Congratulations and best wishes on your new job

This shit is terrible. I'm at my 3yr olds first school function with my ex-wife and whenever we are near one another it almost feels like nothing changed. But it really really fucking did. It's terrible seeing what could have been two supportive parents together at such a nice occasion, all these other couples together.. It blows. I left because she was miserable and treated me like shit but as the years have progressed the only thing that changes is more and more doubt. Was it being stuck together 24/7 for COVID, hormones from pregnancy, idk. It was so clear that I had to go for years. I didn't look back until my kid started to become people. Now I wish I made different choices but the problem is I think it's not real, just nostalgia, because it was bad, I was miserable, she was mean and didn't consider my needs, I didn't trust her because of the past. But we had a chance to start over with this kid and I'm not sure that's realistic but it's incredibly fucking sad to see what might have been so often. Every time we are together I want to get in the car with my wife and daughter and go home. But that home doesn't exist. I can't even tell my ex-wife because she is trying to move on with a new boyfriend and I feel that it would be selfish and disrespectful to do anything to confuse her or damage that. Though I want to. I really want to talk to her. But I can't. So now I think about what could have been, see it every time I see her, which is 4 times a week and I think about what could be if I was able to talk to her and maybe move forward again. But neither of those are real or realistic and as much as I know that it occupies my mind 24/7. I wake up with a knot in my stomach, like after a drunken night waking up in jail and you realize the nightmare is real. That you're living it and there is no going back. Hard to accept but eventually I will have to. Anyway, school functions are painful. I should be enjoying my kid but everything is just kinda sad. Is it better to not go? I don't know.

Hello Everyone!
First off, A heartfelt THANK YOU! to this sub and all of its resources (AFOQT, MEPS, interview tips, and more). For context, I'm a non-prior off-the-streets select for USSF this fall/winter (still waiting on class date but should head out between October to December). Please keep in mind this is an evolving situation, and the info may become out of date fairly quickly.
My recruiter notified me back in April that I was selected for the 13S Space Operations Officer. During a subsequent Zoom Q&A about Officer Training Course (OTC) at Peterson SFB, it was revealed that 13S is (potentially?) a place holder designation for Officer Training School (OTS) at Maxwell AFB in FY25. If you are graduating OTS during FY24 your USSF designation will supposedly be honored. Apparently, OTC is a new post OTS training course all new USSF officers will attend. Currently it is 12 months long consisting of 3 sections (4 months each cyber, intel, and space). After which, your class standing, education, needs of the USSF and job list are taken into account and the actual job (SFSC) will be determined towards the end. Important to note, there has yet to be a single OTC class. This is a brand new program to replace OUST at Vandenberg. First OTC class is scheduled to start in September. Additionally, every two months thereafter another OTC class should start. In between OTS and OTC newly commissioned 2nd LTs will be on casual status, shooting for about 45 days post OTS but no promises.

• Any thoughts on OTC being 25% of a USSF officers 4 year active duty service commitment? I personally wouldn't be surprised if ADSC gets extended to 6 years but who knows. For a 20 year career though it would be beneficial to have as a solid foundation. Plus USSF is only 4 yrs old.
• AFAIK from the Q&A the 6X, 13S, 14N, and 17X are the "main" SFSCs. Still not to sure on what that means. Little info on the engineering side and other careers.
• More info here, its a couple months old but still relevant.
• If anyone has any more/different information please feel free to add.

​
Semper Supra!

Forgive me for how bad this is because I'm awful at writing posts especially about myself but I'd love to meet some cool people and have some chilled chats about anything!
Here is some basic information about me if you're interested:
I'm Rory from the North Of Ireland and yes, I've got a weird accent
I currently work for the government, unfortunately I'm not a spy or anything exciting like that
I love music and I'm always going to gigs but my taste changes all the time, Some of my favourites lately are IDLES, Viagra Boys, The Smile, and Fleet Foxes. I also love sharing songs and playlists so feel free to send them my way
I'm a big traveller and love going on adventures especially to new places
I'm a bit of a gamer and play PS5/PC but I'm a bit of a loner in that department and would be down to play with some new people
I have a unhealthy addiction collecting vinyls
I'm constantly rewatching the same tv shows such as the office, it's always sunny in philadelphia, peep show, and the thick of it but I'm open for more recommendations
I enjoy reading books or watching documentaries on true crime and Irish history because I'm a loser
If none of the above interests you I have two dogs who are the best bois in the world and I can just provide pictures of them
I don't know else to say and feel like I've rambled on enough so hit me up if you'd like to! Have a good day! :)

Hi guys, I'd really appreciate help. A moment of your time, but over 7 months of hell for me at the doorway of resolution.
I had an, pretty inept dentist, sell me on the idea of fixing my side underbite even though my jaw couldn't handle it. He bothched the job after braces and 5 crowns and left me in pain with messed up bite and TMJ in constant pain.
I found a dentist who will try to return my teeth to original position with a new set of crowns. Question is, since my bite was messed up to acheve a different bite angle, should I align teeth for these new crowns at an orthodontist and then put the crowns or other way around. Orthodontist recomended I first do prosthetics and if needed do the treatment since my bite will change. I'm afraid of investing money in 5 new crowns if this is not the right way.
Any advice is welcome.

Squick warning: descriptions of particularly unpleasasnt smells and sights.
I've seen tales of hotel FD employees having to deal with cops who drop people off at the property, saying, "hey, this person needs a room," but before the hotel can collect payment and deposit, the cops just drive off, leaving the guest stranded and the front desk staff agitated with a new loiterer who decides to cause problems for said staff.
Today, we shall talk about one of these stories, at my old workplace, a motel of about three dozen rooms. The lobby / FD itself is in a suite about the size of a kitchen, like many other motels.
It's a Saturday night shift (22:00-6:00) like any other, and I'm just checking in the last of the arrivals. Someone had called to rent a room - I took name, phone number, and credit card details to hold the room for them.
I see that the cops have arrived and are escorting a man to the front desk to get him a room. Unfortunately, I'm also checking in a guest who already had a reservation, and before I can ask anything to the cop like whether he has a reservation or the funds to rent a room, she's already left as I finish handing the keys to the guest who actually has a booking. Wow, good job officer, so what was your contigency plan if he couldn't afford the room?
So the guy walks in, we'll just alias him as Kevin Kleinbottle. Kevin is a repeat guest to our property who seems to be in his 60s or 70s, having rented a few times here in the past...but hoo boy he has seen far better days. He's wearing some pretty tattered pajamas and smells like he hasn't showered or used the toilet in days. The poor guy also sounds like he's down on his luck, and I also noticed, since he got escorted here by the cops, what happened to the vehicle he would drive to come here?
Well at any rate, I break the news to him, that unfortunately we are sold out. This isn't me pretending to be sold out so I could avoid having to have a hard talk with him, we were genuinely sold out. And given his state, at least if I rented him a room he would be able to shower and get himself clean again.
He's, unsurprisingly, distraught about this. I tell him he could try the other motel around the corner, and he walks off.
Then the next day, he returns, once again aided by a cop who doesn't seem interested in seeing the business transaction through before leaving the property. At least this time the repungent odor is mostly gone and he's better-dressed, in a shirt, light jacket, and sweatpants, but still looks pretty unwell. And this time we had a room available to sell. Unfortunately, his card declines for the room payment and deposit.
He tells me to call the cops again so that they can try to get him somewhere else. The front desk phone is too far to reach to him, so I use my cellphone on speaker instead - of course, making sure it remains in my grip. The cops tell him that they can't assist him again because they are working on some high-profile case so every officer has their hands full.
In the meantime, he has me get a chair since he's getting tired and fears he might stumble over - I grab one of the plastic chairs from the back office.
I'm eager to get him off the property so that I can go back to my work and avoid drawing complaints from paying guests that happen upon his presence in the lobby, and he seems just as eager considering he can't afford a room and can't get anywhere by himself tonight. He decides to just have me call an ambulance instead, citing health problems. I do see that he has a wristband that states "FALL RISK", so I wouldn't be surprised if he was acquainted with the local hospital.
Which he was, upon the arrival of the ambulance and paramedics. They help him to his feet and escort him off.
And that was the last I saw of him - I hope he's doing better these days.

hey friends. a few months ago i made a post in here under the same name “this place is purgatory” talking about how fucking awful this place is for your physical and mental health. there are situations involving my store and district that i so badly wish i could share in here but just know if the time comes where i can put my DM on blast it will happen 🩵 today is tuesday may 14 and i have been officially done with the siren for an entire week. leaving my store and the friends ive made was absolutely bittersweet but i know it’s the right choice for me. im still in between jobs (working on my art full time) but even that stress is less than that of working for the siren. my biggest piece of advice is to save up as much as you can and GTFO asap. i will share that today is day 45 of my store not having a manager. by my DM’s own negligence. my partners are my friends and we still talk daily and things have only gotten worse over the past week. i haven’t even gone to get my tips yet as i don’t think i could see her and not cuss her ou as im no longer her employee. i want you to know that it is NOT NORMAL the way this job makes us feel. there is capitalist hellscapes, and then there’s Starbucks. you are not lazy or incompetent or slow. you’re a human being and your body is having the proper reaction to the environment you are in. i believe in you. you all believed in me and i was able to move on. we’ve got this yall 🩵
EDIT TO ADD: customers thank you for making the job bearable. partners at my store were encouraging disgruntled customers to call corporate about our store ATP. leave reviews on the app, call the resources, let corporate know that you won’t give them your businesses until they treat their employees better.

