Where to buy electronic cigarettes in overland park

Overlanding. Get out there.

2011.07.05 07:18 HYPEractive Overlanding. Get out there.

Dedicated to the spirit of adventure
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2012.05.18 19:32 Western North Carolina - Land of the Sky

Western North Carolina - the Land of the Sky! Home to the most beautiful mountains, forests, and streams in Southern Appalachia. Come for the hiking, stay for the beer. Come share some local news and photography with us!
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2016.05.11 10:32 Buy, Sell and Trade your K-Pop items

Tired of your hobby? Want to get rid of your signed cd's and posters? Want to trade your photocards? This is the place to sell, buy and trade your kpop items.
[link]

2024.05.23 23:32 InitiatePenguin Saga the Great Pyrennees

Saga the Great Pyrennees
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Shortly after adopting her. Beautiful.
We said goodbye to our beautiful angel Saga yesterday.
She was just over 2 years old when we adopted her on February 25th from the Houston SPCA. She was timid, still underweight but ever so sweet. She had been rescued by ambulance from Pyometra, a very serious infection of her uterus and a hemorrhaged vulva. She was malnourished and had evidence of being a mother. She was spayed and had both her uterus and ovaries removed.
First time meeting her
The night before we went to the shelter her photo appeared on the website - it was our second visit looking for a furry friend, we were the fist family to see her. We didn't know much about Great Pyrenees besides some 'famous' ones on social media. And we were looking for a medium sized dog (lol) but talking with the shelter volunteer who also fostered her for a week assured us that she was the perfect dog for us. We are a couple recently married in an apartment, no kids, no cats, no other pets. We didn't have the schedule to take care of a puppy and just wanted a companion. We were still unsure about the decision at first because it wasn't what we were initially expecting but there was a line of families also waiting to meet her.
Saga was perfect.
https://preview.redd.it/rj8p9d1ps82d1.jpg?width=3072&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=1c08015a041f11aa2a6264e9559c73ee414ec9a1
We were so scared at first, the independent thinker, her unknown past, she didn't play, and if she did and saw you watching she would just lay down. She was alarmingly docile. It was unreal how calm and sweet she was. Within days we also took her for a general checkup with a vet we picked out. They were so surprised we had only had her for a few days but we figured it was a bit like buying a car - trust but verify. She quickly got into mischief, stealing food, climbing on furniture and destroying our door frame.
We barely left a chair untucked
Left it for only a minute
Separation anxiety had her chewing through the MDF, chewed right through despite the bitter apple.
2 weeks in, we discovered she had tapeworms. The anti flea and tick she was given was for <60 lbs. but we adopted her at 60 lbs, It might have been necessary when she was underweight but now we were behind. The vet asked if she was lethargic and my wife tearily replied yes. A single dewormer and a few days started to turn things around.
She started gaining weight, her coat started to come in, her tail looked less like a wiring tail of a rodent and more like the floofball she'd become. A couple weeks later she was avoiding stairs and had a couple cries - we were so worried that she had some kind of early onset his dysplasia - something developmentally when she was still going but under nourished. Luckily it seemed to only be a soft-tissue problem, she was already on the upswing when we mad it to the vet and after a few days of pain relievers and medication she was back to her happy - albeit separation anxious mess. We avoiding crating her because she came from a crowded hoarding environment (and is a rather large dog), we erected barriers in our apartment and she quickly learned she could climb over the couch to get around and onto the dining room table.
As part of the routine bloodwork from her initial vet checkups we got a call she was positive for Heartworm. The vet asked my wife if Saga would play and then just suddenly stop, my teary eyed wife replied yes. We had turned down another dog because she was already active with heartworm and didn't know how we would manage a new and energetic pet to stay calm through their treatment and as first time pet owners (we both had family dogs growing up) weren't sure if we would be able to crack it with our work schedules.
We jumped right in and got her on doxy and the fast-kill method. 30 days of preparatory anti-infection medicine, 30 days of waiting, her first shot, and then a month later two more. She was originally scheduled for her first shot this past Wednesday - but if you're reading this you probably already know that didn't happen.
Her coat came in so beautifully - this was before she starting to shed it!
After her first 'long' walk with Dad.
The next 2 months were amazing. She taught us about the Pyr Paw, her stubborn walks, her energy conservatism - er... efficiency... We learned she loved sand at a local sand volleyball court and park we didn't even know existed a mile from where we live. She still didn't know how to play, just pawing and darting around with afternoon zoomies. We said that we could never predict her next move. She ended up loving a playing with a Gatorade bottle the way it would erratically flip across the room. On her walks she would take census of all the other animals and where they had recently peed, she'd inspect the parking garage for stray cats and sniff every flower. We often struggled to convince her the route to take. She loved the hum are cars and watched the nearby highway for a while. But she hated loud popping sounds, fireworks, and thunder. Rain made her depressed.
She taught us how to be patient. To slow down and enjoy nature, the sights sounds, and smells.
The moment her paws touched the sand she went crazy.
At the beginning of last week the whine came back climbing the stairs. She started to whimper when getting up. We called the vet immediately for another round of medication. It continued to get worse, she cried when standing but is would strangely disappear shortly after leaving the apartment. She was her normal self when out and about.
Later in the week an in-person vet appointment took more x-rays and radiology returned a potential diagnosis of Spondylosis which the vet explained was like a bony bridge between two vertebrae - we understand now that it's a fairly general term for various abnormalities of the spine bone. We weren't going to let her jump out of the back my car anymore, even though I've always had to help her up.
Was she frequently sad or was it just the Pyreense eyes?
She didn't improve. At this point she would scream bloody murder when getting up, be okay outside, but the tail was rare, and she slowed quicker. The Texas heat was also starting to come in. Coming home she would immediately find her bed and rest. She wouldn't rise except to go out, it took both of us to orchestrate so she she could get clipped in and bolt out the door in pain, otherwise she would continue to scream and pull at the leash and have to move to get the door open causing more pain. Thursday was the last day she would eat or drink standing up.
https://preview.redd.it/nmqdg5bmt82d1.jpg?width=4080&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=943a749e87212c036a578500dc4ccbb6f2bcf0db
We called the vet before the weekend at we increased all her medication to the maximum dosage. The next day was no different. The day after she had lower energy but no difference in pain.
https://preview.redd.it/lwh4zzwot82d1.jpg?width=2400&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b940f2d305ab74c647827b9870eb8d5f15259f66
It's now this past Monday, and we asked to change her Wednesday Heartworm appointment to the bloodwork that would be needed by the neurologist for a baseline. Unfortunately they couldn't start the referral process until afterwards even though we knew how limited specialist appts would be. We got the appointment moved up a day to Tuesday. The specialist on Monday had appointments for Tues/Wed/Thurs available. As soon as the bloodwork was done we were able to get a specialist appointment the next morning. The vet in seeing her rapid decline and the drugs not making enough of a distance recommended emergency care. But because she would still eat and drink, although she was growing pickier and wouldn't rise she would still bear the pain to go outside.
The neurologist informed us that she was fairly confident because of the level of pain (which was total because the appointment that morning required her to be off her meds) that she had discospondylitis, a bacterial or fungal intention of the spine which was eroding her bone. An MRI to confirm would cost $4,500, $5,800 with a spinal tap. Then bloodwork would try to identify the exact nature of the infection so the proper anti-biotics could be prescribed. The bill for that day would have been 7 grand. And we used to joke that we avoided waitlists and breeders asking several grand for a Golden Retriever (my wife's favorite - and saga was supposedly a retriever mix). We started to joke that she would cost as much as our recent honeymoon. And after that she'd have to resume Heartworrm treatment for another $1,200-2,000 depending on if we needed to start over.
There's a chance that identifying the exact infection could become difficult. There is a small percentage of dogs where treatment doesn't take at all. She'd be on medication for a year, but if we got lucky on the treatment she could feel better as quickly as a week although some damage would still be permanent. We thought about forgoing the MRI as that was absolutely not able to be afforded - the vet was fairly confident in the diagnosis, but we would never have true diagnosis, or a full picture on the state of her spine. If the infection ever came back, or if more scans were needed to track the process of treatment we would be out of luck anyways.
We made the decision to end her pain, asked for a heavy duty drug to get her back on the feet for the afternoon and went to a local park, bought her Chic Fil A even though we avoided chicken because we read the Pyrenees might be allergic, we bought her soft serve from Dairy Queen. In her last week as she grew picky we cooked her rinsed hamburger and her bacon treats became real bacon. We took her on a scenic drive through the city and parks which she loved watching all the commotion and helped her cool off because the park was quickly getting hot and she wasn't drinking much.
For comfort she would press her head into our arms or sleep with her head tucked against some furniture.
We returned to the animal hospital and spent another hour or two until hitting the doorbell. She knew in the end, she was in so much pain. My wife and I were holding hands, Saga rested her head my lap, which was completely out of character for her - she was not a cuddly dog, but she loved pets, and don't you dare stop in fear of the pyr paw. The pyr paw was so weak in the end... There we a surprising amount of relief in the end when she went to sleep - the past couple of night I had my phone open to my home cameras trained on her various beds praying she would sleep instead of panting her way through the night. Erupting out of sleep at 3am as she cried out trying to shift positions. She was finally able to rest.
We love you.
The three months she had with us was the best in her life. We got her healthy enough to feel the sun and the wind. The reality was that she was always in pain - she just wouldn't let us know. She gave us everything she had left and we gave her everything we had. We've been reflecting on how fast it ended up being but also the way we rationalized some of her behaviors as being a pyrenees - or how they were explained by the tapeworms, and how they were explained by the heartworm. In the end all of our furniture had been flipped up to make sure she didn't get caught with sharp turns. We moved her two beds together to form one large bed because she would often have to shift in ways that left part of her body hanging off the side. Nobody was sleeping. She was our world and we changed the world to make it the way she wanted - those pyrenees always had to have it their way or the highway.
We didn't get the chance to take her to the beach.
We didn't get to explore all the roads she stubbornly wanted to explore.
We didn't get the the opportunity to run off leash.
But we gave her all the love and the world and we were so rewarded in return. Mommy and Daddy love you Saga, you are free to chase all the squirrels you want. There are no trucks with air brakes, no fireworks, no bursting water pipes, no thunderstorms where you are now. You were the perfect 'little' angel, and we love you so so very much.
She was the bravest of them all.

Rest in Peace.

submitted by InitiatePenguin to greatpyrenees [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 23:20 SixshotEspresso Is it illegal for an employee of ours to have withheld IRS mail from us for years? Is there a statute of limitations on such things?

