Found It — Our Home
Thursday, October 13th.
It appeared without a sound, without a whisper — sudden and complete.
As if under a spell, I clicked and stepped inside.
Came over from the Rabbit TV gallery — am I in the right place? Checking in first either way
The longer the better
[Image] Clip of her smacking fans' heads with a table
For the record my one-pick is Saedalkom
(NotEvenHuman emote)
"No way. This is actually real?"
I'd known roughly that Pan-beo-gal would appear around this time, but watching it unfold exactly as I remembered still left me a little rattled.
Could Ju-ttak be the same too?
Heart pounding, I left him a message. The reply that came back about an hour later was a disappointment. The Ju-ttak currently running Pan-beo-gal didn't recognize me at all.
At first I wondered if he was pretending not to know me on purpose, but even after carefully poking at things only the two of us would remember, he gave no reaction whatsoever. I had to accept it.
The only remaining link to the "me" from before the regression had been severed.
These guys, though. Still exactly the same.
The gallery had been created today, and already I couldn't tell how many pages of posts had gone up. Truly the lowest of the low among streaming-community addicts.
At some point, simply watching streams had stopped being enough for them. They prowled the forums, dumping their darker emotions wherever they could. If FM Community, with its real-name system, felt like the sunlit side of things, then a gallery with no controls at all was pure underworld.
Pan-beo-gal is still one of the milder ones, at least. They don't dig for streamers' Red Pills or personal info.
Among galleries, it was relatively tame. If you wanted the real thing, you only had to visit the other Pangea TV-adjacent boards — "Pan-bang-gal" or "Pan-in-gal." Those places were pure wilderness. Family insults and sexual harassment aimed at streamers were the baseline, and all day long fandoms tore into each other with identity theft, fabrications, and manufactured drama. I'd peeked in once, lost my mind, and fled on the spot. A place that bordered on the abyss.
"Still… seeing it again after so long. Kinda nice."
As posts flooded in, familiar nicknames kept surfacing among them — the community fossils who'd hazed me with territorial gatekeeping the first time I ever set foot in Pan-beo-gal. The thought that all of them were still exactly the same, while only I had changed, left me with a strange feeling.
Maybe this is the last time for me, too. It's not like I can write posts here anymore anyway.
If a streamer got caught posting in a gallery classified as the underworld, public roasting was all but guaranteed. Best practice was to give it no attention at all. And yet the human heart didn't work that way — especially not for internet broadcasters, people who lived on attention. Searching your own nickname was practically a habit, and that habit inevitably led you into the communities.
There were quite a few streamers who got caught mid-broadcast with a community tab open. "Forum lurker" stuck to them as a label for a while after that.
I wouldn't make a stupid mistake like that, but being careful never hurt. FM Community was one thing, but for a gallery rated as pure underworld, cutting ties for risk management was the right call.
Yes. That was exactly what I was thinking as I prepared to leave the gallery.
Every time I watch her stream she pisses off my little guy;; goes rock hard
"……."
What the hell was wrong with these people?
I had never once imagined I would become the target of sexual harassment. And the poster's nickname was familiar, too — someone I'd goofed around with before the regression, trading meaningless comments and laughing about nothing. My head was spinning.
And before I knew it, I was gripping the keyboard, furiously writing posts and replies.
Apparently I was fated never to escape this place.
The final strategy for Wooga-dol was complete.
Group A stayed as planned. Saturday viewer numbers were fundamentally higher, and I also wanted to leave a deeper impression one step ahead of the Group B contestants.
The real problem, as always, is the order.
I wanted the golden time slot — somewhere between 7 and 9 p.m. That meant landing slightly past the middle of the lineup. There was one more thing to factor in.
Ideally, I want to be as far from the strong performers as possible.
I'd said it before: my vocals were only a little above average. Going head-to-head against people who'd trained professionally or were born with it was a losing fight. So I had to be bold about flanking them instead of charging straight on.
There are a few ways. Emphasize performance and other elements over pure singing ability. Outmaneuver them on song choice. Or, like what I've been doing, practice early and win on polish and preparation.
Even talented singers couldn't nail a song perfectly the first time they performed it. That was why good vocalists sometimes flubbed auditions — song-choice misses. Picking something too niche from the start, or choosing a track that suited the audition format but wasn't familiar to them personally.
Of course, the best option is never running into the trucks in the first place. So if I can just read the order carefully…
The power of a regressor. I already knew the five finalists of this audition — and the popular contestants who'd drawn attention beyond them.
I absolutely have to stay away from Park Na-na. She's Group B anyway, so she doesn't affect me directly, but Lucy's in that group — I should give her a heads-up.
Park Na-na had been, for all practical purposes, the star of the first-round Wooga-dol stage. Landing a similar slot risked getting buried and having the spotlight stolen.
The people I need to watch out for are Q-Rings, Ji-ho, Elsa, and Berry, roughly? If I can just dodge them and land a slot around 7 or 8 p.m., that would be perfect.
I messaged Ssa-yo with my shady intentions buried as deep as possible. The reply took about three hours, but luckily a contestant was willing to swap, and I managed to move into the golden time slot.
I used the remaining time to give Lucy some advice, rested briefly, then went live.
[Can Seo-a Become an Idol?]
#Virtual #Stocks #Talk #Newbie
Even without special content, four or five hundred people were settling into the room by now. Of course, not all of them were dedicated fans. The virtual boom was still in full swing, and that number would shrink over time. Still, breaking a hundred subscribers was a meaningful metric. I needed to keep building the core fanbase, step by step.
With that in mind, I gave everything I had today to win over the crowd.
"Everyone! Seo-a's special news of the day! Shockingly, this Friday — I am streaming. Clap clap clap! Wait, a streamer who broadcasts even on her off day? Oh, I simply cannot allow this."
Ahem. The crowd was harsher than expected.
In the end, I had to drop a spoiler I never planned on giving, just to soothe them.
"Okay look, the truth is… I've been preparing something huge for the audition. That's why I've been so busy. Just wait a little longer. There'll be a moment when I go ta-da! and reveal it. And when that happens, you'll all be moved, proud to be my fans, and happy. Ahem!"
Good. That should make them appreciate my hard work, right?
"……."
I'd thought I'd finally learned how to handle the fans and adapted to streaming. Broadcasting, it turned out, was never that easy.