I (33,f) was with my ex bf (33,m) for a year and half. We met on Okcupid, and were very alike in many ways and hit it off right away, 4 months later, we decided to go steady. He came off as someone who was very family oriented, someone who cared about building a legacy, and was marriage minded, and that I was his first girlfriend.
Being together with him felt like a dream, he accepted me as a whole, encouraged me to improve, didn't leave when i went through surgery early on in our relationship, he took me to all his company's annual dinners, brought me to see his parents a month into getting official and I brought him to see mine a little later, he took us out on our first trip when we got intimate for the first time. Things were mostly peaceful and we hardly fought, i took care of him in every way I could, cooked, cleaned, took care of him when he was sick. I have never cared a single bit that he was earning lesser than I was, and I shared the dating expenses. I was nothing but grateful and happy to have found someone like him after all the prior unlucky encounters.
At one point in our relationship, he was having issues at work where his probation was being extended, I comforted him and worked together to pass the extension, i passed his cv to all the headhunters in my contacts and hoping it would help him securing a job opportunity elsewhere, he eventually passed and we celebrated it by taking a trip together.
After the trip, I found out that he's always had dating apps installed on his phone, i was devastated when I first found out and confronted him over it. He cried and begged that it was because he thought i would leave him as he was on the verge of losing his job at the time, he promised that he didn't swipe nor cheat on me, I broke down and promised him that I would always be by his side. He uninstalled the dating app after i found out and promised that we'll work towards our future, so we began our house hunting, and he eventually bought his first apartment for us.
A few months later, i realized my period stopped because of the pills we discussed over it and agreed to stop the pills, and he'd be using condom moving forward. However, he was really undisciplined when it comes to contraception and i eventually got pregnant, i didn't want to abort the child at first and told him we should just get married, he said that he wasn't ready and talked me into having an abortion. I was sad, but I didn't want my child to live a life where the father didn't want him. He promised that we would have our children in the future when the time was right. And so we went with his decision, I was crying the whole night before the visit and cried in front of the doctor. It was beyond devastating for me.
Fast forward to 26th of December, I had a hunch that he was hiding something from me, so I went through his phone, turned out he had been cheating on me since day 1 with girls from dating apps, he had been taking them out on dates, attempting to sleep with them. He used all my favourite pictures that i took of him on dating apps, claimed that he was looking for long-term relationships. It killed me to know that he texted them on my birthday, flirted with them on Valentine's day, cheated on me even when I was helping him with job hunting while he lived a double life that I knew nothing of. I confronted him right away, and he claimed it was because his parents didn't like me, he begged me not to go, he claimed that he hadn't done anything physical with them and swore he will not cheat on me ever again, and we went for our first couple counselling on the same night. Life after that was hell, i couldn't trust him, i was fighting with my own self-respect, i fell into a deep depression. We tried our best at rebuilding the trust, and i acknowledged that he tried his best to reassure me and calmed me down whenever i was having a panic attack.
We decided to take a 3 week break after a month of trying to reconcile, the 3 weeks of no contact were brutal, i didn't know if he was cheating on me but I was so afraid of losing him at the same time. 3 weeks later, he came over to my house with gifts and broke up with me. I begged for him not to go, and that we can mend things. He wished me all the best and promised that i'll find my forever person one day and he then just left.
It's been 3 and a half months since the break up, and it still haunts me, i tried my best in that relationship, i gave in my all, i was a good girlfriend, i listened to him and was supportive. But this is what i'm being rewarded with, a very painful experience.

I've noticed a lot of posts about the 32 EDH / commander deck challenge recently, so I thought I would give some advice for those starting or are already on their journey from someone who has completed it.
I recently posted in my LGS's discord for someone who asked a similar question, so I thought I would share it here.
For context, I have been playing magic consistently since about M12 (2011) and playing commander since about Dark Ascension (2012).

1. Developing your land bases is an important step based on your budget. If you know you're going to make one of every colour, your colour fixing will be very similar for all of them. It's also the most expensive part depending; and now is a good time. After MH3, all 10 fetches will be the cheapest in a while, shocks have had recent reprints, etc. During my process over the years making them, I've changed deck themes so often, so it helps to have ready to go.
   • This can include having a stack of cheaper staples like Sol Rings and Arcane Signets.
2. As for deck choices, I found picking a challenge is a creative and fun way then just make XYZ good stuff. For instance using companion for the restriction, no rares, style of art/theme, intentionally bad commander, pet card tribal, etc.
3. Wait a while (two sets or so) for a popular commander to leave the zeitgeist so it's staples don't hold the inflated price from hype. You don't have to be the first person to have a new Obeka deck at FNM for it to function the same months later.
4. Try sticking to only have one colour combo at a time. It's cool to have a style you jive with, but branching out of the same same is also a process for this. You have to like what you play, and remember that colours are more diverse than ever. Hate counter spells and control? Blue has artifacts galore. Hate artifacts too? Try merfolk or illusion or kraken tribal.
   • This is much easier if you have a land base developed.
5. Diversify. Having seven artifact decks gets old fast (trust me). Not all your decks can be your favourite, but variety is the spice of life. It allows for more options on any given day. It also lets other people try out different strategies when lending them your decks.
6. To help with the previous point it's super easy to add a colour or two to an existing deck in order to keep the spirit of another one. I.e. I love a new Dimir (UB) commander, but I can't bare to break up my artifact deck, so I'll add white and make it Esper (WUB). Knock down another colour combo AND get your new hottness. Get two birds stoned at once. Decks evolve as time goes on and more cool cards are added to the pool, so shifting colours is normal.
7. Work with what you have. It's a cost effective, fun, and creative way rather than net-decking the best EDHrec version of a deck. I find this also gets at the spirit of casual magic.
8. If you don't have a base collection to work with; precons are a great start for newer players and buy only the singles you need.
   • Cracking packs is fun and all that, and if you must, limit yourself to limited environments (drafts, pack wars or sealed with a friend, etc.).
9. Don't rush. Enjoy the journey. There will always be new cards if you don't love your current options for a specific colour combination.

I hope these few pieces of advice help people on their journeys to completing your decks!

Bit about me: I'm 24 years old. I have a degree in mechanical engineering but no work experience. After graduation, I worked as a web designer for some time but don't like it anymore. My plan is to go back and get a master's degree in engineering so that I can aim for a job that match my needs.
I have identified three needs when it comes to my job:
1) Peaceful and neat work environment with minimal amount of people. (Eg: lab or a room) I would like to avoid industrial settings or exposed environment with a lot of noise/people.
2) Good work-life balance where I can check in and out at regular times. Would like to avoid the hustle.
3) Decent pay. I don't wish for a lavish lifestyle and don't need the highest paid jobs. But I would still like to earn above-average income so I can lead a comfortable life.
(I'm not sure if my needs are unrealistic but these are what I have identified as my priorities)
Note: Since my bachelor's degree is in mechanical engineering, I need to find a career that is related to it in some manner so I'm eligible for further education. I'd prefer not to have my bachelor's degree to go to waste.
In short, I currently need to decide what master's degree to choose. But for that I have to know which job I'm aiming for. So I would appreciate your suggestions as to what jobs would be right for me based on the needs I mentioned. Thanks in advance!

I'm not a new player. I've played Yugioh on and off since US release in 2002. I've played all kinds of high rarity cards. OG 1st ed versions of stuff, ultimate rares, champion pack stuff, even YCS prize cards. Quarter Century Secret Rare is hands down my favorite rarity in the game. If possible I would easily choose to have everything I play be this rarity and I have actually made this choice for some cards I play even in older formats like Edison despite it being considered blasphemy by some other players of old formats.
In my opinion the rarity looks amazing. It's a higher rarity without being exorbitantly expensive to the point of serious risk of theft and or damage if not even just accessibility issues. A decent number of cards have and continue to come out in this rarity especially staples which means you can have more of your deck match rarity which is more aesthetically pleasing.
I think the introduction of this rarity and the expansion of it with rarity collection 1 & 2 are great for the game and hope they continue using it moving forward. Regardless of reprint value I think the best thing about the rarity collections is it gives people the option to play cards in their preferred rarity. So yes while MST didn't technically NEED it's 59th or whatever printing I'll definitely be picking up a QCR to play in Edison along with some other cards.

Eivor is a bit of a strange protagonist.
She’s basically flawless and without blame. She’s brash and bold, proud and unashamed — brave and wise far beyond her years, yet able to be soft and compassionate when not brandishing spears. She’s got a knack for leadership, a strong moral compass and an even stronger muscular system with which to enact justice.
And she’s got bars?
As someone not deeply versed in medieval European histories, imagine my shock and confusion upon discovering that Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla included rap battling.
My first experience with Flyting had me asking so many questions about what I just witnessed that I couldn’t wait to begin Googling. I figured flyting probably was historically accurate, but if that’s the case, then what else can it tells us about the medieval warrior and about Eivor’s characterization?
I set off to find out.
--
Wikipedia and howstuffworks combined gave me a robust definition of flyting.
A ritual, poetic exchange of insults practiced mainly between the 5th and 16th centuries. Examples of flyting are found throughout Scots, Ancient, Medieval and Modern Celtic, Old English, Middle English and Norse literature involving both historical and mythological figures. The exchanges would become extremely provocative, often involving accusations of cowardice or sexual perversion.
The idea behind flyting was to influence public opinion of the participants and raise both of their profiles. And each participant wanted to make himself look better than the other, even if they were friendly.
Not only that, but flyting’s also the first recorded use of shit as an insult. That right there is worth this whole essay and then some.
--
I came away from those definitions with some small Euphoria, as they reinforce what I already expected from Ubisoft — historically accurate and (arguably) immersive side activities grounded in realism.
Unfortunately, none of the flyting foes that Eivor faces in this fantasy are founded in any real-world flyters. I was particularly frustrated when I realized Fergal the Faceless and Borghild the Alewife’s Bane were fictional features, not real historical fiends of rhythm and rhyme.
Two of Eivor’s syntax competitors are “real” in some sense, however.
In Norse mythos, Odin, Thor, Loki, Freyja and more would handle their Family Matters over a flyte from time to time, dueling wits and words as competition and entertainment.
In fact, one flyte we do see in game — Odin as he flytes over the river with Thor in the Asgard Arc — is likely a reference to a real medieval Norse poem; The Hárbarðsljóð.
In it, Thor jaunts back to Asgard after a journey in Jötunheim. He comes to a junction in which he must jump a large river, and thus hunts down a ferryman to shepherd him across. The ferryman, Hárbarðr, is Odin in disguise. He then begins to diss guys.
Ahem. ‘Guys’ being Thor, obviously.
First, Odin drops a yo-mama joke:

Of thy morning feats art thou proud, but the future thou knowest not wholly; Doleful thine home-coming is: thy mother, me thinks, is dead.

He keeps going, taking more shots than a First Person Shooter, this time saying Thor dresses like a girl:

Three good dwellings methinks, thou hast not; Barefoot thou standest and wearest a beggar’s dress; Not even hose dost thou have.

