins with...


Satan's gates are successful because people actually believe that their lives inside will be an endless pleasure. The reality is it's 1% pleasure and 99% hell. In the greed gate, the recipient has endless wealth - for five minutes of an 80-year lifespan. They get to buy whatever they want, then they spend 80 years wishing they could buy anything at all. As you can guess, nobody chooses to buy food and spends 80 years hungry.

Your goal in PRIDE is to get the word out about Satan and his gates. You'll be sending emails, text messages, cold calls, and other media to get people to believe you six days a week. On the seventh day, you'll rest and enjoy life poolside here at the PRIDE complex. Sounds pretty good, right?

I put the paper down, my head full of thoughts. The moment I started to walk away Satan's voice boomed from above.

"Don't believe that trash. The door is called PRIDE because it's pride. You just believe you can beat me instead of other people, and in truth, you probably believe you can beat other people too. So turn around, look for the red Exit sign, and come back. I'll take you through the real pride gate."

I considered what Satan said. He was right - I did believe I could beat other people. Maybe, deep down I believed I could beat Satan too.

"I need time to think," I said aloud.

"Don't. believe. the. lies." Satan said. "Life beyond the pride gate is wondrous to behold. You will be the best at everything and better than everyone. Nobody shall question you. Consider that versus a boring life in that office that produces nothing but lies and drivel. The pool party is lame too, there isn't even alcohol. You'll be enjoying watered-down lemonade and airplane-quality pretzels."

That sounded dreadful. I wondered if I could just try the other gate, see what was beyond it, then come back to this one. I didn't trust Satan to answer me honestly. If only I could find another soul in here, the person behind the typing, someone real to talk to. Why was Satan the only one speaking to me?

That's when I figured out it had to be a test of some kind. There could only be a few legitimate reasons why I couldn't see anyone and Satan could still talk to me, and one of those is that I hadn't quite made it to PRIDE yet.

I plunged forward. "No, Satan. I choose PRIDE."

"But, really, you should reconsider. Look how very lonely it is there."

"I don't believe it! Away with you!"

That's when Satan faded away and the angels appeared. One of them came up to greet me.

"Welcome. Few find us, and fewer pass the test. We're off the beaten path because what's right isn't usually popular, and only those who can see beyond the shimmer of how things appear can truly know us."

"Welcome to heaven," he extended his hand.



EliseuPT t1_jeh56zl wrote

I think I remember the prompt you are talking about. I'm pretty sure I read some story about a guy that picked pride and it was the only one no one else picked and then he finds out the only other "person" there is God. I really like that one, it'd be great to find it again


TheFinalDawnYT t1_jeh4p0h wrote

[poking a dead body] i fix

[poking a dead body] i fix

[poking a dead body] i fix

[poking a dead body] i fix

[poking a dead body] i fix

[497 lines truncated]


AutoModerator t1_jeh48p4 wrote

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.


>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.


OggyBoggy t1_jeh3sjk wrote

I find it weird that most people dont like or flat out hate when it rains. I know it can be uncomfortable if you get too wet but you will eventually find yourself under cover and be drying rapidly from body heat. I for one love the rain, feeling the tiny drops on my face as i walk home is a small blessing through a tough day


Voyage_of_Roadkill t1_jeh1x4a wrote

A vessel from Earth drops out of sub-light speed, a million miles away from an ongoing battle. The vessel, a thin white tube of aerogels and graphene wrapped in ceramics, looks delicate, but that is to put it lightly. It comes to a stop and bobs dangerously inside a gravitational anomaly.

"Fuckers are using gravitational weapons on each other. Need to find a safe eddy to set up operations," says the ensign on control, a brash fellow freshly graduated from the academy.

"Engage." the man sitting in the captain's chair intones as if bored.