Uhhh essentially the title, but basically, the person my family member had working on their taxes did not file them correctly (possibly on purpose but it’d be hard to prove), and she and an employee who worked for us hid mail that would be delivered to our business address from the IRS for years until eventually she got fired for something else and we found some of the mail we had received as well as possible evidence that the employee had been stealing money to use on their side hustle of flipping houses in the area. The day after the employee was fired, we got a call from the IRS about the debt we didn’t even know we had.
(I’m actually kind of perturbed by that last detail. The agent who was assigned to us was also combative and rather hostile to every attempt we made to contact him. He was eventually removed from our case, but all of this within days of also losing local advertisers because the employee had gone around town crying to everyone that she was “wrongfully” fired I couldn’t help but feel like something was/is up.)
If there was any attempt made to correspond with us via mail it was intercepted and if it required a signature this employee had a rubber stamp with the family member’s name on it that they used to “sign” documents, some of which were used for corporation commission documents, which we did report. I’ll come back to this after a little more context:
The business we owned existed for a long time prior to my family member buying it. The previous owner did in fact make local enemies the most important to this situation was the mayor at the time, and the employee my family member hired became good friends with said mayor as she worked for us. I don’t think he ever trusted my family member, and maybe assumed that our family was going to be like the prior owner, or something, I don’t know.
But when this all happened and we found some of the evidence, we made copies and tried to submit a police report but they took the evidence and we didn’t hear very much from them beyond a couple interviews that didn’t go anywhere, not really giving us solid reasons as to why they couldn’t act on any of the information. We didn’t get anything we gave them back, which I’m not sure if I should have expected or not but they eventually just stopped showing up and didn’t say anything to us about the case after that. The family member was very upset and did make her discontent known to officers when she was around them in a non violent manner, and later had told me a couple times after that she had been followed very closely by cruisers around town and a couple times we found various officers parked in adjacent places in view of our building in a semi hidden manner which also kind of spooked me.
The evidence we submitted to the corporation commission was sent to trial and dismissed, all without the court contacting the person whose name was on the stamps in question at all.
This is word soup , sorry, things have been rather stressful around here for us today so I pose the question of “what should do in this situation? “
I’m not alleging a conspiracy to not take our claims by the police necessarily, but I’m disheartened that most advice I sought up until this point boiled down to “contact your local police!”
Yes we tried to go higher than the local police department, but they told us they couldn’t do anything without it being taken as a case in the local jurisdiction first.
I’m not going to lie, everything that has happened has really made me bitter and ambivalent toward where I live in general.
submitted by SixshotEspresso to legaladvice [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 23:19 RogueDad95 Started playing on Mother's Day

Started playing on Mother's Day
I recently found this game, and from what I can tell I've been pretty lucky overall in my first 11 days 😆. I bought the $40 pack after a couple days just to get going faster, but that's a small investment in a game I can't stop trying to build up faster hahaha. I did spend $2 on a mini game, but I've turned that into almost 700ab now.
I made my first $1 overnight last night, and I'm excited to keep building. I wish I found this at the end of last year when we were all over the country, but I'm here now 😆
My first 2 plots were Epic, and I have done well with getting higher than common when grouping plots together, but the few random plots I have scattered around the area are all common plots.
I bought my whole property, and a few groupings of plots in the parks by my house, and that's where the Legendary plots have been... ..in the parks 😆
How much AB do you keep on hand, or do you just buy when you hit 100? I already have over 20 plots 1 badge and I'm sitting on over 800 about again.
submitted by RogueDad95 to AtlasEarthOfficial [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 23:18 Coldblood-13 Which of these unused ideas would you have liked to see in Terrifier 2?

According to Leone in the commentary for Terrifier 2 there were multiple ideas for kills that were rejected.
1: Originally Art was supposed to stop during his torture of Allie and drink water in the kitchen before going back to torturing her.
2: Originally Allie was supposed to catch Art trying to open the glass door before he jumped through it to chase her but due to technical issues with the door they decided she would catch him in the kitchen doing something mundane after the glass had already been smashed.
3: Art was supposed to smoke one of Brooke’s cigarettes after killing her similar to how people smoke after sex. That was the only reason why Brooke was written as a smoker in the first place.
4: There was a variety of ideas concerning Art’s castration of Jeff including Thornton’s idea to turn his penis into a balloon animal but Leone rejected them because there are certain “lines” he won’t cross.
5: The scene where Art attacks Brooke and Jeff was supposed to end with Art getting in the car, snorting the cocaine they had and then chasing her in the car around the amusement park.
Which of the above ideas do you think they should have gone with and why?
submitted by Coldblood-13 to terrifier [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 22:57 youngggmaxwell Help diagnosing a problem

TLDR: My new to me 2019 F150 XL is turning off while driving on the highway. I assume it’s some electrical issue and need some help understanding how I could fix it! I don’t want to be left stranded again.
I just bought a 2019 F150 XL Supercab. I drove it all the way home from Denver to Montana. However, on a short trip (hour and a half, short for Montana) it died suddenly. Cruise control was on 70 and everything just shut off, it said transmission not in park on the screen. It also made a grinding noise, from underneath the truck it seemed.
A knowledge local rancher ended up pulling over to help us. He figured it was an electrical issue and pulled a few fuses until pulling and replacing one of them let the truck start up (the cluster fuse). It drove well for the next 20 or so minutes and then had the same issue. He was able to mess with the same fuse and get it to start again. We had a friend trailer and tow the truck instead, in case it was damaging it.
We then took it to a ford dealership, a very small one as we’re in eastern Montana. They said they couldn’t replicate the issue. After a couple weeks of no results or communication I went to pick up the truck and noticed it was wet underneath the floormats on the passenger side, where the fuse box in question is. The ford dealership said it could be a windshield leak and that could be possibly soaking the electronics. They recommended a glass shop. We took it there, he said that he couldn’t find any leak. He said that he thinks the dealership may have just left the window down and that’s where the water is from. He did however bump something while working around the passenger seat fuse box and the truck shut off. He said it may have to do with the ground? He said it was loose and tightened it. He recommended we take it to another dealership.
The next closest dealership is 3 or so hours away. We called them and they didn’t seem too sure, they said maybe the used lot we bought it off of soaked it while detailing the car, and that’s where the issues are coming from.
Has anyone had any problems similar to this? I’m not super handy or mechanically inclined but electrical stuff goes completely over my head.
submitted by youngggmaxwell to f150 [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 22:44 Soft_Thought7019 Padme Amidala Mickey Ears

Hello Everyone, I am heading to Disneyland on Saturday for my Birthday. And I am wondering if you guys have seen the new Padme Amidala Mickey ears?
Where I would go to buy them in the Disneyland Park?
Thank you so much!
submitted by Soft_Thought7019 to DisneylandTips [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 22:44 BOfficeStats Domestic BOT Presale Tracking (May 23). Final Thursday preview comps/predictions: Furiosa ($3.99M/$4.09M) and Garfield ($1.23M/$1.38M). Garfield is estimated to have grossed $0.57M from Early Access showings.

BoxOfficeTheory Presale Tracking
USA Showtimes As of May 17
Presales Data (Google Sheets Link)
BoxOfficeReport Previews
DOMESTIC PRESALES
Furiosa Average Thursday Comp/Prediction assuming $3.5M for crazymoviekid, $5M for el sid, $4.4M for keysersoze123, and $4M for YM!: $3.99M/$4.09M
Hit Man
The Garfield Movie EA Estimate: $0.57M
The Garfield Movie Thursday Comp/Prediction assuming $1.55M for keysersoze123: $1.23M/$1.38M
Domestic Calendar Dates (last updated May 16):
MAY
JUNE
JULY
AUGUST
Presale Tracking Posts:
April 23
April 25
April 27
April 30
May 2
May 4
May 7
May 9
May 11
May 14
May 16
May 18
May 21
Note: I have removed most tracking data that has not been updated for 2 weeks. I think there is value in keeping data for a week or two but at a certain point they start to lose their value and should not be treated the same as more recent tracking data.
submitted by BOfficeStats to boxoffice [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 22:13 Historical_Cut_4710 What would you do differently?

TLDR: Would you budget differently? Invest differently? I have no clue whether I’m doing any of this correctly.
Hi! This is sort of a catch all post in that, while I (26, F) think I’m saving and investing wisely, I truthfully don’t know and would appreciate others’ perspectives on whether I should be doing things differently. I don’t come from a financially literate background (I don’t think my parents even have retirement accounts), and I’m trying my hardest to do things correctly here.
I make $117,962 before taxes and live in a high COL area (Washington, DC). After taxes/ health insurance/ retirement, my bi-weekly take home is $2,770 ($5,540 monthly), which I use for the following: - Rent: $1,770 - Utilities: $199 (water, power, cable) - Car payment: $243 - Parking: $150 - Car insurance: $75 - Pet insurance: $25 - Spending: $1,200 (this covers groceries, eating out, doctor’s copays, pet expenses, etc). - Credit card debt: $878 (on course to pay this off by Sept 1 as the balance is on a 0% interest card until that date) - HYSA: $800 - Roth IRA: $100 - Student loans: $100 (this is on deferment until Feb 2025, so my contributions until then go toward the principal. My total balance is $60,000).
*For the two months where I receive an extra paycheck, I deposit those two extra paychecks into my Roth IRA.
**Pre take home pay, $452.16 is put into my TSP account (federal gov 401k equivalent) each month (plus the $452.16 that’s deposited from the two extra paychecks that I don’t account for in my monthly breakdown and instead deposit into my Roth IRA). That figure is 5% of my salary, which is the max amount the fed gov matches.
***I also contribute a mandatory 4.4% of my salary to the FERS, which I believe is the fed gov’s pension. I have no idea how much I’ve contributed to said pension so far, or whethe how that money gets invested.
My current savings include: - HYSA: $14,440.86 (5% APY with Lending Club) - Individual stock account: $2,032.53 (I don’t currently deposit funds into this account) - Roth IRA: $26,306.40 (VOO 41%, VTI 23%, VIG 18%, VYM 18%) - TSP: $23,006.19 (invested in the Lifecycle 2060 fund)
I’d like to buy a house in February of 2026 and want to save aggressively for that (where I, ideally, wouldn’t touch my investment accounts to put 20% down). I assume that we’ll purchase a home in the $500k-$600k range at that point, with a few assumptions (my salary will be closer to $250k when I exit the federal gov, which will likely be in Sept/ Oct of 2025, and my fiancées will be in the $150-200k range). We’d each be contributing equally to the down payment.
So, as my TLDR says, would you do anything differently here? Is my budget breakdown a complete mess? I know I need to save cash more aggressively, but I’m not sure where to relocate those funds from (aside from the debt category come September). Are my investments savvy? Is there another fund I should be investing in?
I appreciate any & all insights immensely!!
submitted by Historical_Cut_4710 to budget [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 21:47 Dry_University_6030 Phone as key…

So I took delivery of my R1T yesterday and everything is amazing as expected BUTTTT……
Using my phone as the key has made me scared to leave the truck alone. Like super scared!!!!
First…. After buying the truck we celebrate by going to a local ice cream spot. Park the truck, we exit and enter the building. Sat out back of the store on the open patio area for about 20mins. We make our way back to the truck and I notice the truck is still unlocked, door handles popped asking for someone to get in.
Second… Multiple times last night while walking past my dining room window which is closest to where the truck is parked (roughly 18ft) I noticed the truck would unlock (lights on and handles/mirror pop). After the 3rd time noticing this I decided to leave my phone in the house and see if the truck will let me drive. I get in the truck, tap the break, into reverse and back to the end of my drive way all with no key, card or FOB in the truck. WTH…. It’s that easy for someone to steal the truck????
Lastly… Today I get to work, park, and walk round 50ft away and notice the truck still isn’t locked. Waited about 15sec. NOTHING. Finally had to open the app and lock the truck.
All of this is not cool.
Who else has this issue or knows how to fix it other than carrying the FOB or slapping a key card to the door handle each time???
submitted by Dry_University_6030 to Rivian [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 21:46 Trash_Tia Every boyfriend I get is brutally dying. Now I know the truth about them…and me.