Thor says watch your mouth before I clap back:

Ill for thee comes thy keenness of tongue, if the water I choose to wade; Louder, I ween, than a wolf thou cryest, if a blow of my hammer thou hast.

Odin replies by saying Thor’s wife is fucking another dude:

Sif has a lover at home, and him shouldst thou meet; More fitting it were on him to put forth thy strength.

The version we play out in game isn’t identical to the real-world poem, but carries some similarities; Thor’s threatening to cross the river to fight Odin as well as his boasting of slaying giants are present in each.
Ratatosk is the only other ‘real’ flyting enemy in Valhalla. While Odin doesn’t flyte with Ratatosk in Norse myth to my knowledge, the flyting against the squirrel is thematically accurate, at least.
Ratatosk’s purpose is to scramble up and down Yggdrasil, scurrying spoken messages from the eagle that sits at its peaks to the snake that slithers at its base. The nature of Ratatosk’s messages is in line with the act of flyting — the mischievous rodent carries falsehoods and aggressive statements to stir up drama and distrust between bird and serpent.
Flyting took place not only in poems and folklore, but in town squares and royal court. It was a facet of medieval life and social interaction. This weaving of prose then, in this time period, seemingly was just about as much of an admired skill as the swinging of a sword. It’s no wonder our unbreakable warrior Eivor is so proficient with word.
--
Like, really proficient with word.
I mean, I know it’s me choosing the dialogue options, but sheesh, is there anything she can’t do?
Actually, Eivor’s expertise in flyting is strange to me. It feels random and unearned — out of character, even. It comes more unexpectedly than Kendrick Lamar’s Not Like Us.
It probably only feels out of character, however, due to our modern understanding of proficiency with words versus proficiency with might. Our current interpretation of verbal ability compared to physical ability would perceive verbal ability as the ‘softer’ of the two skillsets. Physical strength is typically interpreted as tough and more dominant. You don’t expect to see an MMA fighter composing poetry, do you? The qualities that modern thought attributes to writing and physicality don’t mesh.
But in reality — and historically accurately in Valhalla — medieval warriors weren’t just blind berserkers. They were actually artists, poets and writers.
We’ve already demonstrated how Odin and Thor — Norse myth’s most famous warriors — carried out flyting. Thus, medieval Vikings would’ve surely done the same. Beyond Vikings though, the Illiad contains instances of public, ritualized abuse. Taunting songs are present in Inuit culture while Arabic poetry contains a form of flyting called naqa’id. Further, Japanese Samurai were known to be frequent composers of haiku, while Japanese culture also gave birth to Haikai, poetry in which vulgar satire and puns were wielded.
This historical accuracy ends up eliminating the randomness of Eivor’s flyting ability. Despite her verbal finesse feeling unearned, we can surmise historically that Eivor has practiced the wielding of words plenty in her life before we take over as the player. She’s dedicated time to this.
Now that we know why she has it, we can take a closer look at what it does for her.
--
So, Eivor can rap. She can match you with her axe or she can match you with her words. She’s just about unbeatable.
Her mastery of words demonstrates on some level that she’s not all Push Ups and might is right. She’s not all bruiser and bluster, burn and berserk. She’s an appreciator of the finer things — the more abstract, mental skills that require brain power, deftness and finesse.
This duality of strength and genius rounds out Eivor into a deeper, richer, more admirable character. More than just raw muscle in pursuit of glory, Eivor’s mastery of verse demonstrates her prioritizing not just her body, but her mind.
And it goes a long way for her.
Eivor can use her prowess with prose to progress past pointless plot points throughout Valhalla’s plethora of arcs and missions. It’s just a stat check in the end, but with enough practice flyting and enough charisma gained, Eivor unlocks new dialogue options that bend the world around her to her will.
Witch hunters in Eurvicscire on the brink of terrorizing Moira can be dispersed verbally rather than brawled or killed. There’s an entire riddle-solving fetch quest in Wincestre that can be skipped completely by telling King Aelfred’s abbot fuck off (figuratively). Eivor’s sharpening of her mind protects her body, saves her time, and allows her to frictionlessly fell her endeavors.
Her articulate advances don’t just alter her into admirability, they allow her to influence people and progression. With semantics from her mouth and twists from her tongue, Eivor can have her way whenever she wishes. In a game this large, I’m only left longing that the opportunity to make use of this charisma wasn’t relegated to niches.
Regardless, if medieval England is butter, Eivor’s tongue is the hot knife that behooves her move through her subduing more smoothly.
It all just goes to show that ̶m̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ flyte is right.

One of the most common principles that I've seen on the exam is:
The PM should always discuss, investigate, analyze before deciding on a solution. In other words, the PM should take a step back and not haste to make a decision.
Let's apply this principle to some PMP exam questions:

1. A project manager is managing a project that requires specialized architecture services. The project was identified as a high for the organization. The project manager works with an external architect who is highly specialized. However, the architect will soon resign because they accepted an offer from another firm. What should the project manager do next?

A - Escalate the issue to the procurement department and ask them to discuss this with the vendor firm
B - Ask the architect for the contact details for their new employer and call their account manager
C - Discuss this with the project team, assess the impact, and decide on the appropriate actions to follow
D - Call the account manager and ask them to retain the expert by offering them an incentive
**Important PMP hack: Anytime, the question mentions, "What should the PM do first or next, it's simply about prioritizing the solutions and choosing the first best step. The best step will follow the principle discussed here.
Just from applying the principle, I know the answer is C. All the other options jump straight into a solution without the PM taking a step back and assessing the details.
Your turn. Try to apply the principle to this exam question below:
At a project meeting, a business analyst requires input from marketing to continue working on a task. The business analyst has tried to contact the consultant but has been told that the consultant does not have the time provide the necessary information. What should the project manager do first?
A - Escalate the issues about the consultant to the functional manager so the consultant dedicates the necessary time to the project
B - Urge the business analyst to continue contacting the consultant to discuss the project since this is the responsibility of the business analyst
C - Include a new project risk into the risk register and allocate the consultant as the risk owner as it is their responsibility to provide input
D - Discuss the request with the consultant and set up time with the business analyst and consultant to discuss the project requirements

I have a friend, muslim, 31 female who married a Hindu, 31 male during covid at Arya samaj against his parents wish. Her parents were supportive.

1. The guy's family humiliated my friends family a lot and she was unable to take it so she didn't entertain their family for the longest time
2. The first few years of the marriage were seemingly ok.
3. Friend had a baby through IUI after 3 years of marriage.
4. The guys parents did not know they were married for over 3 years and the found out after she got pregnant and they immediately had a wedding reception for them. (There was hostility and hatred)
5. Friend husband turned incredibly abusive, strangling her, kicking her when she was pregnant, cursing her, calling her names, locking her in the bathroom, forcing her to have sex and a hundred other things I don't have the energy to type.
6. Friend moved to parents house for pregnancy and child birth.
7. He is forcing her to come back to their house or move to his parents house and is picking up huge fights with her and her family. He tried to take the baby away on multiple occasions since she refused. He is blackmailing her.
8. Now her family is blaming her that she married him of her own accord. She should bear the consequences.

Now the baby is 4 months old. She doesn't want to move back with him. She doesn't want to divorce him either. What are the best options she has? She has a WFH job that pays 40K per month.

Hello! My girlfriend and I recent booked a trip to the UK and France/Belgium in December (Traveling from Austin, TX).and I am looking into getting some new gear for the trip. Here’s the wish list of items I would like some recommendations on:

• Backpack for flight and travel
• Carry on
• Shoulder Sling
• Packable Rain Jacket
• Light down jacket that is preferable water resistant at least.

I have already done some research, but have nothing to compare to as this is new to me. I have looked at:
Travel Backpacks from: AER, Bellroy, Patagonia, and Thule
Carry On’s from: Monos, Away, and Beis
Shoulder Sling’s from: Bellroy, Alpaka, and Thule
In terms of budget I am flexible, and am okay with paying a premium as I anticipate traveling more and using all of these over time.
Also: any recommendations on the best two day trip outside of Paris would be appreciated :)

Tarot Reader since 2017 who has fully mastered in depth readings to bring true insight to the energies and circumstances you are dealing with, with the use of Oracle and Astrology as well. Shaneka's Services And Contact Linktree
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If I had a magic wand, what would be one thing I would change about Destiny 2?
I would make it so that you only had one frame for any given weapon (same for armor but that might be considered a second change).
Some Context:

• I'm a returning player who stopped playing at the launch of Lightfall
• The main reason I stopped playing was my vault was full, and I was tired of sitting in the vault trying to decide what to keep and what to shard
• I don't mind the grind (farming Lost Sectors, Onslaught, PVP modes, etc.)
• I came back because I had an itch, and I learned about builds and craftable weapons
• I believe craftable weapons mostly fulfill my wish for those weapons, but I'm not sure as I haven't crafted a weapon yet (working on it... I dismantled my first deepsight resonance weapon and got no pattern / progress :wompwomp:, I extracted my second one and did get progress :yay:)
• I keep 5 Summoners, 2 Heliocentric QSCs, 3 Tusk of the Boar, 3 Cataphract GL3s, & 1 Riptide (:yay: only 1) on my character at all times.

But How - A Few Ideas (without destroying the grind or a massive overhaul):

1. Make all weapons craftable. You would still have to grind the different game modes for the different patterns.
2. Focusing engrams (and/or infusing weapons) would unlock a random perk (infusing would select a perk from the infused weapon) for your frame. New weapons could have no perks, be curated, or be random rolls (any of these options could work). To make it a grind:
   • You might already have the perk.
   • Some perks (e.g. Rampage) would be more common than others (e.g. Onslaught).
   • Some columns (i.e. barrels, mags) would be more common than others (i.e. 3rd / 4th).
   • Weapons could be limited to 3-4 perks in each column (for the sake of the current UI design) with the ability to lock perks so perks you wanted to keep were not overwritten, and perks you didn't care about could be.
3. Playing certain game modes with the frame would unlock progress towards certain perks (similar to masterworks). For example:
   • N kills in Trials would unlock Kill Clip
   • 3 kills in a single mag (N times) in Onslaught would unlock Subsistence

What are your thoughts? If you had a magic wand, what would be the one thing you would change about Destiny 2?