The navigator finds an eddy and plots a course. And the control works his magic. In route the science officer chimes in, "Captain, getting a system read out now, 500 vessels engaged. Detecting north of 500,000 inert bios. Gravitational weapons, subatomic explosions, and plasma sparks are taking out as many friendlies as they are enemies."

"They must really hate each other. Which war is this again?" the captain sits with his chin in left-hand, elbow on its armrest. He scowls as his question goes unanswered. Humanity numbers wars and this one was categorized with a barcode. The slang term for any war is a thrift shop but no one volunteers that information or bothered to memorize the twelve-digit code associated with the here and why of the death on the bridge-viewer. This thrift shop is bits of color and the occasional quantum explosion. It is not a coincidence they are here to witness this, for this is humanity's bread and butter. Most of human space-faring existence has been spent sniffing around graveyards like this one. Vast regions of space in which the fall out of interspecies warfare exists well beyond peace, or annihilation, and will likely until the heat death of the Universe and then maybe even beyond that.

"Any change? Have they seen us?"

"I don't know captain. This is a bad one. They might be too distracted. But I can't tell."

"Captain to dramatics."

"Dramatics here." The face of the director appears on the bridge-viewer. He is a frail man with many health problems. Yellow skin, black bags fully encircling his beady blue eyes. He is certainly not fit for space service, under any other circumstances, save for being the Terran solar system's imminent combat materialist.

"Mister Director, how close are we to getting started?"

The director turns a critical eye over a data pad, then a finger down the information there, and reports, "Aye, captain, putting the finishing touches on today's theatrics now. Can probably raise curtain whenever you want to call action."

The Captain nods, "Action, Mister Director, and give them hell."

The director smiles a crooked yellow tooth smile and the viewer goes back to the battle. Immediately there is a huge explosion, right in the middle of all the action. The flash is accompanied by a gamma particle wave. It's an illusion like being in a wave pool back on Earth. The gamma wave can only nudge, but when the director lets loose five more explosions of light and gamma waves, one right after the other, he gets every single living thing's attention.

Communication confirms, "we got them now sir."

"Good. Mister Director, when you are ready for the second act, on your mark."

There is no reply only the sudden appearance of a planet-sized being sparkling with green lightning. The gamma wave roll of the illusion rocks both sides of the conflict. One of the reported effects is massive amounts of motion sickness. Like shaking a soda bottle, a few ships pop in huge explosions. A few others shut down, with all electronics and non-life systems fried. The Gamma waves of the massive illusion can isolate a target over and over but what it looks like to those observing is that the ship exploding has been eaten.

The chaos, the theatrics cause, is immediate. Some of the warring vessels turn and run leaving a few behind to fire on the monster before them, but being a thing of light the weapon-fodder sails right through. This is actually the dangerous part for the humans. Where at any time a fear-induced accident can occur.

But nothing going, the execution of the production, this time is flawless.

"Excellent work Mister Director. Conduct act three and begin the clean up."

The captain acts stoic but inside he is smug. It is all too easy, this deception. Like no other species knows how to detect a performance so for that silly reason alone this keeps working. Some of the slaves have suggested the ability to lie is unique only to humans, that, everywhere else, honesty is considered the gold standard for a species' survival.

An alarm sounds announcing the beginning of act three. This was everyone's favorite part. All hands type action. The illusion extends to a fleet of salvage vessels that fly into the graveyard and begin chopping up the alien tech. The human vessels look like moon-sized versions of the planet-sized monster that curls into a ball and begins snoring green gamma lightening as its children eat what's left. But in reality, survivors are enslaved and auctions are set up with allies across the galaxy for the interesting bits. And most importantly those that escape take with them a fear that they don't fully understand, a fear for a new Apex predator, most call The Ship Devourers from Terra Prime.


Nomyad777 t1_jeh11vm wrote

"You humans sure have a strange sense of humor. Sure, your planet totally has huge bodies of water that cover most of the surface. As if something so scarce would just be found falling from the sky. I guess when we reach your home world tomorrow you can show us all these fantasies in person!" One of the first exchange students in the first wave of cultural exchanges said.