“It's me, Brianna. Not you.”
That's what my latest boyfriend told me before walking directly into the path of a truck. There was barely anything of him, just enough to peel off of the sidewalk. I thought our relationship was going well. It's not like I'm desensitised to my boyfriend's dying (or ceasing to exist), but it's almost become the norm.
Ben was my first boyfriend in high school, and my longest relationship to date. Fluffy haired Ben with his dimpled grin and freckles. He was the type of guy who should have been popular, but chose to keep to himself.
I met him in the principal’s office. Ben was being lectured for ‘sneaking around’ and I was handing in a late assignment. All he did was wink at me, and I fell.
Hard.
We dated for two years, and I really thought he was the one. Ben told me he loved me, and every Friday he introduced me to a new restaurant. I was in love. I loved *everything about him.
On the night before our senior prom, a drunk driver t-boned my boyfriend's car, killing him instantly. After his funeral, it's like he stopped existing. His parents left town, and every time I mentioned him, my parents would slowly tilt their heads and act confused when I brought him up.
My brother was the worst for it, considering he and Ben were best friends.
But he just looked at me with this weird fucking look in his eye, like his soul had been ripped out. Eyes are the windows to the soul, apparently, and my brother's soul was MIA. “Ben?” His expression crumpled. “Wait, who?”
Alex was my emotional support, who later became someone closer.
Funny Alex.
Blonde-but-not-quite-blonde, Alex.
I met him in group therapy. My boyfriend was dead, and he had just lost his mother. We didn't label it, because he had a girlfriend, and I didn't want to move on so quickly. I think we just found comfort in each other.
Eventually, though, Alex became something I wanted to label.
His sense of humor was a breath of fresh air. I didn't go to college because of Ben’s death, settling for a mediocre barista stop in town. Alex came in every day with fresh coffee and a sugar cookie. I think I loved him. I told him that. Half asleep, I told him I wanted to try and be something more with him. Alex looked taken-aback, but happy.
We spent the night together.
The morning after, I woke to my mother screaming.
Alex was dead in the bathroom, his blood splattering, staining pristine white. According to the first responders, he died of a self inflicted head injury. The exact same thing followed. I attended his funeral, and Alex’s family disappeared.
This time, I went back to his house. But according to a neighbour, his house had been abandoned for ten years. I had eaten pancakes in his kitchen just days earlier.
I broke in to see myself, but my neighbor was right. The hallway was piled with ancient mail and threats of eviction. Alex’s room didn't exist, instead, a storage room filled with boxes.
When I got home, my family had already forgotten Alex’s existence.
The town had forgotten him, and yet his blood still stained my bathroom.
Following Alex’s death, I was terrified of getting too close to people.
But Esme made it hard.
She was my third relationship. We met at a bar. I was extremely drunk and convinced I was cursed to kill all of my romantic partners. Esme. Cute Esme. Crooked teeth and smudged lipstick and warm Esme.
Do you know that person you meet and you instantly connect with them? The person you're sure is your soulmate?
That was Esme.
I told myself I wouldn't get close to her. But I was already talking to this girl, already pouring my life out to her. Esme sat and listened, her chin resting on her fist. She was a first year creative writing student, and she had a cat called Peanut.
I didn't remember much after that. We hit it off, and next thing I know we’re curled up in the back of her car watching Buffy on her iPad. I told her about my exes, and she nodded and smiled, but I don't think she was listening.
I told her all of my exes have died, and then been erased from existence.
Esme called me cute. She wanted to base a story around the concept, sitting up and grabbing her phone.
I have this memory of the girl I fell in love with at first sight.
She's nodding along to a Smith’s song spluttering from my car radio, typing on her phone. I can hear the tapping of her nails, her lips curving into a smile. I can see the exact moment she gets inspiration, pulling her knees to her chest. She's wearing fishnet tights that are torn, and a jacket that doesn't fit her.
She is fucking beautiful, and I don't want to lose her.
Alex was beautiful.
He had pretty eyes and brown curls that I liked running my hands through. Ben was beautiful. He made my heart swim, my stomach swarm with butterflies, when I first met him. Ben was my first love.
The realization woke me up one night, three months into dating Esme.
Both of them were dead, wiped away like they never existed.
And Esme would follow.
At first, I tried to break it off with her without sounding crazy. I told her it was me not her, and I wasn't in the mindset for a relationship.
Esme understood, but her eyes didn't. I didn't want to lose her. Esme lit up every room she entered. Her obsession with thrifted clothes and badly written poems, and her irrational fear of pandas, made her someone I wanted to be with.
So, I stayed with her. I told myself Ben and Alex were just coincidences that were nothing to do with me, and I wasn't indirectly fucking killing the people I fell in love with.
I avoided the ‘L’ word for as long as I could.
It slipped out on my way to work. Esme was driving.
I just said it, and her eyes lit up. She reached out and squeezed my hand.
At work, one of my colleagues, Jasper, caught my eye. When I twisted around to ask him to grab something, I glimpsed his phone screen. It looked like Tinder, though I didn't recognise the layout. It reminded me of Twitter, in dark mode. Jasper was leaning against the counter, his thumb hovering over a photo of Esme, chewing his bottom lip.
I watched his thumb prance across the screen, before he gave up and swiped left.
Finishing up the woman's coffee, I handed it over.
“Uhh, I asked for cream.”
Ignoring her, I sidled in front of my colleague, hyper focused on whatever app he was playing around with. “What's that?”
Jasper looked up, his eyes widening, lips parting, like a fucking goldfish.
“Clearly nothing.” Jasper side-stepped me, opening the refrigerator and pulling out milk. But he already had milk. The bastard was stalling. We had zero customers waiting, so it was the two of us, and a long, dragged out pause.
Jumping up and down on the heels of his feet, he shot me his usual grin, slipping his phone in his apron.
Jasper may have been smiling, though there was something twisted in his expression.
I couldn't stop myself. “Was that a dating app?”
“Dating app?”
“Excuse me, can I get what I ordered?” The woman demanded, waving her coffee in the air. “I asked for whipped cream.”
Jasper saw that as an excuse, an escape, and nodded, fashioning a grin. He saw an opportunity, and took it. “Of course, Ma’am! I'll get that for you!” He said, with a little too much sarcasm. The boy took her coffee with a spring in his step, ducking in the refrigerator for the whipping cream. Jasper added too much whipping cream, dumping the drink on the counter with a little too much force.
It was a good thing my colleague was marginally attractive guy with cropped blonde hair, and a deadpan voice that somehow attracted the ladies.
Jasper could insult someone directly to their face, and they would just blush and get all tongue tied. I had seen it happen in real time. A girl was flirting with him, and used a bad pick-up line, which was something along the lines of, “Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”
He laughed, and her eyes brightened. She giggled along with him, nudging her friends.
But he wasn't laughing with her. I saw the gleam in his eye.
He was laughing at her.
Still laughing, Jasper plonked her milk latte down so hard half of it spewed out.
And, with that exact same charming smile, he deadpanned, “Did it hurt when you dropped out of a drainpipe?”
Yeah, my colleague was blessed with good looks.
Otherwise, he would have been punched in the face by now.
Presently, he was being his usual asshole self. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
The woman shook her head, pulling a face.
Jasper had, essentially, ruined her drink. It was more cream than coffee.
When she left the store, I situated myself in front of him when he was counting cash. “What were you just looking at?” I nodded to the guy’s phone sticking out of his pocket. “Was it like… a dating thing you were on?”
Jasper didn't even look at me, his lip curling.
“That's kinda rude,” he hummed, “I don't peek at your phone.”
“Esme Hope.” Was all I could hiss out. “Was she on that dating app?”
My colleague proceeded to stare at me like I'd grown a second head, before his half lidded gaze flicked behind me. Jasper’s expression brightened.
“Oh, Hanna is calling me!” He said, choking out a laugh. Hanna was not calling him. She was in the break room getting high. Jasper slowly backed away, maintaining his smile. “I'll be back in a sec, all right?” He grabbed that same carton of milk with a grin. “Don't you just love when your milk stays fresh?”
“What?”
“Fresh milk!” He grinned. “Mulberry Farm’s finest.”
Jasper was darting away before I could coerce a sentence.
After work, I texted Esme as usual. She was my ride on Fridays.
Esme didn't reply.
I texted her again, a little more panicked.
Hey, are you okay?”
When I called her, an automated voice told me she wasn't available.
Already feeling sick to my stomach, I drove to her place myself. I could see the flashing lights before anything else, blurred red and blue sending my thoughts into a whirlwind. It took me ten minutes to muster the courage to jump out of my car, and ask a pale looking deputy what was going on.
I tried to jump over the yellow tape, only to be politely pulled back.
“Carbon monoxide poisoning,” the deputy told me. “The whole family is dead.” he sighed. “Mom, Dad, and their daughter in college.” I think he was trying to be sympathetic, awkwardly patting me. But I was already on my knees, all of the breath dragged from my lungs. “Luckily, it's just like going to sleep. Monoxide is a silent killer.”
Monoxide is a silent killer.
Was that the same as, “I'm sorry. Ben was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
And, “Alex was silently suffering. He did what he thought was best.”
I didn't go to Esme’s funeral. Mom and Dad and Will had already forgotten her, just like the others. What I did do, several days later, when her name wasn't even a memory anymore– I bought flowers from the store. Roses were Esme’s favourite.
The seller was around my Mom’s age, a plump looking woman wearing a floral dress, long red hair tied into a ponytail. She was on her phone, humming to a tune on the radio.
The Smiths.
“I hope she likes them.” The woman said, wrapping the flowers in red ribbons. She had a strong southern accent that immediately annoyed me.
I took the roses, stuffing them in my bag. “What did you say?”
The seller cocked her head. “Hmm?”
“How did you know they were for my girlfriend?”
The woman sighed, placing her phone on the counter. I glanced at whatever she'd been so interested in, but the screen was faced down. “Esme came in here a lot,” Her lips broke out into a sad, sympathetic smile. I was quickly growing sick of them.
“Esme. She, uh, she told me you guys were dating,” She smiled, “Esme was always buying roses for her room. Sometimes she would stand in here for hours, and just stare at flowers. I think she found comfort in them.” The woman sighed, fixing me with what I could only describe as a pitiful pout.
Urgh.
“I hope you can find the same comfort,” she murmured. The seller handed me an extra rose, and I found myself reaching out for it, my eyes stinging. Fuck.
I hadn't cracked in at least fifteen hours, and that was a record. But now I could feel myself splintering, tears trickling down my cheeks. The Flower lady squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. If it makes you feel better, it's just like going to sleep. Monoxide is a silent killer.” Her words were familiar.
Exactly what the deputy said. Before I could speak, she dumped weed killer on the counter. “Did you know our plant killer is ten dollars ninety nine?”
Her sudden bout of energy took me off guard.
I tried to smile. “I don't want any plant killer.”
The seller nodded, handing me another rose. “Oh, of course, Darling! But it is five ninety nine! Just for today!”
Something pricked me, and I hissed out, wafting my hand.
Damn thorns. I could already see a single spot of blood.
I nodded, sucking my teeth against a cry. “Thanks. But I'll skip it this time.”
I took the roses to what used to be Esme’s grave. Now, it was an empty headstone with no name, no memories, no flowers, nothing. Just like Alex and Ben, Esme had been reduced to dirt under my feet. I stayed at her ‘grave’ for a long time, long enough for the sky to grow dark, and my thoughts darker. I tried to find a logical explanation for the sudden deaths of the people I got close to, but all I could think of was a curse.
So, I started googling curses, leaning against Esme’s headstone, my knees to my chest. Had I been cursed?
Was my family cursed?
According to Google, a cursed object connected with the curse itself.
Which could be anything. Though I didn't remember visiting any ancient ruins, or an old church. With zero answers, I headed home. I passed a guy playing The Smiths in his car. Then a group of older women wearing ripped fishnets.
Esme was following me. Just like Alex’s smell. Fresh coffee and rich chocolate.
Ben’s cologne filled my car last summer. His favourite band was playing all day on our local music station. I drove around with no destination, listening to each one on repeat, until I was losing him all over again.
The sweet aroma of flowers followed me all the way home, and I was tipsy on the smell, when I found myself face to face with a boy. Under the overexposed streetlight, this guy was almost ethereal, thick brown hair and freckles.
He reminded me of Ben. Which wasn't fair. I thought I was hallucinating him, before he came closer, bleeding from the shadow. I saw more of him, white strips of something wrapped around his head.
Wrong.
The word slammed into me when I glimpsed his clothes. Filthy. The guy was wearing a white button down, a single streak of bright red ingrained into the material. His white pants were torn, glued to his legs.
He was barefoot, the soles of his feet slapping on wet concrete.
I didn't realize he was in front of me, nose to nose, until he shoved me. Hard.
“Josie.” His voice was a whimper, despite his narrowed eyes, his lips twisted into a scowl. He was crying, and had been crying, every heaving son sputtering from his mouth. The boy shoved me again, and I staggered. His ice cold breath grazed my cheeks. “What the fuck did you do to my sister?”
“Sister?” I whispered.
Something wet landed on my cheek, suddenly.
Rain.
I wasn't expecting a downpour. The weather was forecasted to be clear.
To my surprise, the guy let out a harsh sounding laugh. The two of us were slowly getting drenched, but neither of us were making a move to get out of the rain. My hair was glued to the back of my neck, my clothes sticking to me.
But somehow, I wanted to stay in the rain. It was refreshing.
When a thought hit me, telling me to get out of the rain, it was shoved to the back of my mind. The guy spat water out of his mouth, shaking his head like a dog.
“Of course,” he muttered, “Drown me out with the rain.”
I found my voice, my gaze glued to intense red seeping through the bandage stapled to his head. He looked like he’d escaped an emergency room. “I don't know anyone called Josie,” I said, “I think you've got the wrong person.”
The guy’s eyes narrowed. He stepped closer, grabbing my shoulders, and I noticed how hollow his eyes were, empty caverns carved into his skull. Eyes are the windows to the soul, and this guy was completely soulless. “I'm only going to say this once,” he whispered, “What did you do to my sister?”
Before I could respond, the guy was being violently grabbed, and dragged back.
Figures who appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
“Let me go!” He cried out, struggling. “You fucking assholes! Let me go!”
His screaming became muffling, when his cries were gagged.
“You promised!” He yelled, his cries collapsing into a sob. “You said if you took me, she wouldn't get hurt! So, where is she?” he met my gaze, his expression crumpling, something inside him coming apart, splintering by the seams. “You can't take both of us, this wasn't in the agreement!” When he was dragged further back, I noticed a car parked at the side of the road.
The boy was pulled inside. At first, he refused, before an extra pair of hands shoved him. “You fucking– mmmphmmhphmmm!”
I heard his fists slamming into the windows.
“Don't take me back there! Please! Just let Josie–” His cries once again collapsed into angry muffle screaming, and I felt my hands moving towards my pocket for my phone. This was a kidnapping, right? I was witnessing a kidnapping in broad fucking daylight.
A shadow was suddenly in front of me, and I jumped, tearing my eyes from the car. Jasper, my colleague. He was still wearing his apron, and to my confusion, was swinging a carton of whole milk.
“Sorry, Bree,” He winked, speaking in a single breath. “As you can see, our friend here had a little too much to drink.”
I nodded, craning my neck. Jasper stepped in front of me, maintaining a grin.
“Who is he?” This time, I side-stepped away from him, only for him to copy.
“Just a guy.” He said. “As you can see, he's a little…” Jasper prodded his right temple. “Let's just say he's got a few too many screws loose.” Jasper laughed, staying stock still, blocking my way.
When I made a move to counter him, he stepped in front of me, his eyes hardening. “I heard he lost his family a while ago in a…” He pretended to think. “Oh, yeah, a car crash. Maybe a gas explosion, I’m not really sure.”
I could hear the car behind him, and once again I tried to dart past him. But he was quick to block my way. He was getting closer to me, very subtly backing me in the opposite direction.
“Anyway, this guy is kiiiiind of nuts. Dude still thinks he's got a sister.”
When I lost patience and shoved him out of the way, the car, and the guy, was gone.
“See?” Jasper rolled his eyes. He was still holding milk from work. My head spun. It was 8pm, we were in a suburban neighbourhood, and Jasper was holding half a pint of milk. His apron was stained with coffee, and when I really looked at him, I realized he was out of breath.
He was doing a good job of hiding it, exhaling in intervals, swiping at his forehead to clear sweat. When I noticed, he pretended to run his hands through his hair. “I, uh, I feel for him! Like, I'm sorry his family died, or whatever, but attacking random girls isn't cool, y’know?”
