The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.

SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS NUMEROLOGY DECODE

Since we all know exactly who and what Spongebob is, I am going to do a Numerology decode.
When it comes to Numerology, there are many different things you can look into. I am going to look into the letters, patterns, and Numerology personality numbers.
SPONGEBOB has a personality #6. 6 is the number of compassion, work ethic, criticism, cleanliness, and productivity. In the funny show, we see that Spongebob is a workaholic. He has a 5 destiny number which shapes who you are overall. 5 is connected to youthfulness which explains the silliness of the Spongebob character. He is always laughing and doing things funny. The 5 energy indicates this. 5 also points to people, places, and things that are unique. He has an 8 soul urge which explains his undying ambition and creativity.
We can see that SPONGEBOB has 2 O's which has the numeric energy of 15 and numeric value of 6. 15 is the creative use of energy for productivity. Again, 6 is the number of routine, work ethic and productivity goes with this. This energy is not only his personality number, but also it is within his name. It's really in him.
SPONGEBOB HAS DOUBLE NUMERIC VALUES IN HIS NAME WHICH ARE, 7,6,5, AND 2. This explains why he is able to show his emotions and have moments of sensitivity(2). Very compassionate(2) but also childish and silly(5) and able to come up with plans that work(7). Since these #s has double influence, we must considered what they equal. 7 twice equals 14/5 which shows how he is responsible and can make work fun even though it is a duty(6). 6 twice equals 12/3 which shows his social skills, life, and creativity. Another youthful energy as well. 5 twice equals 10/1 which points to his bravery and capability to take action. 2 twice equals 4 which is home,family,responsibility, and structure on the home front and he would make everyone feel comfortable for the most part.
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​
​

A book I custom binded came in bent and torn through delivery, even though I had properly packed it with bubble wrap. I got a letter from USPS saying to bring it to a post office for inspection. The problem is I also need this book for my final project. Does the post office keep the item if it needs to be brought in for inspection? How long does it usually take?

Nicholas Mattison bumped his shoulder as he stretched his arms over his head, pulled back the soft pink curtain that draped over his bed like a canopy, and rubbed the sleep out of his green eyes as his bare feet met the plush carpeting of his bedroom.
If Nicholas was any more alert than his still-sleepy, bedheaded current self, he might have astutely recognized that the bed was a little too small for his lanky frame, or recalled that the bed in his freshman dorm definitely didn't have lacy, rose-hued canopy curtains.
The unlikely array of unfamiliar accoutrements in Nicholas' room only properly crystallized once he squinted and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, glancing around a space that resolutely wasn't his. Gone were the haphazard textbooks splayed across his desk, the guitar that had been propped against the mirror hanging on his closet door, and the laundry basket he promised himself he'd get to on Saturday morning, first thing.
Instead, Nicholas' field of view was met with walls painted a garish shade of bubblegum pink, a neat row of posters advertising pop stars he'd never heard of before, and an ornate door with a sign that read "Nick's Room" in bubble-letter script.
With a surge of panic, he pulled open the closet door, biting his lower lip with a brow-furrowing frown when he saw a walk-in selection of elegant ball gowns and starchy-frilled ballerina tutus.
Where WAS he?
**
Hello! Thanks for reading a silly prompt. I wanted to leave it mysterious so we can fill in some blanks together, but the gist of the prompt is this: Our protagonist discovers that, one way or another, he's found himself living in (read: trapped) a dollhouse. Like the post's title says, a daring escape ensues!
And that brings us to your character: Who is she? A fellow college student who found herself plucked from her normal life and brought to the dollhouse? Is she a brought-to-life doll who already lives there? Is she the supervillainess/mad scientist/crazy gal who owns the dollhouse and is gleeful to have a new plaything in Nicholas? It's your call!
If you're interested, please send a message my way! I ask that you be at least 20 as well, with a knack for descriptive, detailed posts that are at least 200 words or so long. (I break Discord's character limit like it's my job, so there's no shame there!) Let me know what you think of the idea, any concepts you might have, and who you may write as a character opposite Nicholas. See you in the dollhouse soon!

Platform(s): web browser, it had its own website, It may have also been on additional sites but I know I played it on its own site.
Genre: Casual, it was a really light game, there was no specific plot as far as I'm aware, it may have been a creation style game like making characters or scenery, however I'm not certain it's been a long time so my memory is very foggy
Estimated year of release: I don't know exactly but it would've been before 2012 and I don't believe it would've been before early 2000s
Graphics/art style: 2d very cartoony a more light and cute aesthetic based game, It was very bubbly, soft and round kind of style, and the background was blue I'm fairly certain it was underwater but it may have been a sky, or it could have swapped between the two. I know that it was a light blue background and the game name was mid-upper screen in a large white bubble letter font very similar to the Poptropica font with the blue shadows and outlines but rounder.
Notable characters: all the characters were animals I don't remember there being any humans they were all just little cartoon animals, and I don't remember if you really played as a character or not
Notable gameplay mechanics: unfortunately I can't solidly remember anything about the gameplay itself, I only remember the overall style of the game and the introduction
Other details: it was a game I would play in school so there is a small chance it may have been educational however I don't think it was I'm pretty sure it was just one of the few approved non educational games, there's a chance it's an obscure Canadian game but I haven't been able to find anything about it, so it could also have been taken down, I just remember playing it between sometime between 2012ish to 2015. I remember when you go into the website the loading screen background is completely blue (a bit of a darker blue) with the white bubble font, but part of me wants to say the words were kind of cloud shaped if that makes sense. Then when It loaded it still had the name of the game in the upper part of the screen and the lighter blue background with little cartoon animals under it. Possibly relevant I want to say that the name may have been related to the words bubbles/clouds/creatures/animals/pets but that may be just words my brain is thinking are relevant just because of the style of the game.
If anyone happens to have any idea what It might be I'd appreciate it, I apologize if none of what I said makes sense I can attempt to clarify if needed, it's just a game that I occasionally remember and it's nostalgic, it just bothers me that I can't remember it.