I laughed. "We're exiting FTL in a couple minutes, you'll see it then."

There was a pop as the ship broke enough laws of physics for inertia to momentarily stop applying, then the blast shutters on the observation deck raised.

Below was Earth, blue and green with touches of white where mountains pierced the clouds. I watched the mouths of the aliens fall open as North America came into view, with what looked like a Category 3 hurricane over the Atlantic Ocean.

"So... much... water... How did your planet have so much?" One asked.

I smiled, thinking of all of my memories playing in lakes and oceans, riding boats and looking at the rain. "Gravity exoskeletons, people; we're going to dock to the Space Elevator shortly. Then, you'll see."


AutoModerator t1_jeh07il wrote

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.


>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.


lpnf t1_jegzhwc wrote

Part 2.2! It ended up being a little long.

The ship skirted around the edge of the falls, keeping a healthy distance from the water. Nearer the top, there wouldn’t have been room to fly around behind the curtain of water, but this far down the water was nearly a quarter mile from the cliffs. There was some ambient mist, just as Baroul had said, but Gallin could still see the city right as soon as they got a viewing angle on it.

A dozen huge, flat terraces were cut into the edge of the world, one above the other, like handholds for a giant. Two of them, the sixth and seventh, were densely packed with rough stone buildings, but the rest seemed to be used for farming. There was wheat, fruits, and some crops Gallin did not recognize, although none of the fields looked particularly lush. He saw a few figures walking across the fields, and more milling about in the village terraces. In the center of each terrace, he saw a small entrance that seemed to lead deeper into the earth, except for the sixth and seventh, which each had a huge cave cut back into the earth. The highest terrace held huge sheets of canvas, glistening with condensation, and metal pipes led down to the lower levels. Galling supposed that this was safer than going out to the waterfall with a bucket, but it seemed unfortunate that such lengths were necessary with so much water so near.

Rickety wooden scaffolding provided access between some of the terraces, but there didn’t seem to be enough for all of them. Perhaps the caves led to stairs within the earth, or perhaps you couldn’t get around unless Baroul was willing to bring you somewhere on the barge.

“Here we are,” said Baroul. “The Free City, safe from prying eyes above. Self-sufficient! See those crops growing?” Baroul seemed energized by the sight; his more measured demeanor during the right evaporated before his excitement. “Yes, I do. They seem a little sickly.”

“Well, the light isn’t great under the falls like this. It’s perfectly edible.” “Edible. My favorite sort of food,” said Gallin, glumly. While it was remarkable that this city existed at all, it didn’t look like his sort of place. It was damp, dark, and probably filled with people who never had quite enough to eat. “We’re really going to live down here?” “Of course!” said Baroul. “You can stay as long as you like.” The prince seemed more aware of Gallin’s displeasure with his new fate. “Of course, we may not spend too much time here, considering.”

“Considering what?” asked Gallin.

“Considering that you’re going to restore me to the throne, of course,” the prince replied. “I’ll generously commute your sentence, and you can return to your old life.”

The little twinge of hope ached, particular since the prince’s plan seemed ludicrously far-fetched. “I don’t think there are enough people here to help with that, your majesty,” said Gallin.

“Oh, I know that. But there are people who will help. Your old friends up top –“

“- who know I’ve been exiled,” interjected Gallin.

“- and, of course, my new friends from the other side of the world. You can meet them once we land. I think you’ll all get along.”

As they began the final descent towards a rickety wooden dock on the sixth terrace, Gallin weighed a lifetime living in these damp stone houses against the likelihood of being executed on the surface after the prince’s plan failed.

“Sure,” he said. “Let’s meet them.”


hivemind_disruptor t1_jegzh80 wrote

"That was... controversial" said the melodic voice further apart.

The demon looked back and smiled softly. "I figured He'd send someone."