Instead of replying, I stumbled home. It was sunny.
At 8pm.
And when I took notice, I wasn't even wet.
Esme was my last straw. I made a promise to myself to not get close to anyone. The guys and girls I met were friends, and nothing more. Weirdly enough, the only guy I was getting close to was my colleague. I don't know if it was brain damage, or I was finally losing the plot.
But Jasper’s shameless cruelty towards customers, and that quirk in his lips when he made them cry, was kind of hot.
However, he was playing hard to get.
And I mean REALLY playing.
I was in storage trying to find vegan milk, and he was suddenly a fucking expert, spewing milk facts.
When I slammed the refrigerator door shut, he was inches from my face.
In the dim light from a single spluttering bulb, his eyes reminded me of coffee grounds. I thought maybe he was going to kiss me, judging from his softening expression. I felt his hands go around my waist, and I felt myself immediately melt.
I don't know what came over me. It's like, one minute I hated him, and the next… I was suddenly hot. Really hot. And I really wanted to take my clothes off. I thought that's what he wanted to do too.
I mean, his gaze followed mine, piercing, fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt. Before he leaned forward, his breath in my face.
“Did you know that Mulberry Farms is an award winning brand of milk?”
And suddenly, I was no longer hot and bothered.
“I didn't.” I said, ducking into a crouch to search the shelves. “Have you seen our vegan milk? We did have some.”
“Three time winner,” Jasper continued. When I jumped up, he stepped closer, and I felt my cheeks spark. His smile was rare. In fact, Jasper was only smiling when he was talking about milk.
“Mulberry Farms have the best pasteration. It's suitable for everything! Coffee, cereal, or maybe you just want a glass of fresh milk to yourself! Perfect for kids, too! Breakfast time is Mulberry Farms.”
“Are you having a stroke?” I whisper-shrieked.
“Nope!”
Jasper twisted around, shooting me a grin.
I left the storage, however, with butterflies in my gut.
There was no way I was falling for my asshole colleague.
Somehow, though, I was.
Just standing next to him filled me with electricity.
The way he talked down to customers, insulting me to my face… I was thoroughly, and disgustingly, in love.
I tried to stop myself.
I showered in ice cold water.
I ate (choked on) a ghost pepper.
I even asked my BROTHER for advice, who told me to go for it.
I told him Jasper had one (of several) flaws, but this particular one was off-putting.
“He’s obsessed with milk.” I told my brother.
Harry lifted a brow. “Is that a euphemism, or…”
He paused, for way longer than necessary. “So, your would-be-boyfriend has a milk fetish?”
I left his room before he could take that conversation further.
I wanted to say Jasper was the only one who acted weird.
But over the next few weeks, I noticed it in quite a few people.
I was having breakfast with Mom, and she lifted up the box.
“Choco Flakes.” She blurted, “Aren't they just the best?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah, Mom. They're great.”
I prodded the box with a smile. “Only a dollar ninety nine.”
There were so many townspeople on their phones. They walked around with groceries or briefcases, their eyes glued to whatever they were swiping through.
I was serving an old woman, when I caught her phone screen.
I could have sworn there was an image of Jasper.
She swiped right, and I had a hard time looking her in the eye.
The woman was at least in her 80’s. And I'm talking, can barely walk, and needs assistance.
Was she seriously hitting up 25 year old guys?
Walking home, everyone was on their phones.
I stopped at a crossing, stabbing the red light.
It started to snow the second I stepped out onto the road, white flakes dancing in front of me. It didn't even cross my mind that it was almost June. The snow was pretty, accumulating on the ground.
“Oh shit, sorry!”
Lifting my head, a guy was standing in front of me holding an umbrella.
I knew him.
But not from whatever was trying to pollute my mind.
I knew him from a while ago. I knew him from the rain. I knew the bloody bandages wrapped around his head, and soulless, seething eyes I couldn't understand. It was the boy who was dragged away three months prior.
He looked different, his hair was shorter, his face carved into a thing of beauty.
The white strips of gauze bleeding scarlet were gone, his filthy clothes replaced with a white shirt and pants, a trench coat flung over the top. I didn't remember him being this handsome. His dark brown hair had been tamed and curled.
It was his expression that sent shivers sliding down my spine.
His too wide smile and unblinking eyes made me suddenly conscious of two bright lights on the two of us.
So bright.
Something shattered in my mind, and I was aware of a lot of things.
The snow under my feet was too soft.
I glimpsed a single streak of red seeping from his nose, his hands trembling around a takeout coffee cup.
Behind me, people were staring. I could see a group of teenage girls giggling.
“It's him,” one of them squeaked. “It's the new love interest!”
“Bree?” His grin widened, snowflakes prancing around us. His teeth gritted together. I could tell he hated every word. “Holy shit, long time no see!”
He held out his hand, and I could see visible pain contorting in his eyes.
Help me. He was screaming through a twinkling smile.
“Don't you remember me? It's… it's uh, it's Sam!” he laughed. “From eighth grade!”
The lights blinked out, and the thought crashed into my mind. Static images filling my head. I shook them away.
Oh, yeah, it was Sam.
My childhood friend.
But I didn't reply. Instead of saying, “Sam? It's been so long!” I found myself walking, stumbling over to the girls.
Who were rapidly swiping left on their phones.
“What's that?” I demanded in a sharp breath.
I grabbed for the phone, only for Sam to step in front of me. He settled me with a smile.
Behind me, one of the girls fainted.
Sam’s smile didn't waver. Though he did side-eye the girl being carried away. “Why don't I take you out for coffee?”
Apparently, coffee was the code word for hooking up.
Sam dragged me into the nearest coffee store, straight to the bathroom.
When he shoved me into a stall, I didn't know what to say.
“Take off your shoes,” he said in a hiss, and after hesitating, I did.
Sam pulled off his jacket, shook snow out of his hair, and got real close.
“Look up.” He murmured.
I did, my gaze finding the ceiling.
“To your right, a camera is very well hidden, but can be seen with the naked eye if you catch what looks like a red laser,” Sam said. “To your left, another camera, as well as a vent that is currently pumping the stalls with aphrodisiacs. And right now, we are in the red zone. Meaning, you should be conscious.”
He prodded me, and I flinched.
“Mostly conscious.”
His words went right over my head, my mind was foggy.
I couldn't think straight.
I think I asked him what he was saying, but my mouth was filled with cotton.
“Snap out of it,” he said, “Like I said, they're making you feel like this.”
He shoved me against the door, which broke me out of my trance. Slightly.
“I hate what I'm going to say right now,” Sam groaned, tipping his head back. He was sweating, I noticed. Bad. I glimpsed beads of red pooling down his neck. He noticed me staring. “I'm okay, for now. I’m faulty, so the connection is severed. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I…think.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sex.” He said, blinking rapidly. I wasn't going to comment on his slurring voice.
Sam stumbled, fresh blood dripping from his nose.
“We need to do the sex. Like…” His eyes rolled into the back of his head, but he managed to stabilise himself. “Nooooow.”
“What?!”
“Is everything okay in there?”
The voice was a woman. She knocked on the stall.
Sam’s eyes widened, coming back to life a little. “They're paranoid,” he whispered. When I could only stare at him, he pounded his fists into the door. “They think we’re fucking,” he hissed, “So, we need to make it believable.”
“They?” I mouthed.
He didn't reply, swiping at his haemorrhaging nose. “Just… move around against the door. That'll fool ‘em.”
I did, doing my best to shuffle around, slamming my back against the lock.
When the metal clanged, he shot me a look. “Sex!” He hissed, “Not murder!”
Sam jumped onto the toilet bowl. There was an open window above him.
“That's enough.” He mouthed, hoisting his way through.
He helped me through, and I expected to land on concrete.
What I did land on, however, was something… squishy.
Something wet sliding between my bare toes.
Looking closer, I recognised the beaded anklet.
Fishnet tights.
Something animalistic clawed from my throat. I was standing on Esme. Or what was left of Esme. She was just a torso and legs, the rest of her ripped away like doll pieces. I couldn't see her face. I looked for it, digging through what could only be old flesh and pieces of limbs.
I felt suffocated. I grabbed half of Ben’s face that had been ripped off, and then Alex’s tattooed arm. There was so much of them, piles and piles of the same heads, the same filthy and rotting clothes. I was screaming by the time I shuffled back on my hands and knees, trying to wipe them off of my skin.
They were all over me, staining me, painting me.
Sam’s hand slick with blood gently covered my mouth.
“Stay calm, all right?” He whispered. “I would tell you everything is going to be okay, but the truth is, it's really not, there's like, a 99.9% chance you're going to… understandably freak out.”
He pulled me to my feet, letting out a heavy breath.
Blinking rapidly, I could only see… pieces.
Pieces of people.
Legs and heads and torsos all piled into one mass of gore.
“We’ve got maybe five minutes before they realize we’re not doing the devil's dance,” Sam sniffled, “Maybe ten, before my brain short circuits and I bleed out.”
I didn't know I was hyperventilating, until I couldn't fucking breathe.
Closer towards the door, and I could hear… machinery.
I couldn't stop myself. Even when I was aware I was standing in congealing blood.
Rotten bodies.
The dim light led me into what could only be described as a factory. There were three levels, and we were on the highest. Sam stepped forward, gripping the metal bar in front of us. I felt my legs buckling, a thick, pukey slime filling my mouth.
“Soo, I guess it all started when Brianna Timberman was seventeen years old, and rejected by her childhood best friend, Sam Thwaites.”
Sam’s words collapsed into a low buzzing in my ear.
All I could see was a conveyer belt, filled with… people.
Boys.
Girls.
But most noticeably, Ben’s, Alex’s, Esme’s, and Sam’s.
But they start as Ben’s, Alex's, and Esme’s.
I could see regular people, their hair stripped away.
Their skin sliced into, cruelly moulding them into the exact same four faces.
When a large looming needle plunged into the back of an Alex’s head, I couldn't not watch. I waited for the guy to wake up, but I don't even think he was alive.
He stood, unblinking, letting this thing twist and contort his face. And it was then, when I realized these things weren't even human. I could see the mechanics built under their flesh, both living tissue and metal melded together. “Brianna’s father, who is a liiiitle on the crazy side, with too much cash and not not enough logic, took his daughter’s rejection a little too personally,” Sam continued.
“So, he promised his daughter he would find her the perfect match.”
I started to speak, the words coming out before I could stop them.
“My father would never–”
“I didn't say it was your father,” Sam said. His eyes darkened. “Anyway, as I was saying, the townspeople became unhealthily obsessed with who Brianna would choose. So obsessed, in fact, that the girl’s day to day life was broadcasted across town, while her potential love interests were ranked, week after week. First, there was Ben.”
Sam’s smile thinned. “Her high school boyfriend.”
Sam shrugged. “She grew bored of him. Also, he kinda did something unforgivable.”
He continued. “Then… Alex. She liked him, but sometimes, he was a little too unserious. The guy was a clown.”
I backed away, but he was quick to grab my shoulders.
“Finally? Esme. Who she truly fell for.”
I swallowed. “Esme is–”
He cut me off. “But I didn't mention that they hurt her, did I?”
Sam leaned against the bar. Behind him, I could see a figure in white pushing a gurney with a Ben strapped to it. “Ben tried to rape her, insisting she wanted it. Alex dumped her on her birthday. Esme ended their relationship with a one word text. Goodbye.” Sam mimed an explosion. “That was the nail in the coffin.”
I caught blood sliding down his nose. “You're still bleeding.”
Sam gingerly prodded his nose.
“Urgh. Yeah, it's an effect of the severing. I've been in the red zone too long. I should probably speed this up.”
He talked faster, his voice collapsing into a mumbled slur.
“Brianna couldn't take it. Her best friend was ignoring her. Everyone she had fallen in love with hurt her. Esme wasn't returning her calls. Ben was sleeping around right in front of her, and Alex was still being a clown. Brianna’s poor parents found her hanging from her bedroom ceiling fan.”
I shook my head, my thoughts screaming.
“No–”
He held a finger up to shush me. “Let me talk. Jeez.”
Sam folded his arms. “A grieving father would do anything to avenge his dead child, buuut… Mr Timberman took ‘finding a perfect match’ and ‘the show must go on’ a little bit too literally.”
His sickly smile found me. “Which also means going stark fucking crazy. The town wanted more of Brianna, and her life, so he turned his daughter’s failed love life into a town wide TV show, sending the entire teen and young adult populace into here,” he gestured around him. “To make the perfect suitors. Who wouldn't hurt his new Brianna.”
Something ice cold crept down my spine.
He cleared his throat. “Mr Timberman grew, let's say, obsessed, with getting revenge on these specific four people. So, he started killing them–” He coughed.
“Sorry. Us. Killing us for the funny ha-ha, ‘Look at how many times I can fuck with them!’ bit. And then recycling us into someone completely different. Our names are gone. Then our personalities. Finally, our bodies ripped to pieces and sculpted into Brianna’s exes.” Sam poked me in the cheek.
“The cycle continues. They reset your ticker and the town eats it up. They can bring back Esme, Ben, and Alex whenever they want and add curveballs. Like the bad-boy colleague who becomes the fan favorite.” Sam’s lips curved. “For… some fucking reason.”
His eyes flickered open. “However, Brianna will never find a suitor because her father is a fucking sociopath. To him and the town, his dead daughter’s pathetic love life is entertainment.”
He held out his arm.
“See?”
I tried really hard not to look through the makeup.
At noticeable skin grafts.
“I was a Ben.” He said. “Then I was an Alex, and then I was an extra.” His eyes found mine, sad, suddenly. “But who I was originally is kinda gone. All I remember is a deal to protect Josie. I gave myself up so they wouldn't take her.”
“Your sister.” I said.
Sam nodded.
His earlier words hit me. He was talking like Brianna Timberman was dead.
But I was Brianna Timberman.
I was rejected by Sam, yes, but I found Ben.
As if he could read my mind, Sam shook his head.
“Look at yourself.” He said, his voice shaking.
“And I mean really look at yourself.”
Sam stepped closer.
“Because, underneath all of that make-up and the prosthetics and surgery, and fucked up memories, you're just another recycled lump of flesh.” He prodded my temple. “Who thinks she is Brianna Timberman.”
His voice was slurring again, a fresh stream of scarlet seeping down his chin.
“Don't you want to know?” His eyes rolled to pearly whites.
Before he could finish his sentence, Sam dropped to the ground.
I remember warm arms grasping hold of me.
Shadows with no faces.
They pricked me twice in the back of my neck.
A familiar voice in my ear, almost a hiss.
Jasper.
“You are the worst fucking Brianna.”
When I came to, I was standing up, somehow.
At work.
I am Brianna Timberman.
The thought floated around in my head, my memory hazy.
“Hello?!”
A man was waving his hands in front of me.
“I asked for iced coffee, lady!”
Jasper was serving another customer. “Bree, wake the fuck up.”
They were trying to make me think I was hallucinating.
Which was crazy, because my fingernails were still tinted with Sam’s blood.
The marks he'd left on my wrist when he was yanking me, were still there.
Bruised on my arm.
“Bree!” Jasper snapped. “Snap out of it and make the dude his drink.”
“Right.”
The word slipped out of my mouth.
He caught my eye, winking, and Brianna Timberman internally squeaked.
I half wondered what he was. Was he recycled, or an unwilling performer?
Throughout the day, I was fully aware my words were not mine.
Like I was on autopilot.
But not just that.
My thoughts weren't mine, either.
I spent half of my shift staring at my colleague’s biceps.
During my break, I went into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror.
I am Brianna Timberman.
But even when I told myself that, my eyes were too blue.
My smile was too perfect.
My teeth.
Too white.
My shaking hands prodded at my face, at someone else's face.
So many faces, so many skin grafts.
The thought was violent, sending tremors through me.
How many people was I wearing?
I started to claw at my arms and legs, my face.
How many fucking people had I been?
I grabbed a knife and tried to slice at my face.
But there was no blood.
How could there be no blood?!
When I got home, I found my family waiting for me.
Mom, Dad and Harry, all of them beaming.
“Bree!” Mom stood up, her lips stretching into a grin.
My mouth was already moving, but they were not my words.
“Mom!”
I didn't know why she was smiling so much, until I saw Sam sitting at our dining room table. His smile was too big. His over-expensive shirt and pants did not suit him, and looked fucking gross, but somehow my brain thought it was hot. The worst part is, I couldn't and still can't tell which Sam he was.
Was he the guy who told me the horrific reality of my existence?
Or was he another recycled, mindless suitor?
“This is Samuel.” Mom said, and Sam slowly stood.
He took slow steps towards me, and kissed my hand.
I saw the slightest smudge of scarlet, but his eyes were blank.
In the corner of my eye, my ‘father’s’ eyes were glittering.
“Hello, Brianna.” Sam said, and I swore Now that I was awake, the walls were wolf-whistling. Laughing.
Ooohhhhhhhhh!”
My town is a blip on the map.
We’re so small, so insignificant, not even a Google search will find us.
I keep thinking if I tear at my skin, I will find who I am underneath. But I'm so fucking scared. I don't bleed. I don't think who I was still exists under so many layers. But even if this is just a cry into the void, please help us.
I don't want to be Brianna Timberman.
submitted by Trash_Tia to nosleep [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 21:42 Same_Section_253 Apartment Neighbor from Hell