As the world faded away into nothing but a dark void, Tom felt the only mildly familiar sensation of magic flowing like a gentle stream. It wasn’t much of a draw, but it was certainly noticeable.
“Right, best make this quick then,” he tried thinking to himself, feeling the flow peak as he did.
“Who is this? Make what quick?” an ethereal sounding female voice replied. It did sound a bit like how he remembered Joelina sounding. Though she did not exactly sound calm.
“Uhm… Hello? Anyone there?”
“Yes hello. Who is this? What must be done quick? Answer me at once!”
“It’s Tom… Is that you, Joelina?”
“Yes of course it is! Stupid dragons taking ages, I have questions for you! So many questiiioooonssss...”
“Yeah I figured that… Fire away I suppose.” Tom replied a little uncertainly as to just what he might be in for.
“Firstly! Did you read the letters?”
“I did yeah…”
“Disregard them, I have learned much since they were written! So much more yes, cursed blessed knowledge…”
“So you do know we have gone to space then?”
“What? No, I re-experienced the memory you had of the movie about the moon mission. It was evident on the second watching that it was trickery of the eye! Spaceflight is but a myth!”
“Riiight.”
“Then how have your kind visited space? And what of the gods above!? it was evident that the woman with the crystals was but a fraud!” Joelina explained with all the calm and restraint of a shoppingmall Karen
“Well the rockets to the moon, that did happen.” Tom attempted, doing his best to remain calm and diplomatic. “The movie you saw was probably a recreation… Tell me, did things go wrong on that trip but they made it home anyway?”
“Yes, do you know of what I speak? Ahr what am I proclaiming! of course you do it is your own memories, how could I forget.”
“Yea…, you watched a movie about Apollo 13 I think. Good movie, and that all happened too. Like for real happened”
“I see…” Joelina replied, sounding rather unstable. “And what of the gods?”
“We ain’t got any. Well not in space at least.”
“Impossible!”
“No, quite possible. Many still believe in gods though, but let’s not get into that too much. It’s a right old mess.”
“No, you must tell me what happened to the gods? Have they left you?”
“Well some think so, but no. I just think it all works a bit different for us. They might be a little more hands off.”
“But the churches… and these religious warriors you did battle with,” the inquisitor all but muttered to herself, sounding like she was struggling to put pieces together. “Do Jesus and Islam fight for power then? no no, they would have long since lost the battles to the ancient gods of war the teachers spoke of… though why they were always naked eludes me yeeees…”
“No, again we don’t really have gods just floating around... Could we please talk about something else? Or is that all you wanted to know?” Tom tried, hoping he really didn’t have to dive deeper into that particular subject.
“No no don’t you dare cut me off! I have seen what you talked of, nuclear fire and missiles, ships of the oceans and planes soaring in the skies. But is it not all fake? Surely it must be! It must be? It must be…”
“I don’t know what you saw… but we have ships sailing around. If you’ve ever seen flying ships like you have here then that’s fake I can assure you of that. We do have airships, but they look more like really big long balloons.”
“But we could make such vessels, or someone could from times past. If you can visit the moon then surely you can make a ship for the skies!”
“No no, we ain’t got grav oil. Or dragon essence as I guess it’s called. That means no anti gravity, and that means weight is a very very big problem for anything you wanna make fly. Planes and helicopters are how we fly. Remember how I flew to Afghanistan on a big ass plane? Or when I learned to parachute later?”
“What is parachute? is it the ham from your times doing, vacationing? what has dried meat products got to do with flying machines of battle!”
“Wooo easy now easy. I guess you didn’t get that far yet. Uhm. It’s a cloth kite you dangle from and then glide to the ground. Very good fun.”
“A cloth kite used to fly?... such strange inventions. Wait was there not a movie of with something of that nature? yeeee… there was a song. I liked that song… something something brains upon his chute. Yeesss…”
“Yeah… You’ll know it when you see it. I have one actually.” Tom clarified trying not to get too weirded out.
“You must demonstrate on a suitable occasion.”
“Yeah… I do have a question too though,” Tom replied, letting silence reign for a short time. “...Your last letter was in Danish.”
“Oh, uhm yes. I- I was having some difficulty separating what was real and what was not… I still am. Do not tell Glazz, she musten know the truth yet. She seeks to limit my excursions.”
“You’ve ended up like I did, have you?”
“No no no, the effects do indeed recede as expected, everything is in good order… But I had to know more. So so much moooore.”
“Maybe you should cool it a bit. You never know when a brain snaps. Or how,” Tom tried, confident his advice would be ignored.
“There is not time!”
“And why is that? How is it going in our beloved Inquisition?”
“Mind your tongue, human! Things are progressing, but so are our enemies. Infiltrators have been caught, traitors within our ranks are making their moves. The reemergence of Rashan, attacks on mines, keeps and a daring heist attempt at a Royal Guard fortress! The game is afoot, we cannot delay.”
“You can’t overreach yourself either. Weren’t you supposed to be winning over the rest of the inquisition right about now? Can’t do that as a gibbering mess.”
There was silence for a while more after that. “Glazz sent you a letter? What did it say?! You may not keep secrets from me- wait not… I should confiscate her arm… she cannot write with her left. Yes far better plan, avoid upsetting him. And fill her pen with invisible ink. Yes very good.”
“No, it’s just obvious to any idiot. But what about winter, won’t things slow down?”
“They should, yet as autumn progresses it has only been picking up. I hope they too are running out of time… But time for what? I must know what they are planning. They might be behind schedule. But what SCHEDULE! sorry…”
“Well you’re not gonna find the answer to that in my memories, now are you?”
“You were sent by someone. You are here for a purpose. I must know this purpose. It will help me understand. The puzzle is large and much of the box kept from me.”
“As far as I’m concerned, I’m here to help you guys get in gear. That’s a decades to centuries long sorta problem, not a couple of years. Sounds like this war will be in the couple of years category.”
“Then why now? Why did you arrive now?!”
“Shitty luck? Sounds like 10 years ago would have been a lot better… Oh on that note, did you hear? We found something down below.”
“No, Paulin would have told me.”Joelina dismissed, he could almost feel her turning her snout up and away from him.
“Well we opened the vault like 3 days ago,” Tom replied, quite surprised Paulin hadn’t said anything. “Wait yeah she can send you messages, no? She sent the message about what we wanted to buy too, didn’t she?... How did she do that by the way? Why didn’t you just have her ask me questions?”
“That is not for you to know, and this is not for her.”
“Really? More secrets still? Come on, tell me or I’ll let you think flying whales exist.”
“I know those are not real. If they were, you would have harvested them long ago! likely for some deranged snack… or facial decoration.”
“True, but you get the idea,” Tom persisted, feeling like this was something worth pushing for. Why would Paulin not have let her precious Joelina know?
“Very well. This does not leave your mind… In the name of, what was it called… camaraderie. Paulin is in possession of joined paper. Messages may be written down and read by anyone with similarly joined paper. Unsecured. Originally believed to be fore love letters… dastardly studs and wenches using perfectly good magic for such trivialness… simply tie the message to a rock and throw it though the window. Most peasants cannot even afford glass” Joelina trailed off, seemingly zoning out once more.
“You have magical paper that can relay written information… and you don’t fucking use it!?” Tom explaimed, not quite believing what he was hearing.
“No, we do not know how to make freshly bonded paper… only more linked to all other paper in existence…” Joelina agreed. He could almost feel her looking at the floor in shame. “But it is not as if you are infallible, why did you not bring one of these radios?”
“I uhm…”
“Why didn’t you?!”
“I forgot,” Tom admitted, thinking back to his packing days. Of all the things that could have proven useful, that one might have been his biggest blunder.
“For the love of all that is holy! You are our saviour?!” Joelina scolded, understandably so, but still.
“Hey I never claimed to be smart!”
“I have lived your dreams. That is a lie! You very much claim to be smart!”
“Fuck off, I know you are just a scared little insecure girl.”
“She died 30 years ago!”
“Well I haven’t gotten to that bit yet!”
“What in the devils do you mean?” Joelina questioned calming right down in a fraction of a second.
“I’ve only had like three proper dreams about you… wait no, not like that,” Tom blurted out as it clicked just how wrong that sounded. Joelina didn’t seem to care in the slightest though.
“Three? That is it!?” going right back to outrage.
“Yeah… Wait, how many have you had?” Tom questioned. He rather wanted to know just how much she might know about him in addition to the memories she had already picked through when inside his head.
“Several a day!” the inquisitor exclaimed in reply.
“Okay, I can see how that would drive someone a bit mad.”
“I am not going mad!”
“Did Glazz say the same thing?” Tom questioned, quite certain he was striking a nerve.
There was no reply for quite some time, Tom feeling the headache growing as things grew tranquil once more. He could feel his breath. It was rapid, and his heart was pounding. He probably shouldn’t do this for much longer. Thus he endeavored to break the silence.
“You probably should listen to her you know.”
“No! These matters are above her station!”
“Hasn’t she been in the Inquisition longer than you?”
“She has yes. But she is no inquisitor. She is a body guard.”
“Seems like she is a wee bit more than that,” Tom pushed on. He didn’t yet know how those two came to stick together, but it was clear they had been working together for decades by now. All the way since she was assigned to Harvik
“Mind your own matters, human.”
“Very well, don’t think I can keep this up anyway.”
“We have barely been chatting! Where do the dogs come from?!”
“Selective breeding for thousands of years. But I’m gonna go. Take a break, do what Glazz says… even if Jacky hates her.”
Yet more silence followed that, though it was brief and Joelina was the first to speak again.
“Fine! In the interest of cooperation I shall let you rest. Wear the earring at all times, I shall be contacting you again soon.”
“I think I’m gonna be the judge of that. I’ll put it on when I feel like it.”
“You will do as I say!”
“You need a nap and a bit to calm down. I’ll give you three days. Around noon. See yah… How do I get this thing off?”
“I’m not telling you,” Joelina grumped like a little girl. She really didn’t seem quite like herself at all today. She had been the spitting image of restraint and arrogance before. The arrogance was still there, but the restraint had certainly gone.
“Come on, do I just try to cut off the magic or is that a bad idea?”
“If you answer a question I might answer.”
“Right then… Gimme gimme gimme aaaa-”
“JUST CUT IT! Farewell!” she called out loud enough Tom’s head pulsed and then there was blissful silence once more.
“Hehe. That did the trick, right concentrate on that funny feeling aaan-”
__________________________________________________________________________________
After dinner had been rounded up, Dakota had given a brief address as to some of the news received. There wasn’t much that hadn’t already made the rounds at the tables during the dinner itself. The war had been expanding, recruitment had started in full in the cities, and if not for the rather special situation at Bizmati they could have expected their banners to get called by spring.
Rumors had it that the kingdom was preparing itself for counterstrikes the following spring, which meant training through the winter for many volunteers.
“And a lot of not so volunteers,” Fengi muttered as Dakota carried on with the address.
“You can say that twice. At least the street rats might get something to eat and a place to sleep,” Tirox the trader escort added.
“I suppose that is true. Not a bad deal in winter time… I might even have taken it.”
“But we must instead keep our minds on our home,” Dakota carried on, talking to the whole hall. “There can be no mistake, we will be a target. We will be ready. They are getting bolder by the day it seems. It is not impossible they may attempt to take our keep before the winter comes. Or perhaps they will be waiting for spring. It is equally clear their forces are spread thin. We will weather such assaults, I have no doubt. But we must keep training. We must keep vigil. We cannot afford to be surprised or outmatched. I know you will all do your best. And tonight, we have no less than 4 dragons here. So breathe easy, have your snacks and your drinks. If the weather holds soon we will be finished with the warehouse and then we may make final preparations for winter. It is sure to be an interesting one for once.”
The hall replied with a half-discordant cheer, not overly enthusiastic unlike what Dakota had likely envisioned. The talk of them possibly getting attacked even before the snow came wasn’t really that encouraging. But Dakota tended to speak her mind, and she was probably right. Bizmati keep would be a damn tough nut to crack. And to Dakota’s credit she did seem to recognize she hadn’t really managed to rile them up.
“Didn’t you hear me?” she tried again in a slightly more humorous tone. “Eat, drink, and have fun! And put those tables together, don’t want you brooding in your corners.”
That did get a bit more of a reaction, as well as some good humored chuckles. People started getting up and set about moving the tables closer together.
It was a little rude to split up their guests in the same way as they normally did. Saph carried one of the benches over to the new spot, glancing around for any sign of Maiko, but there was no sign of him anywhere.
Feeling a little miffed, she sat down with the others as Ray came back with one of the small kegs of cider looking very excited. “We should have a taste, right?”
“Oh yes please!” Pho called out, Essy giving her a slight slap on the wrist.
“This one is only for those who paid for it. You will have to do with whatever you bought. Or the ale I’m sure they intend to serve.”
“Aww man. Not even a sip?”
“Okay, maybe a sip,” Essy relented. “Oh, I should get Koko his gift.”
“You got him a gift?” Saph questioned with mirth in her voice.
“Of course, that is what people do for each other… you did get Maiko something, right?”
Saph felt her expression slip a little as she prepared to disappoint their chief people person. “No, not really…”
“All that money and you didn’t get him shit? That’s cold girl,” Pho laughed, clearly finding it hilarious.
“Oh shut up, not as if I got something for Unkai either,” Fengi added, springing to Sapphire’s defence, though it seemed like the delivery had Fengi second guessing herself as well.
Esmeralda did look a little saddened by the news, but she was far too nice to say anything. Tirox however had no such filter.
“Oh don’t worry about it, just gotta go with a different sort of gift.” The diminutive guard laughed heartily at his joke. Udanti found it quite funny as well, and Pho certainly loved it. Bo just shook her head a little and went back to a small puzzle of some sort she had been working on, on and off, for most of the dinner by now.
“So uhm… One mug each?” Ray questioned, having been left hanging at the keg.
“Oh yes sorry, just the one, this stuff is expensive,” Saph replied, holding out her mug, Ray pushing it back down.
“One moment.” And she produced a wooden mallet and one of the metal taps. It looked like one of Raulf’s, so it was probably old as faded dragonscales.
Ray gingerly placed it against the cork and raised the mallet as the table fell silent in anticipation.
With a whack the tap went in clean with hardly a drop spilled, and Ray breathed a visible sigh of relief. “Right there we go.”
There was a quick round of cheers from the table, and Ray started pouring servings.
“Oh got yours open, have you?” the voice of Balethon came as the guard came walking up to the table, mug in hand and lizard on shoulder. “You all know we are gonna have to work out who got the better stuff, right?”
“Oh does it always have to be a competition with you, Balethon?” Saph questioned. She had just wanted to enjoy the cider.
“Look who is talking… And yeah of course we do! Just think of the bragging rights.”
Ray didn’t look too thrilled, nor did any of the girls who had actually paid for the keg. The rest of the table seemed to think it was a brilliant idea, even as Balethon’s voice carried and heads started to turn as people started to mingle between the now closely together tables.
“I’ll be the independent adjudicator!” Tirox declared, not receiving much attention as the full mugs started to get passed around. “Oh come on. I’ll be fair!”
“Shut it pipsqueak, you’ll end up taking 10 rounds of tastings before you make up your mind,” Udanti scolded, though in good humor.
“I might…” the guy relented, looking to Balethon. “Ey, by the way. Did you teach the brainlet any tricks?”
“Sure, Skitters can do a few things.”
“Aside from chasing the food?”
“You know what I think he might yeah,” Balethon replied sarcastically, gently tapping the static lizard twice on the head. The lizard didn’t do much save skitter about on his shoulder to face Balethon’s head, one eye pointing in whichever direction.
‘That thing just looks so dumb,’ Saph thought to herself as Ray handed her a mug. “Oh thank you.”
“Okay, Skitters. Up,” Balethon went, raising a claw into the air as if he wanted the lizard to jump. Or perhaps stand up. “Up… come on.”
There was no reaction from the lizard aside from it jerking to the left a bit, possibly having spotted a fly or something.
“Weeeell obedience might need some work,” Udanti chuckled. “Have you tried with some food in your hand?”
“Sure, then he just tries to eat the hand. Come on, Skitters. Up!” Balethon tried again, doing the gesture once more. And this time the little lizard jumped into the air. The little legs stretched out, taking its pitiful excuse for wings with it, and it half-fell half-glided to the floor where it hit with all the grace of a 6 year old on his first lesson. The slightly fat lizard bounced once, then rolled over twice before coming to a stop, looking around confused.
“Aaayyy! That’s a good boi,” Balethon went, going to pick it up again before someone stepped on it or it ran off under the tables. “And now you get a treat.” True to his word Skitters was fed a small piece of something or other which it seemed quite happy to snap up.
Fengi leaned in to whisper to Saph. “Was that the trick or did it just get sick of staying there?”
“I have no idea,” Saph replied, holding up her mug. “Cheers though.”
“Cheers,” Fengi replied as they clinked mugs.
“Oh hang on now, wait for me,” Essy protested as Ray finished pouring her mug and started on her own, looking to the girls as she questioned “Oh, also what about Jacky? Should we wait for her?”
“Who knows how long that will take?” Fengi replied, holding her mug impatiently.
“I’m sure she won’t mind. She is with Tom. We’ll let him have a mug as well,” Essy added with a reassuring nod, looking up to the high table. “Oh but we are missing Lin!”
“Oh right yeah she paid too… I can’t remember, did Edita chip in?”
“I don’t think so,” Sapphire replied, shaking her head as Essy got up to go fetch Linkosta. Balethon decided to take her place, a big grin on his face.
“So what else is going on over here?”
“Oh not much, hellooo little guy,” Pho went, trying to give skitters a scritching. In exchange he tried to eat her finger. “Oh… I mean I guess it doesn’t hurt.”
“Oh yeah, he can’t hurt a fly… well he can, but nothing more.”
“Shame he won’t get any bigger either,” Udanti added, nodding sagely. “Would have made a good rat hunter.”
“Nah… toe hunter though. Also where is the ale at?”
“Oh Raulf and Wiperna are getting ale and some of the bubble beer.”
“What is bubble beer?” Udanti questioned, tilting her head.
“Oh you’ll love it,” Saph interjected, waiting patiently as she saw Essy and Linkosta returning to the table out of the corner of her eye. “It’s an ale but it’s all fizzy.”
“Riiight… I’ve heard of fizzy beers before.”
“Oh yes, but this one is so much more fizzy.”
“It’s light and almost springlike.”
“Light ale? You mean for kids?”
“No no no. Just trust us it’s good.”
“Right right, I trust you,” the archer replied, looking to Essy and Linkosta, who seemed to be looking for a place to sit. “Should we not just put two end to end rather than this scrunching up business?”
“Yeah we should… Right get the craftsman table over here then. We don’t wanna have to smell the guards,” Saph called out, holding up her mug.
“Hey! That was uncalled for,” Balethon protested as Ray passed a mug to Linkosta. The girls all raised their mugs and had a sip, not willing to wait any longer. They all smacked their chops a little, looking down at the golden liquid. It was slightly fizzy too… and it tasted like the brew of the gods themselves. Ray was looking at them all visibly tense with anticipation and perhaps a twinge of fear.
“Ray… You have not disappointed,” Saph declared, nodding her approval, a smile creeping onto her face once more.
“Oh this is the best drink I think I’ve ever had,” Fengi added, taking another gentle sip.
Ray looked visibly relieved, her expression changing to one of ecstasy as she too took a sip herself. “Oh it’s even better than I remember. I’m glad you liked it.”
“Like it?! I love it!” Fengi cheers, Essy giving an appreciative nod to Ray before looking to Lin.
“Sooo?”
“It’s very good… Do you think we could try and cool it down a little? Imagine this cold.”
“It is often served cold, yes,” Ray confirmed, nodding her assent.
“I’ll go get the powder!” Saph called out, getting up. “I have got to try that.”
__________________________________________________________________________________
The strange ethereal world that had seemed so all-consuming started to quickly fade. Holes grew as light and reality started seeping in, sounds and noise starting to build around him. “Oom-Tom… Tom, are you okay?” came the familiar voice of Jacky as his eyes shot open and he blinked a few times as he returned to reality proper.
“Yeah yeah, I’m here… That is trippy, but hey, I think it worked.”
“How many fingers?” Jacky questioned, holding up her hand.
“4. Clear as day.”
“Pheeew. Okay look around, anything strange?”
Tom obeyed, sitting up a bit straighter and glancing about the room. “Nnnnn, nope all good. Just like last time I used one of these.”
“Right, good. Now what did she say?”
“Oh a bunch of stuff… mostly we chatted a bit about how she’s going a touch mad. Even Glazz thinks she’s falling apart at the seams apparently. She was also not happy I wanted a break.”
“Oh don’t tell me you have to do this every day from now on?”
“I said she had 3 days to get ready to try again. Hopefully she’ll have her case worked out by then.”
“Here’s to hoping… also how is your head? Does it hurt?”
“A bit, it’ll go away I’m sure.”
“Right,” Jacky replied, looking at him skeptically. “If it gets worse, tell me. But dinner was served a while ago I think. And I’m hungry.”
“Me too, let’s go.”
__________________________________________________________________________________
Well then, Joelina got her chat. She seems fine... I am sure she will continue to be a steadfast ally, within the walls of the inquisition for many weeks to co- I mean years, definetly years.
As always I hope you enjoyed the chapter, if not you know who to blame. I promise I won't cry to much if you tell me what was wrong... I promise.
Not really any news, other than fuck me I'm a busy boi, luckily I found the time to keep up with the writing yet, hopefully things will quet down soon so I can get back to begin a bit further ahead.
Untill next time, take care
Wiki and Art Gallery If you can't remember who someone is, want to read any of the side stories of fanfiction, or you just wanna watch some of the cool art that's been made for the story. Patreon If you want to help get more cool shit made consider joining the Patreon, you also get chapters two weeks ahead of time. HoH Subreddit if you want more stories from the HoH universe or are interested in writing something for this funny little world. Discord if you wanna have a chat about the story or just hang out First Previous

I usually ship my product in boxes that are 6x4x3 or bigger. I now have an item that's flat and weighs .4 oz. I shipped it as a letter, 6x4 bubble envelope and used etsy shipping as always because this cost $1.39 vs $4.23. It generated a tracking nr, I dropped some off May 2nd and they still show pre transit, one as delivered,the 6 packages like that are still " pre transit" and the tracking nr in the etsy app are worthless. How should I ship these in the future? As a thick envelope vs letter, there is a huge price difference, am I just stuck with this? I offer this small clip at $10, free shipping, which is kinda on the high end for a tiny rear camera clip, I don't think I should go up on that. I do still like to make some profit.