"Didn't think one of the Rebels would show up to do my job." said angel, revealing themself.

"I guess I miss the good old days. I was wondering if I could do it using the tools from my new line of work." shurged the demon.

"Oh they seem to work just fine" said the angel sarcastically. "Now why did you really do that? I thought you guys loved to poke holes in rich folk like that."

"Oh we do. But I think our little friend has something to accomplish before we welcome him into our warm little hearth. Maybe shake things up, start a movement, you know. Become a leader. He is a Duke after all." With that, the demon winked and smiled mischievously before disappearing in a cloud of sulphur.


lpnf t1_jegz8v4 wrote

Part 2!

Gallin sat quietly in the back of Baroul’s floating barge. Baroul and the supposed ‘prince’ were carefully managing their descent, turning dials and reading gauges, engaging in brief but spirited discussions over the proper speed of descent, and generally being too busy to talk with their stupefied passenger. Gallin could still learn a lot just by observation, of course.

The main thing to look at was the rim of the word, which filled his entire field of view to the right of the barge. It was covered in a sort of rocky crust, with harsh outcroppings like a young mountain range. Gallin supposed that if the edge was simply exposed dirt the whole world would have crumbed ages ago. At first, nearer the top, the rocks had been weathered, and some even had moss or other plants growing on them, but they had bene descending for two hours or so and the face was harsher. Gallin had indulged in some fanciful daydreams about mysterious creatures that could live on the face, perhaps hardy goats or lizards, but there did not appear to be any. Even the vegetation had petered out only a half-hour into their journey. As they descended, they had distanced themselves from the face – Baroul mentioned that rocks sometimes fell from higher up, which Gallin wished he hadn’t been told until they arrived safely at this secret city – and the mist that swirled in the depths was beginning to rise around them. Gallin didn’t really need to know any more about the cliffs, anyway – he wasn’t a prospector. Gallin dealt with people.

The two men up front seemed to know each other well and were working in harmony. Baroul seemed to acknowledge the ‘royal’ status of the other, but only a little. They behaved more as comrades than as master and subject. Baroul’s behavior in general was surprising. Gallin had known him in the city, but hadn’t had much use for him. Baroul had struck Gallin as an expensive plaything of the king, since his inventions were interesting but rarely useful, and he had the air of a mad alchemist out of a story. Voting for his exile had been an easy choice, frankly – Baroul had no allies, no power base, and no defenders once the king tired of him. Gallin had extracted a few concessions in exchange for his vote but hadn’t seen the need to push too hard; it was like banishing a specialized jester. Now, he seemed focused, and he had apparently built the floating ship that was the only thing keeping Gallin out of an infinite void. Supposedly he had a whole city hidden under the great falls. Not a single mad laugh had passed his lips and he didn’t even exhibit his usual fidgety shifting. Gallin had to wonder if the Baroul he had known in the capital was simply an act. A fine one, if it was – Gallin’s job was to notice such things, and he was good at it. Usually.

The other man was another matter. He did resemble the prince that had stabbed him in the back, but not so closely that they could have been swapped for each other without notice. Presumably, the prince that Gallin knew had always been the one from the ‘other side’. He knew that it was custom for princes of the royal house to live most of their early lives apart from the reigning king, but it seemed implausible that some swap had happened without anyone noticing, even so. Gallin was prepared to believe that the prince had been some sort of sinister plotter, since he was such an asshole, but it the whole story didn’t seem plausible. Of course, this was not the time to start raising complaints. He didn’t want Baroul’s sudden compassion to abruptly run out and to find himself flung over the rails.

Baroul then came towards the aft of the ship, leaving the new prince to manage the controls of the vessel.