My partner and I live in an apartment on the top floor. The unit has very thin floors and the person below us has called the cops several times to complain about the noise of us walking and/or literally sitting in an office chair etc. One of the times we weren’t even home and the noise was verified to be the maintenance people working on another unit. The cops have said to her that first of all the town has no noise ordinance but that also we aren’t making undue noise. She claims that my partner is “banging and stomping to annoy her” The police even walked the floor on one of the calls while another listened and said that they could hear every footstep and that the floors were just really cheap. We have been back and forth with the management company and they will not do anything about her. The irony is that she is THE noisiest person on earth. She is constantly screaming at her children and on the phone, has admitted that she blasts music from her subwoofer into our bedroom to punish us for walking too much. I believe all of this stems from us complaining to the landlord that her music was too loud. Which I can verify with recorded decibels. Management even had us meet with her in the basement and it turned into an INSANE Jerry Springer style screaming match between her and the manager where the manager said she was going to move her to another building and out people with dogs and kids above her. I still get hives thinking about it.
She literally kicked her kid out for telling her to stop calling the cops on us and he stopped us in the hallway to say that it wasn’t that noisy and to apologize for his crazy mother. She also smokes weed and cigarettes in her apartment all day and we smell it which is against lease policy.
In addition come to find out she has a criminal history a mile long including forgery and 3rd degree assault. We let the management company know this and that it seems unfair that we were given a background check but now basically share a dwelling with a criminal. Their solution? We can move across the hall at our expense, with no discount, to a unit that is less updated than ours and has carpet instead of hardwood floors. They claim that there was no problem before we moved in and so we are the issue. The thing is that we know that our unit was empty for two years and then before that an elderly and very overweight woman who did not move around lived there. We also suspect it was carpeted. So how could there have been a problem?
Do we have any legal standing here? Our plan is to just stay in our unit and get cameras that are in our living areas to prove to police/the management that we are just going about normal business. We plan on buying a home next year and don’t want to dip into our savings to move/hire movers to move our furniture next door. We feel so powerless and stuck. The owner of the building will not even answer my emails anymore. The management closed our ticket without a resolution. I asked the police if we could file harrasment charges over this and they said it doesn’t fit What is the legal opinion of this kind of situation? How can we make this stop other than moving?
submitted by Same_Section_253 to legaladvice [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 21:38 CookinRelaxi Sadik Hakim reminisces on Bird, Prez, and more