Please help :( Because of this new situation with the old sub being privated, I can't find information on how to change my parent email and passcode. I know my accounts username, obviously, I know it's password too, but I forgot the email I used to make my account - and either way, I'm logged out of all of my old emails besides one. I buy membership - I have bundles, I have so much - I feel so exposed considering I can't log into my account manager, nor set up 2-step verification. I just had my chat set to bubble - and now I can't find the reason why either because it asks me for my email. Doesn't help I barely use reddit - this is like my first post ever..?
If anyone has information, or could even screenshot information from the new sub and post it under here - it would mean the world to me. I would genuinely be so, so grateful. I tried to appeal to AJ - I really did - but when they ask for your parent email first things first and if you don't send It you don't get to appeal a ticket - I couldn't do ANYTHING. Sent out so many letters, always got the same response that went something like "We can't confirm the account is yours sorry lol"

A few days ago, I received a file from a journalist friend who teaches at a private university in Montevideo. I known this person for years now and the exchange with her on our countless bar nights basically made me want to try to study journalism. After I started my career we became even closer and we shared concerns about the evolution of information, social media and the infamous cerebral callosity we acquired to endure the tragedy.
My friend, let's call her Valeria, was part of a public competition to accompany a minor scientific expedition to the Uruguayan Antarctic base. Her thesis was about investigating how information reception behaves in remote and isolated areas.
I barely read it , but basically tries to show that information circulates and is received in a particular way in these circumstances by a group of unfamiliar people living under extreme climatic and isolation conditions, having as an example, life in submarines and in military bases in Siberia. The Antarctic base gave her the chance to observe some of her postulates up close.
Finally, she was chosen and traveled with this scientific group in a commercial flight Montevideo - Santiago de Chile to later arrive at Punta Arenas and fly to the Antarctic base.
The last communication I had with her before she sent me the almost 90 photographic captures of the Journal, was on March 15, 2024.
We talked over the phone about how the weather was in Montevideo, that it does not stop raining and the cars are practically floating on the streets. She told me that the transport that was going to take them back was having mechanical problems and they would probably have to order spare parts for the plane from Punta Arenas. Then She told me that it is freaking cold down there and his colleagues are all very boring. Nobody has whisky for the evenings. We laughed about that part because I told her to bring at least one bottle of Grappa in her purse.
Before saying goodbye, she told me they had spotted some old metal structures south of the base. The soldiers told her that it was safe to go near that part so she was going to explore them. It wasn't there when they first arrived and that the recent and atypical heat wave probably must have exposed it. I told her to be careful and we said goodbyes.
Three days later I received an email. “Valeria shared a file with you.” As I start to see what it was about she calls me.
“Mauro? MAURO!, can you hear me?” She said in a nervous and excited voice.
“I can barely hear you, what happened?”I asked half asleep, while still lying on my bed.
“Listen to me carefully, don't talk, just listen” I could tell by her agitation that she was walking fast or maybe running. The creaking footsteps in the snow could be heard in the background. in the distance, a catastrophe-type siren was blaring.
“Are you alright? What happened? What's that noise?” I said, now sitting on the edge of my bed.
“I sent you a file. Transfer it to a flash drive, delete history and reset your cell phone, the computer and your email address. I'll explain everything later, it'll be worth it.”
“What? What are you talking about Vale?, what for? Tell me what's going on - I started to yell at her, in slide panic.
“Listen, I found something that is not supposed to exist. In the diary he explains everything. I'm going back to the base, I think someone is following me, I set off an alarm or something. Save that file for me until I get there and remember that... “
There were two loud booms and the sound of water invading the transmission. A choked bubbling and cracking sound reminded me of ice collapsing. My friend had fallen into the water, in Antarctica.
“HEY, are you OK?! What happened?!” - I kept screaming hysterically until the call was cut off.
I looked at my cell phone for a second. My hands were shaking, I tried calling several times but the phone went dead. I looked at the compressed file. I jumped up and ran to the dining room furniture, frantically looking for a white flash drive that had to be in a drawer somewhere. I couldn't find it, so I went back to my desk. I pulled the drawer so hard that it came off the rail and fell to the floor. I started to dig through my belongings on the floor, coins, papers, cards, nothing.
I thought, I struggled to remember where I had fucking put it. Finally I saw my backpack peeking out from behind the desk chair, I jumped on it and in the second small pocket from the inside, there was a cheap white 16G flash drive. I put it in the pc, downloaded the file directly there, took it out and fabric restored the entire system on the computer. I do the same with my cell phone as Valeria said.
At the time I didn't even question if those measures really prevented me from being tracked, and the idea that that was the reason made panic run through my body like lightning. Sitting on the floor of my room next to the mess, my body was numb with tension. After a few seconds, I rebooted my cell phone to try to call Lucia, her sister.
“Hello?”
“Lucia, it's that you? I think something bad happened to Vale, I hear her over the phone as if she fell into the water, and some rumbling. I don't know what I heard, I think she got into some trouble or some place she shouldn't have been - I realized that I was mumble and not saying anything clear. For some reason, I didn't mention the file.
“It can't be Mauro, I just spoke to her on the phone. She was at the airport in Santiago de Chile at the boarding lounge, we talked for about half an hour, she told me she was bringing a fancy bourbon to share and…”
I stopped listening, it didn't make sense, how could it be? what the fuck is going on!
“Mauro, are you ok? Is something wrong? it's too early, are you sure you didn't dream it?”
“Did you talk to her? half an hour ago? But...,” I exclaimed without being able to hide my confusion.
“Are you... sure it was her?”
“Yes, of course you moron, it's my sister! Did you smoke pot again on an empty stomach?”
“No, you're right, nevermind, thanks Lucia, talk to you soon.” I ended the call without letting her say goodbye.
Had I dreamt about it? I erased everything now, how will I know if I dreamt it? I hesitated absurdly.
This is surreal, I thought to myself as I looked at the flash drive in my hand. I refocused my attention and went to the attic looking for my brother's old laptop he left me before going to live in Spain. It was practically useless, but it was enough to see the file. I turned it on, waited for the decrepit Windows XP to load, and put the flashdisk in, opened the compressed folder and found two files.
“LabNotes.pdf”
“PersonalDiary.pdf”
I decided to open the journal first. From what I interpreted from the loading order of the screenshots, after reading it, I opened the image of the last page.
I transcribe as is.
Day 243 of the 2nd mission 10: 40 am. March 12, 2019.
I am the head researcher of the Psychological Area at the UN Antarctic base; I'm currently assigned to Project Sisyphus categorized as the highest classified rank.
This is going to sound crazy, but the person living with my family is my clone.
It still surprises me when I say it out loud, but after being able to replicate the brain-muscular history (a perfect copy of our memory) of any person and having mastered replicating every cell of our bodies at any age, it was only a matter of time before the development of social biotechnology would emerge. Now and by worldwide agreement, as a complete secret.
There is absolutely no shame or a shred of ethics in what we do, there is no longer any constraint on what we can do to the subjects for the sake of research. That haunts me every day.
It all went to shit so fast, I doubt anyone will come to our rescue. The protocol says so, the base in the face of an imminent security risk will erase itself. The structure was designed to collapse methodically following a protocol of incineration and sinking. The immediate perimeter has underwater mines that make the ice collapse almost imperceptibly, but deadly to anyone who tries to leave.
No one can escape from the base, neither the research staff nor the subjects. Our place in the world is already taken.
I only hope that this journal along with my lab notes will be found at some point. I managed to construct a small insulating gasket for it so I trust it will survive in case this part of the building collapses as well.
Please use this data to let the world know what happened here and don't let perversity define us once again.
To my family: I love you and miss you every minute.
B.
At the exact moment I ended the reading I received a video call that made me jump with fright, it is...
Valeria.
With my pulse shaking, I answered the call.
“Hi you! The flight was delayed, can you believe it? This one is absolutely in my top three, worst trips of my life. I'm really hungry and everything is so expensive here. What are you up to? Tell me something, please, I'm soooo bored!”
I looked at her with confusion and I couldn't manage to pronounce words. When I was about to modulate an answer she interrupted me.
“What's the matter Mauro?, are you on pause? Is the signal OK? HELLO! Can you hear me? Can you see me?” She started to walk through the boarding lounge looking for better signal
“Yes yes, Valeria I can hear you.”
She laughed and looked at me with a face between sensual and serious, and continued.
“Do you miss me?” while raising the phone jokingly as she typically does in her selfie pose.
“Valeria, don't you remember calling me earlier today?”
“I? called you? Nop. Why? Ah! By the way, did you know there are penguins in Tierra del Fuego? I would have liked to go and see them.” She continued his verbose conversation in a carefree tone, with her typical hand gestures and playing with his hair.
“Well, at last!” She interrupted herself and shouted, jumping up from her chair.
“We are being called to board, see you in a couple hours!” She said goodbye with a smiling sonority, and began to walk towards the boarding gate.
But at the last second, before ending the call, her gesture changed. She looked directly at the camera with a hardened and emotionless face and almost mechanically, she whispered.
“(I'm going to retrieve that diary).”
My stomach dropped to the floor and I could feel as if my blood was running cold with fear. I could not shake the awful and eerie feeling that this person, who was returning, whom I had never in my life called by her full name, was not my friend.
So, the next couple of hours I put everything in to transcribe the rest of important passages of the diary. Something was compelling me to do it, i can't explain it, Some mix between moral duty, and morbid curiosity. Here is my selection of it.
Lab notes. day 96 of 1st mission 08:00 am December 22, 2016.
Subject JON X012:
First physical assessments: Normal, alert and inquisitive, exhibits some alteration to screens.
We place 100 cc of sedative in room air. The subject attentively follows the narrative of scenario B5 “The last mission”.
The subject responds positively to the premises of the story, where he is asked to address an audience threatened by a natural disaster, convincing them to choose a certain path out of the city.
He offers to collaborate but fails to articulate the message with the power to overcome the simulation.
We resort to pouring 125cc of concentrated Psilocybin into the air as stipulated in the protocol sheet.
The vocal frequency and body language reading receptors in the observation room are activated. The subject manages to formulate a series of premises articulately and with discursive power, circulating around the observation room.
Successful reaction.
We move on to the next stage.
Case is filed under the label “Jobs Project.”
Diary entry: Day 96 of the 1st mission 21:30 pm. December 22, 2016.
Today they transferred subject JON X0012 for psychological evaluation, several in the lab were very anxious about this arrival. I was never the religious type, but I can understand why. Truth be told,
I always imagined Jesus would be taller.
*********
Day 106 of the 1st mission 08:00 am January 02, 2017
Today we received a new lab assistant for the night shift. Much needed as I was covering these shifts myself and am really burned out. The underground operates at full power at those hours, the hum of the machinery becomes unbearable. This must be why the rooms have an insulating structure.
********
Day 112 of the 1st mission 19:00 pm January 08, 2017.
The new integration is not very bright. He labeled the transcripts wrong again yesterday and doesn't seem to fully understand the importance of these. I'm going to have to go through the whole method with him again. I don't have much patience lately, it's not his fault, he seems like a nice guy and it's real that I need a second of confidence. Better train him from now on. Maybe start a sketch of a short explanatory document.
*******
Small introductory guide.
When the subjects conclude the incubation and breeding process (pages 19 to 52 of the manual), that is to say, that they have at least remembered speech and with it, depending on the time in which they lived, reading and writing, they generally begin to perceive themselves. Just before situational curiosity is when the psychology department comes into action. Either to run the “stand by” simulation or the main tests.
In each subject's file is the target of their cloning, the era in which they lived, and the recommended scenarios to trigger the desired response. If the file has X amount on the cover, this corresponds to the generation of the subject, whether it is the first or 10th time it is incubated.
Generally, it takes between 2 and 5 attempts to generate the correct simulation, and administer the appropriate drugs.
It took 5 attempts to come up with the correct amount of methamphetamine that subject AH X005 (Hitler) needed to function in the scenario, as the correct amount bordered on overdose.
Simulations are much easier since the implementation of multisensor AI. We managed to generate almost any scenario including temperature, smells, lights and sounds. We tried not to use familiar ones, as human smells are impossible to replicate. We found this out in a complicated way. We tried to recreate a conversation between RR subject X003 (Reagan) and his mother, but he recognized the fakery by the absence of body odor. His mind collapsed and we had to move him to the Underground. The people in Area C (Private Clients) almost lost a very large Chinese account.
After calibrating the subject, we ran both psychological and behavioral tests, scanned retinas, analyzed blood, as well as vocal and body language. But what has really yielded surprising results are the free interviews. It is amazing what some minds are capable of with the right environmental and chemical stimulation. That's why transcription is vital (!!)
Our area develops BC (Behavioral Algorithms) which are then bought by the private sector, and some government agencies.
To give you some examples: Twitter was an idea of subject JO X008 (Orwell).
Bots in social media and the use of big data was an idea of JG X002 (Goebbels) and KM X014`s worst nightmare (Marx) was bought by Amazon.
It is an arduous process and the success rate is low, but when we achieve the goal per subject, well, these results are a mein part of the latest revolutions of mankind.
So follow the lab rules, never refer to subjects by their actual historical name, and always remember, they are assets, not people.
***********
Day 117 of the 1st mission 16:30 am January 12, 2017.
Today is a rest day all over area D. I miss many things from the old world that I thought I would never miss, taking a bus, standing in line with strangers, and today I miss Sundays. We only have one on the month. So as usual we gather in the rest area to listen to a liberated jukebox that tries to lighten the mood. I know, right? Why I wrote about this “Saturday” photocopy, well besides the same nostalgic drunks, I was approached by a person I didn't recognize.
From what I understood he was a rehabilitated alcoholic, maybe that's why I didn't see him on “Saturdays”. He must be in his 50's, he was portly and wore thick black-rimmed glasses, he seemed to have a slight limp, I noticed it when he went to refill my beer.
I am a very reserved person and find it hard to talk to people. Truth be told, I've lost the desire to talk to people here. What can you actualy fucking talk about here, if it's not about the same thing. Everything revolves around work and some inter-area gossip, which never escalates much.
But yesterday was Clara's birthday and to hide the remorse and sadness of only having shared with her the first 3 years of her life, I had a few too many beers.
We chatted about banal aspects of life in isolation, and the things we miss. For him it was going to the stadium to watch soccer with his grandchildren. I think it was loneliness and nostalgia that brought us together that night.
His name was Sigfried, I don't know if I spelled it right, but it was clearly Nordic, i notice because of some of the words he mixed up with English. He works as the underground level security manager. We all know that it is one of the most restricted areas and what we have learned in these almost 10 years in the project, is that the more restricted, the less questions you should ask.
But that day, I think I felt the urge to hurt myself, to go off the rails, so I asked what we all suspected but no one knew for sure. I asked about the blenders. I wish I hadn't.
************
Day 126 of the 1st mission 08:00 am January 21, 2017.
I almost can't express how furious I am today, but I'm going to try because if I don't, I'm going to punch the new assistant in the face. He has nothing to do with this, he's just mildly irritating.
Anyway, in Genetic Mapping or area A, they approved the incubation of another Anomaly. It seems to be an express request from a major shareholder and there is not much to say. Anomalies are very risky to reproduce, nature is wise, and for some reason it placed them in history moments where they had their limitations.
It seems that after the crisis of 2010 with “The Russian Devil” it is no longer scary enough. New school morons... If they had been there they wouldn't even dare to think about it. I AM FURIOUS.
The arguments are that this case lived longer, that the clone would be in his 70s, and that he possessed noticeably more “civilized” traits. As if the court of the last Zar had not been somewhat civilized.
Personally I think this is a big mistake. Since the discovery that some people possess unknown DNA components and with the 2010 background, they should draw the line. There are certain things, still beyond our ability to understand. But it is delusional of me to think that there are limits, someday the absence of them will consume us all.
************
Lab notes day 142 of 1st mission 08:00 am February 06, 2017.
Final free interview with JON subject X012
Scenario B-24 or “The Dinner Party” Result: Normal.
Notes: Subject is grateful, positive, docile and hopeful for the future. Offers to cook next time by asking for spices and ingredients of typical Hindu dishes.
The subject is directed to the Underground area.
Attached audio for transcription.
Case is filed under the label “Jobs Project”.
**********
Day 142 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 06, 2017.
Today was the last session with subject JON X012, I managed to extract the last retinal and body language readings, as usual before sending them to Underground level. We ran the dinner scenario, the truth is that is one of the best simulations we have achieved. The subjects are relaxed resulting in the best free interview environment. This one was no exception, I must say I understand the charm of the “messiah” turned out to be quite an entertaining subject. I hope his next generation will be similar.
**********
Day 152 of the 1st mission 19:00 pm February 16, 2017.
I was tasked with the continuous monitoring of subject NT X004. I am not at all happy with this transfer. First of all, I know nothing about area B of engineering and technology. Secondly, I still think this is a really bad idea.
One of the laboratories has been set up with the essential simulation equipment and personnel. Tomorrow we start with the calibration.
**********
Lab notes day 153 of the 1st mission 08:00 am February 17, 2017.
First interview with subject NT X004, we run simulation scenario 54-A, “Signal from another planet.”
Subject is observed to be receptive at first but quickly changes to paranoid. We administer 300cc of MDMA via air, according to protocol.
We introduce the reconstructed figure of a colleague in a cry for help speech.
The Subject laughs and doesn't believe a word, we move to a physical approach plane,
I volunteer myself with a room operator from the engineering area, we show him unfinished plans of an experimental vacuum propulsion engine.
He laughs again and tells us that we are not who we say we are.
We administer 50cc of DMT and move on to the next scenario.
From the screen an astronaut with non-human features sends a distress signal and intergalactic coordinates.
The subject looks thoughtful, reassesses, picks up the blueprints and begins to shout out values and what appears to be mathematical and physical formulas.
Air is charged with percentages of absolute sedation.
Audio recording is attached.
It is filed under the name “Project SpaceX.”
**********
Day 153 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 17, 2017.
I'm not sure what happened today, this is the first time in 10 years that a subject overcame the deception of 3 simulations. We had to place absolute sedation in the air, as risky as we know it is. I recommended that we restart the process from scratch, but it was a resounding no, the client is in a hurry.
I need to get more involved in this case to recalibrate the subject. I don't know if I want to. The words before full sedation still resonate with me. “are you still using DC current? interesting...”
**********
Day 154 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 18, 2017.
Something happened, I don't quite know what. The rooms have an emergency lockdown active. Outside hear security personnel mobilizing. I tried the intercom but it didn't work. The insulation prevents my screams from being heard from the outside. If this goes on another day I'm going to break the lock. I'm going to set my backpack to the bare minimum.
**********
Day 157 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 21, 2017.
Yesterday I heard explosions in the B area. I couldn't take it anymore and broke the lock. Whatever it was I had to go out and see. The corridors were dark, and the underground buzzer went on, at least that worked.
I went right to the north staircase, down the 4 floors in near darkness, the power was failing. The entrance to the underground area was barricaded but I managed to see a figure peeking out from inside as they felt me making noises.
It was Sigfried, he pointed me in the doors direction and I entered through a heavily armored side door. I was surprised by the immensity of this section, it encompassed a large hall below almost all the sectors of the base. In front of us there were 4 large industrial pipes with switches and multiple smaller pipes coming out of their bases. These were repeated like mosaics throughout the area until they disappeared into the distance in the darkness.
Leaning against one of them were 3 officers in formerly white coats and a nearly dead guard bloodied on the floor. Poor guy, his legs were crushed with his flesh in the open. He was lying in a pool of his own blood.
He had a blank stare and was panting, it seemed from the pale of his skin, that his fate was imminent. My asthma began to pound in my chest sharply, so I reached into my bag looking for my inhaler. I told them between visible gasps of bad breath to please tell me what's happened.
One of the doctors had a badge from area B and another from area E which corresponds to bio-armamentistics. The latter burst into tears and said “We deserve it, every one of us, we deserve it”.
I knew the other guy, he is an engineer in area B. I could hear him babbling almost nonsensically about, as why they never thought about it, an issue with electrical power.
He looked at me carefully as if recognizing me and grabbed me tightly by my jacket pulling me close to his face transformed for the panic.
“He let them out, all of them!” but not only that, no no no no... he told them the truth. Nikola fucking Tesla hacked us and told them the truth.”
He began to laugh frantically with a face of absurdity until he burst into a choked cry. At that moment everything went dark. The emergency lights activated, and from far away and getting closer, along with the emergency sirens that began to sound, we heard a large mass of people screaming and running through the corridors outside.
Sigfried looked at me as they started to pound on the shielded door and said.
“We're fucked.”
**************
Day xx of the second mission, month xx of 2017
“()The industrial sounds of spinning blades, the cries for mercy followed by the thunderous, liquid crack, down that big pipe, into the green barrels, with the Monsanto logo, dripped down one side an elongated drop of pink paste ending in the letter E on the chemical label. FERTILIZER.”
**********
After finishing the transcription, my whole body began to want to flee, the walls of my house were tinged with a faint blue light as the cloudy dusk came through the window, the lights turned off by my abstraction at the computer gave way to the dark corridors that began to feel alien. As I gently closed the pc my ears began to ring as if under pressure, my breathing became more present and the vibration of my cell phone interrupted my trance.
A call from the office. It was to tell me that I had a vacation week pending, that by schedule, I had to take it starting today.
Sons of bitches, now they even choose your time off - I thought at first, but at the same time I found the voice on the phone very strange, and to tell the truth, the procedure itself.
The anger turned into confusion that only added to the paranoia. The sounds in the street began to seem erratic, a chaotic and strangely familiar feeling came over me. My senses seemed increasingly acute, and they screamed:
Go away.
I grabbed the old laptop, the flash drive and headed for the bus station. The short trip from my house seemed like a long journey. People on the street looked at me with strange faces, the cell phone kept ringing with unknown numbers on the screen and a strange idea began to formulate in my head that whispered “Them, Valeria is one of Them”.
Already on the platforms I rummaged through my backpack where I confirmed that I had the key to the family beach house in San Luis, 60 km to the east of Montevideo. I turned off my cell phone, got on a bus heading to another and much far away town called Treinta y Tres. Sat near the last seat and slipped my cell phone in my front pocket of the seat in front of me, got off and commented to the driver with a clueless face, “I got confused, I'm going to the coast”.
I almost jumped onto the steps of the correct bus to where I was heading, unable to avoid the gazes of the passengers questioning me for the last minute drop in. I sat in my numbered seat and defragmented in dissociation, trying to understand what I was doing, I was running away, but from what?
The images of the last transcriptions were engraved in my mind, the last paragraph was repeated over and over again making me shake my head from time to time trying to get them away from my thoughts. The road was dark and I lost track of time, the digital clock within sight of the passengers jingling since we left, reading 10:40.
“San Luis Station!” - I heard the guard's shout in low volume.
I staggered to my feet, hurried to get off and with the same impulse I entered the dirt roads.
I zig-zagged through the dark, cold and silent beach town. The moonless night and the smell of the sea calmed me.
When I turned the corner to the gabled beach house of my family, on the steps of the front door lit by a white light, was her. Sitting, waiting for me. I stopped dead in my tracks and a chilling vertigo ran down my torso to my throat. We looked at each other for a short two seconds, until she stopped and started walking in sliding steps towards me, smiling and playing with her hands, crossing and uncrossing her arms. The growing sound of the wind through the trees covered us.
“Darling, how are you? How nice is the summer house, I don't think we ever came here, did we? Is it the one your grandmother left you?”
I felt the adrenaline rushing through my bloodstream, how could such a familiar attitude from such a familiar person transmit such panic to me? I had to answer something.
“Yes, this is it. I came to clear my head for a while, they gave me a few days at work and I wanted to take advantage of it.” I tried to excuse myself with failed dissimulation, since I stuttered in the middle of the words.
“Yes, I know! We arranged it with them, so you can be more relaxed and as a gesture for taking care of the file. Ah! and another thing. I think someone stole your cell phone at the bus station.” She looked at me with a smart-ass smile.
“Anyway, don't worry, they already found it on a bus on the way to “Treinta y tres”. You can get it back later.”
At this point I opened my mouth to ask for explanations, but as terrified as I was I only mumbled a “thank you”.
All this dialogue let us half a body length away, Valeria looked at me now a little more serious and stood at my side. She took my arm petrified and I could feel how a strong smell of neutral soap invaded me, as if she had rubbed herself in it too much.
“Shall we go inside? it's getting cold,” She said, finishing the sentence with a sweet gesture of pleading.
“Emm, shure.” I said.
My trembling hands managed to hit the lock on the 3rd attempt, we entered, turned on the lights and from his backpack she took out a red wine. Our favorite.
“Bring me some glasses, Mauro”. - She said to me as she sat down on the armchair against the window overlooking the gentle hills outside.
She poured wine until he almost filled the ex-cottage cheese glass, looked at me and in a toast gesture said.
“To... Dr. B?”
I slid a little smile and raised my eyebrows. Then I took half a glass in one sip.
“Well!” - She exclaimed, leaning over and resting the glass on the coffee table, and continued.
"You must be very confused, I understand, I saw it many times, the mind trying to adapt to a new, unsuspected reality and in your case all at once. It is not easy. First, make sure that no one is going to hurt you or anyone you know, second, what you read in that file, as you may have noticed, is not intended for public knowledge. Also to tell you”. I couldn't take the stress anymore, I exploded.
“You're not Vale. Who are you?! You're almost identical, but....”
“Ah yes, that one it's a tricky one to explain. Let's try, let's see:
“I'm a version of Valeria that she accidentally gendered when entered the lab. In one of the incubation rooms she touched a scan button that photographs her mind for 48 hours. It contains a micro needle that took her blood and thus generated me.”
“The thing is that we were in a situation of self-destruction of the systems, and that part of the programming code of the protocol was also copied in Valeria's mind.”
“And Valeria? She 's... dead?”
“Well, yes and no. If she tried to leave the base she's probably dead. if she's still there, she's probably frozen to death or killed by the cleanup command, but basically, if I'm here, she's not anymore.”
the coldness with which she answered me made me lose the little calm I had, I got up from the armchair and started to back away with my hands on my head, I couldn't stop repeating,
“this can't be happening, this can't be happening”.
“Hey! Mauro, calm down, it's going to be alright. I'm Valeria too. In every way, I'm still your friend, I know who you are and everything we went through, really, it's me, and when I finish managing the leak, the code, it won't work anymore, it will be erased from my mind and I'll be me. So don't worry. You only have to give me the flash disc and this issue ends here. We go back to normal life and nobody will know about anything.
“I'm not going to pretend that my friend didn't die! Alone, fucking freezing to death, I'm not going to let you take her place, I'm not going to let you!” - She interrupted me.
“Mauro, listen to me” - She came closer to me and grabbed my hands, her big, lined eyes looking at me with sweetness, like so many times before.
“I AM Valeria, I have the same fingerprints, the same blood, the same DNA, the same memories, the same scars, absolutely everything. Are you going to tell my mother that I died? to my sister? Are you going to report me? Nobody is going to believe you at all. If anyone even wants to believe you, how would you prove it? I am an exact copy”. - she told me, smiling with real sweetness and empathy.
I could only cry, for my friend, for the helplessness of the conclusion that she was right. I collapsed on the couch, and watched as the hills swayed in the night.
“Let's have the last glass and I'm leaving.”- she said to me.
“After I give you this, and that part of you disappears, will you remember that you are not... really Valeria?
“No, there is already a simulation on pause about Valeria's last week, she won't remember anything about this situation when she wakes up, because the memory is simply overwritten.”
“So I'm going to be the only one to know about this?”
“Take it as a gift Mauro, a glimpse behind the veil. And if you keep it that way, everything will be fine” - The threatening tone was soft but evident.
“Okay, hand me your PC and the flash drive.”
I looked at her evaluating all possible actions and if this decision was the right one, she stretched out her hand and smiled sympathetically. I gave her the old computer and the black 16G flash drive with the file. She inserted it, typed mechanically fast until the screen went black.
“Perfect, That would be all - She took out the flash drive, threw it on the floor and stepped on it violently with the heel of her shoe, put on his backpack and headed for the door.
“Stop,” I said.
“The things that Dr. B wrote... about the underground…
“Yes, they are true, it was the only way to be self-sustainable and to be able to isolate the complex from the rest of the world. Even the most morally flexible scientists would question the work if they knew where the subjects ended up, and what we were doing with their bodies... Anyway, I'm going home, Lucia called me 5 times already. Talk to you tomorrow.
“Love you,.” - She smiled at me and closed the door behind her. I felt a car slowly drive away from the house.
From my pocket I took out the white flash drive and looked at it. Now I had a decision to make.