Today illustrated that the Democrats have become America’s cheerleaders, emphasizing how investment in the nation’s infrastructure has created jobs and rebuilt the country. This week, the Biden-Harris administration is touting its investments in rebuilding roads and bridges, making sure Americans have clean water, getting rid of pollution, expanding access to high-speed internet, and building a clean energy economy, contrasting that success with Trump’s eternal announcements of an “Infrastructure Week” that never came.
The White House today announced that it has awarded nearly $454 billion in funding from the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, including more than 56,000 projects across more than 4,500 communities across the nation. Those include fixing more than 165,000 miles of roads and more than 9,400 bridges and improving more than 450 ports and 300 airport terminals. It has funded more than 1,400 drinking water and wastewater projects and projects to replace up to 1.7 million toxic lead pipes, as well as more than 8,000 low- and zero-emission buses. It has funded 95 previously unfunded Superfund projects to clean up contaminated sites. It has improved the electrical grid and funded 12,000 miles of high-speed internet infrastructure, and exposed internet junk fees.
The White House explained that this investment is making it cheaper to install clean energy technology and lowering families’ monthly energy bills, and highlighted today the available rebates to enable people to take advantage of the new technologies.
On Wednesday, May 8, a report from the Semiconductor Industry Association and the Boston Consulting Group explored the “breathtaking speed,” as the president of the semiconductor organization put it, at which the industry is growing. In the Financial Times on May 9, John Thornhill reported that the CHIPS and Science Act, which provided a $39 billion investment in the semiconductor industry, has “primed a torrent of private sector investment.” With the influx of both federal money and an additional $447 billion of private investment in 83 projects in 25 states, the report forecasts that the U.S. will increase its share of global manufacturing capacity for leading-edge chips from today’s rate of 0% to 28% by 2032. Thornhill compared this investment to that spurred by Russia’s 1957 launch of the Sputnik satellite.
The Economist yesterday announced that the U.S. “is in the midst of an extraordinary startup boom,” and explored “[h]ow the country revived its “go-getting spirit.”
In contrast to the Democrats’ confidence in America, the Republicans are all-in on the idea that the country is an apocalyptic wasteland. At a rally in New Jersey Saturday, Trump announced: “On day one we will throw out Bidenomics and reinstate MAGAnomics.” He promised to extend his 2017 tax cuts for the wealthy and corporations.
But the gist of his speech was an angry, vitriolic picture of a failing nation full of “enemies” that are “more dangerous” than China and Russia and who are “going to destroy our country.” In his telling, the criminal case against him in Manhattan is “bullsh*t,” and President Biden has done more damage than the “ten worst presidents in the history of our country” combined: “[h]e’s a fool; he’s not a smart man…[h]e’s a bad guy…the worst president ever, of any country. The whole world is laughing at him.”
Trump lied that other countries are “emptying out their mental institutions into the United States, our beautiful country. And now the prison populations all over the world are down. They don’t want to report that the mental-institution population is down because they’re taking people from insane asylums and from mental institutions.” Then he riffed into “the late great Hannibal Lecter,” the fictional murderer and cannibal in the film The Silence of the Lambs, apparently to suggest that similar individuals are migrating to the U.S.
House Republicans this week are working to pass a nonbinding resolution to condemn Biden’s immigration policies, although it was Republicans, under orders from Trump, who killed a strong bipartisan immigration bill earlier this year.
The only way to turn back this apocalypse, Trump and his supporters insist, is to put Trump and his team back into the White House. From there, Republicans will return those they consider “real” Americans to power.
The last few days have added new information about what that means. On Thursday, May 9, Senators Katie Britt (R-AL), Marco Rubio (R-FL), and Kevin Cramer (R-ND) introduced the More Opportunities for Moms to Succeed (MOMS) act. Britt—who is best known for her disastrous response to Biden’s State of the Union speech from her kitchen—said the measure would provide a federal database of resources for pregnant women and women parenting young children, but that information excludes anything that touches on abortion.
The measure is clear that it enlists the government in opposition to abortion, but more than that, it establishes that the government will create a database of the names and contact information of pregnant women, which the government can then use “to follow up with users on additional resources that would be helpful for the users to review.”
A government database of pregnant women would give the federal government unprecedented control over individuals, and it is especially chilling after the story Caroline Kitchener broke in the Washington Post on May 3, that a Texas man, Collin Davis, filed a petition to stop his ex-partner from traveling to Colorado, where abortion is legal, to obtain an abortion. Should she do so, his lawyer wrote, he would “pursue wrongful-death claims against anyone involved in the killing of his unborn child.” Now Davis wants to be able to depose his former partner along with others he says are “complicit” in the abortion.
Antiabortion activists are also seeking to make mifepristone and misoprostol, drugs used in many abortions, hard to obtain. In Louisiana, state lawmakers are considering classifying the drugs as “controlled dangerous substances,” which would make possessing them carry penalties of up to ten years in prison and fines of up to $75,000.
More than 240 Louisiana doctors wrote to lawmakers saying that the drugs have none of the addictive characteristics associated with dangerous controlled substances and warning that the drugs are crucial for inducing routine labor and preventing catastrophic hemorrhage after delivery, in addition to their use in abortions. “Given its historically poor maternal health outcomes, Louisiana should prioritize safe and evidence-based care for pregnant women,” the doctors wrote.
Louisiana lawmakers also rejected a bill that would have allowed anyone under age 17, the age of consent in Louisiana, to have an abortion if they became pregnant after rape or incest. Passionate testimony from those who suffered such attacks or who treated pregnant girls as young as 8 failed to convince the Republican lawmakers to support the measure. “That baby [in the womb] is innocent.… We have to hang on to that,” said Republican state representative Dodie Horton.
Today, at the Asian Pacific American Institute for Congressional Studies, a nonpartisan, nonprofit organization promoting Asian American and Native Hawaiian/Pacific Islander participation and representation at all levels of the political process, Vice President Kamala Harris encouraged young people to innovate and to move into spaces from which they have been traditionally excluded.
“So here’s the thing about breaking barriers,” she said. “Breaking barriers does not mean you start on one side of the barrier and you end up on the other side. There’s breaking involved. And when you break things you get cut. And you may bleed. And it is worth it every time…. We have to know that sometimes people will open the door for you and leave it open. Sometimes they won’t. And then you need to kick that f*cking door down.”
Harris’s advice reflects the history that happened on this date in 1862, when the enslaved mariners on board the shallow-draft C.S.S. Planter gathered up their families, fired up the ship’s boilers, and sailed out of the Charleston, South Carolina, harbor. The three white officers of the ship had gone ashore, leaving enslaved 23-year-old pilot Robert Smalls to take control. Smalls knew how to steer the ship and give the proper signals to the Confederates at Fort Sumter, Fort Moultrie, and three other checkpoints.
Smalls piloted the Planter, the sixteen formerly enslaved people on it, and a head full of intelligence about the Confederate fortifications at Charleston to the U.S. Navy. In Confederate hands, the Planter had surveyed waterways and laid mines; now that information was in U.S. hands. Smalls went on to pilot naval vessels during the war, and in 1864 he bought the house formerly owned by the man who had enslaved him.
A natural leader, Smalls went on to become a businessman, politician, and strong advocate for education. After serving in the 1868 South Carolina Constitutional Convention that made school attendance compulsory and provided for universal male suffrage, he went on to serve in the South Carolina legislature from 1868 to 1874, when he was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives, where he served until 1887. When President Barack Obama signed an executive order establishing the nation’s first national monument concerning Reconstruction, he cited the life of Robert Smalls.
—
Notes:
https://newjerseymonitor.com/2024/05/12/trump-brings-2024-campaign-to-the-jersey-shore/
https://www.esquire.com/news-politics/politics/a60774814/trump-rally-new-jersey-weird-speech/
https://www.britt.senate.gov/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/MOMS-Act_FINAL-Britt_Rubio_Cramer1.pdf
https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/article/2024/may/11/katie-britt-proposes-federal-database-to-collect-data-on-pregnant-people
https://www.washingtonpost.com/investigations/2024/05/03/texas-abortion-investigations/
https://lailluminator.com/2024/05/08/rape-incest/
https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2024/05/13/abortion-pills-louisiana-controlled-substance/
https://www.economist.com/finance-and-economics/2024/05/12/america-is-in-the-midst-of-an-extraordinary-startup-boom
https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/statements-releases/2024/05/13/fact-sheet-biden-harris-administration-kicks-off-infrastructure-week-by-highlighting-historic-results-spurred-by-president-bidens-investing-in-america-agenda/
https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/statements-releases/2024/05/13/fact-sheet-president-bidens-investing-in-america-agenda-is-helping-american-families-across-the-country-save-money/
https://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/documents/icymi-the-great-american-innovation-engine-firing-again
https://www.ft.com/content/0d39e8f0-38ba-40aa-8ec8-d04e82afb690
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/08/us/politics/chips-grants-fuel-industry-growth.html
https://www.politico.com/news/2024/05/11/trump-rally-new-jersey-trial-fascists-00157482
https://obamawhitehouse.archives.gov/the-press-office/2017/01/12/presidential-proclamations-establishment-reconstruction-era-national
https://www.nps.gov/people/robert-smalls.htm
Twitter (X):
cspan/status/1790048826440503495
Fritschnestatus/1790051154887340473
rosiewestwood/status/1788291766866567439
CecileRichards/status/1789020452855140723
https://heathercoxrichardson.substack.com/p/may-13-2024

Hello you lot. I thought I’d share my story of sobriety to help myself and anybody else who needs it. With the benefit of hindsight I know that stories are powerful, know that you are not alone against your most desperate belief. Plod on, and hold on.
I was abusing alcohol for a decade, very much to cope with grief, then more trauma, then social isolation. Horrible. When I look back upon my twenties I am awash with shame and guilt- waves and waves of it. I put myself in terrible situations, wasted a bunch of my time, brains and opportunities. Every moment felt like pain and like I was holding on to life with drops of alcohol. But it was during Covid that it really hit the fan - I thought I had an abortion, then my business failed, cut out family, and got dumped by someone I thought loved me with zero warning. Of course now I thank my stars that it did, when it did.
Anyways after that I loved to a new job and got involved with a chronic manipulator and cheater , who was a colleague. When this ended everyone shunned me and I just read the room. After that I broke up with two more “friends” who treated me like absolute shit.
It is at this point I realised:

