As much as I enjoy Generator Rex I have often wondered if there are any fanfics that addresses one or more of the following flaws/plot holes:

• The use of EVOS as a mutant metaphor. As much as I dislike Hunter Caine bigotry, people's fears about EVOs seem pretty well founded given their aggressive behavior and their tendency to attack humans and rampage through towns/cities. With the exception of the Night Falls episode (a subtle commentary on humane confinement), I never quite understood the show's attempts to use EVOs as metaphor for disadvantaged people or in Green Fist's case as wild/endangered animals who deserve to roam free in their habitat.
• Rex/Circe's relationship. As I have said before I have never quite understood people's fascination with Dating Catwoman romances. Such relationships are unhealthy, unprofessional, and unsustainable. And frankly I never understood Rex's attraction to Circe given her lack of concern for the lives of innocent people.
• The reveal that Providence was being privately funded by the Consortium rather than being publicly funded by the UN, the WHO, the USA, EU, etc. I never quite understood the whole deal with the Consortium being the ones to run the organization. I mean given that EVOs were a global issue you would think that the world governments and organizations would put more funding and oversight over the organization designed to deal with them. What's more baffling is that not once in its 6-7 years of its existence have people questioned where Providence got its money from or who White Knight really answered to.
• I know this is a work of fiction, but I was never a big fan of the main characters do everything trope. I never understood why Providence would send Rex on assignments that seem to be a waste of his abilities, or ones he seems inadequately prepared for. I mean it doesn't make sense why Providence would want to endanger their number one weapon against EVOS (Ex: The Forgotten, Lost Weekend, Outpost).
• How did Van Kleiss reactivate his nanites and uncure himself? -Pretty self-explanatory. I mean not once is any explanation given on how Van Kleiss managed to come back as powerful as ever.
• Who are the "Before" No Face keeps talking about?
• Breach, Biowulf, and Jungle Cat's backstories. - Who were they before they became EVOs and how did they come to work for Van Kleiss?
• In my opinion I think Rex's old gang could have been more useful as Providence agents and helping out in the War against EVOs instead of hanging around Hong Kong doing nothing.
• In fact I think that the following characters: Kenwyn Jones, Noah, Beverly Holiday (post-cure), Fives, ZAG-RS, and Abuela all got a raw deal and they deserve an expanded role in the story. For example, Kenwyn Jones could serve as the Gwen to Rex's Ben to try and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. And Noah should have gotten more combat training to help Rex out in the field instead of being demoted to extra from Season 2 onwards.
• And speaking of ZAG-RS, it is never fully addressed on what happened to her. Does she play a role in Cesar's reactivated Nanite Project? Is she deactivated for good?
• On top of that why didn't Rex investigate whether or not Cesar really did cause the nanite event after the events of Written in the Sand?
• Give the Providence soldiers a level in badass. - I mean I know these guys were written as redshirts but you would think that after all that training, they could do a better job at handling EVOs. Heck they can't even handle a couple of desert bandits.

Hello, I'm looking to buy a house and I got the below from the inspection company that my realtor is reocmmending. This is the second home I've bought and the first home it was much more straight forward as it was a slightly newer build and was a townhouse. Which of the below options make sense given the house details below:
Home Details:
Located in Albany, OR

Type & style

• Home type: Single Family
• Property subType: Single Family Residence

Bedrooms & bathrooms

• Bedrooms: 3
• Bathrooms: 2
• Full bathrooms: 2
• Main level bathrooms: 2

Material information

• Construction materials: Composite, Lap Siding
• Foundation: Continuous
• Roof: Composition

Condition

• New construction: No
• Year built: 1979

Flooring

• Flooring: Carpet

Heating

• Heating features: Natural Gas, Forced Air

Cooling

• Cooling features: Central Air

Other construction

• Warranty included: Yes

"Well-maintained with new roof & triple-paned windows. Tastefully updated with LVP flooring in kitchen, dining, hall and bath, new carpets in bedrooms, new kitchen lighting, new appliances, dishwasher, refrigerator, microwave and water heater."
\***Seller did disclose owner prior to them had electrical fire damage**\**
The house is very well maintained and looks like whoever has been living there the last 10 years has taken a lot of effort to ensure the place is practically spotless for a house built in 1979
BELOW ARE THE OPTIONS FROM THE INSPECTION COMPANY
The Premium Package
The Premium Package is our most popular choice, the most thorough inspection, and the best value for your dollar. This inspection includes a checklist that will encompass the entire home inspection process (i.e. structure and foundation; a representative sample of windows, doors, lights, and receptacles; moisture detection; attic and crawlspace areas; roof, gutters, and drainage; walls, floors, and ceilings; porches and decks; plumbing systems and fixtures in kitchens, baths, and laundries; electrical sytems and breaker panels; HVAC; built-in appliances; and a general check for wood destroying organisms*). Everything is compiled for you on-site so that when we are done, you have all the information provided in a printed report which is computer-generated with color photos and presented to you in a professional binder. Inside the binder, you will find a seasonal maintenance checklist, a cost guide for remodeling and repairs, and a filing system to keep track of receipts. Since Pillar To Post is the largest home inspection company in North America, we have alliances with many vendors on services you may need as a homeowner. In addition, we use infrared technology that allows us to check the electrical system to detect overheating circuit wires and breakers and for any hidden water leaks that would not normally be seen by the naked eye. Also included is a Rodent Inspection, Visual Summary with Measured Floor Plans, and a Centriq Report.
Infrared Scan - Using the most technologically advanced tools available allows us to detect moisture in wet areas of the home (i.e. kitchens and bathrooms and around windows and doors) that is invisible to the human eye. The use of these tools also enables us to locate areas throughout the home or structure that have overheating or malfunctioning electrical components (i.e. breakers and electrical panels). This work can make a critical difference during the home inspection process.
Centriq Report - During your inspection, we will capture the information of up to five major home appliances and provide you with a computerized report on any safety recalls for those appliances using the Centriq app. Centriq is a home inventory and maintenance platform designed to monitor for appliance recalls and track user manuals, parts, and support videos for your home. During the inspection, the inspector will add appliances and systems from the home into the Centriq app, and you will receive a Centriq recall report via e-mail within 48 hours. You will also have the option of adding items to the app in the future.
Rodent Inspection - In addition to our high quality, comprehensive home inspection which will highlight past or present infestation, we will also investigate and report on conditions in the home that are conducive to rodent activity so that you may be pre-emptive in the containment and control of these potential issues before a problem occurs. This includes checking for points of entry and signs of nesting, especially in the crawlspace of the home.
PTP360 - During our inspection, we will construct an interactive virtual tour that will provide you with 360° visuals of your future home. It will include thumbnails with comments and photos from your inspection report in relation to their location within the home. This feature also includes measured floor plans to aid you in any future projects or home planning.
Lifetime Maintenance Advisory Service - Following our inspection, and your purchase of the home, we will provide advice and answer your questions on home maintenance, the inspection report, and other home-related topics for as long as you own the home. Feel free to give us a call anytime! We are happy to continue our service to you.
Enhanced Customer Service Commitment - Our aim is to provide you with quality reporting and excellent customer care. Our office staff are available to direct your questions and concerns should the occasion arise, and our inspectors have a wealth of knowledge and expertise to assist you with all of your inspection needs. If you are not satisfied with our service, we will pay another inspection company of your choice to inspect your home again up to the value of your investment with our company.
*During each of our inspections, we do a general check for Wood Destroying Organisms (i.e. carpenter ants, termites, and wood-boring beetles) as well as evidence of dry rot. We do not, however, list the specific insects observed without the purchase of a WDO report. This is due to Oregon's home inspection laws regarding the reporting of Pest & Dry Rot information, sometimes required by lenders. If you do not need your report to specifically state which insects are or are not observed at the time of inspection, you may not need to add the WDO report to your inspection package. Please check with your loan officer before considering this add-on option and let us know if we can provide you with any further clarification.
The cost of this package is $ 742.35 You will also receive a 15% discount on any Added Service options.

The Prestige Package
This package provides you with additional peace of mind. It includes everything that comes with the Premium Package, as well as an air-mold anaylsis and a screen of the home for common allergens (i.e. cat, dog, cockroach, and dust mites), benefiting those who suffer from allergies, asthma, or immune deficiencies. It uses the most up-to-date technology to determine potential health risks in those areas and recommendations for further action.
Healthy Home Package - Houses safeguard the lives of the people who live in them. Increasingly so, it is known that poor air quality, including allergens, can pose potential health risks if not detected and addressed. Indeed, if someone in your home suffers from allergies, asthma, chronic sinus issues, or other breathing disorders, poor air quality becomes critical to their love and enjoyment of the home. In addition, mold can eventually cause structural damage to your home.
The Pillar To Post Healthy Home Package provides: -An air quality sampling to test for molds and allergens that may be present in the home, identified and verified through a certified third-party laboratory analysis. -An easy-to-read report that helps you understand what was found and a recommended course of action to follow. -The knowledge of what you need to do to protect your investment and, at the same time, make your home a healthier place for you and your family to live.
Please keep in mind that the results of the mold and allergen tests take 5-7 business days to get back to us. We will provide you with those reports as soon as they are available.
The cost of the healthy home package is $ 1388.75 You would also get a 30% discount of any Added Service options.

The Plus Package
This package is our third offering and the most basic whole house inspection we provide. It is just like the Premium inspection but without the extras(Infrared Technology, Rodent Inspection, Visual Summary with Measured Floor Plans, and Centriq Report).
Selecting this package does not provide any discounts on various Added Service options. The cost of this package is $ 505.00

Recommended Added Service options for your inspection:
Sewer Scoping : $195.00
Radon Testing : $195.00
Wood Destroying Organisms : $80.00

I live in ID, Im a young M in my 20's, I have only ever had one ticket in my whole life and Im almost 30, last month I got into my first car accident ever, and for anyone who lives in ID you probably know the weather is crazy, we get all four seasons, but it could be warm and out of nowhere pouring rain or hail. Edit* it was pouring rain that day. Well, unfortunately I got into my first car accident, where the car in front of my was following too close and break checked where I was going the speed limit and had to pump breaks quick, and the front of my car hit the back of his car, and mind you I have a very clean record, with nothing but one speeding ticket ever. Well we exchange insurance cards, and the police officer gives me a misdemeanor, then moves on to tell me that if I go to court and plead not guilty (which I was going to do anyways) that it could get dropped down to an infraction, this surprised me and a lot of my friends, because shouldn't have it been an infraction anyways? Further I dont make a lot of money, and when I talked tot he flirt she said, I could apply for a public defender or during the hearing I'd be appointed one. Where this gets really tricky is this month, Im driving with my mom and at a stop light we get hit in the back, of the car and the guy that hit us even admitted to it being reckless on his end in broad sunny day light, and the cop that came after an hour of waiting, told us to handle it on our own, before my mom had to push to get a police report for the car insurance, and on top of that the guy that hit us didn't even get a citation even after he admitted that it was his fault (he was a old white man) this makes me feel like cops here are super biased. I dont like to use the race card, but this just doesn't make sense. I've never been to court either so I want to know how to go about this because I am a colored male, and feel like the legal system is just against you in every way.

Hello all,
First to provide my system. I have a 4070 with an AMD 7600x with 32gb ddr5 ram. Brand new build, runs every game like a charm at max FPS my screen can take.
With this game, I can barely get over 60 in game at the highest, normally sits at 15-30 but sometimes lower, and while in the menus get around 17fps. Task manager shows 30% CPU usage but 100% GPU usuage. I noticed when the FPS tank to really low, the usuage goes from 100% down to around 80%, which makes no sense
What I have done to remedy so far -
Nvidia 3D settings - limited FPS to 20 below my monitors ability,
Lowered mouse report rate to 500 from 1000
Reinstalled both the game and the launcher
brand new mobo and gpu so those drivers are all up to date
updated the IDE driver to Standard
set to open as administrator
have benchmarked my pc and it passes with flying colors
have ingame set to correct resolution for my monitor also running medium settings, no vsync enabled
Nvidia driver is up to date
Any suggestions? It is literally just this game that has issues on my PC.

Hey there, I hope this meets the community standards, it's not directly FastLED related, but this might be the right group of people to bounce the idea off of! If this gets me on the right track of "this is the right library to use" and/or a bunch of people saying "you're in way over your head", that's more than enough!
I'm a programmer by trade, but I've never done anything with an arduino or LEDs. So this will be an absurdly over-scoped first foray into the hobby.
I have an idea for a wearable LED costume I'd like to bring to burning man this year (So I have until the end of August to build it!)
A simplified example - lets put an addressable LED on my head, each hand, one on the waist, and each foot. With me?
I'd then use a collection of accelerometers paired with those LED locations to measure their movement.
Already, we can do fun stuff like change color of each LED based on its speed.
Next, I want a button.
Clicking the button zeroes the current location of each of the accelerometers in memory. We'll call this location the datum.
Now I can calculate the distance each sensor has moved from the datum, and build this effect I am imagining that as I move further away from the datum, the LEDs change colors or fade out or something.
With me so far?
Now the more complicated example --
instead of only on addressable LED for each hand, foot, waist, and on my head, they are LED strips lining the outfit.
I do still have the 6 accelerometers, but the 'datum' is no longer just the 6 (x,y,z) locations, it's the "stick figure" representation of the lines between each sensor. And now we approximate the position of each LED as a line between the current positions of the accelerometers, and we measure the distance from that approximation to anywhere on the datum stick figure.
I'm not sure if this the exact algorithm I'd use, but hopefully I've described it well enough to get the idea across.
What do you think?
I know it's absolutely absurd in scope for a first LED project, but I am pretty solid on the math and programming involved in an abstract sense... I could do this in Unity or Blender for example... How it turns out in the real world is a different story!
Would this work?
Would you approach this differently?
What other features or cool effects would you build with this data?