This is my take on “Here. In my head,” one of my favorite Tori songs, one of my favorite songs for the past 30 years. I prefer the 6-minute live version recorded at Colston Hall, Bristol, UK on 1994’s Past the Mission import, or it can be found on the 2015 remaster of Under the Pink, or on YouTube.
I had a very complicated, traumatic relationship with my mother. She died in 2005. I’m 52 now, middle aged, a guy, lots of therapy, and I’ve been processing this favorite song of mine for 30 years now, in my head, obviously. Recent events have led to several epiphanies and exponential personal growth, and I’m ready to share why this song has been so important to me, even though wasn’t able to articulate why on a conscious level, until now. I hope you can find it in yourselves to read along.
“In my head I found you there. And running around and following me.” I find my mother in my thoughts, occupying a significant space inside of me, always following me wherever I am in life.
“But you don’t dare.” Despite my mom’s running around and following me, I’m reluctant to allow her to be fully present – just like she was never fully present throughout my life.
“But I find I have, now, more than I ever wanted to.” Yet despite my reluctance, I also realize there’s something valuable in allowing her to be present. A longing more than I thought I desired or expected.
“So maybe Thomas Jefferson wasn’t born in your back yard like you have said.” I’ve often doubted what my mom has told me, or I’m in disbelief of the claims she’s made. I was very young when I became aware of her inconsistencies. I had reasons to question her reliability.
“And maybe I'm just the horizon you run to when she has left you.” The “she” in this line is very complex for me. “She” could mean my mother’s mom, who was a dirt-poor alcoholic who gave my mom up for adoption when she was four. I’m the horizon my mother ran to, looking for validation or love from me, her son. But I wasn’t always kind to my mother. When she was good, she was fucking amazing. But when she wasn’t, she was AWFUL. So my love and validation was often elusive, like a horizon. This line could also be read in the first person – I’m also my own horizon that I ran to when my mother left me. She drank a lot, and had her own issues from her traumatic childhood, and when she wasn’t present in my life, I spent days and days alone in my room – not always by choice. But I was only a child, and I wasn’t old enough to be my own parent. I was my own elusive, inadequate horizon that I ran to.
“There you are, here in my head. And running around and calling me, ‘Come back. I’ll show you the roses that brush off the snow and open their petals again and again.’” I moved out on my own when I was 17 because I didn’t like being around my mom. But I moved back in with her twice, hoping that things between us would improve, but they didn’t. They got worse. I’ve had recurring, vivid, and intense dreams about this. I even had one last night, and I woke up in tears.
“And you know that apple green ice cream can melt in your hands. I can’t.” I’m the apple green ice cream. Apple green represents wisdom, and melting ice cream the fleeting, uncertain nature of my mother’s wisdom, and how I yearned for her enduring presence and solidity when I was in her hands. And so, I estranged myself from her for many years, wanting to have nothing to do with her.
“So I held you hand at the fair and even forgot what time it was.” But all the time I longed for the loving mother she could be. The little boy in me was so in love with my mom. Being lost in our bubble, just the two of us, such an amazing bond. My mom could be intoxicating to everyone around her, especially to me, her only child.
“Maybe I’m just the horizon you run to when she has left you and me here alone on the floor.” Such a complex mix of emotions. My mom’s traumatic relationship with her mother, the “she” who left her, and now my mom and I were alone on the floor to figure it out ourselves, both broken. The duality of my own personality, inherited from my mom, is also the elusive horizon I’m left with when she wasn’t able to be the mother to me that both of us longed for.
“You’re counting my feathers as the bells toll.” My mom could be a loving, protective, nurturing caregiver as easily as she could be a neglectful, drunk, venomous, and emotionally and physically violent person. My feathers kept me safe, and she was either counting them to make sure I had enough, or she was meticulously scrutinizing them and looking for vulnerabilities. I have copies of letters written back and forth between my mother’s social worker and my grandparents when they were considering adopting her. My mom spent four years in foster homes and children’s homes, and those experiences created a little girl that claimed to “Enjoy being evil to others.” When she was 12, she beat the family dog to death with her fists because it didn’t come to her when she wanted. She violently beat my father more than once, as she did with me. The tolling of the bells comes directly from recurring childhood nightmares I called “The Ugly Light,” whose eminent presence was always foreshadowed by three tolling bells. Ding. Ding. Ding. “The Ugly Light was coming, hide!” It wasn’t until I was 51 years old that I figured out The Ugly Light dreams were about my mom. Her duality.
“You see the bow and the belt and the girl from the south, all favorites of mine you know them all well.” Again, the duality of my mom. The Ugly and the Light. The bow and belt were everything my mom gave to me that I cherish, the strength she armed me with, our covenant and deep bond. The girl from the south was the other side of my mom, abandoned by her mother and destined to live in a Children’s Home for much of her early childhood in 1950’s Tennessee, the girl from the south who enjoyed being evil.
“And spring brings fresh little puddles that makes it all clear, makes it all…” Springtime. Clarity and renewal. Fresh puddles and cleansing. There is hope for me for surviving my childhood, for surviving my mother. Spring makes it all clear, with new perspectives and the possibility of understanding and healing. But it doesn’t. Not completely. It also makes it all…?
“Hey! Do you know? Hey. What this is doing to me? Here. Here. Here. Here in my head.”
It hasn’t been easy being me, mom. I promised myself at age 15 to never have children and to never get married. I’ve never romantically cohabitated. I’ve been a serial monogamist, and I get going before the going gets tough. I’ve been lonely. I am lonely. I’ve struggled with lifelong anxiety, depression, aggression, and emotional regulation. I’ve had issues keeping jobs. I recently survived a suicide attempt. I’m a miniature Ugly Light.
So, it’s Mother’s Day. I wish you were here, mom. I’m 52, five short years away from outliving you. I don’t want to die alone like you did. I want to be happy. I have so much to say to you now, so much that I want to listen to. When you learned you were dying, we spent more time together in those two weeks than we had in the last 10 years. Our very last conversation was the beginning of something wonderful. It was the springtime that brings fresh little puddles. And you suddenly died before we could finish healing. I treasure that final moment between us. I miss you more than anything in the world, I love you so much. I hope you know this. I know you did your best. I’m sorry for the things I said and did too, I also did my best. I wish you were here to talk to. Happy Mother’s day.
Thanks for listening, fellow Tori lovers & Ears With Feet. You’re my therapy. Hugs.