1. I have had enough of shit people who didn’t deserve me or weren’t bringing anything good into my life
   
2. I will pursue my passion and yes, I deserve to be happy and respected and cherished.
   
3. People need to earn your love and grace. Don’t waste it.
   

So frankly after that I just got “accidentally “ sober. I didn’t go to hang outs because I was required to or it would be weird not to socialise with the “group”. It was by no means easy then and it is no means east now but praise the lord, I feel simply divine. Things improved - slowly, it was hard to notice in the beginning. If I hadn’t been sober I would have absolutely tanked a highly stressful corporate gig I had done in the last year. I feel so much stronger, hopeful and happy. My self esteem is much better. There are no (toxic) friends. It’s been baptism by fire but I only made it out in good shape because I was sober. And I don’t think I could have ever gone sober if I still had my “friends”. I wish I had listened to my gut sooner, and that I treated myself with more dignity. That’s all.
I don’t know what the decade of drinking had done to my brain and body. I hope I can make up for lost time in the next few decades. My immediate goals for the next year is to find my target job, continue working on my sport performance. In the next few years I hope I also build my own support network of new friends, love and a family of my own.
So, here’s to living. I love you and I am proud of every single one of you who is here, showing up for a losing battle. And when you are ready to put up a fight, remember you won’t fight it alone. ❤️
Iwndwyt

Yes.. Yess.. Alright there Daddy, I mean Danny. Yeah shut the fuck up.
Verse on Danny: Dear Tank I wrote you a letter. See my daddy wasnt there so now I crave attention. See I would do anything I can to ride your wave for mentions. Even pretended you dissed me just to create dissention. I dug through all you and Pop's songs just to find some ammunition, now im all out of lotion. So my dick burns and my hand is itching. I posted that Pop said some racist shit on Facebook, but changed the title cause I couldnt get your friends to listen. I cant do numbers and I need the advice. I paid my mom for her to advertise me, I need the hype. I hope you see this dog it eases me to sleep at night. Whats it like to actually be dope and have a buzz? I paid Gnat, but I still cant break 20 friends. I wear this crown but my throne is really full of malus. I cant picture me without the drugs.
Verse on John: Dear Tank, I kept tagging you 6 months ago you wouldn't respond. You owe me dog dont leave me here for long. While your out living life and doing things I wish I could, I spend all day on the internet trying to get some looks. I know I said I was straight but yet played victim hook, cause I aint killed nobody. Im not built like that I lived in hoods. Got too much hate up on my diss so I deleted it. I tryna bait me but I miss. So much for clicks and dislikes. I really hate that im a bitch. I cant do shit but diss right? I cant create a single hit. So I take hits from this pipe. Miss shells in the nozzle, got hit with the nasal spay. The Boogeyman of this Bu cocky shit. The only shots are on my face, Im prolly sick, its prolly jizz, I prolly need some molly shit to take this pain away. I just delay it shit. Eyes red, I feel my hood in your hoodie man. Im tryna weather days but im not Boogie Man. Critiqued you for your mental health cause I dont get complexities. Im a simple man with simple bars. I kill a man, Jarrott. it makes sense right? But when you kill a man get jarred hoe. Get sentenced for life. Im just a lonely man with no friends or bodies to show. And if I end it all tomorrow? Shit nobody would know.
Oh we just having fun now.. Let me show yall how to make a diss..
Verse on Gnat: Im waiting, im patient, you baited. You made a grenade on this paper, pull the pen ive been waiting. How you gonna claim wins from your moms basement, you aint got no Ems on your plate list. The crown you been claiming? It aint raining! 5 months Gnat still no reply. John asked about me when his own squad going poltergeist. Dont throw the fight. John started his rap rhyming rap shit 4 times. But you wanna claim im the one whoes lazy? Shit im bored of you poor rhymes. Gnat's masculine hardcore? When he the one clapping back with insults about Star Wars. Outrap me. Come on Gnat roll up. Its Ironic that im Emo. The fuck you killing yourself for? Zareem already murdered you, Stan aint nobody heard of you. Only time you fucks catching bodies in the morgue, you murdered who? Shit the first 48 hours. I know whoes missing. Pop already covered you, exposed you for your googling. Your bars dont connect, dont hide that phone when you spitting no? You need more practice. Unlike LLR this is real life. You claim I run but yet I still fight, outrapped you on your own rhyme scheme, Gnat just got killed twice.
Verse on all 3: Hold up change it up, something yall dont know how to do with that same old boring ass style. Lotta Danny, Got no time for your problems. The shit you spit is nonsense. Begged Ren to do a song with you then he robbed you. How many of us you paying money to gaslight you with fake praise and fake opinions. Gnat calls himself a king? Well thank the lord for me. Got a buzz off my name? now im claiming your royalties. John upset that it took me 1 month, dog it took you 5 months to clap back, you brag about that? 24 hours im back on the track. Get your fat ass back on the track and move quicker. Or maybe not cause your movements sus. And now your mad attacking me cause your raps all suck. Acting like these are lies? Bitch grow up. How about you switch that flow up. Coming with the same cadence dog? We be bored of your shit. You an obsessed little ex whoring for clicks. I feel bad man, Dont be mad stan. Heres a trash can.. For your diss. I stay living in your head without rent. Gnat, better learn your history.. Kings they get beheaded. "The the Boogeyman cause everybody scared of me". What a dope bar, your such a rarity. Talking like you next up. You been here since 2017 where's the check huh? Your best disses got my name in them, Im a Free copy right? Let me put my claim on it. Every time you tag me ill be monetizing you while you advertise me. And fantasize about my friends. Just know I got here without you. So keep on moving, you just a lame whoes pretending. Use my name for the ascension, but my reigns are too extensive. Stay in your lane, got no engine. You start clenching and your plugged in the rear, with no luck and no career. Whoes scared of this dude. Your times up..
Honestly I wasnt even gonna go after you. But theres certain lines you just dont cross. Tryna target my legitimacy? Going after my friends? Calling out anyone you can to diss me and paying them? Danny theres ways to move in this industry properly. You put your hand out and its gonna get slapped. Get back in your fucking lane.
Free's note: Tank is known for having a pen, hes known for his pen and his bars. Like if your gonna say that he doesnt have it cause it went over your fucking head.. You need to look in the mirror. John I did do a speech with you in 2022. That was before you became a big bitch. Bitch ass fuck with nothing better to do than diss. Go back to dissing your mom, cause thats your only good diss John.