http://www.anthonyflood.com/hakimreflections.htm
I was born in Duluth, Minnesota in 1919; my family was musical. My grandfather is still the only black man to have conducted his own compositions with the Duluth Symphony Orchestra. But I didn’t get serious about playing until I went to Los Angeles, after my high school graduation (1937) to visit my father. There I met Dexter Gordon, Illinois Jacquet and other fine young players. When I went back to the Mid-West to go to the University of Minnesota (only one year), I also played with Oscar Pettiford’s family band. The whole family, his father, even his sisters, played on several instruments.
In 1938 I went to Peoria to play with Fats Dudley, a 300-pound trumpet player and singer who played and sang like Louis Armstrong. Morris Lane the noted tenor player was also there at that time. He had to leave town not long after I came because of his involvement with a white girl. In 1940 I myself was run out of Kankakee, Illinois, for the same reason—the daughter of the President of Kresge’s Department Store. These were very prejudiced times and places.
Fortunately Chicago was only 50 miles away. I remember playing with many great musicians there, including the young Wilbur Ware and a tenor player named Buster Brown who accompanied himself on sock cymbal with his foot. I went to work with Jesse Miller, a trumpeter who had been with Earl Hines. A. K. Atkinson the arranger who later became A. K. Salim and who introduced me to Islam, was on alto; Goon Gardner was the other alto. The drummer was Ike Day, a kid, only 15. Ike Day was playing two bass drums then; out of sight; a big influence on Max Roach and others. (He died of an O.D. in New York a few years later).
This group was playing at a club on 63rd and Cottage Grove called Joe Hughes’s Deluxe. The featured acts were female impersonators backed by (real) chorus girls. One night we were playing Stompin’ At The Savoy for the chorus girls when, out of the blue we heard this horn from the front of the club playing over the top of the band. I looked up and saw Charlie Parker. He never stopped playing, just walked right through the chorus girls and came and stood over by the piano. Jesse Miller, who had played with Bird when Bird played second tenor for Earl Hines, had told me that Bird’s ability drove Hines’ first tenor (Bob Crump) to quit playing. A. K. and Goon had also been telling me about Charlie Parker. At that time, of course, Benny Carter and Johnny Hodges were my main men on alto. After hearing Bird that night I forgot about all other alto players.
I started hanging out with Bird in Chicago. (This was years before I recorded with him in New York.) Bird got a gig at the Rum-Boogie, a club on 55th Street and Central Parkway (now Martin Luther King Drive). As my gig with Jesse Miller started later than Bird’s, I would go with him to hear his first set. The band, about ten pieces, was led by an old man who played violin. Marl Young, the pianist, wrote the music for this band—very, very hard but good music. (Marl Young lives in L.A. now and writes for the movies.) Eddie Johnson, a great tenor player, was in the band; Gale Brockman and Billy Orr were on trumpets.
Anyway, Bird was never there for rehearsals. The band would rehearse all afternoon, Bird was never there, and the other members of the band were mad and didn’t like Bird. But the leader, the old man, did like Bird, which is why he never got fired. I remember this incident like it was yesterday. I went by with Bird to hear his first set. He always came about two or three minutes before the show hit. He’d look at the third alto part, glance at his part (he was playing lead); when the curtain came up, Bird was playing that music like he owned it plus adding things to the part. Well this night, Jimmy Dorsey was playing at the Sherman Hotel in the Loop, and he came down to hear Bird. The old man, Bird’s bandleader, knew what was happening. He called Cherokee, which featured Bird. Bird, of course, played like a man possessed. Jimmy Dorsey came back to the dressing room, introduced himself, and said to Bird, “Here man, you need this much more than I do,” and gave Bird his brand-new padless Selmer. I was with Bird the next day when he put it in pawn. I begged him not to. His own horn was a wreck, held together with tape, gummed paper, etc. This didn’t matter to him.
At that time there was a great club on the South Side, the Club De Lisa. The leader of their 12-piece band was a great show drummer, Red Saunders. Chicago was wide open then. You could buy liquor in drug-stores, and clubs were open 24 hours. On Saturday night and Sunday morning, every-one would go to the De Lisa—all the biggest sportsmen (pimps), the top whores, top Mafia hoods who would make the all-time Mafia list, if I could remember names. (I guess it’s better that I can’t). Well, I’d get off my gig at around 4:30 and, with Bird and other cats, go to the De Lisa. Bird would sit in with Red Saunders’ band, which included altoist Nat Jones, a great player in the tradition of Johnny Hodges. Also playing was a great tenor player from Texas, Tom Archia. Billy Eckstine was on the show; this was before he formed his first band. Also the tap dancer Baby Lawrence, who I heard trade fours with Bird on a Limehouse Blues, way up-tempo. This was taken down on a wire recorder, a classic. I don’t know who has this wire recording, which must be worth many thousands of dollars by now. Incidentally, the greatest comedian George Kirby was a bus boy in the De Lisa and got his start there by filling in with comedy.
I remember hearing Art Tatum with Bird in Chicago. After his gig in the Loop, Tatum would come down to a club on the South Side, drinking beer after beer and playing for five or six hours. All piano players in the city would be there. I remember Bird telling me then, “I wish I could play like Tatum’s right hand.”
I did work a gig with Bird in Chicago. For a while we played at the Sherman Hotel with Hot Lips Page opposite Boyd Raeburn’s Big Band. The second day of the gig, we couldn’t find Bird at all for the second set. We went up to our suite in the hotel, where we found Bird out cold in the bathtub. We got him together, he came down, and his playing just scared everyone to death. Charlie Ventura was with Raeburn’s band. The more Bird played, the paler he got.
When Bird left Chicago I rejoined Jesse Miller at the Downbeat Club. Red Allen was also playing there, with J. C. Higgenbotham on trombone. Ben Webster came in from New York to play as a guest artist with Red Allen. But he liked our rhythm section better. We’d play on the one the radio one hour, six nights a week. (It was so very hip then). Well, when Ben left to go back to New York, he told our rhythm section (Rail Wilson, bass; Hillard Brown, drums) he would send for us to come and play with him on the Onyx Club on 52nd Street. We thought he was kidding, but in about a month he sent us first-class sleeping train tickets.
This was in 1944. I was with Ben for 15 months on 52nd Street. Brown and Wilson went back to Chicago when the brownouts came in 1945. New York was it for me. The rhythm section at the Onyx Club became Eddie Nicholson (drums), Gene Ramey (bass) and myself. Many times Roy Eldridge would play with us, or Stuff Smith, or Bob Dorsey, a great tenor player. Then it was Bird—always late. Mike Weston, the Onyx Club owner, would be frowning as Bird came in late, but after a couple of Bird’s choruses, he’d be smiling. One night Bird was very, very late. Bird came in while Ben Webster was drinking at the bar; the rest of us were trioing. Bird picked up Ben’s tenor and said I Cherokee. He played that tenor like he owned it, and Ben was shook. He just kept saying “Give me another double.” The thing about this was that nobody could get a sound out of Ben’s tenor but Ben himself, due to the thickness of the reed, etc. I saw many great tenor players try-Prez, Buddy Tate, Ike Quebec, no good!
During this time I played the Ko-Ko date with Bird as I was living with him at 117th Street and Man-hattan Avenue, in Harlem. I was sent to the land-lady, Doris Schneider, because we were both from Chicago. I introduced Bird to Doris, and a week later he was living there. Later, for a while, they were married. Billie Holiday and her man, trumpeter Joe Guy, also lived in this eight room pad. Bird drew people like Thelonious Monk, Miles, and Dexter Gordon to the scene. Why this place didn’t get busted, I’ll never know. Everything was happening there.
About the record date; Bud Powell was supposed to be the pianist, but he was hung up in Pennsylvania and didn’t get back. Incidentally, the first pianist I heard playing like Bird was not Bud, but Elmo Hope. But Bud played so strong, he just took that style over. Bud was not easy to get along with, kind of a ferocious guy. He’d throw shoes at his little brother, Richie, when Richie tried to listen to us playing. He’d say things like, “Get up off that piano stool, you blind mother----!” to people like [Art] Tatum and [George] Shearing. He and Bird, despite their mutual love and respect, did not get along; their personalities clashed. But I hung out a lot with Bud. I think he liked me because I didn’t try to copy him. Naturally, I learned his tunes, but I didn’t slavishly imitate his solos.
With Bud, as I said, in Pennsylvania, Bird brought me to the record date, and I played on all the tunes except Now’s The Time and Billie’s Bounce. That was Dizzy (who happened to be recording with another group in the same building). For many years I didn’t get credit for this date on the liner notes, which have now been straightened out. Nor did I ever get paid for it. This is because I was still on transfer from the union in Chicago. The union delegate at the studio said that I couldn’t play, but as soon as he left, Bird told me to come out and play. My first paying record date was with Dexter Gordon. At this time (1945) I also recorded with Ben Webster, Big Sid Catlett, Eddie Lockjaw Davis and Bill DeArango.
My association with Bird and Bud helped to bring the new music on to 52nd Street. Bud would sit in at the Onyx Club while I worked there. Most of the musicians there didn’t understand Bud or Bird. Roy Eldridge would take me outside to smoke (everyone smoked then, we called it “gage”) and ask me about what Bird and Bud Powell were doing. I couldn’t tell him, all I knew was that it sounded great, made musical sense, and swung like no other music I’d heard. It made all the other music sound stiff and unswinging. This is what I’d tell Roy. The one exception was Prez, Lester Young.
I had always dug Prez. He used to come to Minneapolis with Count Basie before I left that area. I first heard Prez with his own group at the Spotlite Club on 52nd Street. He had just come from L.A. after his stint in D.B. (the army’s disciplinary barracks, thus the tune D.B. Blues). He had Kenny Kersey on piano. When Prez decided to revamp, I got the gig. Shadow Wilson was on drums (Lyndell Marshall on the road), Prez’s friend Rodney Richardson on bass, Bennie Harris on trumpet. Bernie brought Bud Powell to Prez as we were boarding the plane for our first road gig, but Prez said, “I’ve already got Lady Dense.”
That was me. My name at the time was Argonne Dense Thornton, and Prez called everybody “Lady” (most famously, Lady Day [Billie Holiday]). He had, incidentally, his own lingo for everything, and it took me several months to understand him. But it was all appropriate. The police he called “Bob Crosbys.” If something was a real drag, he called it a “von Hangman.” His most famous expression, “I feel a draft,” could mean that he detected racial discrimi-nation or that he felt bad since you wouldn’t drink and smoke with him. Reefer he called “Ettuce.” Whites he called “grey boys.” (I don’t know if he originated that term.) Blacks were “Oxford greys.” The bridge of a tune he’d call a “George Washington.” When we hit a new town and Prez would go looking for an old girlfriend, he’d say he was going to see “a Wayback.”
This gives me a chance to correct two en-tirely false rumors about Prez. One, he was not a faggot, not at all. Two, he was not into heroin or cocaine: he just smoked and drank. He was a great human being as well as one of the greatest jazz soloists of all time: responsible about money, generous with his possessions, natural, friendly, gentle, as well as creative.
With Prez I recorded the famous hit Jumpin’ With Symphony Sid, which in fact is my composition. The studio man came in and asked us, as we were warming up, to do something with Symphony Sid’s name in it, as we were going back to the Three Deuces on 52nd Street and the disc jockey had his radio show from there. Meanwhile, I was playing this blues melody off the top of my head. Prez said, “We’ll play that,” and we did it in one take. The A&R man just assumed that the tune was Prez’s.
While I was with Prez, the drummer, Lyndell Mar-shall, had a nervous breakdown. At my suggestion, the great Roy Haynes came into the band.
I remember a couple of things about Bird that happened while I was with Prez. Prez and I were in [Washington] D.C. at a club called Caverns, and Bird was also in town with Duke Jordan on piano. Bird asked me to join the band (not, I’m sure, because he didn’t like Duke’s playing, but for personal reasons, which my reply explains). I told Bird, “I love you, but I can’t put up with your not paying people and leaving them stranded in different places. If you did that to me I’d have to hurt you or try to, and I’d hate to have that happen because I love you. I’d rather be your friend and listen.”
Another time when I was with Prez, we had a week off before a gig in Chicago, so I went to Chicago ahead of time to hear Bird and Miles. The saxophonist who had the house band at the club where Bird played was named Eddie Wiggins. Wiggins had a long line of reed instruments up on his bandstand—clarinet, flute, bassoon, alto, tenor, English horn. Bird came in, early for once—no one else in his band was there. He had left his horn at the club. Now Bird had very good connections in Chicago, but this time he had apparently forgot to pay them. He opened his horn case to find all the keys torn off or broken. Without blink-ing an eye, Bird asked Wiggins if he could play the first set with Wiggins’ group. Then he proceeded to play all those instruments, a few choruses on each one, even the bas-soon. Of course, I was dumbfounded; Bird never ceased to amaze me. I remember him astounding some Afrikaaner mathematicians by suddenly solving a problem they were discussing; they couldn’t believe that Bird didn’t have an advanced degree in math. Same thing with chess. Tadd Dameron and Max Roach would be playing up at Dizzy’s, Bird and I would come in, Bird would walk over to the board, make a move and say “Checkmate.” And Bird is the only person who knew me before I became a Muslim and changed my name who never, after I told him my new name, called me anything but Sadik Hakim.
One thing Bird and Prez had in common; I remember both of them cutting Benny Goodman and embarrassing him. When I was with Ben Webster at the Onyx Club and Bird was across the street at the Spotlite Club, I’d go over to hear Bird as soon as our set ended. One night Benny sat at a front table as Bird began his set with Dizzy Atmosphere—way up-tempo. When he looked over and saw Benny, he changed to Dizzy Fingers (a feature of Benny’s). In the first eight bars, Benny turned red, green and all kinds of colors.
Later, with Prez on tour in L.A., we played opposite Benny at the L.A. Auditorium. (Frankie Laine was the between-sets act). Funny thing, Prez played his silver metal clarinet all night, never touching the tenor. He blew Benny away. All of us broke up as Benny turned red and a few more colors once again.
(The story is that Benny gave Prez this old metal clarinet, so maybe there was another reason for Prez to play it that night-Ed.)
I used to play Sunday afternoon gigs with Bird in Philly. The house band at this club had John Coltrane playing alto. At that time the very young Trane was probably the second best altoist in the world. I also played with Sonny Rollins back in the 40s. We both worked in a group led by trumpeter Louis Metcalfe, an older man who had played with Ellington. I used to marvel at how Rollins could get such great solos out of the corny tunes we had to play. He was playing tenor then, but I had known him even earlier, when he was playing alto. (In 1961, I closed Birdland with Sonny) [Birdland closed in 1964.—T.F.]. I also remember some great, unknown saxophonists whose careers were tragically cut short. Like Henry Pryor, an alto player in the style of Bird, who got killed by police in Chicago while breaking into a church to get money for dope. A great waste. Or Lank Keyes a tenor player influenced by Prez, also very great, who O.D.’d in Chicago.
There have been and still are, many great saxo-phonists—Coleman Hawkins, Benny Carter, Johnny Hodges, Sonny Stitt, and today, George Coleman, Junior Cook, Clifford Jordan, Johnny Griffin. Still, no one has had a story to say like Bird and Prez. When I was working at the Onyx with Ben Webster, and Prez was across the street at the Spotlite Club, Dexter Gordon would march up and down in front of the Spotlite with a huge sign saying, GO IN AND HEAR THE TRUTH. Maybe THE TRUTH is what we should have called it. (Bird hated the name Be-Bop, which was Dizzy’s concoction.)
I will take this opportunity to get one other thing straightened out. The tune Eronel, attributed to Monk, is another composition for which I should have gotten credit. When I was at the Onyx Club with Webster, I met a beautiful 17-old lady from Kansas City named Lenore. We were together about a year. The tune I wrote for her was her name spelled backwards. Monk came over to my house one day, saw the music on the piano, played it and liked it, even suggested a chord change (which I rejected). I went to Montreal for a year in 1949, and when I returned, I heard the same exact tune, credited to Monk, on a record he made with Milt Jackson. Monk told me that he just forgot to tell the record company the tune was mine. Incidentally, anyone should be able to tell that Eronel does not sound like a Monk composition.
Monk is, of course, a great genius, and continued on he showed me many of his tunes. Earl Hines and Nat Cole were among the first pianists I really dug. Then Elmo Hope and Bud Powell. My favorites in the last two decades: Hank Jones and Tommy Flanagan—they’re even in my book. In the new breed I like Cedar Walton, Mickey Tucker, John Hicks, for sure Kenny Barron, and Herbie Hancock—when he was playing piano. Electronic music is garbage to me. Everything is too loud to swing and, as Duke said 50 years ago, It Don’t Mean A Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing. Among women pianist, I like Boo Pleasant, Shirley Scott, Terry Pollard. Among the less well-known, Willie Anderson, from Detroit, without peer, and Charles Fox from St. Louis (whatever happened to him?). But don’t let me forget Barry Harris, Walter Davis, Walter Bishop, Bill Evans, Horace Silver, Oscar Denard, McCoy Tyner, Chick Corea, Oscar Peter-son—so many great players, I can’t name them all.
Although I once watched Prez and Coleman Hawkins drink next to each other at a bar (the Spotlite Club, owned by the late Clarke Monroe) for two weeks without speaking, it seems like the musicians were closer in those days. Playing with Prez for those two or three years was one of the best times in my career. And I’ve had many good ones.
submitted by CookinRelaxi to Jazz [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 21:36 cliuDC 5 things to do in SJ this weekend