I've collected Persian coins for 20+ years (Achaemenid, Parthian, Persis, Sasanian), but there aren't a lot of great volumes I've come across that strike that balance of informative and entertaining. Most reference works are dry, provide little historical context, but instead choose to focus on how to identify coins, mint locations, oddities, countermarks, that sort of thing.
Context though, I feel is everything and they never taught any concentrated Persian history at my University, so I missed out big time. Professor Lloyd Llewellyn-Jones put out a book last year I've been reading called Persians: The Age of the Great Kings. What he effectively covers is the Achaemenid Period (think Cyrus, Darius, Cambyses, Xerxes, etc.) but he also discusses at length how day-to-day life looked.
I though to share some pretty interesting insights that I hadn't realized or the relevancy of them hadn't clicked.
Relevant to Coinage

• It really burst my bubble to realize that coinage during the Achaemenid period wasn't intended to replace the barter system. To the contrary, Persians actually preferred to use barter in the areas they traditionally inhabited and populated. They continued doing so long after coinage was introduced. However they did adopt coinage in order to be able to trade with other neighboring civilizations, including the Greeks. Siglos were of exceptionally high silver purity so that they could be trusted by other civilizations as fair exchange for their respective coinage. i.e. When accepting payment in Siglos, you knew they were as pure if not more than an Athenian Owl, so you were okay with receiving payment in them when a Persian bought from you.
  
• This explains something I've never got the answer to over the years. Why was the Persian central authority so chill with the idea of allowing Satraps, especially far flung ones in the west, to mint their own style of coins with the faces of local rulers and gods on them? It's because they didn't really care about coinage so much as they did wanting to make sure commerce continued to flow smoothly. There was no point in reinforcing Persian rule through changing the local coinage, unless it was to prove a political point. i.e. Sidon's Double Shekel. This also meant most of the transactions concerning coinage were taking place at the fringes of the empire, not necessarily the middle.
  
• Gold Darics were probably not used to buy things, they were most likely used as ceremonial tokens of tribute. If you're a local ruler and you get a visit from the King and please him, you might be presented with one. They're sort of what $500 and $1,000 bills are now, they're real currency, but they have much more collector and prestige value than to be used at face value. What makes that cool is that someone who handled a double daric or daric, but have been someone noteworthy in society. Makes sense as to why we find them in such great condition all the time. Minimal circulation. I wonder which famous person handled the Daric I own!?
  

Relevant to Persian History and Cultural Practices

• When Persians arrived in what is modern day Iran, they were wandering nomadic people with no desire to build cities. They moved south into the Iranian plateau in waves of migration, each tribe having its own leader / Khan.
  
• When they arrived, there wasn't much going on in the area! The Kingdom of Elam was the only real city state that wasn't nomadic in nature. The Persians struck up a really strong bond with the Elamites, trading livestock and goods with them during years of especially devastating crop harvest losses for the Elamites. Given the Persians were nomadic, they moved with the weather and were well versed in how to continue moving around and keeping livestock safe from natural disasters. The capital of Elam's Kingdom was the city of Susa.
  
• The Medes existed in the area, had their own nomadic tradition and were fierce battle hardened folk. They were especially good with training war hardy horses, making them natural equestrians and with the use of small bows, very effective militarily.
  
• The Medes were trading partners with the Persians, but mainly their overlords. They left the Persians alone as long as they coughed up the right amount of tribute each year. Things changed though when the Medes looked at Babylon and wanted to conquer it. The Median ruler at the time, went a bit too far - overtaxing his subjects to pay for the war and pushing neighboring states to cough up resources to fund the grand enterprise. This didn't work out well for him, because Cyrus, from a prominent Persian family, decided to challenge the Median King after the Median King's nobles indicated that they wanted no part of this long protracted war with Babylon. It worked.
  
• Cyrus evidently was the product of a Median member of nobility, his mother, while his father was a Persian Khan. This allowed him to lay claim to the Median throne and so he began his time lording over the Medians with a certain level of acceptance of Kingship.
  
• Persian children, specifically boys were effectively raised almost exclusively by the women in the community until the age of six at which point they were transferred to their father to learn things that men were expected to do, i.e. military service. You barely if ever see your Dad. Are doted on by adoring women and then all of a sudden, you're learning how to ride a horse. It would have been a real tough transition for a young kid.
  
• Cambyses, Cyrus' son, unlike everything we are usually told was not a tyrannical leader, nor was he 'mad' like other Greek historical accounts indicate. There is plenty of evidence that he treated Kingship as a sacred duty. Including Egyptian accounts of his being respectful to their Apis Bull, participating in religious ceremonies to honor others and being a shrewd political operator.
  
• What they don't teach you is that Darius was not a particularly honorable fellow. He was quiver bearer to Cyrus, then spear bearer to Cambyses, but historical accounts point to him not only being from a very ambitious Persian clan family, but he wasn't connected to the Cyrus and Cambyses bloodline at all. Darius appears to more likely than not have poisoned Cambyses, then conspired with other Persian Nobles to murder Cambyses brother once he tried to assume the throne. Darius wasn't a particularly benevolent ruler. He had to deal with and put down a TON of rebellions, given subjects saw him as a usurper and not from the same blood line as Cyrus and Cambyses. He solved that problem through brutal crackdowns and marrying Cyrus and Cambyses wives, among other methods.
  
• Slavery was very much a thing in the Persian Empire but NOT like the Romans. Slaves existed but were not a majority of the population. They weren't treated well, as most slaves aren't anyway in antiquity, Persians even had breeding programs to multiply slave populations. They did menial labor and helped build monumental structures, but they were effectively prisoners of war that had been captured and were skill less. Skilled workers even of conquered territories usually maintained their independence and were contracted by the empire to build and design things.
  
• Persians like the Mayans were incredibly organized with respect to logistics and record keeping. The Persepolis Fortification Archive tablets are a trove of 10,000+ tablets that were found at Persepolis and discuss how local rulers put in charge to act on the Kings behalf had power, but they had to report almost everything to the crown. Those tablets consisted of receipts, legal documents for proceedings, letters between individuals, and even bureaucratic infighting communications blaming each other when something went wrong or a messenger wasn't on time. That was relevant because they had the closest thing to the pony express anyone had ever seen. Even Romans and Greeks, who we are taught were the height of sophistication and organization conceded that the extent of organization of Persian messengers, roadways and infrastructure to move information and goods, was insanely efficient and unparalleled.
  
• Kings didn't change their nomadic habits. The entire royal court moved with the seasons to different parts of the empire that had more favorable climate. What that meant was that 100,000 people were on the move every few months with the King, in a massive moving band of people. There was no such thing as centralized control geographically, the court and King was almost always on the move, everyone came with, wives, children, scribes, animal herders, cooks, slaves, tents (LOTS of tents) and it was all carefully coordinated to make sure it was as efficient as possible.
  

That's all I've got for now. If that perks your interest maybe get the book, if not so much but you want to know more, say so and I'll post a second summary like this when I finish the volume in a few days.

First Issue!

• Author's Note: Hello! Yes I am not dead, yet! And so we march on with the series! I still have more college work to do until I'm done, but we're getting near that. Also I'd like to officially say that Issue #61 can be considered as an official end OF a BOOK 1 for Beast World. PLEASE READ CAREFULLY!!! I SAID end of book 1 NOT the series! We shall continue on, soon enough. So, relax, enjoy the read and if you like what you see, you can support me on my ko-fi page! This is also where I post art drawn by me of various characters from Beast World or other series or one shots I write!