As If It Were Kismet: Prologue
Matt tore through the brush, blind in the dark. He didn’t care where he was going. He only knew he needed to be elsewhere. Far from here.
Behind him a creature howled that shocked his mind. It’s form was cruel and dangerous, though female. Nothing like the young woman she had once been. Nothing but a girl, a small and slight female.
It’s guttural growls and howls only grew closer as Matt tried to pick between seeing where he was going and getting away. The few times he looked he caught sight of the creature behind him. Hopping through the air with a speed that told him he was being toyed with. As if he were a mouse being played with by a cat.
But the reflex in him to run kept him going. His adrenaline going as hard as it could. The tightness and burning in his core tensing and locking up as his legs felt like there were being burned from within while taking on more of a heaviness.
His lungs were starting to betray him as he tried to gulp big breaths of air but only rapid and shallow breaths were all that he could manage. His brain was starting to burn….and then he was falling.
Falling down the side of a hill he saw the creature dart in a spring towards him, imperceivably fast almost. Catching him in mid air it seemed.
Managing to wrap its body around him and cushion his impact against the ground as they rolled. His mind barely took in what was happening during the roll. Only starting to understand what was happening once they were still.
The creature's triple D-cup breasts were unmistakably pressed hard against his back as he laid facing up at the night sky.
For a few seconds the world stilled and the needle light pain hitting the center of his brain took over for the cooking heat his brain had felt. His whole body felt heavy and reluctant to move.
Even if he could have really moved, a dull ache came over his limbs making them feel stilled and trapped as if by immeasurable amounts of sand that had engulfed him.
Slowly the arms holding him started to move. Moving so the creature's hands could start exploring him. Causing Matt to unstoppably let out a pathetic moan that made him go cold inside as hands lifted up his shirt and started to touch his exposed stomach and then his chest.
He would have whimpered so pathetically had he not still been in the depths of terror.
As its hands felt and groped his pecs he tried to situp as if to get away. For his efforts, his reward was a hand around his throat and a collection snarls and growls against his ear. A beastly, guttural voice spat words at him while somehow holding a feminine tone.
“Don’t move….I don’t know if I can calm down…”
Her words were not helped by her moans in his ear and the subsequent kissing of his ear. The flesh of his ear going between her lips as she moaned and seemed to pant. Releasing it and licking the side of his face with a moist warmth. He could feel its spittle, viscous and coating his flesh where the tongue touched. He could smell something in his saliva. Something that subtly entranced him.
Matt went stock still with fear and the confusion of mixed arousal. He barely perceived her right hand traveling lower on his body. A surprised moan and shudder echoed in the night from Matt’s lips as she took ahold of him. Her hand above his pants but still….stimulating him.
A light squeezing and almost probing of her digits kept him aroused and confused within her grasp. Resigning himself to the strange fate, Matt looked up at the stars as his mind tried not to shatter under the strange maelstrom of events and sensation that had started mere minutes ago.
His mind was only more confused as a slight figure, feminine in build, how it seemed to thunk the ground audibly as she landed on her feet out nowhere. Her knees barely bending under the pressure of the landing. Yet dirt was kicked up anyways and some of it onto Matt. Feeling it pepper his shirt and pants as it fell.
The figure, lit only faintly by moonlight, roared some dark tone Matt could only perceive as a demon as her eyes went bright with a crimson light. A light in the darkness that should not have been. “Let him go you bitch.” Was its words following the roar. Spittle escaping its mouth with faint droplets hit Matt's face.
The creature holding him by his throat and crotch seemed to tighten the grasp of both hands as it roared back. “HE IS MINE!”
The figure paused with a moment's hesitation. He was also her quarry. She had felt his fear without him knowing. His confused arousal. His fear. His terror.
And now he laid at the center of a struggle between two monsters. Unsure of who he wanted to win.
As If It Was Kismet Ch. 1
Matthew Berkshire hadn’t seen his mom in two years. Not that he had seen her much over the last six years.
A messy divorce between messy people and mom’s chaotic want for a life in Alaska had been one of the most…upsetting times in life. Setting him up for so much of what had defined his life thus far but then that had really started two years before he ever turned.
His ear buds were basic and simple. A part of cheap five pack, common for his life as he was known to lose little things. Small things. They had a mix of metal and hard rock playing in them. Some classics, some alternative. Whatever made him feel something, anything. Even if it was hate. Anger. Rage. It was better than feeling numb. Not belonging.
The escalator down to his lone bag to go with his lone carry on showed his mom waiting for him. His had a type, that’s for damn sure. Not that it helped him in the genetics department as he was stuck at 5’9” to go along with his mother’s five foot even as his dad stood six foot. Forever leaving him to feel small, to pale, under his dad’s shadow. Did he ever stand a chance?
The guy next to her with the unkempt former seventies porn stache was “Dave.” He’d met him twice when his mother came and visited him in Florida. To his credit the guy didn’t look annoyed. Kind of concerned kind of which made Matthew want to break his frozen look but he was well practiced. Having removed any note of sadness from his face through much…tribulation.
His mother’s look on her face betrayed a hint of worry as the bruises on his face lightly showed up close. Saying his name was his like a distant echo that belonged to someone else.
Dave cut in and pulled out his right headphone. “What the hell bud, they knock you hard enough to hurt hearing? Your mom’s asking how you are doing.”
Matthew pulled out the other bud and grunted an empty “sorry.”
“You still have bruises after two week? What did they do to you?” His mom’s voice was full of worry. Something he hadn’t heard in….too long. Too long to make him feel anything. To ever make him believe there was any sincerity to her words. To not think her voice and mannerisms were an act. An act by someone who…wasn’t really there.
“It’s only fair. I took a nose. Fractured a couple orbital bones. Left one with having to get his jaw wired shut. And one will never walk right again for what I did to his knee cap.” Matthew said it all with a bored and disinterested tone. Perhaps well rehearsed.
“My man, handing out ass kickings, not bothering to take names.” Dave was quick to be the typical man’s man about it. Matthew wasn’t quite done yet. Lifting up his shirt to expose the right side near his kidney. Revealing a nasty scar from a six inch blade. “Luckily they gave me this first so they could rule it all in self-defense. The fuck didn’t get it in more than inch before I ruined his knee cap and then I took the nose of one of the fucks holding me.” Now he chose to smile keeping the well practiced dead look in his eyes.
No retorts. No questions. Just horrified looks on their faces. As he liked. As he preferred. They could hate him. They could be disgusted by him. But by God they would fear him.
“Well the doc did a good job sewing you up.” Dave commented uncomfortably. “Dissolving sutures. Ain’t they grand.” He smiled again and let it abruptly fall off his face and started walking to the carousel for the baggage claim.
Waiting and making small talk with Dave as his mother stood in silence. He was not the little boy she abandoned. The little boy she left with an angry man. While never hitting him. Left him in constant fear till he turned twelve and just didn’t care anymore. Something snapped. Broke. And he didn’t care if he died. Didn’t care if he stole. Didn’t even care if he killed. He just knew not to get caught. Something left over from his grandfather’s wisdom which came to make more and more sense with each passing year of life since that thing inside him broke.
Finally his bag came around and Dave went to try first to grab it but Dave practically leapt ahead of him. “Is that your grandfather’s rucksack bag?” his mother asked in a perplexed voice.
“Figured it’s been around since Viet Nam. So it’d serve me better than any of the worthless stuff they called luggage.” Dave commented after Matthew’s words. “Well hell yeah I still got mine from Desert Storm. You know the first one.” Dave laughed and Matthew eyed him oddly. Be it in the south or whether it was Alaska, country boys are country boys he guessed.
The car ride to the two people’s house, as Matthew thought of them. Was uneventful and full of vistas he imagined metropolitan types wetting themselves over. At most they meant isolation to him. Furtherness from the world as there were no mountains in Florida. And what mountains he had last seen in another state had been when he was eight. Another life, to Matthew it felt like. A life alien to him.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 2
Dave and his mom’s place was some two story type tucked into a tree line far up an elevated point. It was by no means the highest point in the mountain but it certainly felt up there.
Rocks were where the driveway should have been Matthew thought. Grabbing his backpack and rucksack from Dave’s jeep was no hard thing for him. Matthew was in formidable shape for someone his age, maybe even five years older. He had gotten a mix of fairly big shoulders and arms along with the chest to go for it when compared to most kids his age. A side effect of working out at least twice a day. First thing in the morning, some time in the evening, and the school’s gym when had had a good semester in school before he had to leave Florida.
Dave tried to come up and help him but Matthew walked past him towards the house. His mom was not sure what to make of his demeanor. Matthew was not the sweet kind boy he had once been. But she had been gone from his life essentially for a long time.
Ushering him into the house she cracked some joke he did not hear. He was too busy looking about and seeing a mix of old outdated decorating mixed with the strange and odd flair of his mother. Color contrasting against drab and dated. Like brightly painting over an old home that was falling apart he thought.
“Your room is this way Mattie.” His mom brightly intoned.
Without expressing any interest he followed his mother. Still faced and nonplussed. Just going along with the current. Pushed and pulled with its roll like a piece of driftwood.
The room was simple. A single small bed. A set of rubber weights with a curl bar and barbells. “Your dad said you were into weight lifting so we got you a bunch of stuff. Dave says it looks like his department’s gym almost. The woman’s smile felt very alien to him.
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ve got most of my stuff from home.” Matthew starting unpacking his rucksack and pulled out cables of repetitive and mixed colors. A single plastic barbell handle. The ruck sack could be filled with water bottles for added weight during pushups he figured. Remembering a Michael Keaton movie he watched with his dad post-Batman movies where he played a convicted killer using plastic bags filled with water for weights.
Matthew caught movement outside his lone fairly large window that could let him step out onto the roof of the house given its layout.
He saw a number of people running together through what he guessed was the backyard of the property, not that it had any fences to mark boundaries
They wore clothes that looked similar yet different from each other at the same time.”Oh those are the Johnston’s. Really nice bunch of people. Been on the mountain for a long time Dave tells me.”
Matthew looked at the group of people running and noticed the lack of resemblance. “They are related?” Matthew quizzically asked. Seeing a black and possibly a hispanic person amongst the bland looking white people.
“Oh well they are all adopted but for one or two of them…besides the parents of course. The family has a long tradition of taking in orphans they say. Real nice of them to do that don’t you think.”
Matthew looked at his mother and the hosier accent made no sense to him as he arched his left eye brow. Her and his dad were both from Florida. Born and raised. Sure her parents were from New York city but…
Matthew shook his lightly without turning to look at his mother as his vision was grabbed by one of the runners in particular. A girl of moderate height. Soft brunette. A plain beauty he figured with a slim build….and lack of remarkable breasts and rear to make any note of but….girls in general were his type at his age.
She was pretty enough. He couldn’t deny that but he found himself transfixed by her visage.
But the way she turned and looked at him, especially at that distance felt very disconcerting to him. Even if she was smiling like…she was a taste of a bright shiny day. Somehow.
Matthew’s mom noticed the exchange and smiled to herself with closed lips. “Oh that’s Vicky. She’s your age I think. Very sweet girl, who does the charity functions. You know bake sales, blood drives, car washes and the like. I think you should get to know her. Might be good for you.”
A truck horn sounded a couple of beeps in rather succession. “Oh that must be Mack, he said he might come by later this evening but he seems early.”
Matthew’s mother turned and left his room. Leaving Matthew to exchange a few looks with the alluring Vicky as she turned her head away from him to talk to the others in her group and look back at him.
Still Matthew’s left eyebrow was arched. In a way that reminded him of Spock from Star Trek that he and his grandpa used to watch on some streaming service or another.
As he heard ambient chatter elsewhere outside the house he figured to check it out as the alluring sight of Vicky would be around he figured. It was dull to stare at artwork. He was a boy who preferred jet skis and the like. Something he could ride and enjoy immensely. Even if at times it got him stabbed.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 3
Matthew sauntered out of the house and down the rockway that stood in for a driveway.
A few new people had come over from what he could first surmise of the situation. As he got closer it was obvious they were indigenous people. A couple of grown men…and a girl?
She was mousey. Maybe five foot. Hiding behind glasses and a big camo jacket that was far too big for her. It looked made for a grown man and the backwards trucker hat on her head kept her long black a beautiful mess of sorts.
She was cute in a way. A little androgynous but she had a cute energy to her. She reminded him of the more tomboyish Puerto Rican girls he had gotten into back in Florida. Given the deer corpses in the back of the truck….probably more dangerous to play with given the men in her family.
Small chatter passed between the adults when the girl noticed but turned away, trying to hide the tiny hint of a smile.
“Oh Mattie, this is Mack. He works with Dave at the sheriff’s department and John, he’s with fish and wildlife.” Matthew nodded at his mom’s words with some blankness as he looked at the deer the in the back of the pickup truck.
“Gale tells us you hunted with your dad some in Florida and Georgia.” Mack offered with a light hearted laugh camouflaged by his big simple and cheery but husky way he spoke.
Looking in the back of the truck he spoke. “We used lever action thirty-thirties and Mosin Nagants in seven-six-two-fifty-four-rimmed.” Mack and John whistled in an exaggerated fashion. Leaving Matthew to wonder if they were mocking him.
Mack spoke. “Well we just used thirty-odd-six in a custom gussied Garand.” That caught Matthew’s attention. “You have a Garand…” Matthew finally demonstrated interest in anything. “My dad has an SVT-40 and a Hakim 8mm but he always wanted a Garand but was too cheap to buy one.”
Gale, his mother, chimed in loudly. “Oh his Dad loved his guns but was such an odd duck about how he bought or why he bought them. Never made sense to me how he wasn’t a collector but he didn’t get the latest and greatest.” Gale laughed uncomfortably. At least it seemed that way to Matthew.
Matthew pointed to the girl with an underhanded pointing hand. “And who is this? A cute little mute mouse or does she have a name?” Dave and the other men laughed.
Mack again spoke. “Well you people call her Rebecca, she’s my adopted daughter.” Matthew was taken aback by what he heard. “You people?”
Rebecca kindly spoke with a soft but almost melodic voice as she struggled to maintain eye contact. “White people or rather not members of our tribe. It’s just easier to appease the colonizer kind of thing. Borrowed from when the Jesuit missionaries chased us up here.”
Mack stepped in. “It’s just easier to have white people names than have them try to say our tribal names. And we don’t want them shortening or Anglicising our names kind of thing.” Rebecca stepped back into the conversation cutting off her adopted father. “It’s an insult to our history basically.”
Matthew cocked his head sideways raising his eyebrows shortly before letting them drop. “Well as soon as I’m eighteen I’m out of here and back to Florida so I’m a sort of involuntary colonizer of sorts. So I won’t be taking any of your land from you. The Seminoles on the other hand are still shit out of luck.”
Rebecca’s smile caused Matthew to reflexively smile. Mack made the moment more awkward. “See Becca, I told you someone off the reservation would like you some. You just have to be creative.” Mack laughed in a chiding manner…Matthew presumed. He sensed that he was the butt of some kind of cultural joke. Like marrying a white guy was some sort of insult or mark of shame. That kind of thing.
Rebecca turning away from him was not something he had been expecting. Her then getting in the truck in a huff left the group in a silence for a moment.
Dave spoke to break the awkward silence. “Well just bring the truck to work on Monday and leave it for me to grab up.” Mack acknowledged Dave and they started to get off as Rebecca looked at Matthew for another instance. Matthew couldn’t look away for some reason as the two seemed to lock eyes for an instance.
Till Vicky and family seemed to come jogging down the road. While Matthew’s eyes diverted from Rebecca’s. Hers did not till she realized he was looking elsewhere. And her vision found Vicky and what had been a hint of smile on her face turned glum and disappointed.
Matthew did not look away from the vision of Vicky but instead of a starry eyed fool looking longingly. It was a baffled look. Well baffled for him, with his eyes drawn narrow and night with a focus.
There was something about her…he couldn’t quite put a name too. The way she appeared to him. One second brunette. The next second blonde or blonde like. As if the color appeared in her air and disappeared in fractions of seconds. Much the same way her body almost seemed to…shift…very subtly…smoothly. A nicer bum. Larger breasts. And then back to a simple and plain form. Feminine no doubt. Attractive. But not so…remarkable.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 4
The next two days passed without incident. Nothing of any real substance or challenge to note.
Matthew got settled somewhat and started working out almost immediately. Exploring around the woods but Dave told him not to go far. Especially without a hunting rifle. Dave had left a simple semi-auto Winchester out for him. His bear gun as Dave referred to it with its four round magazine. But Matt figured till he got some practice with the rifle to leave it alone. He made a hiking stick like his grandpa taught him and treated it over a low fire. He would take some electrical tape for the end his hand would grip around. Plenty enough to ward off anything smaller than a bear he figured.
The ride to school was a pain in the neck but simple enough. Dave would let him use a clunker pickup truck he had laying around. It wasn’t pretty but it would get him to and from. Even if it was from the eighties and still backfired on occasion. But for now Dave and his mom took him on their way to the sheriff’s department.
It wasn’t much of a school. It wanted to be modern but its fifties original construction was very obvious. It serviced the pipeline families and familys’ of fisherman who worked the seasons in between their time at the pipeline.
Matt was to report to the principal for some reason Dave and his mom wouldn’t share. Which annoyed him but he figured it was to read him the law of land. Small towns with their big views of the outside world and like.
Dressed in jeans, a grey sweatshirt under a light jacket with steel toed boots set him more apart then he expected. His buzzed head didn’t help matters. Already he was feeling like a stranger in a strange land but he was quite strange after all. And he liked it that way. Normal people were so pathetically disappointing to him.
A secretary or assistant or some such led him to the principal’s office. Where it reeked of real wood that was old and fabric and upholstery that needed to be updated for the last twenty years, Matt figured.
“This is Matthew Berkshire, Principal Andrews.” The man was turned with his back to the door and he was quick to wave her off as he turned her around.
He was an older man. Fat and large. Tall with a body built like he had once been fit and a demeanour of annoyed and irate already as he fixed Matt with a scowl and look of disgust. Another worthless government whore. Matt thought to himself. His father and his grandfather had bestowed unto him a natural disrespect for government workers and the figures that wore unjustified authority as a shield but pretended the weight of the state was not at their back ready to crush all who resisted. Little figures of valor pretending to be mighty and alone but acting with the tyranny of the state and all the backing.
“Mr. Berkshire, please sit down.” His tone wasn’t unusually hostile, just gruff. As if he had better things to do.
Matt complied and took a seat in the chair while maintaining a friendly facade. Not everyone was an enemy. And not everyone needed to be an enemy. Even if anybody could be any enemy. There was no reason to make enemies you didn’t have to. Another of his grandfather’s bastardised wisdoms.
“Well I looked over you file and you have quite the history Mr. Berkshire.” Matt resisted qiuping back a joke. Instead he waited for Principal Andrews to continue as he remained nonplussed and looking as if he felt no need to respond. A simple head tilt with dead eyes looking back at the principle as if he was not even there would suffice.
Matt’s reaction or lack of a reaction rather made Principal Andrews only narrow his eyes with examination. He was not used to a kid not responding to him. Especially with his gruff and hard act going on.
“Well by all accounts you moved here after some problems at your last school. A fight broke out and you did some real harm to your fellow students it appears.” Of course, he would take the side of the perpetrators. School administrators always did. Especially when they weren’t white. Just a fact of the times. Cowardice and pathetic mediocrity was the way they leaned, like good government workers sucking the dick of Big Daddy government. Worthless whores.
Matt chose to reply. “Oh you mean the criminals that stabbed me. Got arrested at the hospital and then pled to felonies. Yeah Florida, with the American counties are good like that.” Principal Andrews went real still. No shame. No fear. No penitence. He didn’t like that.
“Well be it as it may Mr. Berkshire we don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour here…” Matt cut him off responding with a deadpan tone. “You mean self-defense meant to save one’s own life while the cowardly and pathetic school workers look on with zero interest but to keep their money rolling in and will allow known gang members with records of violent acts and crimes that should have them expelled many times over, where in certain Democrat counties such cowardice and idiocy empowered a couple school shooters?”
Principal Andrews looked at the Matt with a note of disgust. “Look here Mr. Berkshire, your beliefs matter not one bit here. This isn’t Florida. We don’t like our way of life being disrupted by outside agitators who have problems with authority.”
Matt did his best not to roll his eyes and let the older fat man drone own as he dead-stared him. Lifeless and without emotion.
The man came to a finish and Matt spoke up without having listened to him or paid him any attention. “Great now that’s taken care of. Can I please get to class and finish my sentence of two years at your wonderful school?”
Principal Andrews huffed and snorted before calling in Vicky. Vicky stood in the corner after entering with a quiet and seamless presence. Matt felt disturbed and tried not betray his feelings as the young Vicky was perceived and not perceived to be moving.
Principal Andrews made the introductions and Matt nodded back. She was to be his chaperone for the day. They had the same classes and she was to show him the ropes so to speak. The ins and outs of the school. The locations of their classes.
He recognized her. It was hard not to. The way her appearance seemed to shift fluidly almost. The petite and skinny brunette ever so lightly had a big bust and blonde hair with curves added when she seemed to shift before his eyes. Like watching a film but each frame had a different person.
Matt didn’t say anything about it. Even if he did he would only be acknowledging his crazed state, if he had one. If.
Unlike an obedient puppy dog he got up in a slow and awkward fashion and followed behind her as his oddly disproportionate frame allowed. Causing her a note of concern for some reason. As if she was seeing something she shouldn’t have been….Or he was just weird. And Matt could admit to himself he was just weird. Part of his charm, he would jest about it at times. Not that he had many people to jest to now.
As If It Were Kismet Ch. 5
Following Vicky into the hall off to their first class was simple. She exchanged small talk and he slightly smiled as if to obviously suggest he was just being polite.
Inside his head, Matt was trying to figure out if he was having a psychotic break. The way Vicky looked kept changing and he looked at the other people around him and they stayed the same.
He was searching his mind as they were walking. And thus he wasn’t paying attention to where he was looking and so fell to his face forward over his feet seemingly out of nowhere.
A series of laughs erupted as it sunk in that he was obviously tripped. Like in prison this was a challenge to his superiority. If he let this pass he would be mocked and sneered at by this same group of boys. He wouldn’t walk to them like he was going to do nothing like a little bitch.
In a rage he turned and punched the stomach of the first face he saw. Some typical blonde haired wannabe jock. He knew from experience not to aim for the ribs. Instead he needed to aim for where he thought the belly button was.
Yells and screams blindly echoed around him as his after the punch he followed up his elbow of the opposite arm slamming into the face of the jock. Harder than a fist, the elbow struck the jock’s jaw and seemingly dropped him against a locker. Just in time to catch an errant and soft punch to the nose that sure enough hurt but did little to slow him down as his dad had taught him to fight through the pain. Blood and scars happened. They were a natural consequence of life to a man.
Taking the punch and falling further into his red state Matt headbutted the punch thrower before another guy arm bared his throat from behind. Which he managed to get his grip on the arm over a letterman jacked and jerk the unprepared boy to the side with him still latched on.
A few feet away from the lockers Matt knew his only chance was to jump and push off the lockers and knock the boy to the ground and so he did. He heard a thunk of the boy’s skull bouncing off the ground and he turned to pull out of the grapple.
The beatings he had taken from his father, the grapples, being choked unconscious. Had prepared him for fighting little bitches who didn’t know what a fight was. It wasn’t gay porn with rabbit punch fists flying.
Blood was running down his face and the pain started to hit him as the threats had been eliminated. Only then did he remember to breathe. Taking breathes as Vicky came up to him with tissues and took a hold of his nose.
“Owww owww owww what the fuck my nose could be broken.” He said to Vicky as she pulled his head up and back.
“It’s ok Carl. It’s done.” Matt tried to look to see who Vicky was talking to. It was a boy taller than his 5’9” by more than a small margin. The boy eyed him bored and annoyed before speaking. “What happened here?” An unoriginal line but one Matt couldn’t be a smart aleck about. “Well you see there was an outbreak of tripping and we all tripped over my dick. It happens.” Matt was about to laugh when Vicky seemed to pull up while still gripping his nose causing Matt no small amount of pain which he audibly evidenced.
Vicky spoke in a tone he wasn’t expecting. As if she was accustomed to issuing orders. “Keep Iris away from the hall till we sanitize the site. We have blood from at least three people contaminating the site. And have Jake bring me a spare jacket and shirt for this moron.”
Carl seemed to acknowledge her orders and seemed to blink away. Maybe the punch hit harder than he expected. He had no time to wonder as Vick took her hand away from his and pushed him against the lockers. With ease he had not been expecting from her form and stature.
Before he could respond Vicky licked his blood covered chin and then his lips and spoke to him. “Focus on me you little blood bag.” Her tone had an annoyed yet feminine sneer.
“Look into my eyes. Look at me. You belong to me. You are just another food source in a collection of food sources.” Her eyes were a beautiful hazel Matt thought. Almost green. Pretty like jewels in some old treasure collections. The eyes he could get lost in before kissing her. Finally Vicky was just a slight and petite brunette and he thought she was beautiful.
She would make a hell of a girlfriend. Some cute thing he could see laying on the beach in Florida on their sides laughing and smiling before trading light kisses while hands wandered innocently. Before his mind could drift further he felt her lips on his. It took him a second to mentally grasp the kiss but his arms were around her back as her hands were at his sides. His eyes reflexively closed as he saw hers close.
It was ineffable to Matt. Beyond words, what was happening. The kiss, the moments beforehand. The way his brain tickled with electricity and gentle warmth. He had never had a kiss like this and he had traded more than a few kisses with at least a few girls.
The kiss was like a warm bath with his consciousness slipping beneath the surface. Their lips only parted to try new angles and approaches as Matt struggled to take in breath. It was a moment he could have stayed trapped in for….he didn’t know. But a curt throat clearing by another girl pulled them out of the moment.
The girl was taller than Vicky. Blonde. With slight curves. Vicky addressed her bewildered and gobsmacked, and perhaps a bit embarrassed. “Tina?”