"In the heart of this darkness, the human spirit alit and led the world to peace. The contest between the Surgix and the Arfim had escalated and the Surgix had shown that they were capable of harmful actions equal to those that humans are capable of. The Surgix continued to cause harm to the Arfim until the humans intervened. It is not the fault of the humans that the Surgix refused to cease, and that the humans resorted to eliminating all of the Surgix and dismantling their infrastructure with the use of projected explosive tools they categorize as 'weapons'. The humans obviously hesitated when the Surgix were in orbit to continue the contest. See the evidence that the humans attempted to warn the Surgix that they were being perceived as a threat before they reduced the star fleet to zero." Grand Defender Osowl Fitten described the actions of the humans of Tarnak. To the humans in the courtroom, she looked like some kind of armored sea otter and her setting on the servo preferred to translate her words in the voice of Park Eun-Bin, a human she admired. Her defense relied on showing that the humans had fought humanely and to protect the Arfim from the aggressions of the Surgix.
"In conclusion, I'd like to mention that projections of what the Surgix would have done to the Arfim would result in the extinction of the Arfim, had not the humans intervened. Because the humans do not have the means or the methods that would have resolved this any other way, their only other option would be to step aside and allow the Surgix to continue their campaign against the Arfim. It is not in human nature to stand idle and watch innocents suffer, without feeling compelled to intervene.
We have already accepted human nature, but we have not accepted the human species into Cave Gods And Friends Association. Since humans are not part of our allegiance, should their actions be held to our governing, or to our policies? Should they be required to follow our rules, and also receive no privileges or protections? The humans acted independently, and yet, with the exception of the nature of their actions, the spirit of their efforts does seem to align with our way of doing things."
Osowl Fitten sat down and closed her flax-colored eyes. Behind her the commanders of the human military were seated, wearing their uniforms with chevrons representing their degree of knowledge of warfare, a distinctly human endeavor. Unfortunately, the degree of human warfare so greatly exceeded the nasty business of the Surgix horde, that the result was the swift and efficient eradication of all Surgix equipment, fortifications and the Surgix themselves, who were actually killed by the humans - but only as a last resort when the Arfim refugees were pursued into human territory. Images of the humans firing warning shots and using sound amplifiers with recordings of Surgix in distress to attempt to warn the Surgix before they committed to using harmful actions on them.
When nothing would stop the Surgix advance, the humans were triggered into a state of war, and then they used harmful actions to remove all things Surgix, resulting in a morbid peace, during which the Arfim began to recover and rebuild, with human assistance.
"Ladies and gentlemen, bringers of peace and harmony, esteemed artists, conflict-resolvers, lend to me your attention." The Blue Light Watcher, a species the humans saw as anthropomorphic tarantulas, had a device that instantly spoke in perfect mechanical English, whatever her urticators vibrated. Her name was Exalted Inquisitor Ghox Byle, and like Osowl Fitten, she had an exceptionally successful career.
"Two years ago, the Surgix sued for peace. This is because the humans attacked them on Tarnak IV, the last remaining colony of the Surgix in the Tarnak System. The severity and brutality of this attack must be noted. It does not show any sort of restraint until after the Surgix surrendered. Even after the Surgix had surrendered, individual human soldiers killed Surgix that were trying to surrender. Therefore, despite the description of the Battle of Tarnak and the repelled Surgix Invasion of Tarnak, there was a third, much darker chapter in which the human generals decided to attack the remaining Surgix forces before they could possibly launch a second invasion attempt.
This sort of excessive use of violence is a uniquely human capability. Not even the Surgix were ready to engage humans in this sort of contest. The Surgix have renounced war, disarmed themselves and have applied for membership in Cave Gods And Friends Association. The humans, they don't even want to join, they have said to us that they don't need our guidance, that they are capable of making moral choices on their own. This arrogance, coupled with their extreme capabilities in conflict resolution, should mean that those among us who have made preparations to deal with the humans, should be allowed to utilize those preparations." Exalted Inquisitor Ghox Byle concluded.
Osowl Fitten stood alone in the interrogation suite. The memory of that courtroom moment was considered by the Sunder tribunal. No Cave Gods were summoned, and Osowl had already stated that she found this to be a court-martial, and her compulsory cooperation was only because her friends were held captive.
An artificial human-sounding voice, not too different from a famous K-Pop singer from the twenty-second century of the humans before their ascension spoke disembodied, translated from the Sunder administration's shadow government, on some distant moon in the Basilik system.
"You think the humans are just trying to get help from the Sunder to make new weapons in preparation for a possible invasion by the Unknown. Why wouldn't you consider that we have no recognition of this mythology? We are not as sentimental about superstitions as the Cave Gods, and we will be the judges this time, for once. No Cave Gods will sit there groveling in prayer and meditation trying to make some higher moral decision. It has become tedious."
"You disregard what unites us. Your cowardice is beneath me. Take me to a proper courtroom and we will formally debate this. Where is Eshka Layenna?" Osowl's eyes were bright red and tinted with jagged black veins. She was outraged by the indignity.
"We have decided to dispose of the prisoners on a timeline aligned with the conclusion of these proceedings." The Sunder said, oddly accenting the English, as though the voice preferred another language, and it was just one more layer to the indignations.
"You show them these defenses of mine, then?" Osowl flittered a yellow shimmer across her eyes and fell silent, considering a different approach.
"Well, are you without any argument? This concludes these proceedings." The hidden Sunder spoke.
"You would not consider the thespian nature of our arrest to be sufficient trade, to warrant our expedition a circus, and therefore overturn the verdict?" Osowl asked. "When I leave I will mention these proceeding concluded with such a question. Perhaps you will consider your reputation as ruthful judges to prioritize over the satisfaction of a precedent of victory over human crime won only with this silly court-martial."
"Uh. No. Well. Actually, we have reconsidered. We admit such a question is entered into these proceedings and that we have heard that question."
"And?" Osowl prompted their response, making a prompting coughing noise.
"We have noted the popularity and uniqueness of the Phoenix Hawk's arrival classifies it as a circus, technically. If that is really what you are claiming, and not to buy weapons?"
"I never intended to buy weapons, nor can I confirm that my companions expected to be able to either. Mostly we just wanted to visit and articulate in-character the mythologies you have said are never more than sentiment. Sounds to me like a circus." Osowl had already thought of her words before they asked, and answered with a quickness that assured her veracity was intact.
"In that case, the verdict is overturned. Unbelievable." said the voice of the Sunder.
"One more thing. Since Eshka Layenna is now free, I veto her reparations be in the form of restoring all forms of her authority as an Exalted Inquisitor, that way you aren't embarrassed by these proceedings." Osowl big brained.
"Of course. That makes perfect sense." the voice decided.
Eshka Layenna was released and her authority was restored promptly. She took her seal and issued a command for the research and development of mass-scale plasma shielding that might protect a fleet of ships from bombardment in space and the manufacture of all forms of ammunition on Admiral Jinar's shopping list. This infuriated Administrator Ihanna Kelele, who was obligated to obey the orders.
As they left, the humans asked about Tarnak IV and Tarnac, the home world of the Riftin. It turned out they were coincidentally named very similarly, but the two planets were in different systems and quite distinct. The humans thought this was funny for some reason.
"Historically your species has the most adaptive sense of humor, but I fear the Riftin might give you humans a run for your money?" Osowl attempted, botching it horribly.
"No! - that's just hilarious, a what for our what?" Jinar and her soldier died laughing.

Some added information: This hypothetical arc 4 takes place around 7 years after flames of hope, contact between pantala and pyhria has been cut off somehow, and the seawings sent out to contact pantala have instead found polreca, filled with new dragons, and a war
New continent: Polreca
Polreca is a third continent in the wings of fire world, the largest out of the three, with five tribes to inhabit it
Geography:
At the center of Polreca, we have the active volcano Flaming Peak, and the palace of the Cavewings, nearby in the surrounding area charred by the volcano's eruptions, we have the Flamewing palace, and on a mountain rivaling the size of jade mountain, (or agate mountain before the landslide in legends darkstalker) we see the Thunderwing palace, placed by the northern shore of Polreca is the coastal redwoods forest you see the Sizzlewing palace, and dotted around we have some of the few cave openings with direct paths to the areas where Protowings make their homes.
New tribes:
Thunderwings
Thunderwings are dragons with instead of four legs and two wings they have two legs and two wings, They also breathe lightning, they live in the tallest mountains in Polrecah, they are very intelligent dragons, smarter than the nightwings ever will be, this would lead to some beef between the two tribes, they often fly into storms for fun, with them having scales that have direct nerve connections with a lightning pouch in their throat, they can gain electricity from being struck by lightning, but they also have another organ that allows them to breathe electricity without being struck by lightning first, it is common for the queen and her challenger before a battle for the throne to go into a large lightning storm to charge up, this is also where the challenge takes place. However, thunderwings must be careful, because if they aren’t, they may be inflicted with “storm sickness” an affliction that is caused by overcharging in a lightning storm, leading to less energy, weak lightning breath, and fatigue, storm sickness can last anywhere from 2-3 days, to 3-10 years, and can even be permanent
They are named after different storms, cloud formations, etc.
Queen: Queen Thunderclap
Princess: Cumulonimbus
Prince: Typhoon
Characters of note: Stratus (a pale thunderwing with a keen mind for innovation, and if he gets angry enough, you don’t want to be in his way)
Flamewings
Flamewings, are the most Phyrria and Pantala esc dragons on Polreca, they are similar to skywings with flamescales, except that’s their entire population, though instead of breathing fire, they breath ice oddly enough, this works by gathering all of their cold into a sac in their throat, and allowing it to be expelled along with their liquid nitrogen like saliva, creating ice cold enough to induce frostbite in even icewings, however this equates to normal frost breath effects on other Flamewings due to their scales being super heated, they live near Flaming Peak, the active volcano at the center of Polreca, they are capable of living here due to their scales being able to withstand the heat of the lava.
Their names often follow along the lines of wildfire, ash, charcoal, etc.
Queen: Queen Ash
Princess: Wildfire
Characters of note: Princess wildfire (A somewhat shy dragon, with a burning desire to be a strong and reliable leader for her people, and during the first few books she butts heads with Echo often)
Protowings
Protowings are ancient dragons, from long before the scorching, living fossils so to speak, they have no fire breath, no venom, no gills, no camouflage, no silk, no frost breath, and their wings don't allow for self powered flight, but do allow for short glides, their scales/skin is thin and almost salamander like, they are an assorted amount of colors from black to white to red to blue and everything in between, they require water to lay their shelless eggs in, oh yeah they have eggs similar to amphibians, their lifespan is up to 500 years old and they are considered adults at 200, they live in small communities, of about 15 adult individuals maybe more that aren't adults, living in deep caves underground, where even seawings have trouble seeing, this darkness has never bothered the protowings, they are not that big, the oldest being about the size of clay in book 1, and they feed off of moss that grows in the caves and small bugs that also make the caves their home, their claws are dull, and their fangs small and useless, leading to then making rudimentary tools out of assorted rocks, with obsidian being commonly used, they have perfected hoard mentality, when one is threatened they release a call that can echo through the caves easily, this alerts the rest of their community, allowing them to swarm the threat and bring it down, they also commonly have severe photo phobia, fear of the light, meaning that if you want to see them you need to catch one while its hunting or foraging nearby, they are masters of their caves, easily being able to navigate thanks in no small part to their echolocation and gecko-like feet.
How they are named differs from community to community, in one, they might be named after cave formations like the Cavewings, in others they may be named similar to the cats from the warriors series(which Sutherland also worked on) with a prefix and a suffix.
Queen: they have no queen as they have no main kingdom
Characters of note: beetle’s leg, bug’s jaw
Cavewings
Cavewings are underground living dragons with no wings and stone like scales with different colored scales dotting their hide like gems, they live in the caves all across Polreca, not as deep as the protowings, but pretty deep, they have night vision, echolocation (like the protowings), and they are the greediest of all dragons, they also have scales that are near impenetrable, to the point that even things like flamesilk and rainwing venom have a hard time getting through, they are also effective burrowers and capable of launching themselves high into the air with no ceiling obstructing them high enough to snatch flying Flameings out of the air when the try to cross the border, making them near impossible to attack which is bad because the Flamewings and Cavewings are at war, they also do not eat like other dragons, they use lava they find by their main palace in Flaming Peak to cook their prey alive, dunking it in the lava and holding it there until it is thoroughly charred, and eat it like that, but certain groups use Flamewings to cook their meals, this has been announced to the flamewings that it was made illegal by the queen but this practice is unfortunately getting used more and more, with “rumors” stating that the queen has only said that she made it illegal but has in fact encouraged it, even going as far to say that she has three Flamewings at all times to cook her meals, hence why they are at war with the Flamewings.
They are often named after cave formations and minerals
Queen: Queen Stalagmite
Princess(s): Echo, Stalactite, and Cavern
Prince(s): Ravine, Drip, and Bat
Characters of note: Prince Ravine (a large cavewing who has no real friends outside of the other protagonists, his attacks have been described as “feeling like being hit by a mountain”)
Princess Echo (A smart cavewing with what her mother and sisters call “a weird obsession with the flamewings” Saying “They are nothing but tools for us to use” Echo is of course disgusted by the fact her family thinks like that)
Sizzlewings
Sizzlewings are effectively snakes with wings, and masters of venom, poison, etc, they have the unique ability to synthesize venom of things they eat, able to eat say, a dragonbite viper and create a venom that mixes their Rainwing esc venom with it, you see, by “default” their venom is similar to a rainwing, but their venom is slow acting, meaning if it gets on any other dragon, (aside from Flamewings and Cavewings) they will be slowly burnt and horribly scarred, but when they hatch they have venom that is no worse than a bee sting, but when they turn 14 their venom glands are fully developed and their venom would make a rainwing blush, they have full immunity their own venom and how they fight is that they wrap their enemy in their body, and bite them, shooting venom directly into their body and watching them squirm and perish, slowly, and painfully, this actually leads into their most common profession: Assassins and mercenaries, the sizzlewings are widely known to be a tribe who will side with whoever pays the most, at one time often splitting to become defense squadrons for different tribes and fighting each other, but ever since their “great tusked one” arrived they have lived by three rules: #1, always listen to the tusked ones descendents, the royal family, #2 never splinter off into their own factions, #3 most importantly of all, no killing other Sizzlewings outside of succession battles,
This “Great tusked one” came at a time when the tribe was splintered into three factions, called Toxin, Poison, and fang, The “tusked one” as he is known by in the royal family was an old male Sizzlewing, he was huge and had massive tusks, instead of fangs, his descendents, also have these tusks, but they still have fangs, the tusked one has long since died, nobody knows for certain where he came from, or even how old he was, but that he was strong, yet kind, he was the one who forced the three factions to sit together and decide on the three rules, and he helped them merge together. However, Queen toxin has had a queen coral situation, where there were no princess’ until slither, where the only times eggs would survive, would be when the assassin was caught with a band over their face, until toxin herself slept by her egg, nearly starving herself, and now she allows her daughter to play, but under supervision.
They are often named along the lines of toxin, venom, stinger, etc. baby Sizzlewings are called “acidlings” until they turn 15
Queen: Queen toxin
Princess: Slither
Prince(s): Stinger, Viper, Venom, and about 12 or so more
Characters of note: Princess Slither (a small sizzlewing with a cold demeanor and will not hesitate to leave you behind if you can’t keep up, she uses her nonthreatening appearance to her advantage, luring her targets into a false sense of confidence, only to suddenly be writhing on the ground, begging for death,)
protagonists* for this hypothetical arc 4:
Bone (one of my OC’s, a sandwing Pronouns: He/Him)
Bloodcrest (an OC of a friend of mine, a nightwing, pronouns:She/Her, was hatched under two full moons, with the crescent third moon being a blood moon)
Princess Wildfire
Princess Echo
Stratus
Beetle’s leg, his friends call him Beetle, or they would if he had any, as he says so himself. (a large protowing with piercing eyes that can unsettle even the bravest warriors, he has gray scales with black speckles dotting his face, he also has golden wings that he has been told by the other protagonists [friends?] make him look very beautiful, and a total goofball, has a scar on his eye from fighting the protowing that killed his mother)
Other protagonists:
Prince Ravine (has a crush on wildfire)
Princess Slither
Antagonists for this hypothetical arc 4:
Queen Stalagmite
Princess Stalactite
Bug’s jaw (beetle’s leg’s father and leader of his community, a gray protowing with red spots around his eyes and green stripes down his back)
Hybrids: The dragons native to Polreca cannot hybridize with each other, however the Cavewings and Flamewings can. The Polreca tribes can hybridize with other dragons from the other continents, although most of them are flamewing hybrids.
Flamewing-cavewing: I call them magmawings, they look like cavewings with a sort of heatblast from ben 10 look (god that reboot looks awful.)
Sizzlewing-rainwing: long protruding fangs and serrated teeth, sizzlewing like body with color changing abilities.
Flamewing-skywing: very similar to a skywing with firescales, but they breathe steam due to their heritage.
Flamewing-mudwing: leads to a big wings big enough to swallow a human whole, also breathes boiling steam.
*characters that have a book told from their POV.