The night before Michael's departure was one of various mixed emotions, that melded into a concoction of both cheer and anxiousness. The human and his tribe of tuskir would share food as they aided their newest member in his preparations.
Woh and Oinna worked carefully together to prepare several vials of poison, diluted with water, as well as a few herbal medicines.
Zurra and Azhul would work the forge, daughter and mother stoking the fires of their smithy's hearth to finish up a steel knuckle duster that the older woman had been preparing to forge from before. After replacing the metal rods on his leather bracers with steel and studding the leather for extra reinforcement, the two put forward their creations for Michael to dawn, to which he was greatful.
Urla and Runhar would share more of what they know about the Rock Backs or what to expect of their leader, but the discussions from before already covered most of that information.
After all that could be done had been finished, a fresh leather backpack of supplies was provided to the human with a few extra tools, besides his own belongings, and then all that remained to do was for them to steel themselves.
Maybe not everyone realized the implications of this separating venture, but one knot that could build in their throats would be at the realization that their newest tribe member was about to leave and depending on how things would fare... he might come back unharmed and with stories plentiful in detail of what happened, he might not return to them at all or, at worst... he'd be befallen by a fate they'd not know of.
A final meal together was being held, most of the people of the tribe awake, decided to remain as such and hold out this white night with Michael, waiting with a discomfort that was palpable in the air. As the time of reckoning was slowly coming upon them, the relaxed attitudes of all involved began to stifle and die down.
Vodra and Nushii were situated closest by him, the latter curled up in a half asleep ball next to Michael, rather than sitting. Runhar, Ghura and Azhul, sat further to his sides, their sitting positions, curving around the fire they all encircled, with Oinna, Zurra and Urla being on the other side of the slowly dying flame. And of course, Woh, unlikely to leave herself out from this gathered vigil, was sat atop Michael's hair, camouflaged partially by his thickened curly locks. Nobody knew what to say, there was nothing easy to bring up, but doubt and uneasiness in one's heart might lead them to speak their mind, out of a compassionate worry.
Zurra was the one bearing a heavy seed of doubt and fear in her breast. As she held tightly onto a metal mug full of steaming broth, she took a brief sip of it as her gaze lifted to look at the grouping around the fire. "We certain this be the correct choice? We coulda 'bandon de Hay-yen group, the whol' allyin' with 'em plan... it is too risky to... well, to do this!" The elderly sow spoke, her voice not showing her usual furious anger derived from passion, but instead upset, born of frustration, fear and uncertainty.
"It might be, but I want to do it. I've been thinking why am I doing this to basically save a group of people with whom we were basically at war a month ago. Their upbringing by their leading shaman and elders is not an excuse for their actions, but wouldn't it be nice to get them a chance? A chance that they are also willing to take, even if they feel skeptical about our intentions and us about their?" Michael looked at Nushii who slept and then exchanged a glance with Vodra who gave a slow nod and blink back.
"Bah! These two's exceptions an' ya kno' that." Zurra said as she then sat her mug down on a crate forcefully, spilling a bit of the contents.
"There ain' no point in arguin'. The deal was struck an' backin' out now will jus' give us headaches with the Rock Backs." Gharna said with a snort which vocalized better than any words that she wasn't thrilled either about this.
"Aye, ma'. Ya kno' already when he makes up 'is mind ta do somethin' he sticks to it worse than blood stains on cloth. Heh... same type-a stubborness that got 'im stuck fer hours keepin' yer forge stoked." Azhul added with a chuckle as she looked at her mother than at Michael, who smiled and laughed with a tired tone.
"Even if we don' like it, we have already all agreed to help make this happen. Otherwise I don' think we'd have put the efforts we did towards preparin' Michael fer da trip." Runhar interjected as well as he sipped his own broth from a bowl.
As the consensus from before had been reaffirmed verbally, the group had fallen quiet once more, in a silence that showed the stewing emotions that bubbled below it. Michael felt it too, he knew what these situations were like from having to deal with them with his own family.
"Well, while I'm gone, hopefully not long, I thought it would be good to get some things done, even if not everything gets finished, I'm thinking that we should keep to a... hm... how to word this? A time line?" The human said uncertain on how to properly put his thoughts in words. Certainly would seem unlike him to struggle with this, but only when his guard was down. In this moment there was no immediate threat, so he was as true to the real him as he could be.
"Oh? Afraid things will stagnate while you are gone due to some of us being uncertain of the situation? Although I certainly appreciate yer concern, none shall remain still while I am here. What have you been thinking of?" Urla asked from her seated position, her inquisitive questioning being as cold as her usual tone.
"Well. I believe there's two things that are need to get done. Integrating the remaining Hay-yen and starting up with trading goods. We still have hos-... injured refugees that are being treated, due to their... shakey condition, right? We need to see that they can adapt to their situation like Nushii and Vodra did. Maintain aid and contact with the Hay-yen settlement, I think this would be best done by working together on things you and they need, maybe repairs and expanding a bit." Michael would say certain of his thoughts on the matter.
"I wasn't going to wait for you to ask, but we'll try to help with that as well. I believe it will be... emboldening to see us work along Tuskir for the others." Vodra said while looking at Nushii. Soon after she'd meet Michael's gaze, with a glint of important purpose in them. "And hence we know not what happened with the old shaman, we could also focus on geting a better grasp on that, as well, since we've been discussing about it."
Michael nodded in agreement, his expression showing that he was pleased with Vodra's additions to his points.
Urla would nod as she listened before clearing her throat. "I see the point. We'll be doing our best here, so make sure you return to us in one piece. That is an order from me to you, as your den mother, Michael." The old sow spoke with utmost seriousness in her tone.
"Understood, Elder Urla." He replied with a cheeky tone, a faint smirk creeping up on his lips.
Soon after the human's reply, the slow steps of Yenna approaching could be herd in the crisp silence of the night. The young Tuskir moved with stuttered and tired steps as he came about closer, holding Michael's phone in one hand and a carving of wood in the other.
"Got your fill of references?" Michael asked with a soft smile as Yenna handed him his phone, tucking it into his leather backpack.
"Aye, but tis ain't based on 'em... keepin' those in me workshop. Drew a few sketches in coal based on 'em, too." The young tuskir said with a tired huff. He then held up the tiny wooden statue that depicted an elderly scars covered tuskir, with a billowing cloak and two handaxes.
Michael looked at it as his heart knotted with a renewed sorrowful melancholy. He held up his hand as his expression asked wordlessly if he could hold it to which Yenna handed it. The human looked at it closely. The carved tuskir struck a pose of on guard and ready to attack, the expression although hard to read for Michael, the eyes were shown with a guardian's battle focus carved into them.
"It looks just like the old man... you have an amazing hand Yenna." Michael said while looking the statue of Spek from all angles possible. Unknown if by accident or if by unconcious choice, Michael ran his digits under the statue's base, feeling it to have been carved up.
Turning it upside down he glanced at carved letters in the Tuskir's written tongue, which to him looked akin to unreadable scratches. Before he could even ask about their meaning Yenna spoke, almost solemnly.
"Tough Hide Spek, The Forever Guardian." The young tuskir said as he sniffled while seating himself near Michael.
"Looks like a good piece, brother." Gharna said from the side with a soft proudness to her voice.
"Indeed. Where are you thinking of putting it?" Michael confirmed his own feelings of admiration towards the small sculpture.
"Thought ya could hold onto it, a reminder o' us fer while yer gone. I was useless in that fight, hidin' with the younger piglets an' guardin' 'em... actin' as if it got to it I could protect them... while you all were layin' yer lives down, fightin'. This is the only thing I'm good at... you were close to 'im so I thought it would be only natural that he look over ya for us." Yenna said with a pain of his own in his words as he verbally flagellated himself over his helplessness.
"Yenna. Don't be harsh on yourself, everyone's got their talents. Yours will be most important." Michael then stood up in a very official manner and he put a hand on the young tuskir's shoulder. "You'll actually make yourself invaluable. You'll be pretty much carving all the handles for the steel peelers we will be selling. And to make the sales go better I recommend making them with engraved designs in the wood or even carving random names into them, since some people love buying stuff like that."
At that point Yenna looked back at Michael, the previous glint of emotionally charged energy dissapearing from his gaze while the unhearable echo of a mute glass crack seemed to make the young tuskir wince. "I'll be what?!"
"Yes." Michael said with a small proud smile as he nodded and patted Yenna on the back.
Gharna couldn't help herself, so she let out snorts, chuckles and short squeals as she giggled. "W-well hah! Ahem... pft... blood brother, you always did say you liked to carve things daintier than plain handaxes..." she added in a teasing tone.
"By the Hunt Father, that sucks for ya Yen-yen." Azhul said trying and succeeding a bit better at masking her chuckles. Still, the large tuskir woman's giggles would be interrupted by a slap on her furred nape from her own mother who seemed to hear her. "AGH! What was that fer?!"
"Who do ya fink is gon' be makin' the blades?" The older buff sow asked while looking at her daughter with mild dissapointment.
Azhul took half a minute longer than she should have to spit out an answer. "Us?" She said while Zurra stared at her with mild dissapointment, giving a single solemn confirming nod. "Oh-... ohhh.... Uughhhhhh... us..." she said with a premptively exhausted tone, as she came to this realization, with a deflating snort and groan while facepalming.
Azhul's reaction managed to rip chuckles and hearty laughs from most of those around, Michael laughing hard enough to nearly keel over from it. As the human took a moment to calm down, the corner of his eye would be greeted by the first wisps of light presenting themselves on the horizon. The moment he saw them, his jovial laugh seemed to drop, his eyes looking at the slowly crawling rays of light as if they were telling him something.
"Well... it seems like my time has expired. I'll... uhm... check my shack once over and make sure I didn't forget anything." The human said as he took a glance into his leathet backpack and then slung it over his shoulders.
"Ah-... alright. We'll start cleaning up here and when we're all done, we'll see you at the gate." Runhar said as he finished his broth, his tone betraying his own insecurities despite supporting this final plan.
Michael nodded back to the captain before taking a few moments to grasp a half asleep Woh and untangle her from the curls at the top of his head. Although he tried not to wake her, the amphoran woke up blinking lazily one eye at a time before her gaze focused on Michael's face.
"Aaagh~... is the borin' talking done, yet?" She asked while stretching relaxed inbetween Michael's digits, then groaning and going limp much like a sibling would when carried by the older one.
"Yeah. And I'm also preparing to leave. Sun's about to come up so I need to get to the Rock Backs." The human replied with a chuckle at the display before leaning down to set Woh on the seat he previously occupied.
The little amphibian humanoid held onto his digits as if to protest the release. "You promise yer comin' back, ye? I've got years o' hugs and cuddle naps I gotta make up for and I'm needin' ya for that." She said while slowly letting go and curling up on the seat, her gullet inflating as she croaked with exhaustion.
"Mhm. Don't worry. I'll come back and that's a promise I intend to keep." Michael said giving Woh a few scritches onto her back, at which the amphoran let a few low and quick croaks akin to a cat's pur.
"Good... an-... don't take too long... otherwise I'm latchin' myself to your face and never letting go, kero..." Woh said while struggling to stay awake, her conciousness fading as she'd doze off.
Michael smile as he laughed silently responding with a nod before making his way to the shack he called a home for the past while. Inside the ex-storage hut, he'd give the place one final cursory glance, making sure to pack a few clothes he nearly forgot thrown about. Once that was done with, as he was about to turn and exit, the door would creak behind him.
Vodra, together with a half awake Nushii, waltzed in slowly. Michael, unsurprised, would turn and smile as he rubbed one of his eyes. "Eh? Going to sleep already? And here I thought you'd see me off at the gate."
"Nushii's about to keel over asleep again, so I thought it'd be good if she was at least in our beds. I for one am not a fan of things such as seeing someone off in a group." Vodra said while leaning against a creaky wooden wall.
Nushii would stumble a bit before flopping herself onto Michael, who, despite being startled, manages to hold himself and the half asleep Hay-yen up. "Why ya need to go? Who are we going to listen to music with as we sleep, eh? Screw the others... my cousin is a doo doo head anyways..." she mumbled and groaned while nuzzling her head into Michael's hair while closing her half open tired eyes.
"Ay... don't say that. Sigh... I know what it is like to have toxic family members... there's no excuse for the things they did, but that doesn't mean some of them can change, ya know? She was really fired up back at camp. She at least seems to want to have you around. Give it a go and see how you feel about it, then decide if YOU want her in your life, ok?" Michael would say while scratching one of Nushii's ears with a hand and petting her shoulder with the other. "Also... please get off... I feel like my bacl or my knees will give out... p-please." He groaned.
Nushii would let out an affirmative yawned yap like noise, although hard to tell what exactly she was agreeing to. She'd push herself off of Michael and then flop onto one of the beds, sniffing about and crawling her way into a curled up position, smack in the middle of Michael's bed.
The human giggled at the sight as he began making his way to the door, where Vodra stood leaned against the wall. "I uhm... wanted to thank you... for everything." He'd say looking at Vodra as he whispered his words.
"Thank me? I should be the one doing that." Vodra replied in the same low tone.
"Well... I wanted to thank you for all the help you've given around, for trusting me, for co-operating in the beginning... for not slitting my throat in my sleep once you two were out of holding, heh." Michael said with a clearly jesting tone towards the end.
Vodra listened silently as her ears would lower, her head turning to look at him. "I see. I feel like I am the one that owes you... thinking about it... it sounds foolish, but getting taken hostage was the best thing that happened to me. Before that I found myself not really caring about much... I just wanted to do what I had to do and sleep... because at least when I was asleep I didn't feel miserable. Now... I'm actually relatively eager to see what I'm doing when I'm awake."
The Hay-yen woman took a moment to glance at Nushii, who had settled in and appeared to be asleep, as she then gazed back at the human and with a rather stiff and awkward motion she's lean forward her massive and hunched frame, pressing her forehead against the side of his face and her snout into his neck. "When we talked about The Devourer... before that... I never even considered if it was not true or fake or at least... not my truth... not what I wanted to believe in. I just accepted it and resigned myself to the fate I was preached to end up with... if not for you... I'd still see each day as a bleak and empty moment of a pointless existence." Vodra said as small whines escaped at times between her words, a wetness taking to her eyes, that Michael felt against the side of his face.
The human would acknowledge Vodra's subtle burst of emotions by wrapping an around her neck, rubbing the top of her head between the ears. "I struggled with something like that to... the feeling of living for no reason only to know you'll die and that the end might be horrible. The faith of my specific tribe of people back home preached of their beliefs in a bleak and depressing manner, too. I hated it and 'cause of it... I still fear death now, but I've been getting better, you will too. No true Gods would want their mortal children to be miserable, instead they'd want them to learn to live satisfied and enlightened lives and... if there's no Gods that await us when it is all done... at least we know we lived in a good honest way, that we deemed fit and that made us happy."
Vodra didn't reply as she shook lightly against Michael, instead listening content. She'd pull her head back to look at the human, half his face covered in a mix of stray fur hairs mixed with a wetness produced by her tears. As if by instinct she'd give his mug a few licks to clean up the mess before pulling back. "Well... y-yeah. That's what I'm thankful for." She'd say as her usual collected self would start showing again. "Now, get going. Don't want those Rock Backs to go back on their deal 'cause you're arriving late. I need to catch a bit of rest anyways..." The Hay-yen would say as she went past Michael and then curled up on her own bed.
"Sleep well." The human replied as one last faint smile rested upon his lips as he exited the hut, the door creaking as he left.
His lonesome steps made the mix of grass and dirt bemeath his boots to crackle and slosh as he walked. Still, Michael didn't hear them as his mind thought of the situation that was awaiting him. Nobody he could trust would be by his side, he'd have to fake his true self for the purpose of apperances and maintaing their ruse.
'Heh... and here I thought I'd never be the type of person to pretend to be someone he isn't, for the sake of gaining something. Sigh... there's a first for everything, I guess. I said the same thing when I was younger about smoking, yet I fell into that myself. Eeeeh... I could go for a smoke... if I had any left.' Michael thought as he then bumped into something akin to a soft pillar.
Taking half a second to recover from his broken focus, Michael looked at the obstacle he bumped, quickly realizing it was actually Azhul. Confused, his mind quickly came to a possible conclusion to her sudden appearance near his old hut. "Oh- Sorry for taking a moment longer to linger! Was saying goodnight to Vodra and Nushii. Took a second longer than I thought."
"Heh. Aye, yer spot on an' no worries. I just wondered if yer reconsidering this whol' thing. Wouldn't blame ya if you just wanted us to fight it out wif the Rock Backs. It'd make things easier honestly." The large young sow said with a clearly jovial tone, albeit with a tinge of exhaustion to it.
"Heh. I couldn't ask that of you all. We barely made it through that ordeal and not without paying hefty prices... all of us." Michael said in a easy tone that tried and failed to hide a bitterness he still held in himself.
"... Michael. Spek wouldn't blame ya fer his death, truly... Ya kno' that, right?" Azhul said in a softened tone as her ears flopped slightly, a small huff leaving her flat snout.
"I know. I discussed this before. I just... it's not wether he blames me or not... it is wether I can stop blaming myself for it." Michael said with a strained face, his expression seeming to tense, his nostrils flared as he pressed his lips together tight, his eyes shining from the moon light with the glaze of tears that coated them, still and unshed. "So, I'll do my best to care for you all... like Spek would have."
Azhul looked Michael in the eye and after he took a moment to release the tension in his body, the large Tuskir woman, went on to wrap her arms around him and embrace him. He'd pull the human's head into her chest as a three fingered hand grasped his back, the other resting onto the crest of his head.
"Eh?! Azhul?! Didn't you say this is somethi-" Michael yelped muffled from the embrance, his previous sombre mood entirely changing, simply from how sudden the hug yhay enveloped him was.
"Aye. Somethin' ya don' just do with anyone, for tuskir that is. Ya hoomans do it for multiple reasons, ain't that about right? Consoling someone, sounds about right as one o' 'em." The built sow said while slightly tensing her arms around him, as if afraid he'll slip from her grasp. She rested her head on top of his, taking a second to sniff his hair lightly.
"Ah-... yeah... that'd be a reason. Heh... thank you... this... does help." Michael said as he wrapped his own arms around the tuskir woman, although unable to fully wrap them around her.
Azhul huffed repeatedly quick and short as her flat nose nuzzled into Michael's curls, before she looked up, staring at the starry sky while still holding him. "Oi. Ya make sure you come back in one piece, ya hear? And don' go dying, getting nabbed, fallin' fer some ditzy nobody's schemes or anythin' that'll keep ya from coming back to... to... to us, ye?"
"Heh. Don't worry. I'll make sure as soon as I'm done there, I'm coming back ASAP... ah... you'd not know what 'ASAP' means..." Michael said from the hug with an awkward laugh.
"Eh. Presume it's some word that's supposed to mean that you'll come quick or as soon as possible. So don' worry. I getcha." Azhul said as she seemed to take a few moments longer before letting go of Michael, the hand that wrapped to the human's back, now lagged behind a moment longer before letting go with a twitch in the tuskir woman's digits.
Michael realizing it wasn't the time to explain acronyms, nodded as she smiled with a relaxed exhale. "Yeah. Just about that. Well. Let's go then. Don' wanna make the others have second thoughts as well." He'd say while starting to walk in the direction of the gate. Still, Michael stopped immediately as he noticed Azhul was still turned back and unmoving. "Ah... you're not coming?"
The large sow seemed frozen for a few moments, her previous hand still semi outstretched forward, as if reaching for something in the air. After her digits twitched once more and a louder sligtly snotty sounding huff escaped her flat nose, Azhul stretched and let out a yawn. "Ah-... w-well... huff ...I already said my piece. Gonna go ahead an' get some sleep." She replied as she then began heading in the opposing direction at a slow pace.
"Oh, right. Rest well and take care! I'll miss ya and your mother! Hope we can forge more stuff together when I'm back!" Michael replied with his spirits properly uplifted.
Azhul staggered her steps at his words, as if from exhaustion. "... C-Can't wait. Come back already." She said as she waved with the back of her hand, still going her way to rest.
Michael nodded despite knowing she couldn't see him as he then headed to the gate. There more words, encouragements and goodbyes were exchanged by all members of the tribe to their departing pink member. After a last awkward moment of half muttered sentences, Runhar had the gates opened, Michael stepping out towards the darkened forest.
Before he got too far and the rest of his tribe closed up their little safe haven, the human turned to them and in the dim light of the few torches around, he said: "I'll miss you all! See you soon!"
From there his departure felt as quick as the wind, as his form faded into the black nothingness of the forest at night. All of a sudden, the time this stranger turned friend spent in this little settlement, in the middle of nowhere, felt a little shorter than before, but not any less important to all involved.