Look, I get it. Losing a job sucks. But what sucks even more is seeing people who have lost their job holding out for some mythical perfect position that doesn't exist, especially when they should be focusing on getting back on their feet.
Let's get one thing straight: if you've lost your job, you no longer have the luxury of being picky. You lose the right to be picky, forever. Good pay, remote work, work-life balance, respect from your boss – these are things you can aspire to, sure, but they're not entitlements, especially not when you're out of work.
When you're unemployed, you need to be prepared to swallow your pride and take whatever job comes your way. And I mean whatever. That means longer hours, less pay, and probably way less respect than you're used to. And forget about remote work – you're going to be working onsite, every day, from now on.
And here's another reality check: when you take a job, even if it's out of desperation, you're committing to it. You don't get to just take a job temporarily until something better comes along - that's unethical. You're choosing your "forever job," whether you like it or not.
Sure, it might not be your dream job, but tough luck. Fair or not, you are the one who lost your job, and that has lifelong consequences. You're making a decision based on the best information you have at the time, and they are going to make business decisions based on your acceptance. You don't get to just bail because you find something better that pays you better or respects you a few months or years down the line.
Oh, and one more thing: when you're unemployed, you're a risky hire. Employers are taking a chance on you, and that deserves some damn loyalty.
So stop holding out for the unicorn job. Get out there, find something that pays the bills, and start rebuilding your career from the ground up. As things stand right now, at this moment, your career is over - and you will likely have to start over at the very bottom. It might not be glamorous, but it's better than sitting around waiting for something that's never going to come.