Part 5
Gerard, God
Somewhere in time and space
He watched the passers-by as they moved about, following their daily routines, unaware of the fate that would shortly befall them. This was the time that fascinated Him the most. The moments before they finally understood that The Threat was here.
It was a sort of last hurrah, He thought. They didn't know it, but Gerard could nonetheless sense a sort of joi de vivre, a liveliness that simply didn't exist in prior times, and couldn't possibly exist in future ones. He watched mothers dote lovingly over their children, watched children hurl themselves into play with abandon, watched addicts take in their drugs like a drowning man would gulp for air. They might not known that there was no tomorrow for most of them, but they nonetheless seemed to put just a little bit of extra effort into everything.
Eventually, it came to an end, of course. It always did, no matter how many times He watched it. He saw happiness and mundanity give way to pain and suffering. Laughter was replaced by the screams of the dying. Life was replaced by death. The world replaced by destruction.
He sighed, leaving this timeline. He never watched the arrival of The Threat twice in the same timeline. There was nothing for Him to learn that way. His power was immense and total. He only had to witness The Threat once in each timeline to understand it.
Worst of all was the knowledge. The knowledge that He would only be able to save a single timeline. That all others would fall into ruin, destroyed and left to rot away. Only one could survive; the one that He chose. He could stop The Threat only once, for doing so would require Him to remain. Ever vigilant, ever ready to stop any recurrence.
He had to choose which timeline. That task was less than He feared, for now he knew that there were an infinite number of them. He could choose one with the right qualities, one whose nature would aid Him in His work. He realized then that He would, once He had chosen the proper timeline, finally watch The Threat come twice. Once, when He reviewed that timeline prior to choosing. And again, when He would stop it.
And stop it, He would. No other outcome was acceptable. He had already sacrificed too much. His mortality, His life, His happiness, His very soul itself. He had wrought Himself into a weapon, to strike down The Threat, and He would fulfill that purpose, no matter what.
----
Jerry Williams, Godslayer
Nibiru
We were sharks, swimming and darting among a school of fish. Gods and devas fled, screaming in terror as we flew through the swirling, chaotic energies that should have driven us -or at least my wife and daughter- mad within seconds. They had thought that their realm protected them.
Little did they know, we were already mad.
Inanna and I flanked a group of fleeing gods, preventing them from leaving this world, extending their essence into manifested bodies somewhere in one of the countless material worlds, or simply crossing the energy that was the core of their beings into the Spirit World. Here, in Nibiru, our divinities and demi-divinities gave us access to unlimited power. We seized it and wove nets with which to entrap those minor gods who could not find escape elsewhere, and had huddled here in fear of our coming.
As the group fled, we sped up, curving our course, which caused them to curve theirs, fearful of drawing too close to either of us. We moved slowly, carefully, angling them where we wanted them to go.
It wasn't long before the gaping maw of the Grandfather of the Gods came into view. Ixlublotl, the primordial god, the originator of divinity. The gods we herded realized their peril and turned to flee back the opposite direction, but there they found Aaina, burning towards them, screaming in rage and bristling with offensive energies.
Trapped, they had no choice. They attacked us. Emotions and thoughts, energy and matter, all of it flew at us in an orgy of sudden violence that churned the substrate of this world into a screaming chaos. All three of us linked our magics into a shield; a half-sphere of anti-magic that absorbed their attacks, sending the energy of which they were made back into into the swirling chaos around us.
They threw everything they had at us, a desperate last stand, driven by necessity and panic. All of it crashed against our defenses, the resulting streamers of magic filling the space around us with an all but impenetrable cloud. Hidden by that cloud, Ixy closed in.
By the time they realized that it was too late, it was over.
Ixy's physical body, that cloud-wrapped cacophony of maw-stalks, eye-stalks, spider-like legs and whipping tentacles, currently the size of a skyscraper, swept in, mouths snapping up the energies that were the cores of our quarry.
We came together when it was done. Inanna created a haven for us, allowing us to release the magic that held our bodies in stasis and protected us from the wild magic all around. It was a copy of our house, something she'd come up with a while back and shown to me with great pride. I had loved it, of course.
I sank into the loveseat with Inanna next to me as Aaina took the recliner.
"That's most of them," Aaina said.
"About thirty more," I replied. "And then we can start the next phase."
"Do either of you have any doubts about what we're doing?" she asked. I could see the indecision in her eyes. She was so young, and such a good girl. My heart broke at having dragged her into such dirty business.
"No," Inanna answered, her voice hard and confident.
"Yes," I added. "But at the end of the day, this is what needs doing."
Aaina looked back and forth between us, then nodded. None of us smiled.
----
Emily Windham, Wizard, Artificer
Fremont, Nebraska, at the corner of E 4th Ave and N Main St
Emily turned just in time to see the massive troll hit Jim Carmichael with a shoulder, sending the trooper flying before angling at her with no change in speed.
Acting on pure instinct, she conjured a wall of force between them. The troll slammed into it, shattering the magics that held it together with raw force, but the wall did its job, stopping the warrior in his tracks.
Emily snatched the rune-engraved knife off her belt and surged forward, jumping at the last second to put her in range of the troll's huge neck. The blade plunged in, and she released a quick burst of magic that made her legs and off hand sticky, allowing her to cling to the thing, too close for it to use its battleaxe on her.
She ripped the knife out and plunged it in again and again as the barbarian roared in pain and indignation at being hurt so badly by a foe so tiny. Emily grabbed his beard, yanking hard to bring his eyes to hers as she slammed the knife in and twisted, the magic in the blade telling her when it found his windpipe and carotid artery.
Blood sprayed, coating her face and shoulders. The troll's roars were cut off in a gurgling, breathy hiss. He stumbled, then fell. Emily rode him down, her eyes locked onto his, watching all hopes of victory, or even survival, fade from them. She lost herself in those eyes, in the mystery that was this troll's life, ending right before her. She saw the regrets, the crushed hopes, the shame of defeat and wondered at the context.
The impact as they hit the ground broke the spell.
Emily released the magic and stood up, instincts trained into her by the security troops and war wizards making her search for more threats before she could even process what had just happened. But there were no more threats. That had been the last one.
Greg Ramirez walked towards her, his rifle barrel pointed down, hanging from the sling in front of his armor and all the various attachments that he and the security troops referred to as their 'battle rattle'.
"Nice work," he said, eyeing the troll, who continued to gasp for air, the sound of his labored breaths reminding Emily of a pig squealing. She looked down, searching for that orgasmic feeling her bio-dad had so desperately wanted her to share with him, but not finding it. All she found was a sense of satisfaction, yet even that was too much.
Years of therapy, of telling her story to trained clinicians and listening to and internalizing their advice. All of it had helped her make friends and move among the normal people, but it had never erased that feeling of satisfaction. This was the fourth time she'd killed a sentient being, and each time, she felt the exact same way. It was a victory.
Her maudlin thoughts were interrupted by the bark of Greg's rifle. The troll's head jerked and deformed, a splattering of blood coming out as a .277 fury round drilled a hole straight through his temples. She glanced up to find Greg still eyeing her.
"You did good," he said, his expression showing some concern.
"I liked it," she said quietly, her eyes turning back.
"You liked killing him?" Greg asked. Emily nodded, wondering if she'd always be fucked up.
"I killed him," Greg said. "And I damn sure liked it."
Emily turned back, eyeing him with some interest. Greg was, in many ways, the opposite of her. Cool, confident, charming and just all-around well-adjusted. She hadn't ever imagined that he wound enjoy something like this.
"It means I won," he explained. "It means that big, badass motherfucker showed up here trying to bully us, and take whatever he wanted from us, and little old me stood up and said 'no', and when he tried to force the issue, I took his life away. It feels like justice. It feels like one less motherfucker trying to kill me and my friends. Damn straight I liked it."
Emily smiled. She didn't realized she had smiled until Greg smiled back.
"I read your psych eval," he went on. "I know you think you're fucked in the head, but I'm gonna tell you right now, you're not. You're a warrior, that's it. Bloodlust isn't a bad thing, if it can be controlled. Enjoying killing isn't a bad thing, if you're killing the people that need killing. Give yourself a break, girl."
He clapped her on the shoulder, then took the back of her head with his free hand and pressed her forehead to his.
"I'm gonna recommend you be allowed to join the war wizard roster. You're all trained up, you're prepared for it, and from what I've seen today, you're a fucking natural."
Without waiting for a response, he let her go and turned away, grabbing the radio fob on his armor and squeezing it.
"Black Lead, this is Black-Two Actual. All raiders at the target site are neutralized. We're commencing a sweep now, will report back in thirty mikes."
Emily smiled at his back as he walked away. A part of her reflected that he was a natural leader, knowing exactly what to say to her in that moment. Another part didn't care, because it worked. She glanced down at the troll again, and didn't see a victim.
She saw a victory.
----
Kathy Evenson, Professional
Somewhere in the ruins of an ancient city in the Seventh World
Kells shifted nervously as Kathy continued to cut chits from the electrical panel lid with the magical laser emerging from her fingertip. He held his machete, really a short sword, in one hand, and his dagger in the other.
"We really shouldn't be much longer, Kath," he said. Kathy had explained to him the difference between Kath and Kathy, and even hinted at the things she'd done while possessed by Pissface and calling herself 'Kath', and even gone into some detail about how much she hated the nickname. Kells hadn't cared. He simply agreed with her, then continued to call her 'Kath'.
And the truth was, she really didn't mind that much.
She wasn't quite sure why, though she could hazard a guess. The man was disarming to a great degree. He presented himself as a dirty wanderer, a simple, violent man who shouldn't be trusted as far as you could throw him. But within just a few minutes of meeting him, she'd seen the intelligence in his eyes and words. She had seen the integrity in his negotiations with her, and the ethics that had turned him protective when the Searchers had appeared.
And despite that protectiveness, he still managed to avoid being patronizing. When she'd told him how she planned to get his chits, he had warned her of the dangers, then agreed to come along without hesitation when she didn't change her mind. Kells was a good man, she thought, and if a good man wanted to call her Kath, she supposed she could let him reclaim the name from the hell it had once represented.
"It won't be much longer," she said. She already had over seven hundred, and this plate would bring her to eight hundred. She only needed five or six more. This deep in the ruins, there was an untouched electrical box on almost every building. Some had been corroded, but most were surprisingly intact.
As she cut the final strip into chits, a roar sounded. It was a gurgling, rasping roar, unlike anything she had ever heard before. Or rather, the first one had been unlike anything she had ever heard before. This was the third time she'd heard it, and it sounded closer than the last two.
"That's no good sign, right thur," Kells said.
Kathy finished, dumping the little squares of galvanized steel into her bag and standing up.
"Come on," she said. "We'll go a couple blocks away from whatever that was before I cut the next one."
"Aye," Kells agreed, his head swiveling on his shoulders as he followed her down the alley. Kathy took note of how spooked he was. He seemed more nervous here than he had with the Searchers right in front of him. She supposed that might have something to do with the nature of the threats. The Searchers were, regardless of power and reputation, mere humans. Whereas whatever was making that roar was clearly some sort of monster.
She led him six blocks in a direction away from the roar before she stopped to examine the buildings. They had moved into a downtown area, which was one of the reasons she had stopped. The buildings here were closer together, which should make the rest of her task quicker. She found a good cover and ripped the little padlock off, then pulled it open and off its hinges.
A mass of spiders rushed out of the electrical box. She jerked her hand away, but they ignored her, scurrying down the wall and vanishing into the cracks between the bricks, safe once again in enclosed darkness.
She began to cut as Kells again stood watch.
She hadn't even made it halfway through the panel when another roar sounded, even closer than the last, and from a different direction.
"Call it," Kells said. "Call it now, Kath. Better ye collect some more later on than deal with the beast makin' them sounds."
"What kind of beast?" Kathy asked. She kept cutting, but glanced up and around, not seeing anything but filthy, dilapidated alleys.
"Walkers, they call 'em," Kells said. "Like great spiders, but rottin' away, with bones stickin' out an' flesh hangin' off th'legs."
"Great spiders?" Kathy asked. "How big?"
"Bigger'n a building."
"You've seen them yourself?" Kathy asked.
"Only once," Kells said, his voice growing quieter. He seemed to be done speaking for a moment, staring around. But after a few seconds, he continued.
"Friend o'mine, name o' Gil. We used t'work together, he an' I. I were real new to runnin' a caravan crew back then, about ten years back. Gil were an old hand at it, though. Took me under 'is wing and taught me th'roads, as it were.
"Anyways, we'd taken a pair o' contracts. Rough ones, with a tight timetable. Merchants needed t'get to Freeman's Port post-haste. One faster'n th'other. Gil took that one, left me with the easier one, though that weren't t'say it were an easy job.
"We was in Craster's Holdfast at th'time, an smack in between there an' Freeman's Port were an ancient ruin. Big one, 'bout the size o' this'un, in fact. Normally, it took about a week t'travel between the two places, but if one were brave or foolhardy enough, they could cut through th'ruins an' make it in five days.
"Well, old Gil had that in mind. We left together, an' at th'place where ye normally would turn north t'go around the ruins, he led his caravan on straight. I prayed fer their safety that night, but never really believed anything would happen. Gil were an experienced caravaner, an' tougher'n anyone else I'd ever met.
"Two days later, we was walkin' this ridgeline north o'the ruins when somethin' called out t'me. Not sure what, exactly. I started lookin' south, scannin' the ruins, an' sure enough, I found Gil's caravan, walking down a wide road between th'largest buildings. They was movin' at quite a clip, I hav'ta say.
"I were tickled pink, at first. Because we'd made near as good a time as they had, despite movin' almost a day's north to skirt th'ruins. But as I watched, I realized that they weren't just travelin', they was runnin'."
Kells sighed, his eyes distant and full of old regrets.
"That's when I saw one. A great Walker, striding out o' th'deepest part o' th'ruins. The way it moved were like nothin' I ever seen before. It crawled along th'sides o' the ruins themselves, like a spider almost, but always with two or three feet on th'ground.
"It came fer th'caravan, and fell on 'em in a slaughter. I watched it breathe fire down on 'em, stompin' men flat with its feet an' scooping 'em up with its great claws."
He sighed again, then looked down. He tucked his sword under his armpit and used his hand to rub his eyes for a moment, before taking the blade up again.
"Killed 'em all, it did. Erry single one, as I live an' breath. An' when it were done, it went around, stompin' th'bodies flat. Never ate one, jes did all it could t'make sure that not a single survivor lived t'tell the tale. I were shook something fierce, I tell ya. Took me own caravan down off the ridge, t'avoid bein' spotted. We ended up arriving a day late, but to this day, I thank me lucky stars we made it at all."
Another sigh came, and Kathy heard the cracks in his voice as he continued on.
"Not Gil, though. Nor any o'them what worked for him, or th'merchant what hired him. A few years later, I worked up th'courage t'take a couple o'men into the ruins, t'find the bodies. I found bones dressed in Gil's clothes. I took his sword, which had survived, an' is th'one I carry to this day. I think Gil'd be pleased to know his blade had saved me life, quite a few times since."
Kathy finished cutting the cover up and stood to put her hands on Kells' shoulder.
"Thank you for telling me that," she said, her voice gentle. "I can tell it's an important story to you."
Kells nodded and sniffed once, then jerked his head in the direction away from the most recent roar. "I still think we should get out o' here, Kath," he said. "I'll face down the Searchers an' be happy o' a good death, should they take me. But them Walkers... They ain't warriors ye can face an' die with honor. One o'them things finds us, there ain't no fightin' it. We jes' die screaming, th'only consolation coming when it's all over."
Kathy weighed his words carefully. Kells knew this world far better than she did. And while she knew her own abilities far better than anyone here, she had to be mindful not to be too arrogant. Kells had told her how a single Walker had slaughtered an entire caravan of experienced fighters, led by an experienced leader.
"Okay," she said. She handed the bag to Kells. "There should be about eight hundred and fifty chits in there. You can count them out later, and I'll trust your count. After I find what I'm looking for, I'll collect the rest and we'll settle up."
"Good call," Kells said. He tied the bag off to his belt and walked to the corner of the building, peeking around. When he was satisfied, he nodded. Kathy joined him, and together, they made a beeline to the edge of the ruins.
They had made it about halfway out when another roar sounded, this one right on top of them. A rumbling crash sounded from her right, and Kathy turned to see rubble falling to the ground as something massive rose off the ground, two blocks over.
"Stars an' stones," Kells swore, then shouted "Run!"