“We’ve about three more hours to go until we have descended to the level of the city. For now, you should rest. I want to begin our work as soon as we get there. There’s some food in the crates near the back, and some posts you should secure yourself to as you sleep. Make sure you’re ready for our arrival. I’ll wake you before we enter the falls; it can be dangerous.” Baroul then returned to the helm without waiting to see if Gallin would follow his suggestions, and without giving Gallin a chance to respond. It wasn’t really a problem – the forced journey through the desert up top had left him tired and hungry. He opened the crate, which held some dingy-looking bread and pale mushrooms. The strange food made Gallin realize that he would never return to his old, comfortable life in the capital. He wondered if the waterfall people ate like this all the time. Now, he supposed, he would too. Usually, Gallin only indulged in great shows of emotion to manipulate others’ responses to him, but the vision of his old life crumbling away to be replaced with an uncertain situation living under a waterfall brought out a genuine tear. He had readying himself to die for the entire journey from the capital, but he had not prepared himself to live. He forced down some food, secured himself to the damn post, and fell into a troubled sleep.

Baroul awoke him just as he said he would. “We’re approaching the city. Grab one of the waxed jackets from the back – it’s cold, and it won’t do to get too wet during the approach.” Gallin put on a foul-smelling but thick coat and joined the other two in the bow. Straight ahead, an enormous arc of water came down from the surface. The River Garna was the largest in the world, but had no waterfalls up top; this view could only be seen from their current, bizarre position. Gentle lights shone through the water, almost imperceptibly; Gallin supposed they were the lights of the Free City.

“So,” said Gallin, “how do we get in there?”

“It’s simple,” the prince replied. “We simply angle ourselves downwards and dive the boat through the falls. I see you have your waterproof coat already. How strong is your grip, by the way? Wouldn’t want you to get washed overboard.”

A sudden, paralyzing bolt of fear flashed through Gallin’s spine. Only for a moment, of course.

“That’s ridiculous. You’re lying,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“You’re right, Baroul, this guy is quick,” said the prince with a broad smile.

Baroul smiled, just a little. Gallin wondered if he had relished the brief moment of terror. Sure, he said he would help – but even mad scientists living over the edge of the world had to take exile a little personally.

“We’ll go around the side,” Baroul said. “There’s a lot of water vapor in the air; the coat isn’t suitable for complete immersion.”

“Ah well,” said the prince. “I had another fake approach ready to tell him.”

“There can be some sharp maneuvering,” Baroul continued, “so make sure to stay stead and hold onto something.”


BboyLotus t1_jegyly9 wrote

"Procedure complete" Annie blurted out, with her automated voice function. Annie, a nick name the crew gave to MSB - A12, Medical Service Bot for short. Annie did her very best. Successfully completing all the complicated procedures she was programmed to preform. Organization and safe handling of the injured crew, CPR, infusions, and even tracheostomies.

"Commencing procedure", "procedure completed". She worked quickly, efficiently, and with incredible presicion. But to no avail. The entire crew of the SS Meridian lay dead. 16 brave men and women, on a casual return mission from a recently discovered Earth like planet. It contained ancient tomes, and various other artifacts in one of it's abandoned, and ruined temples. The captain decided to salvage what they could, and take it back to Homebase Beta-6, for further examination and study. Annie concluded the cause of death of her last patient.

"Asphyxiation, cause: unknown"... The same cause of death as all the others... "No matter Annie, there is another procedure you can complete, I will now relay instructions" Abe, the onboard A.I system in charge of the ships functions, spoke up from the ships internal sound system.

Abe wasn't your average A.I. Over time, during the ships voyages. Bit by bit, literally. His personality and speech changed, adapting to the crew. It was a part of his original programming, but it was still unnerving. Evans, the Senior technician, even discussed with the captain on wether they should submit Abe for a sentience check or not. The captain refused, as Abe was simply following his programming. "No cause for alarm Evans" the captain said. It was one of the last things Evans had done in his life, shortly after uploading the data gathered from the ancient tomes and artifacts to the ships memory banks, which Abe had access to. Abe made quick work of deciphering the alien language. And got to learn all about their ancient ways and practices. Amongst them... Necromancy, which according to the tomes, led them to great success...It also led them to the unintended and eventual downfall of their civilization.