I’m having the hardest time with getting my cricut to write in uploaded fonts. So I gave up and picked a single stroke font in design space. It looks normal in design space and then as soon as I go to make it on the cricut it shows me these tiny little bubbles. I tried ungrouping the letters and I’m having the same outcome. Any help would be appreciated.
(I used my hand to cover an address)

It was a race between The Four Tops and The Monkees, but in the end, The Monkees finished first with "Last Train to Clarksville", winning the 1966 poll. A great song. Well-deserved victory.
1967 is often considered one of the greatest years in popular music, and the year that psychedelia really became mainstream. It's also the year where the British Invasion has pretty much ended. It's also where the counterculture movement really became present in music. It's a year where rock is starting to become harder. Also, 1967 also saw a great explosion in popularity for soul music, which would continue all the way into the 1970s.
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1) “To Sir With Love” (Lulu) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOVQ4vAmM7Y
In the year of psychedelia, British singer Lulu's pop ballad from the Sidney Poitier-led film "To Sir, With Love" became the No. 1 song of 1967, making her the second British female artist to do so in the rock era, following Petula Clark in 1965. She also became the first of two Scottish female solo artists to achieve this, with Sheena Easton being the second in 1981. It was not until 2011, when Calvin Harris, featuring Rihanna, topped the Hot 100 with "We Found Love" that another Scottish artist topped the Hot 100.
I really enjoy this song. Lulu's performance is sincere, warm, and bubbly. I’m a little surprised that it was the number one song of the year, but it's definitely a great track.
2) “The Letter” (The Box Tops) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pyq3PUTnpd0
"The Letter," a blue-eyed soul track by The Box Tops, topped the US charts with 16-year-old Alex Chilton as the lead vocalist. It was written by country musician Wayne Carson. Chilton later co-founded the highly influential cult power pop band Big Star. While The Box Tops never reached the top spot again, they achieved several more Top 40 hits, including the 1968 hit "Cry Like a Baby," which peaked at number two in the US. “The Letter” is also the last song to top the Hot 100 that is under 2 minutes.
I do enjoy this song, but it’s not long enough for me to truly connect with it. I always found it fascinating that Chilton sounds older and gruffer on this song at 16 than at age 23 when the first Big Star album came out.
3) “Ode to Billie Joe” (Bobbie Gentry) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJZ_ViDADOE
A US No. 1, Bobbie Gentry's gothic country song, performed with a simple acoustic guitar and subtle string background, captures the haunting tale of Billie Joe McAllister's suicide in rural Mississippi. Narrated by a young woman with a secret connection to Billie Joe, the song explores her family's indifferent reaction to the tragedy. The mysterious element of what was thrown off the Tallahatchie Bridge has intrigued listeners for decades. Gentry has repeatedly emphasised that the focus of the song is on the family's emotional detachment, describing it as "a study in unconscious cruelty," and stated that the object thrown off the bridge was irrelevant to the song's deeper message.
Fantastic song. Haunting. Very well written and performed by Gentry, who is an underappreciated artist nowadays. You can hear the influence this song had on the singer-songwriter movement of the early 70s. Check out her catalogue - she has several great songs and albums. She also scored a UK No. 1 in 1969 with her cover of “I’ll Never Fall in Love Again”.
4) “Windy” (The Association) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUv9OK4KUv8
The 2nd and final US No. 1 by the sunshine pop group The Association, this song was written by Ruthann Friedman. She initially claimed that she had written the song about a man that she had a crush on (the gender of the song was changed in The Association version), but she later revealed that she had written the song about herself during her mid-20s. She wrote "Windy" in waltz time, but the group’s producer Bones Howe changed it to the more common 4/4 to ensure the song's commercial appeal. The lead vocals were sung primarily by guitarist and new band member Larry Ramos along with vocalist Russ Giguere. Ramos, who was of Filipino descent, was a rare Asian-American lead singer to have a number one hit single.
I dunno about you, but I absolutely love this song. It’s honestly one of my all-time favourites (alongside their US Hot 100 No. 2 masterpiece “Never My Love”). It’s perfect pop. So catchy, and quite danceable. I remember first hearing it when it was used in “Breaking Bad” (how ‘bout a windy, Wendy?).
5) “I’m a Believer” (The Monkees) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4PQAqprjOuA
I’m sure everyone knows this song, whether by The Monkees or the Smash Mouth cover. It was written by Neil Diamond and sung by Monkees’ lead singer Mickey Dolenz. Accounting for strictly sales of singles, this was the biggest-selling single of 1967, excluding radio play. It reached No. 1 in numerous countries all over the world.
Who doesn’t love this song? It may be overplayed, but it’s a classic.
6) “Light My Fire” (The Doors) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLiq8j29Lww
"Light My Fire," the first of two chart-toppers for American psychedelic rock band The Doors, was credited to the whole band but was largely written by guitarist Robby Krieger. The song, known for its erotic lyrics and distinctive structure, epitomises the '60s psychedelic and sexual revolutions. The album version stretches over 7 minutes, while the radio-friendly single cuts down to just under 3 minutes. Krieger drew inspiration from the melody of "Hey Joe" and the lyrics of the Rolling Stones' "Play with Fire." When he brought his initial draft to the band, drummer John Densmore proposed a Latin rhythm, lead vocalist Jim Morrison contributed to the second verse and part of the chorus, and Ray Manzarek introduced a Bach-inspired organ motif. The song famously starts with a single snare drum beat, a suggestion from Densmore.
Wow, I’m shocked The Doors scored a US No. 1, let alone two (their other chart-topper was “Hello, I Love You”). That’s awesome. Great song. Not my favourite song by the band, but still, it’s a classic. I put the single version as the link.
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Rounding out the Top 10 is “Somethin’ Stupid” (Nancy and Frank Sinatra) (No. 7), “Happy Together” (The Turtles) (No. 8), “Groovin’” (The Rascals) (No. 9), “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” (Frankie Vali) (No. 10). An extremely strong Top 10. Even the worst song in the Top 10 - that Frank/Nancy song - isn’t that bad (it's more weird since it's a duet between fathedaughter).
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Be sure to listen to all songs before voting.
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Beh natatawa ako hahahahah naalala ko yung story namin ng crush ko nung HS pa ko hayop.
Transferee ako nun sa highschool, 4th yr na and section 1 napadpad kase galing private at "mataas" daw ang grade. I met this girl through circle of friends kase classmate ko yung friend niya and nameet ko sya mid year, out of nowhere talagang naheadturn ako nung nag approach siya saken. She's bubbly, outgoer, kalog at makulit. Ofcourse maputi, maganda, short, chinita ganon hahaha. Yung classmate ko na friend niya me gusto sakin na "secretly" kase siya pa naman yung medium namin to communicate. Hindi naman naging love trinagle kase tinurndown ko agad yung confession ng classmate ko kase im into her friend talaga.
Sa kanya ko naranasan mag love letter and yung sulat niya sakin nung after prom namin na di niya ko sinipot, nasa kin pa kahit almost 10 yrs old na hahhaah.
We have a JS prom nung 4th yr hs na. Kahit yung mga adviser namin, snship kami even mga classmates ko. So before JS prom pinagharap kami while may event sa school to have a personal agreement na kami yung magfirst and last dance sa isat isa. For a guy torpe, pucha kilig to the bone hahhaha kase may basbas.
At nung JS prom na, beh di ako sinipot. Nalungkot nalang mga kaklase ko kase pati sila hinanap nila yung crush ko, not knowing na may kasayaw na iba. Yes, may kakompetensya din akong taga ibang section. Sa isip ko, de wala yun baka di talaga sya nakaalis. Ginagaslight ko pa sarili ko at maraming questions what went wrong. Thankful nalang dn ako sa mga tropa ko at mga classmates ko na inaliw parin ako, sinayaw ako kahit sira na gabi ko haha. I just found out na hinatak daw pala siya nung nanliligaw sa kanya so ako funnywalain talaga, naniwala
After prom, balik klase na kami. Tapos medyo tinanggap ko na, yung karibal ko na nagwagi.
Tapos one time, pang umaga kami nun, so nagllinis kami ng room. Tinawag ako sa labas tas may inabot na sulat stating her apology and peace offering explaining kung bakit hindi nga daw sya sumipot. Kesyo hinanap niya din daw ako tapos di ako makita. Kilig to the bone na naman si kuya niyo kase me letter. Im a keeper kase when it comes to receiving gifts kaya nasakin parin gang ngayon.
After that, grumaduate na kami at hanggang crush parin ako sa kanya pero di ko pinagsisihan kase nakadamoves as a sinaunang pilipino.
After several years, 4th yr graduating na ko nun sa college, galing sa break up. Siya naman nagparamdam sa fb bigla, siguro nakita yung mga posts ko and chinat ako. She never pop out of my mind nga pagkagraduate namin nung hs kase wala din syang means of communication.
Alam niyo yung tadhana na talaga ang gumawa ng paraan para magtagpo kayo ulit?
We met again. Yes, nagbalik yung sensation. That short, cute, white skin, brown eye, chinita girl that got me nung hs. Walang nagbago sa kanya, she just came out more beautiful. Nasa peoples park kami after getting touch sa fb and decided na magkita then told me what happened to her of all those years na wala sya.
After HS, naging sila nung guy na pinagselosan ko, she trabsferred sa university sa Pangasinan. She told me the "adventures" and "fantasies" they did that got her pregnant. Yes, sakit nung marinig ko yon. Para akong naap wtf sa utak ko. Then bumalik daw sya ng manila to transfer again dahil she experienced miscarriage and nangyari pa nung PE class nila. Turns out, based on her story, she was not being treated well ng boypren niya and also told me kung anong mga abuses yung naranasan niya.
After I heard those things, nabawasan yung kilig and napalitan ng awa. I know naman yung pakay niya kung bakit ako yung chinat niya. Kase option na naman ako ahhaha lintek. Since single din naman ako I said, why not give it a try this time? Baka tama na ang constellation. So we did, mga 1 wk courtship then boom. Kami na, finally. Iba yung kilig, iba yung excitement pag iniisip mo na naging jowa mo yunf crusj mo. I never minded if she got miscarried her child that time but thats the sad part.
Yes, we had a thing... we had s*x sa bahay ko pati sa bahay nila kahit religious ang side ko, damn siya yung unnag napakilala kong girl sa fam. Nangyari yun after the meeting namin sa park. Wala eh, we got excited.
But as time passed by, after maging kami... My sensations keeps telling me something is nkt right. Even my friends seems off sa setup kase masyadong weird yung setup.
In a week of courtship, I set aside the s*x, the chats and I trimmed down our dates.
Shes a demanding one. Lagi syang nagpapasama kahit saan, bibili ng damit, kakain na dapat may iambag daw ako which I know I told her na student palang ako, wala ako maibbgay na material things and I expected to slow things down to the point na hindi dapat laging araw araw tayo magkita kase we have studies.
She's earning through upselling kaya she dont mind spending things but maaan, hindi pa ko earning at alam niya yun.
Another ick from her is the s*x She craves for it like damn, kahit saan to the point na i cant keep up. Yung ppnta ako sa kanila ng madaling araw just to satisfy her offs with me, asan yung romance, kwentuhan and everything aside from lust?
She had a thing for bad boys Sinama ko sya one time to introduce to my friends, suddenly compliments yung isang playboy na tropa ko. May tiwala ako sa tropa kong di niya kakagatin yun but after their meet up, bigla ba naman sa kanya na nagcchat. Sinumbong nalang sakin ng tropa ko na nagchchat sa kanya still compliments him which was weird.
After a week being a bf/gf. I called it off. Turns out, infatuation lang pala yun. Thing is, pinakealaman pala niya yung account ko knowing na hindi ko sa kanya ginawa yun. Nabasa niya yung mga impression ng tropa ko sa kanya pero yung pagdedefend ko sa kanya di niya binasa hahahaha. The encounters we had, sinisi niya pa sakin na kesyo hindi na daw sya dinadatnan, pintok ko daw ba sa looblike wtf, I always pull out bro.
Dun ko npagtanto na tama lang na hindi kami nagkatuluyan. I know na affected parin siya at di makamoveon sa past niya, and if turns out na totoo yunf miscarriage niya... I sense depressed pa sya. I dont wanna heal another broken vase lalo pat galing din ako sa breakup
God, thankfully I dodged the bullet nung hs palang kami. Looking back, thankful pa rin ako dahil nagkaron kami ng closure, malalang closure na sana di na nanvyare hahahah sana di ka na bumalik that time lara nannatili yung fantasizing ko sayo hayop ahhahhahahaha.
Its been 6 yrs na, tapos natatawa pa ren ako kase nasakin parin yung letter na binigay niya after JS hahhahahah

You were right when you said “You are a bad person”.
You were spot on when you produced me in filth, man.
And now I’m careening my neck to the side but it won’t crack.
And now the blood is dripping down from my ear, onto my hand..
Anything is better than depravity, so abandon code.
Anything could place you on that corner in the shuffle.
And now I’m leaving, I left you a letter detailing my travels.
And now I’m leaving, off to be enlightened, enjoy your bubble, yeah-ohh…
Like a lush, can I hide everything that would make a good song?
Like a lush, what’s the rush? The chance you’ll die soon is so small.
And now panicking or dying, wondering what could redeem me.
And now the dye or marble is set or whatever, it’s too late after all..
And now, when I’m dirtied..
And now, when I’m stained…
I claim morality but does it sound more like madness?
I am the brown apple, I claim this stake of blame.
And now I proceed with the euthanasia, scheduled in June.
And now I rip the jewels from my neck, I sully my name..
And now, when I’m stained..
And now, when I’m gone…
You were right..
I am art..
I am a god of shame..
You were right..
My steps are silent when I’m high.
I lit another match because I don’t know my name.
I am art..
I am a god of shame..
You were right..
My ceiling is our whole sky.
I watch the stars be conquered and enchained.
I am art..
I am a god of shame..
You were right..
It’s alright.. It’s alright..
I am art..
I am a god of shame..
You were right..
The gods command me ill.
To all the underestimation of the toll of fame.
I am art..
I am a god of shame..
You were right..
It’s alright.. It’s alright..
I am art..
I am a god of shame..
You were right..
It’s alright.. It’s alright…
(My peeked mind sabotaged me..)
(My damn confusion doomed me..)
(My pure mind sabotaged me..)
(I’m the one I’d hate in a movie..)
(My primal mind sabotaged me..)
(This “canon event” doomed me..)
(My pale mind sabotaged me..)
(I’m the one I’d hate in a movie..)