• How old are you? What's your gender? Give us a general description of yourself.

1. Either agender and/or pangender. I’m also either asexual and/or pansexual. I live comfortably alone but have a decent number of friends that I maintain communications with. Onlookers seem to believe I am dating all of them (not all at once but individually depending on which one I am “closest” to), which I take to mean that I apply no distinction between a friend and a partner (which I can agree with), hence the asexual/pansexual duality. Not really sure what this has to do with typing but there's a description.

• Is there a medical diagnosis that may impact your mental stability somehow?
Yes.
• Describe your upbringing. Did it have any kind of religious or structured influence? How did you respond to it?
I had a whole paragraph here but I realised it was probably very NSFW so I've decided to remove this part.
• What do you do as a job or as a career (if you have one)? Do you like it? Why or why not?
I’m an engineer, a mix of both hardware and software. I like the work of my job, but I don’t care much for the job or career part of it. I don’t have any career ambitions and would rather just learn the skills that the work can provide me and then move on to becoming entirely self-sufficient and only working for myself. I don’t think it's the other people aspect I dislike here as such, more the lack of independence and control over how I spend my time. That said, it’s worth it to live on my own two feet away from disturbances in the house.
• If you had to spend an entire weekend by yourself, how would you feel? Would you feel lonely or refreshed?
I know I would be completely fine, as I do this regularly. I don’t think I feel lonely nor refreshed. I generally have plenty to do with my time and find ways to occupy myself, even if that involves doing nothing and resting. If I’m interested in someone's thoughts or feelings on a topic I will just message them without issue and I usually do this once or twice a day, but there are many occasions in which I will just be focused on doing my own thing and won’t have contacted anyone.
• What kinds of activities do you prefer? Do you like, and are you good at sports? Do you enjoy any other outdoor or indoor activities?
I do all kinds of activities, from reading to games to sports. I’m very good at sports and enjoy them, but I usually choose to stay inside over doing them. I think to an onlooker a lot of my activities could look more like work than fun, but I get fun out of them. You would be most likely to find me (or not) inside reading some kind of research paper or building a machine. If not that then you’d find me playing a single player RPG/sandbox style game and if not that then you’d probably find me meditating/introspecting. You’d probably only find me outside playing sports if I’d been asked to by a friend.
• How curious are you? Do you have more ideas then you can execute? What are your curiosities about? What are your ideas about - is it environmental or conceptual, and can you please elaborate?
Very curious. I research just about everything in depth and if I had free time I would research even more. It’s become something of an inside joke at work that I will come in and have some kind of new theory or discovery to share with the office about some random topic that has nothing to do with the last. I don’t think I have more ideas than I can execute, it's more that I have more ideas than I do execute. I’m actually not a very ambitious person despite my insatiable curiosity, so there are many occasions where I will do nothing at all. Aside from the theories I create from whatever information/topic I have been researching, most of the ideas I present to others are to do with having fun. I often create small games using the objects we have in our environment (like playing cards or checkers pieces) on the spot, improvising the rules as we go along DnD style. I actually was invited to play DnD once with a friend group but I was something of a nightmare of a player since I would come up with completely outlandish ideas that the DM couldn’t handle. I was never invited to a session again after that.
• Would you enjoy taking on a leadership position? Do you think you would be good at it? What would your leadership style be?
Being a leader isn’t tied to my self identity at all, but it does seem to be the impression other people get about me. I have been told several times that I would make a good cult leader (concerningly) and that I always seem to end up in charge of a situation. I don’t really do this on purpose but a lot of the time I am the only one who will speak up and start moving a group forward when we are in a situation that calls for it. I have been told that I am quite a diplomatic leader that makes sure people get along, have something to do and feel supported. That said, I personally don’t like telling people what they should value. I am of the belief that it is their own choice to decide that. I will however help people by telling them the actions they could take in line with those chosen values. I also think conflict is quite important and I will only try to keep the conflict civil without ending it until both parties are satisfied and have conveyed everything they wish to. This also includes conflict with me, I dislike “sweeping things under the rug”.
• Are you coordinated? Why do you feel as if you are or are not? Do you enjoy working with your hands in some form? Describe your activity?
I think I am. I often feel as though my entire body is under my control and I am very intune with any physical sensations. I fear being paralyzed or losing mental integrity. This is the reason I avoid dangerous and reckless behavior that could result in losing control of my mind or body. I will not partake in highly “extreme” sports such as free climbing and I will not consume any kind of drugs to an extent that it affects my mental state, including alcohol.
• Are you artistic? If yes, describe your art? If you are not particularly artistic but can appreciate art please likewise describe what forms of art you enjoy. Please explain your answer.
I’m not actually sure. I like writing stories and drawing, but I wouldn’t consider myself an artist. I am very interested in art and have been learning how to properly paint and create music on and off for a while now. I think it's probably similar to sports in the sense that I enjoy it but rarely choose it over another activity. I don’t really enjoy going to art museums, I find art to be subjective so interacting with it from such an objective standpoint disinterests me. A lot of my friends are artists and I support them in their endeavors.
• What's your opinion about the past, present, and future? How do you deal with them?
I don’t think about the past much unless I actively make myself do so to search for something there. I am very in tune with the present and am constantly looking out for dangers in my environment and observing people, but it's not my main way of thinking. I am almost always thinking about the future, both in terms of potential futures as well as what future I am aiming for. I have some trouble deciding on a future to aim for since all of the options seem so appealing and I don’t particularly want to close any of them off. There is a part of me that wishes I was immortal so that I could experience as much of everything as possible. This is probably also the part of me that likes stories and hearing the experiences of others since I get to understand a whole other world with its own futures in such a short amount of time.
• How do you act when others request your help to do something (anything)? If you would decide to help them, why would you do so?
I will help immediately. I’m not entirely sure why but I imagine it has something to do with me enjoying solving problems, whether that problem is mine or anothers. I have largely minimized my worldly connections and needs so I often appear to “go out of my way” to help others even if it appears like it's sacrificial to myself. I don’t find it sacrificial to myself at all. I don’t need anything to be comfortable, it’s all just building upon that initial comfort as a kind of “excess” or “abundance”. I could lose everything I own tomorrow and be absolutely fine. All of this to say, I don’t sacrifice myself for others, I just help them most likely because I enjoy it. I do not consider myself a “good” person for doing this, in fact I do not really believe in the concept of good or evil at all.
• Do you need logical consistency in your life?
I think the fact that I immediately thought both yes and no for this question points to me not needing it. I certainly try to be logically consistent, but it's not the end of the world if I’m not. I think it's more important to me that I not be in denial about it.
• How important is efficiency and productivity to you?
I do aim for efficiency but it’s not very important to me. While I do want to make the most of my time in this life, if I don’t feel like doing anything then I won’t. I’m comfortable with being unproductive and “lazy” for as long as I like.
• Do you control others, even if indirectly? How and why do you do that?
I think I’m indirectly controlling. I don’t use force to control people (at least not anymore), I’m more inclined to engineer the circumstances of a situation in a way that results in people choosing to move in one of the ways that I want them to. Nobody has told me I am controlling, nor do they seem to feel they are being controlled. I don’t really do this intentionally, it just ends up being the path that I go down based on the options I have available (perhaps I am being controlled by something as well?). I’m not sure why I do this but if I had to guess it would be to protect myself and others from being hurt, after all you can’t be hurt if the option isn’t even available.
• What are your hobbies? Why do you like them?
See activities. My topics of interest are usually to do with people, nature or technology.
• What is your learning style? What kind of learning environments do you struggle with most? Why do you like/struggle with these learning styles? Do you prefer classes involving memorization, logic, creativity, or your physical senses?
I teach myself things. I always seem to find teachers/tutors intellectually suffocating. Outside of that I take any form of information possible.
• How good are you at strategizing? Do you easily break up projects into manageable tasks? Or do you have a tendency to wing projects and improvise as you go?
I break tasks down instinctively. I do like to plan out the whole project before I start but I have no problem deviating from the plan and improvising if I think of something I like the sound of more. This usually results in the finished project looking very different from the plan and taking longer than it could have.
• What are your aspirations in life, professionally and personally?
None really. I’m content with just existing. However, in terms of what I choose to pursue it would be perfection in all fields, having all knowledge and having experienced everything, as well as transmitting this perfection to everyone else so that they stand beside me. More realistically, I’m trying to buy some land and build a community so that as many people are under my direct protection and responsibility as possible. The world has many powerful people that are looking to exploit the innocent solely for their own gain. I’m not expecting a utopia but I would hope it would be more comfortable for people to live in than the insecurity of greater society. It’s nice to think of spending the rest of my days with this small community.
• What are your fears? What makes you uncomfortable? What do you hate? Why?
As mentioned earlier, I fear losing autonomy of my body and mind. I think I would still be comfortable in this state as I would get used to it but I actively avoid it coming to pass. I don’t think I hate anything, I don’t think in black and white. I’m not even sure I think in shades of gray, it seems more like the whole spectrum of color to me. I mentioned I don’t really believe in good or evil. In the event that someone is judged as evil by the world I can easily look at them and find just as many things people would find good. Does this make me endlessly accommodating of the actions of others? Certainly not. It’s just a matter of managing a conflict of interests, which is not something I struggle with.
• What do the "highs" in your life look like?
I can’t really think of anything that would fit a “high”. I think the closest thing would be my family and my friends. I’m not sure why they are what comes to mind. I mentioned before that I would be comfortable with losing everything I own since I have discarded worldly attachment, but for some reason when I think of losing people it's not such an easy answer.
• What do the "lows" in your life look like?
There was a time just after I had graduated high school and before I had moved out that I was highly depressed. I lacked any kind of purpose or direction in life and thought that I should have it. I also felt immense guilt over the harm I had caused throughout my school life. I believed that I should hide myself away from all life so that I never had the choice to take those actions again. It took me over a year living in this state to finally pull myself out of it. I discarded my need for a purpose or a direction and I discarded the need to be forgiven for the past so that I could live a new life. I discarded any other need that I could find as it is when a need is unmet that you enter a victim mindset, which is a mindset that I really want to avoid in me.
• How attached are you to reality? Do you daydream often, or do you pay attention to what's around you? If you do daydream, are you aware of your surroundings while you do so?
I’m not attached to reality at all. I daydream very often but I do pay close attention to my surroundings while I do so. I think having extremely sensitive senses helps with this. I have quite a vibrant and detailed imaginary world.
• Imagine you are alone in a blank, empty room. There is nothing for you to do and no one to talk to. What do you think about?
I would think about the same things I do as I fall asleep. In other words, I’d just daydream about hypotheticals and the future. Possibly not the future in this case as there might not be one but I imagine I’d be able to entertain myself endlessly in my head.
• How long do you take to make an important decision? And do you change your mind once you've made it?
I think of myself as having 3 decision makers. My rational mind, my sensory body/gut and my emotional heart. If all 3 are in agreement, I am able to make a decision very quickly. If 2 are in agreement, I will take longer to weigh up the options before I choose as often they will end up in agreement after I have thought it through. I will do the same if none are in agreement. In the event that they still can’t come to a unanimous decision I will flip a coin or roll a dice and go with the option that picks. I do this no matter how “important” the decision is.
• How long do you take to process your emotions? How important are emotions in your life?
Apparently I don’t feel emotions in the way other people do (at least according to the people I’ve spoken to about this). I tend to recognise emotions through the bodily sensations they apply to my body, for example, I can tell if I'm angry by my body feeling hot and my jaw feeling tense. With reference to my 3 decision makers, this means I can only figure out what my heart is telling me by going through my body. In chaotic or highly sensory situations where there is not enough time or space to recognise what I am feeling, it’s as though I am not feeling any emotion at all. I tend to think they are just as important as the other 2 decision makers when deciding things, as emotions are the basis for deciding what you value. If you don’t know what you value, you can’t determine what the best actions are for you to take according to those values, which results in nihilism. I think people would be surprised to learn that I consider emotions important. I have an almost entirely inexpressive face and a monotone voice which has resulted in me being called a robot quite often. In the times that I do have an expression, it is usually fake and done to make the other person feel more comfortable.
• Do you ever catch yourself agreeing with others just to appease them and keep the conversation going? How often? Why?
No. If I want to keep the conversation going then I will intentionally disagree with them to see how far they can take their opinion and understand it better. If I disagree with someone, I will inform them of my perspective. I do not wish for them to agree with me to “appease” me, although I will understand if they make that choice. I want them to inform me of their whole perspective so that I can understand it. If they can convince me after all this, then I will truly agree with them. This is not always the case though, I can imagine times that I would pretend to agree with someone, but it would have to be “worth” it.
• Do you break rules often? Do you think authority should be challenged, or that they know better? If you do break rules, why?
I don’t think rules are set in stone. If I disagree with a rule and there are no meaningful consequences, then the rule may as well not exist for me. I make no comments on others' takes on that. I will challenge authority any time I want to. Whether or not they “should” be challenged depends on what you value in an authority, but for my case the answer is yes they should be. In the event I am an authority I would want to be challenged, it would be both an opportunity to test my ability as well as to exchange information with people.