Hi! Here are some fun things I'm excited for this weekend (plus a new SJ cafe to check out!)

🌟 3 Events to Attend

Shastha Mango Fest
Fanime Con
Africa Day Celebration

🚗 1 Place to Visit

Gilroy Gardens

🍽️ 1 Restaurant to Try

Falafel’s Drive In

👀 New to SJ

Arome Cafe
If you're interested, you can get this as an email every week: https://sj-weekender.beehiiv.com/subscribe
Comment below with other events/places to go you're excited about this weekend :D
submitted by cliuDC to SanJose [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 21:10 Worried-Newt-8670 Choosing between Siskiu D7 and GT Force Sport

Looking at buying a new bike. My old hardtail is not cutting it anymore (Marin Palisades Trail 2). I enjoy riding fast, flowy Blue and Green trails where my tires don't leave the ground much. I am in Southern California and would like to start riding the bike parks in the mountains more often. The Marin got me through Snow Summit and Snow Valley bike parks but I would have appreciated more suspension on both occasions.
I have narrowed my choices down to the following bikes:
From the specs it looks like these two bikes serve different purposes. I am not looking to get massive air or hit Black trails every weekend. I like flowing and fast trails. If you have a better recommendation please share it, ideally under $2000.
GT Force Sport ($1300)
https://www.jensonusa.com/GT-Force-Sport-Bike?xnpe_tifc=xIh_OfoZ4uHJ4FB.bD17xMpsafeWaeiWhFWAhfQZbf8vafeZEksc4FP1hdJLRfXcbdiArkeuOkYZb.ndhIzdbuxdxfbT&utm_source=exponea&utm_campaign=EM%20EXP%2005/08/24&utm_medium=email
Polygon Siskiu D7 ($1449)
https://www.bikesonline.com/polygon-siskiu-d7-dual-suspension-mountain-bike
submitted by Worried-Newt-8670 to MTB [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 21:05 Upstairs_Ebb_117 I need advice on apartment neighbor

I have been having issues with my lower neighbor for years. I live alone with just my dog, no kids, and I'm an introverted individual. I go to work and hang out with my dog. Rarely anyone comes over, and never more than one person. It started with him calling management telling them I'm smoking in my apartment (I don't smoke cigarettes or weed, drink, or do drugs. I am a DOT driver). After several apartment checks with management and that being cleared, he upped it to calling the police. Same scenario: I let them in and do a visual and smell check every time they came. They don't come anymore. Then it progressed when I got a girlfriend. Anytime he was on his balcony, he would record her walking to my place. It got to the point where if she saw him, she would park on the other side of the complex and walk up the back, where sometimes he would meet her at the stairs, video and light on phone. Then it progressed to him printing out notes and taping them all over the building. Some about my dog, some about smoking, some about me being a squatter. I haven't missed a rent payment or been late on a bill in over a decade, so I don't know what he was going on about that. And last night, I was in my sunroom, basically an enclosed balcony above his balcony, where I keep my computer and was doing some online coursework. From 9:30 to 10:30, he was beating on his balcony ceiling to the point where I could feel it in my feet, and my friend could hear it through our Discord call. I've told management about this over and over, and they have yet to do anything to correct this. I like where I live and my apartment. I don't want to move, along with rent skyrocketing in my area.
submitted by Upstairs_Ebb_117 to BadNeighbors [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 20:54 Vortigaunt11 Seems like all 36'' gas ranges are mostly garbage now

I know the internet and reddit is where people go to complain about problems, but it really seems like most all 36'' pro-style gas ranges are just garbage these days, even in the well-known brands. I'm looking for a gas only range and had settled on the GE Cafe, but then ran into a blog with so many people (not incentivized) complaining at length about their igniter failing over and over again in Cafe and Monogram gas ranges. This, coupled with the fact that a couple people on appliances have reported unfixable PSU coil whine (the worst sound ever) with the display makes me want to jump ship from that model.
The issue I'm seeing is these higher end ranges have few reliable reviews outside of Consumer Reports (which only tested a couple) and then the manufacturer's own website (which are all sponsored/incentivized more positive reviews for the most part. For example, every retailer displays the same 200 or so reviews from the GE Cafe website.
Looking at the brands out there with 36'' gas ranges ($5-7k) is really demoralizing since now it's almost impossible to find something that's both well-built and has a good network of service providers.
Bosch: No way. Terrible quality on these (think this is built in Italy actually), but their dishwashers are great.
Signature Kitchen Suite (SKS): Made by LG, with the usual lack of good reliability. Very few owners.
KitchenAid: May be ok, but few people have reviewed any of their ranges. No idea if this sucks or not.
Bluestar: People love these and swear by this brand, and they have all replaceable parts. But CR rates them poorly for reliability, and there's tons of people who have had years and years of issues with parts breaking, loud fans etc. I'm sure wen they work, they're fantastic. But most people swear these off after buying one recently.
Fisher & Paykel: Constantly breaking. Haven't found any other positive experiences.
Frigidaire: Probably better built than KitchenAid, but few reviews out there. All retailers link to Frigidaire's incentivized reviews.
Thermador: Not as well built as the name would suggest. Bad at baking (by CR review on the other models). Lots of people found their warranty support was nonexistent, as well as service support networks.
Wolf: May be the best bet at this point since they have a good warranty and repair network, fewer electronic boards that can fail.
Miele, Thor, Zline, BigChill, La Cornue, Bertazonni, Forno, Electrolux: All of these are either ridiculously priced at $8k plus and/or have almost no service network or are entirely dogshit producers (e.g. zline)
submitted by Vortigaunt11 to Appliances [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 20:49 Future-Equal5136 I’m 27 years old and make $325,000 living in California and working in finance. This week I go salsa dancing!