I wanted to write this post as several people have asked how to find multiple Js. The answer to that is simple but it’s not easy. People who are OE tend to be highly desirable candidates hence why they can land multiple offers. If you’re not at that stage yet, there are things you can do to boost your chances of landing multiple roles and getting on your way to becoming OE.
In terms of the job search, it’s a good idea to bookmark several job sites for your country/industry and look at them regularly. I still check out job boards daily even though I’m not actively looking for another J. Firstly, it’s good to see what’s out there and get an idea of what the job market is like. If you’re seeing fewer postings/lower salaries, that’s an indication that the job market is slowing down. Secondly, you never know when your next OE opportunity will come up. Finally, looking regularly will encourage you to keep your CV up to date so it’s ready to go if you find a suitable opening. You can also reach out to recruiters to help you with the job search, but I wouldn’t rely on recruiters exclusively.
So you’ve found a job you like and want to submit an application. I have been part of recruitment processes for roles ranging from entry-level to senior. Here are my tips for submitting a strong application:

1. Use ChatGPT to write your CV and cover letter (if required) but rewrite it so it sounds like you. It is really easy to spot when applications are written by AI.
   
2. Make sure every point on your CV adds value and start each sentence with an action word. A lot of people make the mistake of writing a CV that sounds like it was lifted from the job description and that doesn’t tell the recruiter what it is you’ve done and what you’ve achieved.
   
3. Bring achievements to life with numbers. Instead of saying “I increased the company’s profits” say “I increased the company’s profits by 30% within a six month period”. If you don’t have any solid stats, don’t be afraid to make some up (just make sure that it’s not verifiable).
   
4. Submit multiple applications at the same time. I like to send applications out in a tranche so I’m not hung up on one organisation.
   
5. Submit applications right before the deadline. This might be my ADHD talking, but I like to submit applications hours before the deadline. ADHD aside, I don’t have to wait as long for a response which is a win in my book.
   

You’ve submitted a strong application and have been invited for an interview. Getting an interview is the most difficult part of the job hunt because most people are culled at the application stage as companies only have a finite number of interview slots. My interview to offer conversion rate is pretty solid and I have come to realise that interviewing is a skill which a lot of people at bad at. Here are some of my tips to ace an interview:

1. Treat it like a conversation where possible. This is not to say you should be casual and let your guard down, but you should try not to see it as an interrogation. Interviewers want to see the human behind the application and treating it like an interrogation is likely to make you way more nervous. If you are job hunting to OE, you also don’t have anything to lose in this interview because you already have a job you plan on keeping. So approach it in a relaxed manner.
   
2. Make sure you focus on how you can add value to the organisation, not what you can get out of it. If they ask you why you want to work for them, don’t mention the fact that it’s remote and you need flexibility. Talk about how your skillset and experience can help the company reach its strategic objectives and how you’re excited about the role.
   
3. Don’t underestimate the importance of enthusiasm. I have been offered jobs over more experienced candidates because I came across as bubbly and enthusiastic during the interview. People ultimately want to ensure that they can handle working with someone for an extended period of time. It’s easier to train someone than it is to change their attitude/vibe.
   
4. Do some preliminary research on your interviewers. I use LinkedIn for this as it’s a good way to get an understanding of their own career path and know what you are getting into.
   
5. Come prepared with good, insightful questions. One of my favourite questions to ask is “what are the three main issues facing the company at the moment and, if I was successful at interview, what would be role in addressing this?” It demonstrates that you are considering the needs of the company and encouraging the interviewers to envision you in the role.
   
6. If the role you are applying for is hybrid, only negotiate fully remote once you have been offered the job. I have written about the bait and switch tactic elsewhere, but it’s essentially where you apply for a hybrid role and negotiate going remote later down the line. Don’t mention this at interview stage, though.
   
7. If you are going to send a follow-up note, ensure it touches on matters discussed during the interview and reiterate your excitement/interest in the role.
   

Happy to answer any questions and pleas feel free to add your own tips!

Overseer's terminal

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink VAULT-TEC SERVER 7-7-A TERMINAL
 
Welcome, Overseer.
Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink
 
[OVERSEER]

[VAULT-TEC INSTRUCTIONS]

[Letter from Dr. Kepler] A Letter to the Overseer from Dr. Frank Kepler:   If you are reading this, then you have been chosen to participate into the Vault-Tec Overseer training program. Congratulations! You are one of the few lucky individuals chosen to train inside of a replica vault for the duration of one month. Your contribution during this training period will help with the research into Vault-Tec’s vault program. You are now a vital part of the most ambitious program ever undertaken by Vault-Tec.   If you have not yet read your instructions, please do so now. They will outline the experimental protocols assigned to each control group. Please remember that deviation from these protocols in any way will jeopardize the success of the program, and may be considered grounds for termination by Vault-Tec Corporation (as outlined in your Employment Agreement).   Once the training program is finished, you will receive further instructions.   Doctor Frank Kepler Director, Evolutionary Research Program Vault-Tec Corporation
  [Instructions]

**Overseer Eyes Only**   As an overseer-in-training, you will be tasked with helping the Evolutionary Research Program (ERP) with observing and documenting the effects of long-term radiation on non homo sapiens species. Using a modified version of FEV, you will be administrating various doses of radiation to a selected group of mammal species. In your desk you will have a list of subjects that you are responsible for during the duration of your training -- Remember that successful completion of the training will help determine whether you have the skills to be qualified to oversee one of the many Vault-Tec vault's. So deviating from protocol or causing damage to any of the equipment may be considered grounds for termination by Vault-Tec Corporation (as outlined in your Employment Agreement).

 
[USER HISTORY]

-Vault 7-7-A Management System-   =====================
VaulTecOS v.82 (C)2076 Vault-Tec ====================== User Log: >>Administrator (Vault-Tec ID 1211-F) >>New_Admin: EGOMEZ Welcome new user, EGOMEZ

======================

 

Lab terminal

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink

-Property of Vault-Tec-

Which TEST SUBJECT do you want to track?   [All Subjects]

There are currently 25 subjects being monitored.   The following species are: 5 cats [Leo, Lady, Milo, Peaches, Tiger] 5 dogs [Astro, Curly, Rex, Sunny, Timber] 5 rats [Acorn, Bean, Frodo, Ralf, Peanuts] 5 birds [Arizona, Edgar, Sam, Tweety, Zazu] 5 rabbits [Bubbles, Cookie, Easter, Fudge, Socks]

  [Cameras]

[Show Rex]

--CAMERA OFFLINE-- [Show Sam] --CAMERA OFFLINE-- [Show Lady] --CAMERA OFFLINE-- [Show Acorn] --CAMERA OFFLINE-- [Show Bubbles] --CAMERA OFFLINE-- [Shutdown the cameras]

  [Research Notes]

[Group 1]

Avian test subjects show minor impact from long-term radiation exposure.   Noticeable physical features include -- minor balding and blistering throughout the body. Subjects are still able to fly with little issues and function as normal.

  [Group 2]

Long-term radiation exposure has effected the rodent species in various ways.   Test subjects have grown much larger than normal rat species. Test subjects also appear to more aggressive in nature and will start screeching and attacking their containment box by biting or scratching nearby surfaces if approached.   Noticeable physical features include -- test subjects have larger bodies, larger teeth, and pearl-like eyes. Additionally, higher doses of radiation exposure causes fur to fall off at an accelerated rate, and the skin to become more winkled and leather-like.

  [Group 3]

The lagomorpha subjects show no behavioral changes to long-term exposure.   Noticeable physical signs include -- slightly larger than regular rabbits. loss of fur in the chest, neck, front legs, and back of the legs. (These areas appear to show scarring and the appearance of boils or warts). Interestingly, small horn-like growths can be seen in each test subjects head.

  [Group 4]

Feline species show no changes to long-term exposure to radiation.   Noticeable physical features include -- None   **Might need further investigation**

  [Group 5]

Minimal exposure to radiation seems to not affect the canine species at all. Over time medium exposure to radiation causes test subjects to grow much larger in size and show more wolf-like features. Long-term exposure to radiation turns dogs into feral-like creatures that strongly resemble the characteristics found in wild wolves.   Noticeable physical features include -- Tougher and bigger bodies, sharper claws and teeth.

  [Messages]

Message from Dr. Kepler

Hello [INSERT CANDIDATE NAME], please feel free to use this terminal to document any of the test subjects changes during your training period. Please try to keep minimal contact with the subjects, remember that you are an outside observer and should remain as such during your stay in the vault.   P.S. I hope that you won't mind me storing some of my own subjects in the vault. The work I am currently doing requires greater attention and a suitable environment with enough space. Please refrain from touching any of the cages or containers that have my name in them. Treat them as if they were my very expensive pets.  

 

Personal terminal

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink
 
Welcome user, EGOMEZ.
Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink
  ***WARNING*** Data corruption detected. Out of [37] files in this directory, [14] were recovered successfully. All audio files have been converted to text.  

PERSONAL LOGS

Please select a file to view:   10/1

Today marks my official transition from a humble junior Vault-Tec employee to potential candidate to the role of Overseer. I am forever grateful to Vault-Tec for giving me this opportunity to demonstrate my leadership skills!   With that said, the job itself seems pretty easy. I don't have to actually manage any people in the vault (thank goodness for that), and it seems like most of the work has already been done for me. I just have to monitor the animal test subjects and document any visible changes. While normally any personal pets or wild animals are restricted from entering the vaults, testing the long-term effects of radiation on non-human species still makes for good science.

  10/2

Okay so after getting a day to adjust to my new environment, I think I know where everything that I need to do is located. The vault is not actually that big compared to the ones I've seen on TV. The overseer's office does feel cramp though, but that might be due to the giant monitors used to observe the laboratories. And Dr. Kepler's "pets"...   It's a good thing that I'm only staying here for one month.

  10/5

So the experiment being conducted in the vault is pretty interesting. It has five laboratories that are all self-regulating. The test subjects are provided with all the food and water they need, and all I have to do is to remember to restock the food every three days. It's all stored in this big storage room that is divided between the test subjects supplies and my supplies. And speaking of my supplies, they provided me with some pretty delicious foods and snacks! Not much for entertainment though, there are a lot of technical books and guides about various handy skills in case of nuclear fallout. Kinda stiff reading, but also understandable as this is meant to be a work assignment.   At least I'll have something to read to pass the time.

  10/8

It's been a week so far and I can confidently say that I'm pretty much ready to be an overseer. The test subjects are doing good. Well.. some of them at least. There are some test subjects that seem to notice my presence and become aggressive, even if they don't physically see me. But the others are peaceful and don't make much noises.

  10/12

This morning I woke up feeling pretty awful. I'm not sure if it was something I ate last night but just to be sure I'll probably stay away from anything that could further upset my stomach. I took some medicine that was in the emergency kit so I should be fine for now. Also, thanks to my predecessors work, I was able to finish writing my notes on test subjects 1-R167 and 3-B496. So congrats me! Now I just have to start on the others.

  10/19

I wish Vault-Tec included more of those fancy lads among the list of available foods to eat during the training. I don't usually have much of sweet tooth, but those cakes are addictive. Specially when paired with some fresh coffee!   Side note, I started to name some of the creatures in the labs. I felt bad just calling them by their designated lab-numbers. I feel it makes it easier to remember and keep track of who is who. Plus, it got me occupied with doing something to do for a while after work.

  10/22

Another day of feeling under the weather, just a little over a week to go before I'm done with the training. This time my voice has given out, becoming more raspy and hard to speak. I found a Stimpak in the Overseer's office, so hopefully that cures me of any illness I might have gotten. To be honest I think it's a fever or stomach flu. I noticed too late after eating them that some of the YumYum deviled eggs I had were in a damaged package. So I should probably be mindful of food safety from now on.   I'm just going to go read and sleep for the rest of day, and hopefully by tomorrow I'll be back to full health.

  10/23

-- Audio File-- Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, I royally fucked up. I was having a late breakfast when the vault suddenly lost power and when the lights went off I accidentally broke one of Dr. Kepler's pet containers. I think it was one of his bug ones. FUCK. I don't even get why Vault-Tec allowed him to store his stuff here. WHO THE FUCK COLLECTS AND KEEPS COCKAROACHES!!!   By the time the lights came back on, there was glass scattered everywhere and some of the computers showed error messages. I swear I better not be blamed for this. GODDAMMIT I was almost done with all of this... What even happened upstairs? There was loud bang sound and then everything went to shit.

  10/24

I have been working all day to try and get the terminals back online. That power out messed with a lot of the devices in the vault. Most of the lab equipment seems fine, but the cameras are no longer showing any video feed. For the time being I've decided to shutdown all test subject cameras to try and conserve some energy.   I was able to find a user manual in one of the boxes in the storage room that was all about terminals, but despite my best efforts I am unable to get things back to working order. Every time I try to send a message out to anyone at Vault-Tec hq, the terminals only show the message CONNECTION LOST.

  10/27

After three non-stop days of dealing with all of the mess from that power out, my body is starting to show signs of stress. The lack of sunlight has definitely made me more dry and wrinkly. I recommend some skin lotion be placed for the next participant. At this point I don't really care if I'm no longer selected to be an overseer. This shit is too stressful to deal with.   Just four more days and then someone will come down to check up on me. I can't wait to go back to normal desk job after all of this is done.

  11/1

-- Audio File-- Did I get the date wrong? No I'm sure I was supposed to be done by now. How come nobody has come to get me...   They better not forgotten about me or be pulling some type of prank. I'm going to file a complain with corporate after all of this is over. What is the point of building a vault if it breaks down after a few issues!

  11/2

Okay something is definitely wrong, I'm sure I should have received some message by now or something. That would probably explain the lack of contact these last two days.   When the power went out it must've damaged some areas of the vault much more than I originally thought. I am going to try and see if I can find something in here that can teach me about electrical engineering. If I can somehow re-route power to that section of the vault, then maybe I can open the door and leave. At this point I will probably start to run out of food without a resupply. So before it gets to that point, lets test out my new skills.

  11/5

-- Audio File-- I was able to scrounge up some spare parts from the broken terminals in the vault and started diverting some power to the area where the vault door is located. I think I might be able to divert enough power from some the labs, but this might cause some issues with the equipment there. I feel bad temporally messing with the test subjects environments, but at this point I feel like I don't have much of choice.   Let's hope this works...   Yes! I got it working! Let's see if the door will open now...   Wait, why are the lights flickering...   [Explosive sounds in background]   oh shit

  11/17

I can't sleep. Can't stop thinking about them, pounding at my door.   I tried to go out when they were sleeping but had no luck. I accidentally slipped on what I assume was blood from some other poor creature. I need to stop making too much noises, otherwise I will be quickly surrounded and then it's over for me.   Why am I being punished? I did everything Vault-Tec instructed of me, I took care of those ungrateful bastards outside. I was just an office worker. I just wanted to prove that I was able to contribute more to this company, and for what? So that they just abandon me in this hellhole?   Well screw it, if I'm going to die anyway, either from starvation or being eaten alive, then I might as well go out fighting.   Fuck you Vault-Tec.   Sincerely, Eddie Gomez