I'm working on some footage that was sent over to me by a client. They explicitly asked me not to share the contents with any third party because the video is related to a sensitive subject, so I'll try my best to describe this with words I hope you understand.
The video was shot in Rec. 709, Gamma 2.4. ProRes 422, 10bit.
I don't have any color management set up, I'm working with a CST in-CST out workflow. But when I do that, the footage looks more log and flat than it did initially (the original video looks log even though it's not, I checked with the client and the metadata and it checks out to be 709/2.4). Which didn't make any sense to me.
But then, I was trying different things and changed the CST in from "709/2.4 -> DWG/DI" to "709/2.4 -> Timeline" and bam! Footage looks normal. CST out is set to "DWG/DI -> 709/2.4" still. There's no color management, which means timeline space is also 709.
So basically it looks like this, 709/2.4 -> 709/2.4 == DWG/DI -> 709/2.4
I'm glad it worked but I'm so confused about what's happening.
Sorry if it's a stupid question, I'm fairly new to doing this as a gig and never encountered this before.

Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory

Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.

All Buyouts are listed in cash value.

KNIVES

★ Butterfly Knife Lore (Factory New), B/O: $7194.77

★ Butterfly Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2025.74

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★ M9 Bayonet Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $557.87

★ M9 Bayonet Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $529.41

★ M9 Bayonet Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $465.39

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★ Talon Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $1295.27

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth (Minimal Wear), B/O: $746.28

★ Karambit Bright Water (Field-Tested), B/O: $688.15

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★ Flip Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $547.93

★ Flip Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $476.69

★ Flip Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $278.18

★ Flip Knife Black Laminate (Well-Worn), B/O: $258.83

★ Flip Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $181.64

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★ Stiletto Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $686.04

★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $665.41

★ Stiletto Knife, B/O: $601.39

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $418.25

★ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $227.80

★ Stiletto Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.96

★ Stiletto Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $192.79

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★ Nomad Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $518.11

★ Nomad Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $169.78

★ Nomad Knife Forest DDPAT (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $166.88

★ StatTrak™ Nomad Knife Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $335.79

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★ Skeleton Knife Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $442.05

★ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Minimal Wear), B/O: $426.24

★ Skeleton Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $314.03

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2361.28

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $376.53

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★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $557.12

★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $471.42

★ Ursus Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $212.37

★ Ursus Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $187.66

★ Ursus Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $178.18

★ Ursus Knife Ultraviolet (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $155.13

★ Ursus Knife Boreal Forest (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.26

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★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Minimal Wear), B/O: $204.83

★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Field-Tested), B/O: $184.50

★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Lore (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $224.11

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★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $2142.02

★ Bowie Knife, B/O: $230.44

★ Bowie Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $209.20

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.51

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

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★ Falchion Knife Night (Field-Tested), B/O: $132.54

★ Falchion Knife Urban Masked (Well-Worn), B/O: $112.81

★ Falchion Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $108.81

★ Falchion Knife Forest DDPAT (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.82

★ Falchion Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.46

★ StatTrak™ Falchion Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $143.08

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★ Paracord Knife Crimson Web (Minimal Wear), B/O: $486.48

★ Paracord Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $163.12

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★ Survival Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $138.26

★ Survival Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

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★ Gut Knife Sapphire (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1127.79

★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $286.17

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $246.55

★ Gut Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $240.77

★ Gut Knife, B/O: $210.49

★ Gut Knife Lore (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.22

★ Gut Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $151.51

★ Gut Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.94

★ Gut Knife Rust Coat (Well-Worn), B/O: $118.99

★ Gut Knife Boreal Forest (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.80

★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $237.96

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★ Shadow Daggers Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $264.92

★ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $253.03

★ Shadow Daggers Tiger Tooth (Factory New), B/O: $237.22

★ Shadow Daggers Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.40

★ Shadow Daggers Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $144.42

★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $105.20

★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $150.46

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★ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $365.99

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $228.93

★ Navaja Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $227.43

★ Navaja Knife Slaughter (Factory New), B/O: $209.06

★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $203.16

★ Navaja Knife Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $132.57

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $121.69

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.95

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $100.41

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $369.01

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $109.95

GLOVES

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2394.67

★ Sport Gloves Omega (Well-Worn), B/O: $572.33

★ Sport Gloves Bronze Morph (Minimal Wear), B/O: $338.88

★ Sport Gloves Big Game (Field-Tested), B/O: $323.66

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★ Specialist Gloves Marble Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1652.07

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike (Field-Tested), B/O: $599.14

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web (Well-Worn), B/O: $231.57

★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot (Minimal Wear), B/O: $126.21

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★ Moto Gloves POW! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $996.99

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Field-Tested), B/O: $383.31

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Well-Worn), B/O: $276.00

★ Moto Gloves Turtle (Field-Tested), B/O: $180.28

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★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $502.29

★ Hand Wraps Giraffe (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.73

★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $178.32

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★ Driver Gloves Queen Jaguar (Minimal Wear), B/O: $181.01

★ Driver Gloves Rezan the Red (Field-Tested), B/O: $101.66

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★ Broken Fang Gloves Jade (Field-Tested), B/O: $127.88

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.55

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★ Bloodhound Gloves Guerrilla (Minimal Wear), B/O: $127.94

★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened (Field-Tested), B/O: $102.55

WEAPONS

AK-47 X-Ray (Well-Worn), B/O: $478.95

AUG Hot Rod (Factory New), B/O: $425.83

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Hyper Beast (Factory New), B/O: $413.95

M4A4 Daybreak (Factory New), B/O: $309.51

StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge (Factory New), B/O: $305.43

AK-47 Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $196.38

StatTrak™ M4A4 Temukau (Minimal Wear), B/O: $174.64

P90 Run and Hide (Field-Tested), B/O: $167.03

AWP Asiimov (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.33

Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike (Minimal Wear), B/O: $140.00

M4A1-S Printstream (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.70

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Golden Coil (Field-Tested), B/O: $117.48

AWP Asiimov (Well-Worn), B/O: $115.97

StatTrak™ Desert Eagle Printstream (Minimal Wear), B/O: $112.96

StatTrak™ AK-47 Asiimov (Minimal Wear), B/O: $110.85

Souvenir M4A1-S Master Piece (Well-Worn), B/O: $102.42

AK-47 Bloodsport (Minimal Wear), B/O: $100.53

Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory

Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Wicked Sick, Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Ramese's Reach, Umbral Rabbit, Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Apep's Curse, Re.built, Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Mummy's Rot, Rebel, Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Banana Cannon, Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Fragments, Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Black Nile, Duality, Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Steel Delta, Head Shot, Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Waters of Nephthys, Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Eye of Horus, Temukau, Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Emphorosaur-S, Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Cyberforce, Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (ScaraB Rush, Neoqueen, Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Sakkaku, Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Wild Child, Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Featherweight, Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Liquidation, Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Sobek's Bite, Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Copper Coated, Insomnia, Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - Factory New (FN), Minimal Wear (MW), Field-Tested (FT), Well-Worn (WW), Battle-Scarred (BS), Stickers Holo/Foil/Gold - Katowice 2014, Krakow 2017, Howling Dawn, Katowice 2015, Crown, London 2018, Cologne 2014, Boston 2018, Atlanta 2017, Cluj-Napoca 2015, DreamHack 2014, King on the Field, Harp of War, Winged Difuser, Cologne 2016, Cologne 2015, MLG Columbus 2016, Katowice 2019, Berlin 2019, RMR 2020, Stockholm 2021, Antwerp 2022, Paris 2023, Swag Foil, Flammable foil, Others - Souvenirs, Agents, Pins, Passes, Gifts, Music Kits, Cases, Keys, Capsules, Packages, Patches

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For some context I work in collections and I am assigned a list of delinquent accounts to work each month. I use an Excel sheet to track my list and color code if it cleared or if I still need to do more work to it. One area I track is how many days past due the accounts are so I know which is higher risk. Right now I am manually updating the days past due column each time I enter an account, problem is i don't hit each account every single day so it might say 70 days but actually it's now 83 because I haven't worked that one recently. Ultimately I want it to go up 1 each day automatically so I know it's accurate and I can just sort the list as needed. The list typically has around 130 accounts so it's not just 1 cell.
Now I don't really know anything about formulating Excel so if you could dumb it down I'd appreciate it!!! Thanks in advance!

I'm struggling to communicate with my partner about why there's so much conflict in our household at the moment. She's so caught up in trying to enforce the boundaries that she wants there to be around mealtimes, bedtimes, schoolwork and conduct that she keeps riding roughshod over the thoughts, ideas and desires that our five year old and two year old are trying to express. It leaves them feeling hurt and anxious, especially the older one, who's acting out in many challenging ways, making the enforcing of those boundaries more difficult, making her feel less in control and so clamp down harder. It's a vicious cycle that I'm trying to help get us out of, but I'm having difficulty expressing all of this in a way that feels constructive, mainly because trying to talk about it when we're both stressed from all that's happened gets our backs up.
Could anyone point me in the direction of some videos, shows, clips, blogs or the like they have this theme? About understanding their desires to play, to feel in control, and all the impossibleness about fairness, jealousy and rivalry between siblings, and giving validation and showing respect to their individuality when those things conflict with the logistic needs of the household.
And if that doesn't make any sense I'd appreciate being set straight!

I went into my general practitioner for something unrelated to Ehlers Danlos. I was concerned about it but the first issue was more important and I didn’t want to run out of time so I was going to discuss it with her at a later appointment. While she was checking my heartbeat she informed me I had a slight murmur and so I informed her about my hyper mobility in case it was related. She came right out with “you probably have Ehlers Danlos Syndrome” which surprised and relieved me because I’ve heard horror stories about trying to get diagnosed. She went and got the criteria sheet and ran down it with me. I passed that one with flying colors 9/9 on the beighton test, all the fun things. I was really really happy with how knowledgeable my doctor was and happy to finally have a diagnosis. Obviously having EDS Isn’t a good thing but I’m happy to have answers and have my suspicions confirmed. I have imaging scheduled at the local hospital to look into the murmur and a follow up appointment that I need to schedule with my doctor.

As much as I enjoy Generator Rex I have often wondered if there are any fanfics that addresses one or more of the following flaws/plot holes:

• The use of EVOS as a mutant metaphor. As much as I dislike Hunter Caine bigotry, people's fears about EVOs seem pretty well founded given their aggressive behavior and their tendency to attack humans and rampage through towns/cities. With the exception of the Night Falls episode (a subtle commentary on humane confinement), I never quite understood the show's attempts to use EVOs as metaphor for disadvantaged people or in Green Fist's case as wild/endangered animals who deserve to roam free in their habitat.
• Rex/Circe's relationship. As I have said before I have never quite understood people's fascination with Dating Catwoman romances. Such relationships are unhealthy, unprofessional, and unsustainable. And frankly I never understood Rex's attraction to Circe given her lack of concern for the lives of innocent people.
• The reveal that Providence was being privately funded by the Consortium rather than being publicly funded by the UN, the WHO, the USA, EU, etc. I never quite understood the whole deal with the Consortium being the ones to run the organization. I mean given that EVOs were a global issue you would think that the world governments and organizations would put more funding and oversight over the organization designed to deal with them. What's more baffling is that not once in its 6-7 years of its existence have people questioned where Providence got its money from or who White Knight really answered to.
• I know this is a work of fiction, but I was never a big fan of the main characters do everything trope. I never understood why Providence would send Rex on assignments that seem to be a waste of his abilities, or ones he seems inadequately prepared for. I mean it doesn't make sense why Providence would want to endanger their number one weapon against EVOS (Ex: The Forgotten, Lost Weekend, Outpost).
• How did Van Kleiss reactivate his nanites and uncure himself? -Pretty self-explanatory. I mean not once is any explanation given on how Van Kleiss managed to come back as powerful as ever.
• Who are the "Before" No Face keeps talking about?
• Breach, Biowulf, and Jungle Cat's backstories. - Who were they before they became EVOs and how did they come to work for Van Kleiss?
• In my opinion I think Rex's old gang could have been more useful as Providence agents and helping out in the War against EVOs instead of hanging around Hong Kong doing nothing.
• In fact I think that the following characters: Kenwyn Jones, Noah, Beverly Holiday (post-cure), Fives, ZAG-RS, and Abuela all got a raw deal and they deserve an expanded role in the story. For example, Kenwyn Jones could serve as the Gwen to Rex's Ben to try and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. And Noah should have gotten more combat training to help Rex out in the field instead of being demoted to extra from Season 2 onwards.
• And speaking of ZAG-RS, it is never fully addressed on what happened to her. Does she play a role in Cesar's reactivated Nanite Project? Is she deactivated for good?
• On top of that why didn't Rex investigate whether or not Cesar really did cause the nanite event after the events of Written in the Sand?
• Give the Providence soldiers a level in badass. - I mean I know these guys were written as redshirts but you would think that after all that training, they could do a better job at handling EVOs. Heck they can't even handle a couple of desert bandits.