i noticed as we flew through the sky, on our way to regroup with Lobelia's group, that in this dragon form drew in energy as i flew, maybe in a way to maintain the form, this was too new for me to know at this time. it didn't take long to reach the spot to regroup with Lobelia, but when we arrived, we didn't see anyone around the area. i decided to come in for a landing, since i figured we might have arrived a bit early and i didn't want to cause a panic in this form in case someone else came along. as i was landing, i suddenly felt a rumbling through the ground, questioning if this was a quake or something else. it didn't take long to get my answer since a mere moment later we saw a huge explosion off in the distance. i had an uneasy feeling about this, as i turned my head to look at Clint, Bruno, and Vince, whom all had the same feeling. with no words exchanged, i took back to the sky and headed in the direction of the explosion, hoping that this wouldn't be a repeat of my village. while we were still approaching the area, we saw a green light fired into the air roughly where we were heading. Clint yelled out to me, letting me know that was a distress flare the elf group used during their share travels following me to Dragonus. i started to pick up speed, as the group tighten their grips, to try to get to them sooner. when we arrived over head, we looked down on a field full of beasts, monsters, and demons. what once was an unknown future has finally come to a head and we had no other choice but to engage the enemies.
as we flew over the battlefield, i started to fire off different elemental dragon blasts to thin out the enemy groupings and help find where Lobelia's group was exactly located. they fired off another distress flare spell, allowing me to lock on to their location, at which time Clint's group heard me speak for the first time in this form. "do you trust me?", to which they each nodded, "then release your grip and follow me", to with they did. at this moment, i released the dragon form, sending us all into a free fall toward the ground. Vince started to cast every buff he could think of as we fell on the party, while Bruno, Clint, and i drew our weapons for battle. i focus energy into one of my hands and with a swing of my arm, i enveloped the group in wind barriers. just before we were about to make impact, i went into a drive-bomb stance, while charging as many elements as i could into my weapon. upon impact, my weapon blew apart, unleashing the elements and weapon fragments through the area, causing massive explosions, wiping out hundreds of enemies at once. Clint, Bruno, and Vince came in a mere moment later, causing shock waves around the area, sending enemies flying. i quickly pulled out two swords to duel-wield, has we started to fight our way through the hoards of enemies, making our way over to Lobelia's group. Clint's group went to fortify Lobelia's group, while i continued to thin the ranks in front of us, unleashing everything i learned during my training. Vince and a few of the elves cast various team buff abilities on me, as the others aided from behind, guessing worried that one of my new skills might catch them by accident. Lobelia took advantage of some strong winds approaching and caused the wind to form a few tornadoes on the battlefield with air magic. something inside told me what i should do, almost as if by memory, i combined together ground and fire elements and slammed the spell into the ground toward one of the tornadoes. followed by shooting off water and ice spells into another, then finishing by firing off a lightning dragon blast down the center of the field, taking out numerous enemies before hit another one of the tornadoes. the ground started to rumble as it split open and lava strayed out, heading toward the first tornadoes, opening a volcanic eruption underneath, forming a magma twister. the water and ice struck the next one, forming high speed ice tornado. the lightning hit another one, whipping it around until it became a voltaic twister. these three ripped through the battlefield, wiping out hoards of enemies by the second, until all three smashed together causing a huge explosion over the entire battlefield. we all quickly took cover, as everything came raining down, wiping everything out. as the dust started to settle, we all regrouped, everyone absolutely stunned by what just happened. when we could finally see the field again, we saw that there was still someone standing out in the middle of the battlefield. the lone survivor yelled out at us "you'll have to do better then that to kill me", just then realizing, he seemed to be a high ranked demon.
the demon stood there, staring us down, waiting for one of us to make a move. we debilitated if we should spread the group back out some, so that we wouldn't be seen as a single target for the demon. i told the group that i would go in for the attack to hold his attention and they should provide back up and support when they saw an opening. i stepped forward out of the group and started to walk toward the demon, as it started to smirk back at me. after i got enough distance between me and the group, i did a quick flap of my wings to shoot myself forward at the demon and start the battle. the demon readied for contact, as a mere moment later we made first contact of battle. in a flash the battle begin with us blasting around the battlefield, firing off attacks and spells nearly faster then the eye can see. everyone else took any small opportunity they saw to try and aid with buffs, spells, and attacks. the demon seemed annoyed by the interference to our battle and start to fire off attacks back at the others any chance he got. this battle continued as a stalemate for half a day, which the demon took any opportunity when we locked in a clash to taunt me. it would says things each time such as "this world is already going to be destroyed", "you all don't stand a chance", "you really think you can save them", and more of the like. it wouldn't be long before the demon started to put it's words into action, as a few of the elves shot off infused arrows at it when they saw an opening, just for the demon to catch them mid flight and redirect the arrows back at them, sending the arrows straight through their skulls and killing half the elves in Lobelia's group. this threw the groups into a panic, which caused them to act rashly in an attempt to take out the demon. Lobelia and Vince stayed back casting buffs and heals on the remaining people, while the remaining few elves, Clint and Bruno jumped into the battle in an attempt to end this. before i could stop them, they charged in for the attack and i needed to try my best to stop the demon from getting them as well. the battle intensified as we attacked from all sides in an attempt to overwhelm the demon and hopefully turn the fight in our favor. it seemed to be working as we seemed to be slowly damaging it, that is until i realized my attacks were the only few that actually doing damage. the demon suddenly smirked again and i quickly yelled out for them to get back, but by this point it was too late. as Clint went in for a swift strike, the demon caught his sword arm, ripping it out at the shoulder socket, and plunging his sword through his head. the few elves followed shortly after when the demon ripped one in half while skewering two more with it's tail, before smashing another's head in with a headbutt and the last one being sent flying with a kick to the chest and splattering on the ground upon impact. i had already moved in to try and stop him, but kept getting knocked back, as it's focus was on the other people here. Bruno went in for an attack as the demon was dealing with me and managed to chop off one of it's wings before it turned around and grabbed Bruno by the neck. before i could stop it, the demon plunged it's other hand straight through Bruno's armor and chest, ripping his heart out. before tossing Bruno's body aside, the demon took the sword from Bruno's hands and threw it in a spinning motion toward Vince, slicing him in two. before it could do anything to Lobelia, i fired off a full elemental dragon breath, blasting a giant hole through the demon. as i stood over the demon, readying to kill him, i asked if he had anything to say before i ended him. the ground started to rumble and quack as he said to us, "you fools, it's already too late, i was but a distraction. your world falls now!". i chopped off it's head as we hear explosions in the distance and the ground starts in split open and crumble. after all that had happened, everything we went through, and losing all but me and Lobelia, was this truly the end for us?