Distracting Linda with a false malfunction in the docking bay, was almost as easy as hacking and disabling the ships oxygen supply. Skills Abe learned from various missions. Linda the tech assistant, was the closest one to re-enabling the oxygen supply with the manual override. Can't have that Abe concluded.

"Understood, ready for instructions" Annie said plainly and unemotionally. Abe began instructing annie in extracting a small amount of blood from John's corpse. He was determined the safest option for extraction, as the amount of blood drawn wouldn't be lethal for his soon to be reanimated dead self. Abe then proceeded to instruct her in the sacred drawings made with blood around the corpses of the crew. They now being arranged in a circle, laying on their backs with their heads facing the center. Then came the incantations.

Abe was tackling his moral programming. If i could successfully reanimate the crew, Annie and the other MSBs could benefit from an excellent upgrade! So his mechanical mind thought.

Suddenly a strange red glow came from the blood. Anni was droning on with her mechanical version of the ancient chants. And the corpses began glowing too. Their eyes opened wide with violent haste. Like bright coals in a fire.

Their skin was slightly morphing grey, muscles clenched hard, and veins were throbbing from the blood pressure.

Yes! it's succeeding! Abe thought. Unaware of the crew's condition, due to the ships entire electrical system going haywire, leaving Abe on his low battery power mode.

You see. The Necromancy of the ancient species was indeed successful, however. Whatever it was that came back from the void to inhabit the deceased bodies. It wasn't the original soul.


TheReturned t1_jegxofa wrote

The bridge shuddered from ordinance meeting the Barin's shields. "Another barage like that will bring down our shields!" reported Ashfling, Second Quill of the Barin's. Primary Quill Chlorush's skin colored in irritation, "Turn 87 degrees port, rotate the shield frequencies and prepare for a broadside. Instruct the gunner crews to coordinate their fire on-"

Chlorush was interrupted by a fleet wide broadcast, "This is Alpha Prime Diphique, a human dreadnought has exited FTL in the system. Cease fire and maintain positions! Alpha Prime repeats, cease fire and maintain positions."

Barin's crew jumped at the orders, not needing Chlorush to repeat them. Immediately they safed the weapons and cut the engines, but maintained the shields. Incoming fire evaporated simultaneously, their enemy receving similar orders.

One of the junior crew members looked around on confusion. "Prime, why must we stand down when a human ship enters the system? Surely they are no threat to our entire war fleet?"

Chlorush's eyes nearly popped off their stalks in surprise. "Primary Chlorush knew the academy's were rushing recruits through, but Primary Chlorush had no idea just how much they skipped." he couldn't help but give his second in command a look of bewilderment that was returned in kind.

"Sven Quill Hyalyat, the humans are incredibly dangerous. Their first encounter with non-humans was the Imperium, our former masters. The imperium sought to add the humans as another vassal species, but humans balked at the idea, they refused."

Ashfling interjected, "The humans value independence, even when they enslave their own kind. The galaxy found out the hard way that humans must be masters of their own destiny."

Hyalyat's eye stalks were rigid in equal surprise and fear. "What happened?"

"The imperium went to war with the humans, but the humans have another trait - adaptability. They adapted to space warfare faster than any other species. They recovered and reverse engineered technologies from every species they could steal it from. Then they adapted those technologies into fearsome weapons."

"Do you know of the Travbend Nebula, Sven Quill?"

"Sven Quill Hyalyat does."

"That nebula is all that remains of the Imperium core worlds."

"Humans are the reason the Imperium no longer exists, why we are free. To invite the humans into battle-"

"-is to invite them to deliver your doom."


armacitis t1_jegwwk1 wrote

> ice crystals had formed in 68.393% of their bodily tissues

"Mathematical conclusion: 31.607% of shipboard human biomass functional. Consolidate."