The world was a boozy whirl of lights and sounds. Images, broken and fragmented, came and went. Voices, laughter, screaming. The ground pitched like the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and he felt heavy, as though the ground were pulling him to it. C’mere, Dommy. He fell, lay on the pavement, and pushed himself up again, staggering like a drunk on his way home. His head spun, his body ached, and things seemed blurry, like half-formed images glimpsed underwater.
It was the light blue hour before dawn and Dom was…somewhere. He should have recognized the stores and street signs around him, but he didn’t. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a sense of confusion gripped him so strongly that he was beginning to panic. Where was he? What happened?
The world spun away again and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a heap of garbage bags, used needles, and rubbish. He came awake with a jerk and sat up so fast that a bolt of pain jammed into his skull. He winced and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt hot, clammy.
Something was seriously wrong.
Somehow he got to his feet again and started walking. The sun was up now and the streets were filled with people. They all sneered in disgust as he passed, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like a baby comforting itself. He was getting cold. His muscles were sore. Tears streamed down his face and he wanted to cry.
Going on instinct alone, Dom made his way back home and climbed the steps to his apartment. Exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against the door as he dug in his pocket for the keys. They shook in his hand and he had to focus really hard to get the key into the lock.
Inside, he collapsed onto the couch and his eyelids instantly drooped. He was so weary that he couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Dom felt himself starting to sink, and snapped his eyes open with a start. Something in his soul told him that if he slept, he would die.
He couldn’t help it, though. He was falling, tumbling, hands reaching up from hell to grab him. His eyes fluttered closed again and the world started to go dark, his heart slamming in fear. He tried to fight, but the pull of darkness was too strong, too alluring. Why was he fighting? Why not just…give up? Hadn’t he thought of killing himself before? Didn’t he hate his life and himself? What was there to fight for? A wife? Kids? A community that loved and respected him? Shit, affordable groceries?
No.
There was nothing.
He had nothing and was nothing.
A sense of peace blossomed from the darkness, and suddenly death didn’t seem so scary. In fact, it was warm…inviting.
It was life that was cold and hateful. Not death.
Death accepted you no matter who you were. It didn’t reject you…it didn’t ignore you. If you sought it, you would find it, and if you embraced it, it would embrace you.
With that thought in mind, Dom gave up.
And died.
***
Bruce Kenner, captain of the 5th Albany precinct, sat behind his desk on the morning of June 28 and lazily leafed through a stack of files as he sipped from a mug of coffee. A roughly built man with a dark goatee and graying blonde hair, he looked more like a small town southern sheriff than a low level public works functionary. In fact, he tended to act like it too. He liked to hunt, fish, and drink beer on his off time. Albany wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough that you never got a fucking break. Run here, run there, arrest this asshole, investigate that asshole. By the time Friday rolled around, he was so ready for the peace and tranquility of a fishing trip he could taste it.
Already this Monday morning, he was looking forward to another one.
Over the weekend, three kids went missing in the Pine Hills and Washington Park area, bringing the total for that summer up to eight. All were teenagers, all were troubled. Most were boys, but two were girls.
Troubled kids run away all the time. They might be gone a few days, sulking at a friend’s house over something their father or mother did, but they’d eventually come home. None of these kids had come back yet and from what he knew, a few of them weren’t the runaway types. They were shits at school and caused problems, but they had no reason to up and leave. Hell, Bruce himself raised hell as a kid, but he always found his way back home, even if he spent the previous night dying in a field from Mad Dogg 20/20 poisoning.
One or two kids going missing…okay, it happens. Eight? Over a span of four weeks?
Yeah, something was wrong here.
But what?
There was nothing on any of these kids. No one saw them, no one knew anything - one minute they were here, the next they weren’t. What could he or anyone else do with that?. The public broke cops’ balls all the time, but if you don’t have evidence, you don’t have evidence. What do you want? Door to door searches? Roadblocks? Dogs and helicopters? Yeah, then when you actually do it, they cry fascism. Guess I’ll just use my Spidey Senses.
Bruce wished he had spidey senses. He wanted to find these kids as much as anyone, and he was starting to get pissed off that he couldn’t. He took another sip from his mug and read on. The latest kids to go missing were three boys between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.
They were all white, all thin (except for one). If there was a serial killer in town - and Bruce hoped to fuck there wasn’t - he had a type. What, black kids aren’t good enough to kill, cannibalize, and wear like a skin suit? They should charge him with a hate crime for discrimination.
That way he’d actually stay locked up.
The door opened and Vanessa Rodregiez, his deputy, came in. A tall, shapely Hispanic woman with dark eyes and a mouth poised always on the edge of a smile, she wore her black hair in a ponytail that would look stern and severe on anyone else, but on her, looked childlike. She was twenty-seven and had been on the force for three years, but you could be forgiven for thinking her much younger. “Bright and early, I see,” she said with a grin.
Bruce grumbled.
Vanessa held down the fort during the graveyard shift, acting to the night as he acted to the day. She was young and full of energy, which clashed with Bruce, who was old and just wanted to be left alone. Despite their differences, Bruce loved her like a kid sister…an annoying kid sister he wanted to throat punch sometimes.
“You missed all the fun last night,” she said and parked her butt on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He glared at her, but she ignored him.
“Good,” he said. Then: “What happened?”
“Big fight outside of Club Vlad,” she said. “It looked like a WorldStar video.”
For a moment, Bruce was lost. “Club what?”
“Club Vlad,” Vanessa said. “Where the Fuze Box used to be.”
Ah, right. The Fuze Box was an Albany landmark, a night club for punks…or goths…or someone. Certainly not for Bruce Kenner. It was small, dingy, and always had people in black waiting outside. On Friday and Saturday nights, it blasted strange music with lyrics about fighting The Man. Kids had been fighting the Man since before Bruce was even born and they hadn’t beaten him yet. Kudos to them for still trying.
Last year, The Fuze Box closed down and someone else bought it. It reopened last month and looked more or less the same: Posers, shitty music, and spiked hair. So much spiked hair. “Place is still a pain in the ass,” Bruce said.
“Yep,” Vanessa chirped. “It doesn’t know what it wants to be now. One minute they play nightcore, the next EDM. It’s all over the place.”
Bruce raised a quizzical brow.
“Not that I’ve ever been there in my free time,” Vanessa said in a tone that suggested she had,
Bruce gave a judgemental hum.
“Anyway,” Vanessa went on, “you see we have some new missing persons?”
Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I did.”
“People are starting to ask questions,” Vanessa warned.
That brought a terse smile to Bruce’s weathered face. “Maybe they’ll solve it then.”
“Ha, fat chance,” Vanessa said. She got up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m bushed. Here’s my…” she trailed off and looked at her empty hands. “Damn, where’s my report? I just had it?” She turned in a confused circle as if she might be able to spot her report making a break for it. “Huh,” she said. She left the office and came back a moment later holding a folder. “Found it,” she grinned.
Bruce just looked at her.
“Um…here it is.”
He didn’t take it.
Her smile faltered. She carefully sat it on top of the files Bruce was looking at.
And his hands.
“I’ll just leave that right here.” She patted it for good measure.
“Thank you,” Bruce said.
“Okay. Night.”
“Goodnight,” Bruce said as she left through a shaft of morning sunlight. Alone, Bruce sat her report aside and went back to the missing kids. This case was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even nine. With a deep sigh, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the armrests.
Was it Saturday yet?
He could really use a fishing trip.
***
Dom came awake in the cold purple twilight with a shocked gasp like a man coming up seconds before drowning. His eyes strained from his sweaty face and his mouth hung slack, twisted in a gruesome parody of The Scream. His mind was muddled, murky - he didn’t know where he was or even who he was, but he knew this,.
He couldn’t breathe.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but his lungs did not fill with air. A great, unseen weight seemed to bear down on his chest, and panic gripped him. He tried to move, but his arms refused to heed his brain’s command. The weight seemed heavier, all over, crushing him like a bug. Confusion filled him and he started to pant.
Without warning, his bowels and bladder loosened, and horrible wetness filled his pants. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His chest rose and fell with the frantic labor of his breath, but his lungs remained inert. A cry of fear bubbled up inside of him, but escaped his mouth only as a breathy groan.
A bust of adrenaline shot through him and he tried to stand, but succeeded only in falling off the couch instead, landing face first against the cold tile floor. He felt his nose crunch, but the pain was muted.
Dom thought he lost consciousness after that, but wasn’t sure. His next memory was of shivering so violently that his teeth clacked together. A phantom chill - perhaps from the floor - had settled into his bones, and was colder than he had ever been in his life, colder even than the time he fell into a snowbank and got lost when he was two. Shudders racked his body, and though he tried to turn over, he was too fucking heavy. It was like every muscle in his body had turned to dead weight. Fragmented thoughts swirled in his head, faint colors in the dark, but he couldn’t put any of them together.
With great effort, he managed to push himself slightly up, but a wave of lightheadedness crashed over him and he lowered his head once more. He stopped trying and simply lay there. Shortly, his eyes began to burn and he realized that he wasn’t blinking. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t blinking.
For some strange reason, that brought a fresh bout of panic. He started to hyperventilate, but his lungs still wouldn’t work. He wasn’t blinking…he wasn’t breathing…what was happening to him?
A whimper burst from his throat and he started to cry.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because he woke sometime later to the most intense headache he’d ever had. It felt like something was eating his brain from the inside out. He was sore all over, and could feel his muscles twitching, as though a thousand living things were burrowing through his body. A cramp shot down his right leg, and the toes of his left foot curled involuntarily. Slowly, his jaw clenched closed, and the muscles in his neck began to strain…then to burn. His panic turned to terror, and Dom wiggled across the floor like a worm, his limbs screaming in red agony and his brain filling with heat. He somehow wound up on his right side, and his arms curled slowly up to his chest, crossing at the wrists like a mummy. He tried to pull them apart, but the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain cutting through his body. His knees began to draw up to his stomach, and his fingers clenched tightly.
Cramps and spasms attacked every muscle in his body. He screamed through his teeth and shook, resembling a man in the electric chair as 40,000 volts of justice coursed through him. The pain grew gradually, getting worse and worse as minutes ticked by like hours. Higher, higher, higher - he clenched his eyes closed and shrieked as it became unbearable. Disjointed thoughts flashed through his mind - prayers, threats, curses, Jesus fucking…FUCK.
What was happening? God, what was happening to him? Was it fentanyl? He’d seen videos of people high on fentanyl, and they leaned in weird positions. He didn’t do drugs but maybe he ingested it somehow.
His panic may have returned if all of his muscles hadn’t picked that moment to contract as one. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his jaw unclenched just enough for him to utter a high. Agonized scream that echoed through his empty apartment like thunder.
A human being can only take so much before giving out. When the pain reached a crescendo, and Dom mercifully sank into consciousness once more. The sun rose and cascaded through the apartment’s sole window, falling over his huddled form. Slowly, it tracked across the sky before setting again. As the last rays disappeared behind the horizon, Dom’s eyes opened. The pain of the night before was blessedly gone, replaced by a feeling of numbness - the cool ash after the hot fire. His thoughts were slow and thick like molasses, but he could actually think again. Nightmare memories flooded back to him, but he wasn’t sure they were real. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around his chest as if for warmth, and his teeth lightly chattered against the icy chill. He was so cold that he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay here forever. He needed help. He needed…
A shower.
Yeah, a hot shower. That would warm him up.
Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up, ready for a burst of pain.
But none came.
He did, however, feel heavy. Getting to his feet, he stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the counter. His limbs had no feeling. It’s like they weren’t even there. Head hung, Dom tried to catch his breath, but it felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. His eyelids drooped closed and he felt like he was going to fall down. Summoning all the might he could, he shuffled into the bathroom with the stiff gait of an old man. He snapped the light on, and cold, white brilliance filled the space, blinding him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he gripped the cold porcelain. Suddenly, he was afraid of looking into the mirror. He was sure that whatever reflection he saw, it would be of something else, something monstrous.
Dom lifted his head and faced the glass.
His heart shrank.
The man in the mirror was him but different. His skin was white as milk, lacking all color whatsoever save for the ugly purple patch on the left side. IResembling a giant bruise, it started at the temple and extended down to the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath his T-shirt. He gingerly lifted the shirt, and moaned when he saw that his entire left side was discolored, the purple edged with a puffy shade of pink. His sallow skin clung tight to his ribcage, and his hip bones stuck out so much it looked painful. Back in the mirror, his cheeks were sunken, hollow, and his eyes were a hazy, dishwater gray. His skull seemed bigger, his hair longer. Dom wanted to whip his head away from the phantom before him, to never see it again, but he was transfixed.
There was no way that thing was -
Dom looked away, cutting that thought off before it could finish.
A shower.
He needed a shower.
Slowly, stiffly, Dom undressed, peeling off his shirt and his soiled pants. He dropped them in a heap on the floor and stepped under the spray. He could feel the water pounding against him, but it provided no heat. It was neither hot nor cold. It was simply there.
Dom pressed his head to the slick shower wall and stood there for a long time. He was spent, tired, and fried - he had no more emotions left to give. He got out after a little while, dried off, and put on a clean pair of shorts. He settled into bed and lay there with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes open. They felt gritty, dry. His stomach felt bloated, gassy. He was drowsy now, the weight of the past two days (or was it two weeks?) coming down on him all at once. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He was still asleep - but aware - when the knocking on his door started the next morning. Time was funny in this state of being, fast and jerky but also slow and echoing. Keys rattled the knob turned. The landlord came in with a cop. They saw him on the bed, laid out like a corpse for a viewing, and the cop radioed in a code 35. Soon, cops were all around him, making noise and touching things. He had the vague sense of discomfort and embarrassment at the intrusion. A baling man in a suit stood over him, a cop who looked like a redneck beside him. “He didn’t die here,” the medical examiner said.
The cop looked at him questioningly. Dom caught the name KENNER on his name tag.
“See this?” the M.E. said and gestured to Dom’s face. “That’s livor mortis. When you die, your blood pools at the lowest point. If you’re on your left side, for example, it pools on the left.”
Kenner looked at Dom and then back to the M.E. “Someone moved him?”
“Looks like it,” the M.E. said.
“When did he die?”
The M.E. examined Dom as though he were nothing more than a side of beef. “At a glance? Three days. I won’t have a better answer until I open him up.”
Dom was still awake when they put him into a body bag and zipped it up. He felt a stirring of fear beneath the cold numbness, but he was too tired to worry about it now.
Later, he thought.
He would panic later.
For now, Dom slept.

"Himiko?" Kokichi knocked on the door to Himiko and Tenko's room later that night. Himiko had taken a long nap after such a disappointing day. But, before she fell asleep, she reflected deeply on what Kokichi had told her. She had to admit that he was right, that she needed to a better attitude about herself. But, how to do that, she didn't know. She suddenly remembered his words: You should be smart, confident, and capable of doing things your way. Her way? What was her way, exactly?
"Himiko?" Kokichi whispered a little louder. Himiko opened her eyes, hearing Kokichi calling out to her. She scrambled out of bed and went over to answer the door. Kokichi smiled at her with his usual cheeky grin. "Hey, sleepyhead! Are you still planning on selling cookies?" Himiko took a deep breath and nodded. Kokichi had given her some courage to actually try things and take chances, to try and overcome self-doubt.
"Yeah. I'm ready," she said. There was still a part of her that didn't want to, but she forced that part of her into silence. She lifted her chin and smiled at him. "I'm ready, Kokichi." Kokichi smiled back at her.
"Alright, Monkey Buns!" he cheered, giving her a high five and then a hug. "Same place?"
"Alright," Himiko nodded. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. She remembered what Kokichi had told her earlier about being smart and confident her way. "But, on the way over there, can we stop by my, um..." She paused to whisper. "...secret lair? "
"Ooooh?" Kokichi murmured with a curious smile. "Yeah, we can stop by." Himiko nodded and retreated back into her room to grab the two tin bowls of cookies she had baked with Three and Ten.
"Nyeh...okay, I'm ready," Himiko said. Kokichi took her hand in his, and the two crept downstairs. Some of the others were still in the dining room eating dinner, so Kokichi and Himiko had to leave through the front door to get to Himiko's secret magic room under the gazebo. Kokichi stood outside to keep watch while Himiko went inside her magic room. Once inside, she went for her magical dream powder bottle and poured some of its purple, sparkly contents into a small vial, hiding it in one of her jacket's pockets. Then, she met back up with Kokichi.
"Now I'm ready," she said.
"Okie-dokie!" Kokichi replied, taking the tin bowls from Himiko to hold them for her. "Let's go, HimikoCocoa Bean!" They then hurried over to D.I.C.E. headquarters.
"Boss!" Four said, jumping up from the couch. "And Boss Lady!"
"Hey, Ichiro," Kokichi and Himiko replied.
"Wanna hear a song that I heard on the radio?" Four asked. He cleared his throat, and began singing without waiting for a response. "If you like piña coladaaaaas, and getting caught in the rai-"
"Okay, Ichiro, that's enough," Kokichi interrupted, wincing from Four's terrible voice.
"Urgh...thank you!" Five exclaimed as she wrapped Kokichi's cape around him. After Three placed Kokichi's hat on his head, she turned to Himiko.
"So, Himiko, did you sell a lot of cookies?" she asked eagerly. Himiko gave her an apologetic look and shook her head. Three's shoulders slumped.
"Oh..." she said softly.
"What? Why?" Ten asked. "Did they not like them? Because I put all my blood, sweat, and tears into those things! Er...well, not literally...duh."
"Yeah, I hope not!" Two exclaimed, sticking his tongue out in disgust. "I bet there are people in this world who actually do stuff like that!"
"Nee-heehee...I know a very horny someone who'd do something like that," Kokichi said.
"The tin bowls are still so full!" Three said, her voice dripping with disappointment.
"It's not really the cookies that people didn't like, Keiko," Himiko said. "It was because of me."
"What exactly do you mean by that?" Nine asked.
"Well, I'm not really popular at school to begin with," Himiko said. "But, I wasn't really trying my best to sell them because I didn't think I could."
"Ouch," Six muttered.
"Oh, well...still!" Three huffed. "They could have at least tried your cookies, anyways! Those...those...clowns! " Then she turned to nobody in particular. "No offense, me," she mumbled to herself before turning back to Himiko.
"Hey, no offense to the rest of us, either!" Four said.
"Should we take offense?" Nine asked. "It's not like we're actual professional clow-"
"We get it, Hideyo!" everyone but Himiko interrupted simultaneously.
"Nyeh, well...anyways, thanks to Kokichi, I've decided to try again," Himiko said, giving Kokichi a shy smile.
"Aww, HimiCocoa Bean, you're making me blush!" Kokichi teased, wrapping his arm around her waist. "But, I only get half the credit. You should give yourself credit, too!"
"And you should give us those cookies," Four said, pointing to the tin bowls in Kokichi's hand.
"Himiko, are you still going to sell these?" Kokichi asked. Himiko thought for a moment. She remembered what Tsumugi said about chocolate chip cookies being plain and boring.
"No," she finally answered. "Actually, I've decided to go with Ten's plan from earlier."
"Right! Um...wait, what plan was that again?" Ten asked.
"The plan to make the snickerdoodles," Himiko said.
"Oh, yeah!" Ten remembered, a grin crossing his face.
"But, I wanna add a secret ingredient of mine," Himiko said.
"I hope it's not blood, sweat, and tears," Two said, shuddering.
"Why not?" Seven asked with a creepy smile. "Don't you like that salty, metallic flavor in your cookies?"
"Ew! Yuck! Kokichi, make her stop!" Five said, covering her ears.
"Tsukiko, don't make me tell Emi to get Mr. Sparkles," Kokichi warned. Seven hid under a blanket.
"No, please. Anything but that accursed pink and plushy unicorn!" she hissed. Five grinned smugly at her.
"Can we help you bake again, Himiko?" Three asked hopefully.
"Nyeh...of course!" Himiko answered.

"Neat-o! Let's get started!" Ten said, rubbing his hands enthusiastically. Kokichi nodded to Himiko encouragingly, and she followed Three and Ten to the kitchen. They soon got started on the batter. Himiko removed the vial of dream powder from her pocket.
"Oooo! What is that stuff?" Three asked, entranced by the purple, glittery powder.
"Hopefully the thing that'll win over any potential customers," Himiko answered before pouring the powder into the mixture. She mixed the batter until it became a shiny, glittering harmony of many colors.
"Holy Constantinople-y!" Ten exclaimed. "What the heck kind of secret ingredient is that?!"
"The batter looks so...pretty!" Three breathed in awe. "It's so...shiny and sparkly!" Then, she lowered her voice. "Is this...some of your magic, Himiko?"
"Nyeh...that's right," Himiko nodded.
"I know this is might sound like a dumb question, but...are you allowed to do that?" Ten asked.
"Nobody at school knows about my magic except for Kokichi," Himiko said. "So, technically, it's not not allowed. And besides, Kokichi said that I need to be smart and confident my way. And magic is my way of doing just that."
Part Eight
Sunday afternoon. Himiko took a deep breath, deeply breathing in the warm air as a gentle breeze flowed around her. Today, she felt lucky. She stood behind her table at the front of the school. Above her was a more colorful, glittery sign she and Three had worked on with the word, "Snoozydoodles," written in swirly letters. Hopefully it would be enough to bring in some customers. Her snickerdoodles were laid out on three large trays in front of her so that the other students could see their colorful and sparkly design.
"Hiya, Himiko!" came a cheerful voice. Himiko looked up and was surprised to see Three.
"Keiko?" she whispered. "Nyeh...what are you doing here?"
"I decided to come and cheer you on...and to make sure the turd buckets here buy your cookies," Three replied. "I put some love and special care into those cookies, and I didn't bust my tail just to have nobody buy them!"
"Nyeh...but...Ten and I worked on them, too," Himiko pointed out. "And I put my 'special ingredient' in them."
"I know," Three said. "But, I feel like if I worked hard on something, either by myself or in a group, I'd like for the world to see it, that's all."
"I understand," Himiko said with a small smile. "Wait...this is supposed to be a competition between me and Kokichi! I don't think he'd appreciate you helping me out, especially since I should be doing this myself."
"Well, I'll just be here for emotional support, then!" Three said. Himiko smiled gratefully and nodded.
"I guess that's okay," she said. " Thanks, Keiko. I like your outfit, by the way." Three scanned her outfit proudly. Instead of her D.I.C.E. uniform, she wore an oversized, cream-colored fluffy sweater over a short, pink ruffled skirt. She wore a pair of white tights with some loose pink socks and a pair of black and white checkered lolita shoes with pink straps. In her hair were pink bows over each pigtail.
"Eeee! Thank you!" she squealed happily. "It's not very often I get to go out in cutesy clothes like this, unless I'm undercover! Well...I guess you might say I'm going undercover right now, but...eh, whatever."
"Speaking of which, why are your shoes checkered?" Himiko asked. "Won't that give you away? Part of the reason why people know your organization is because of the checker pattern scarves...which makes me wonder how people haven't suspected Kokichi being part of...you-know-what."
"Heehee...I call that the 'Sailor Moon Effect,'" Three giggled. "But, anyway, when members of the organization are wearing casual clothes, we have to wear some article of clothing with a black and white checkered pattern to let other members know our affiliation. The beauty of it is that there are people not affiliated with us who wear checker patterned clothing, so it gives us a chance to blend in as if we're just regular people. That's why we have a codeword to tell the difference between members and the 'reggies.'"

"What's the codeword?" Himiko asked. Three leaned in closer to Himiko.

"'Funny business,' " she whispered.
"Nyeh...that's actually really cool," Himiko admitted with a smile.
"Yeah! You should really join, Himiko!" Three said. "I think you'll have lots of fun!"
"Fun with what?" asked Tenko, suddenly appearing with Angie and Tsumugi behind her. She had a frown on her face and marched right up to Three. "Himiko, who's this girl, and what's she trying to get you to join? WAIT!! Is this girl the friend you were talking about?! The one who helped you bake cookies yesterday?!"
"Yeah," Himiko nodded.
"Hey! I recognize you!" Angie said. "You're one of the girls who rescued Himiko from that crazy girl many months ago!" Three brightened.
"Yeah! That's me!" she said.
"Tuh...I could have rescued Himiko, you know," Tenko huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at Three.
"Well...why didn't you?" Three asked.
"Urgh...!" Tenko scoffed. "Who do you think you are?!"
"I'm Michika!" Three lied, using one of her aliases. "I'm here to support Himiko with her cookie sale!"
"She doesn't need your support," Tenko said, stepping in between Three and Himiko. "Himiko already has me! Right, Himiko?"
"Umm..." Himiko mumbled.
"Of course you do!" Tenko interrupted.
"But...you didn't even let her finish," Three said.
"I didn't have to," Tenko said. "I already knew what she was thinking because we're best friends."
"Well...then...if you're her best friend, why dont'cha buy a cookie?" Three suggested craftily.
"Hmph! I will!" Tenko scoffed and turned to Himiko. "How much for a cookie, Himiko?"
"Nyeh...same as before," Himiko answered. Tenko paid ¥500 and grabbed a shimmery, glittering light green snickerdoodle from one of the trays. "Ooo, these are pretty, Himiko! Did you bake them all by yourself?"
"No, um...Michika helped me again," Himiko answered. Tenko glared at Three and flipped her hair at her.
"Well...they're okay, then," she said haughtily. "But, they're extra special because you helped, Himiko!"
"What are these cookies called, Himiko?" Tsumugi asked, scrutinizing a glittering blue cookie.
"Nyeh...they're called 'Snoozydoodles,'" Himiko answered. "They're snickerdoodles, but a special kind of snickerdoodles."
"Oooo! Why are they called 'Snoozydoodles?'" asked Angie.
"You have to eat them right before going to sleep to find out," Himiko answered mysteriously. Tenko hovered her cookie in front of her mouth.
"Oh! So, I have to eat this right before bed?" she asked.
"That's right," Himiko nodded.
"Aw, that's so creative, Himiko!" Tenko cried in adoration. "You're really clever, too! I bet you thought of the name!" Three rolled her eyes in annoyance. Himiko provided a little baggy for Tenko to put her cookie in, and provided some for Angie and Tsumugi, as well, after they had paid for their cookies.
"Thank you, Himiko," Tsumugi said.

"Yes! Yes! Thank you, Himiko!" Angie chirped.
"Well...I guess we'd better try out the other cookies," Tsumugi said. "Everyone else said they'd have different flavors of cookies, too. Although, I don't think I'll try Kokichi's after what happened yesterday. I can plainly still feel the burn on my tongue."
"Hmm...I thought his cookies were divine!" Angie exclaimed. "I have never felt such an intense rush of heat before! Especially in a cookie!"
"Leave it up to a degenerate male to bake something so...horrible! " Tenko spat. Three raised a brow at her.
"Degenerate male?" she repeated. She didn't like hearing her boss being referred to that way.
"Yeah! Males are all scum of the Earth!" Tenko said. "Kind of like...best friend stealers."
"I wasn't trying to steal your best friend," Three said, fed up with Tenko.

"Huh...why did you assume I was talking about you? " Tenko asked. "You know what happens to people who assume things, don't you?"

"They end up knocking all 32 teeth out of the person accusing them of assuming things?" Three replied, trying to keep her cool.
"And you're violent!" Tenko shouted. "You're clearly a bad influence on Himiko!" Three stared at her in disbelief, creating an awkward silence to linger in the air.
"Well, um...I guess we should be going then," Tsumugi said, hurriedly yanking Angie away. "C'mon, Angie. Tenko? Are you coming?"

"No. I think I'll stay right here and help Himiko, since she clearly needs my support," Tenko said, glowering at Three.
"Tenko..." Himiko sighed in exasperation, but Three merely smiled sweetly at Tenko.
"Oh, my gosh! Where'd you get your outfit?" she asked. Tenko looked down quizzically at her outfit.
"W-Why...do you want to know?" she replied with suspicion.
"It's just so pretty!" Three replied. "Are you, like, the Ultimate Princess, or the Ultimate Cheerleader, or something?"
"Um...n-no...I'm the Ultimate Aikido Master," Tenko stammered as a small blush appeared on her face.
"Oh, wow! That's even better!" Three exclaimed. "I bet you give those...degenerate males...what they deserve all the time!" The hardened look on Tenko's face from before disappeared.
"You bet I do!" she said proudly.
"Oh...I wish I could be like you!" Three breathed. "You're, like, my hero! I bet you're a hero to girls everywhere!" Tenko lowered her head bashfully, blushing like crazy.
"N-No...I'm not all that...great," she sputtered.
"I bet you'd do anything for girls, huh?" Three asked.
"Oh, yes!" Tenko answered. "So long as you aren't a degenerate male, you're a friend of mine!"
Says the girl who just accused me of stealing her best friend, Three thought to herself. "Hooray! I'm happy to hear that! But...to tell you the truth, I can't believe you just ditched your other friends. They were girls, after all, and you just let them walk right into the school where they could be potential prey for those boys-er...I mean, degenerate males." Tenko gasped with realization.
"Oh, my gosh! You're so right!" she cried. "But...what about Himiko?"
"I'll look after her," Three said. "You trust me, right? I am a girl after all."
"Ohhh...well, okay," Tenko said. Then, she smiled. "I'll trust you, Michika! Take care of Himiko!"
"Oh, I will!" Three said. "Bye! Goodbye!" Tenko waved goodbye, leaving Himiko and Three alone. Three exhaled. "Finally, she's gone!" Himiko stared at her in amazement.
"Nyeh...that was incredible!" she cried. Three shrugged modestly.
"Yeah, I guess I picked up a little bit of manipulation skills from the boss," she said. "He's way better at it than I am, though! That girl was so annoying, by the way! Is she seriously your best friend?!"
"Well, yeah, I guess," Himiko answered. "She wants to support and protect me all the time."
"Sounds more like she wants to breastfeed you, or wipe your butt after you poop," Three said in disgust. She and Himiko shuddered at the thought. "Well, anyways, now that 'Tin Cup' is gone, let's put you on the cookie map!"
"Right!" Himiko said, and gave Three a high five.

The world was a boozy whirl of lights and sounds. Images, broken and fragmented, came and went. Voices, laughter, screaming. The ground pitched like the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and he felt heavy, as though the ground were pulling him to it. C’mere, Dommy. He fell, lay on the pavement, and pushed himself up again, staggering like a drunk on his way home. His head spun, his body ached, and things seemed blurry, like half-formed images glimpsed underwater.
It was the light blue hour before dawn and Dom was…somewhere. He should have recognized the stores and street signs around him, but he didn’t. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a sense of confusion gripped him so strongly that he was beginning to panic. Where was he? What happened?
The world spun away again and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a heap of garbage bags, used needles, and rubbish. He came awake with a jerk and sat up so fast that a bolt of pain jammed into his skull. He winced and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt hot, clammy.
Something was seriously wrong.
Somehow he got to his feet again and started walking. The sun was up now and the streets were filled with people. They all sneered in disgust as he passed, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like a baby comforting itself. He was getting cold. His muscles were sore. Tears streamed down his face and he wanted to cry.
Going on instinct alone, Dom made his way back home and climbed the steps to his apartment. Exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against the door as he dug in his pocket for the keys. They shook in his hand and he had to focus really hard to get the key into the lock.
Inside, he collapsed onto the couch and his eyelids instantly drooped. He was so weary that he couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Dom felt himself starting to sink, and snapped his eyes open with a start. Something in his soul told him that if he slept, he would die.
He couldn’t help it, though. He was falling, tumbling, hands reaching up from hell to grab him. His eyes fluttered closed again and the world started to go dark, his heart slamming in fear. He tried to fight, but the pull of darkness was too strong, too alluring. Why was he fighting? Why not just…give up? Hadn’t he thought of killing himself before? Didn’t he hate his life and himself? What was there to fight for? A wife? Kids? A community that loved and respected him? Shit, affordable groceries?
No.
There was nothing.
He had nothing and was nothing.
A sense of peace blossomed from the darkness, and suddenly death didn’t seem so scary. In fact, it was warm…inviting.
It was life that was cold and hateful. Not death.
Death accepted you no matter who you were. It didn’t reject you…it didn’t ignore you. If you sought it, you would find it, and if you embraced it, it would embrace you.
With that thought in mind, Dom gave up.
And died.
***
Bruce Kenner, captain of the 5th Albany precinct, sat behind his desk on the morning of June 28 and lazily leafed through a stack of files as he sipped from a mug of coffee. A roughly built man with a dark goatee and graying blonde hair, he looked more like a small town southern sheriff than a low level public works functionary. In fact, he tended to act like it too. He liked to hunt, fish, and drink beer on his off time. Albany wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough that you never got a fucking break. Run here, run there, arrest this asshole, investigate that asshole. By the time Friday rolled around, he was so ready for the peace and tranquility of a fishing trip he could taste it.
Already this Monday morning, he was looking forward to another one.
Over the weekend, three kids went missing in the Pine Hills and Washington Park area, bringing the total for that summer up to eight. All were teenagers, all were troubled. Most were boys, but two were girls.
Troubled kids run away all the time. They might be gone a few days, sulking at a friend’s house over something their father or mother did, but they’d eventually come home. None of these kids had come back yet and from what he knew, a few of them weren’t the runaway types. They were shits at school and caused problems, but they had no reason to up and leave. Hell, Bruce himself raised hell as a kid, but he always found his way back home, even if he spent the previous night dying in a field from Mad Dogg 20/20 poisoning.
One or two kids going missing…okay, it happens. Eight? Over a span of four weeks?
Yeah, something was wrong here.
But what?
There was nothing on any of these kids. No one saw them, no one knew anything - one minute they were here, the next they weren’t. What could he or anyone else do with that?. The public broke cops’ balls all the time, but if you don’t have evidence, you don’t have evidence. What do you want? Door to door searches? Roadblocks? Dogs and helicopters? Yeah, then when you actually do it, they cry fascism. Guess I’ll just use my Spidey Senses.
Bruce wished he had spidey senses. He wanted to find these kids as much as anyone, and he was starting to get pissed off that he couldn’t. He took another sip from his mug and read on. The latest kids to go missing were three boys between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.
They were all white, all thin (except for one). If there was a serial killer in town - and Bruce hoped to fuck there wasn’t - he had a type. What, black kids aren’t good enough to kill, cannibalize, and wear like a skin suit? They should charge him with a hate crime for discrimination.
That way he’d actually stay locked up.
The door opened and Vanessa Rodregiez, his deputy, came in. A tall, shapely Hispanic woman with dark eyes and a mouth poised always on the edge of a smile, she wore her black hair in a ponytail that would look stern and severe on anyone else, but on her, looked childlike. She was twenty-seven and had been on the force for three years, but you could be forgiven for thinking her much younger. “Bright and early, I see,” she said with a grin.
Bruce grumbled.
Vanessa held down the fort during the graveyard shift, acting to the night as he acted to the day. She was young and full of energy, which clashed with Bruce, who was old and just wanted to be left alone. Despite their differences, Bruce loved her like a kid sister…an annoying kid sister he wanted to throat punch sometimes.
“You missed all the fun last night,” she said and parked her butt on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He glared at her, but she ignored him.
“Good,” he said. Then: “What happened?”
“Big fight outside of Club Vlad,” she said. “It looked like a WorldStar video.”
For a moment, Bruce was lost. “Club what?”
“Club Vlad,” Vanessa said. “Where the Fuze Box used to be.”
Ah, right. The Fuze Box was an Albany landmark, a night club for punks…or goths…or someone. Certainly not for Bruce Kenner. It was small, dingy, and always had people in black waiting outside. On Friday and Saturday nights, it blasted strange music with lyrics about fighting The Man. Kids had been fighting the Man since before Bruce was even born and they hadn’t beaten him yet. Kudos to them for still trying.
Last year, The Fuze Box closed down and someone else bought it. It reopened last month and looked more or less the same: Posers, shitty music, and spiked hair. So much spiked hair. “Place is still a pain in the ass,” Bruce said.
“Yep,” Vanessa chirped. “It doesn’t know what it wants to be now. One minute they play nightcore, the next EDM. It’s all over the place.”
Bruce raised a quizzical brow.
“Not that I’ve ever been there in my free time,” Vanessa said in a tone that suggested she had,
Bruce gave a judgemental hum.
“Anyway,” Vanessa went on, “you see we have some new missing persons?”
Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I did.”
“People are starting to ask questions,” Vanessa warned.
That brought a terse smile to Bruce’s weathered face. “Maybe they’ll solve it then.”
“Ha, fat chance,” Vanessa said. She got up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m bushed. Here’s my…” she trailed off and looked at her empty hands. “Damn, where’s my report? I just had it?” She turned in a confused circle as if she might be able to spot her report making a break for it. “Huh,” she said. She left the office and came back a moment later holding a folder. “Found it,” she grinned.
Bruce just looked at her.
“Um…here it is.”
He didn’t take it.
Her smile faltered. She carefully sat it on top of the files Bruce was looking at.
And his hands.
“I’ll just leave that right here.” She patted it for good measure.
“Thank you,” Bruce said.
“Okay. Night.”
“Goodnight,” Bruce said as she left through a shaft of morning sunlight. Alone, Bruce sat her report aside and went back to the missing kids. This case was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even nine. With a deep sigh, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the armrests.
Was it Saturday yet?
He could really use a fishing trip.
***
Dom came awake in the cold purple twilight with a shocked gasp like a man coming up seconds before drowning. His eyes strained from his sweaty face and his mouth hung slack, twisted in a gruesome parody of The Scream. His mind was muddled, murky - he didn’t know where he was or even who he was, but he knew this,.
He couldn’t breathe.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but his lungs did not fill with air. A great, unseen weight seemed to bear down on his chest, and panic gripped him. He tried to move, but his arms refused to heed his brain’s command. The weight seemed heavier, all over, crushing him like a bug. Confusion filled him and he started to pant.
Without warning, his bowels and bladder loosened, and horrible wetness filled his pants. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His chest rose and fell with the frantic labor of his breath, but his lungs remained inert. A cry of fear bubbled up inside of him, but escaped his mouth only as a breathy groan.
A bust of adrenaline shot through him and he tried to stand, but succeeded only in falling off the couch instead, landing face first against the cold tile floor. He felt his nose crunch, but the pain was muted.
Dom thought he lost consciousness after that, but wasn’t sure. His next memory was of shivering so violently that his teeth clacked together. A phantom chill - perhaps from the floor - had settled into his bones, and was colder than he had ever been in his life, colder even than the time he fell into a snowbank and got lost when he was two. Shudders racked his body, and though he tried to turn over, he was too fucking heavy. It was like every muscle in his body had turned to dead weight. Fragmented thoughts swirled in his head, faint colors in the dark, but he couldn’t put any of them together.
With great effort, he managed to push himself slightly up, but a wave of lightheadedness crashed over him and he lowered his head once more. He stopped trying and simply lay there. Shortly, his eyes began to burn and he realized that he wasn’t blinking. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t blinking.
For some strange reason, that brought a fresh bout of panic. He started to hyperventilate, but his lungs still wouldn’t work. He wasn’t blinking…he wasn’t breathing…what was happening to him?
A whimper burst from his throat and he started to cry.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because he woke sometime later to the most intense headache he’d ever had. It felt like something was eating his brain from the inside out. He was sore all over, and could feel his muscles twitching, as though a thousand living things were burrowing through his body. A cramp shot down his right leg, and the toes of his left foot curled involuntarily. Slowly, his jaw clenched closed, and the muscles in his neck began to strain…then to burn. His panic turned to terror, and Dom wiggled across the floor like a worm, his limbs screaming in red agony and his brain filling with heat. He somehow wound up on his right side, and his arms curled slowly up to his chest, crossing at the wrists like a mummy. He tried to pull them apart, but the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain cutting through his body. His knees began to draw up to his stomach, and his fingers clenched tightly.
Cramps and spasms attacked every muscle in his body. He screamed through his teeth and shook, resembling a man in the electric chair as 40,000 volts of justice coursed through him. The pain grew gradually, getting worse and worse as minutes ticked by like hours. Higher, higher, higher - he clenched his eyes closed and shrieked as it became unbearable. Disjointed thoughts flashed through his mind - prayers, threats, curses, Jesus fucking…FUCK.
What was happening? God, what was happening to him? Was it fentanyl? He’d seen videos of people high on fentanyl, and they leaned in weird positions. He didn’t do drugs but maybe he ingested it somehow.
His panic may have returned if all of his muscles hadn’t picked that moment to contract as one. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his jaw unclenched just enough for him to utter a high. Agonized scream that echoed through his empty apartment like thunder.
A human being can only take so much before giving out. When the pain reached a crescendo, and Dom mercifully sank into consciousness once more. The sun rose and cascaded through the apartment’s sole window, falling over his huddled form. Slowly, it tracked across the sky before setting again. As the last rays disappeared behind the horizon, Dom’s eyes opened. The pain of the night before was blessedly gone, replaced by a feeling of numbness - the cool ash after the hot fire. His thoughts were slow and thick like molasses, but he could actually think again. Nightmare memories flooded back to him, but he wasn’t sure they were real. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around his chest as if for warmth, and his teeth lightly chattered against the icy chill. He was so cold that he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay here forever. He needed help. He needed…
A shower.
Yeah, a hot shower. That would warm him up.
Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up, ready for a burst of pain.
But none came.
He did, however, feel heavy. Getting to his feet, he stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the counter. His limbs had no feeling. It’s like they weren’t even there. Head hung, Dom tried to catch his breath, but it felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. His eyelids drooped closed and he felt like he was going to fall down. Summoning all the might he could, he shuffled into the bathroom with the stiff gait of an old man. He snapped the light on, and cold, white brilliance filled the space, blinding him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he gripped the cold porcelain. Suddenly, he was afraid of looking into the mirror. He was sure that whatever reflection he saw, it would be of something else, something monstrous.
Dom lifted his head and faced the glass.
His heart shrank.
The man in the mirror was him but different. His skin was white as milk, lacking all color whatsoever save for the ugly purple patch on the left side. IResembling a giant bruise, it started at the temple and extended down to the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath his T-shirt. He gingerly lifted the shirt, and moaned when he saw that his entire left side was discolored, the purple edged with a puffy shade of pink. His sallow skin clung tight to his ribcage, and his hip bones stuck out so much it looked painful. Back in the mirror, his cheeks were sunken, hollow, and his eyes were a hazy, dishwater gray. His skull seemed bigger, his hair longer. Dom wanted to whip his head away from the phantom before him, to never see it again, but he was transfixed.
There was no way that thing was -
Dom looked away, cutting that thought off before it could finish.
A shower.
He needed a shower.
Slowly, stiffly, Dom undressed, peeling off his shirt and his soiled pants. He dropped them in a heap on the floor and stepped under the spray. He could feel the water pounding against him, but it provided no heat. It was neither hot nor cold. It was simply there.
Dom pressed his head to the slick shower wall and stood there for a long time. He was spent, tired, and fried - he had no more emotions left to give. He got out after a little while, dried off, and put on a clean pair of shorts. He settled into bed and lay there with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes open. They felt gritty, dry. His stomach felt bloated, gassy. He was drowsy now, the weight of the past two days (or was it two weeks?) coming down on him all at once. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He was still asleep - but aware - when the knocking on his door started the next morning. Time was funny in this state of being, fast and jerky but also slow and echoing. Keys rattled the knob turned. The landlord came in with a cop. They saw him on the bed, laid out like a corpse for a viewing, and the cop radioed in a code 35. Soon, cops were all around him, making noise and touching things. He had the vague sense of discomfort and embarrassment at the intrusion. A baling man in a suit stood over him, a cop who looked like a redneck beside him. “He didn’t die here,” the medical examiner said.
The cop looked at him questioningly. Dom caught the name KENNER on his name tag.
“See this?” the M.E. said and gestured to Dom’s face. “That’s livor mortis. When you die, your blood pools at the lowest point. If you’re on your left side, for example, it pools on the left.”
Kenner looked at Dom and then back to the M.E. “Someone moved him?”
“Looks like it,” the M.E. said.
“When did he die?”
The M.E. examined Dom as though he were nothing more than a side of beef. “At a glance? Three days. I won’t have a better answer until I open him up.”
Dom was still awake when they put him into a body bag and zipped it up. He felt a stirring of fear beneath the cold numbness, but he was too tired to worry about it now.
Later, he thought.
He would panic later.
For now, Dom slept.