Occupation: Investment Professional
Industry: Finance
Age: 27
Location: California
Pronouns: She/her
Assets & Debt:
Assets: $943,000 in total: $17,000 in cash checking/savings. $171,000 in a 401(K) from my prior job. $36,000 in IRAs. $680,000 in my brokerage account. $38,000 invested in my company’s funds (Valued at my cost basis. I have committed to invest up to $150,000 over the next four years). ~$1,000 between two HSA/FSAs. I am a renter so I do not have home equity.
*Debt: * ~$3,000 balance on credit cards that are paid in full each month.
Income:
Income: $225,000 salary + $100,000 bonus. I received $100K as a bonus for the last two years, so I think this year should be the same or higher in light of a promotion.
I’m also eligible for a portion of carried interest, which is our firm’s profit sharing plan. It’s highly uncertain (deferred contingent compensation that vests quarterly over 5 years) but the estimated payout is $0.5 million in total over the next five to seven years if our investments perform according to plan and I stay with the firm through the full vesting period. This amount could potentially double if our new fund launches as planned later this year. I wanted to include this to reflect my full financial picture, but it’s not money I’m counting on at this point.
Paycheck Amount: $5,884 twice a month. This is after taxes and about $25 per pay period into an FSA. My company covers my health insurance premiums in full and does not currently offer a 401K, so there are no retirement deductions netted out of this amount. The bonus is paid out once a year in December.
Income Progression: I’ve worked in the same field throughout my career. My first salary was $65,000 plus a $40,000 bonus. My income increased significantly over the first few years of my career, including several very generous bonuses at my last job (>100% of base) that have allowed me to save as much as I have.
Side Gig / Extraneous Income: None
Partner’s Income: My partner and I do not have combined finances so I did not include his financial information above. However, we do live together, share expenses, and intend to combine finances after marriage so I thought it was relevant to share his financial information. He makes about $120,000 a year in salary plus equity in his company. His net worth is similar to mine though highly concentrated in semi-liquid private stock. We generally split expenses 50/50 and trade off on a few (he covers the Wifi bill because I do more of the groceries and household spending, etc.). We take turns paying for dinner and travel but generally don’t keep track of expenses dollar for dollar.
Supplemental Questions
Was there an expectation for you to attend higher education? Did you participate in higher education and if yes, how did you pay for it?
I was a very good student growing up so there was never a question that I would go to college, from my side or my parents’ side. I got my bachelor’s degree at a public university. I had a scholarship for the first year and my parents paid for the remainder of tuition and rent which I am very grateful for. I worked during college summers and had internships during a few semesters, so I had savings to pay for groceries, gas, and entertainment.
Growing up, what kind of conversations did you have about money? Did your parents educate you about finances?
Both of my parents have business backgrounds so I am lucky to have had a financial education at home. My parents taught me the importance of saving and helped me open a credit card (to use like a debit card, of course) and investment account during college.
What was your first job and why did you get it?
During high school, I had some informal jobs like babysitting and tutoring here and there. My first W-2 job was working at a restaurant the summer after high school graduation. I wanted the spending money and my parents candidly wanted me to get some life experience before leaving for college.
Did you worry about money growing up?
For the most part, no. My parents did well when I was growing up and still do today. However, my dad’s job had a few boom and bust periods. My dad was between jobs for extended periods when I was a young girl and when I was in middle school during the Great Recession and I remember asking my parents if we were going to be okay. We lived in a nice house and I was never worried about going without something important, but I got the impression that jobs can come and go and you should be prepared with as much savings as possible.
Do you worry about money now?
No, which is such a gift. I’m a natural worrier, so I try to actively appreciate the financial peace of mind that my career has afforded me. I am hoping for an eventual career change, maybe 5 to 10 years from now, into a field that is less lucrative but more personally fulfilling. I don’t worry per se, but I do plan and save in a manner that is consistent with the gravy train drying up in the medium future.
At what age did you become financially responsible for yourself and do you have a financial safety net?
I became financially responsible for myself at 21 when I graduated college and started my first full-time job in finance. At that point, I took over all bills except for the phone bill which my parents still graciously pay.
My savings are my primary safety net. If things were really to go south, I know my partner or family would be there for me.
Have you ever received passive or inherited income?
As mentioned, my parents paid for my college tuition and expenses. When I graduated, they paid for my car and furniture to set up my new apartment. Hard to overstate the value of their financial and emotional support, I’m really lucky.
A few years ago, my parents began giving my sibling and I checks at Christmas as an “advance on an inheritance.” I’ve received about $20,000 in total over four years. I do expect to receive some kind of inheritance eventually, but I don’t count on it and hope that’s very very far away.
Monthly Expenses
Rent: $1,700 for my half of rent for a one-bedroom apartment (Pain. It’s a nice space in a new building)
Electric/WateTrash/Pest/Etc: $65 or so for my half
Wifi: $0, Partner pays
Phone: $0, Thanks Mom and Dad…
TV Streaming: $0, I am a mooch
Car and Renter’s Insurance: $156
Health Insurance: $0, Company pays
Donations: $300 ($100 to three charities each month; I usually add some ad hoc giving at year-end)
ClassPass: $119
AMC A-List: $25
Spotify: $12
WSJ: $11
Apple Storage: $3
Day 1
7:45 AM: Good morning! I’m in a nice mood today because I was able to sleep straight up to my alarm. My noise cancelling headphones won the battle against the construction outside my window today. After my usual scrolling time, I get ready for work and leave the house around 8:40 AM for what is usually a 20 minute commute. I’m in the office four times a week so I “pay the pink tax” regularly, which is what my partner calls my getting ready routine. Do people care to hear about outfits? I usually wear dressy business casual to the office. Today it’s a blue shell with a keyhole neckline from Macy’s circa 2017, black cardigan, black cropped dress pants from Ann Taylor, and black kitten heels from Vince Camuto. I think I am Ann Taylor’s most loyal customer in the under-40 category.
10:30 AM: Pretty quiet week in the office so far. I have a call to learn about a new deal with our potential co-investors. I would rank it a meh out of 10 but consider putting together an investment review page to bring to the broader team just in case. Otherwise, I complete my morning routine of drinking office coffee and playing NYT Games. Our office kitchen is well stocked with coffee and snacks, so I usually eat a yogurt or oatmeal at my desk for weekday breakfast.
12:30 PM: I reheat my meal prepped chickpea curry for lunch. It’s pretty tasty but it’s also my fourth day in a row eating it so I won’t be sad once it’s gone. I usually try to bring lunch to the office, but sometimes I run out of time to meal prep if I travel on weekends and then I resort to Sweetgreen or Whole Foods.
4:00 PM: Pretty leisurely afternoon. My colleague also thinks that this morning’s deal is a meh out of 10, so that’s on hold, and I’m waiting around for some data requests on other deals. I write up a short portfolio update on a few companies I cover to send to one of our investors. There is a close call, as a banker requests a 7:00 AM meeting for next week, but my boss blessedly pushes back and asks for a later time. Otherwise, I work on my Money Diary and start scheming weekend plans.
5:50 PM: Time to go home. Traffic is tragic, as is par for the course on Thursdays. I’ll live.
6:45 PM: I am home and super hungry. I make instant ramen and throw in some baked tofu to bulk it up. I also make a quick cucumber salad with kimchi, soy sauce, chili crunch… and Everything But The Bagel seasoning. I know that’s not a very authentic topping but it’s delicious. I settle in to watch an episode or two of Sex and the City. I just started it and I can’t believe I’ve never watched it before. What a treat! SJP’s body is so banging. I wonder if she ate instant ramen…
7:45 PM: My partner C is home! He got back late because he went to REI for his camping trip this weekend. I ooh and ahh over his new headlamp. He puts his tent together in the kitchen to make sure he has all the pieces. Cuuuuute. And he brought me a red velvet cookie from work! All is well.
9 PM: It’s trashy TV night! I take out my coloring pencils and do a bit of coloring. I watch the first episode of the Ashley Madison documentary on Netflix. Not a lot of likeable characters there unsurprisingly. I need a palate cleanser so I turn on the Try Guys on YouTube which is ironically thematically related.
10 PM: I take a shower and get ready for bed. I write a short note in my gratitude journal and read on my Kindle before passing out. Currently reading Funny Story by Emily Henry (love all of her books) and The It Girl by Ruth Ware (jury’s still out). My first day is a no-spend day, hope that’s not too boring!
Day 1 Total: $0
Day 2
8:15 AM: I get to sleep in today because it’s work from home Friday! I had a dream I was in tumultuous situationships with John Mulaney and Matty Healy… bad taste in men gang, rise up. Anyway… I kiss C goodbye as he leaves for work and get back into bed with some water and a granola bar for my morning screen time.
9:30 AM: Time to make moves. I log into work, make the bed, and get dressed. Today I’m wearing Vuori joggers and an Aerosmith T-shirt I bought at Pacsun in high school. I go downstairs to the apartment lobby to make a latte with their fancy espresso machine. Back upstairs, I settle in with my coffee and put the new Billie Eilish album on TV.
10:30 AM: Bopping around doing emails. I got invited to a Women in Investing event next week by a local bank. They will have a suite at the soccer game! Fun! Unfortunately, it’s the same time as a double dinner date we planned next week. I text C and he’s okay if we reschedule, so I RSVP yes to the soccer game. Separately, C Venmo’s me for my half of the electric bill. I think I missed last month’s notification, sorry, so this would be two months’ worth ($62, included in monthly expenses).
11:00 AM: Our firm closed a deal last week, so as a (small) investor in the fund, I received the deal announcement and capital call today. My portion of the investment would be $6,771. I’ll write that check next week.
12:15 PM: I run out to Trader Joe’s before my afternoon call. Love that I’m in walking distance. I get popcorn, taco shells, two frozen meals, kale, asparagus, chickpea pasta, pasta sauce, artichokes, refried beans, cheese, orange peppers, watermelon, lime seltzer, and guacamole. It’s my cheapest TJ’s run in a while which probably means I’ll be back soon. $50 I get home and make lunch, a pre-made salad with cucumber and tofu added in.
2:45 PM: I had my standing weekly call with a portfolio company and then worked to refine a financial model I’ve been working on. I’m now waiting on input from others, so I have a Greek yogurt and kombucha as a snack. I am still hungry so I crush some popcorn and then do some reading to prepare for a call I’ll have mid-next week about an industry I’m not very familiar with.
4:30 PM: People have stopped replying to my messages so I’ll take the hint and sign off also. I got to the apartment gym and do a few miles on the elliptical and a strength circuit from Caroline Girvan on YouTube.
5:30 PM: After a quick shower, I make chalupas for dinner which is a perennial favorite. Tostadas (or just broken taco shells in a pinch) with refried beans and cheese baked in the oven, topped with salsa, guacamole and bell peppers. I start it up and C helps plate so I can get ready for our evening activity.
6:30 PM: We live nearby a park that does weekly community events and tonight is salsa night! They offered a thirty minute lesson and then an evening of dancing to a live salsa band! We learn a little routine during the lesson but salsa is not a natural skill of C or mine. My footwork isn’t great but I can move my hips a bit. Poor C is stiff as a board and also a perfectionist which is a tough combo for dancing. We dance for about half an hour to the band then give up and watch a while. P.S.: I wore a black floral midi dress, tall black boots, and a black suede jacket. I considered wearing my red silk skirt which is beautiful and looks like the salsa dance emoji, but I’m kind of glad I didn’t because most people were dressed pretty casually and I would have been embarrassed being the fanciest dresser and worst dancer simultaneously.
8:00 PM: We officially give up on salsa - maybe next time! C insists that we would have gotten it if we weren’t five minutes late to the lesson… sure. We go to our local brewery and each have a beer, which C buys. We play Scrabble against each other on our phones. I win but who’s counting? We go back to our apartment and I finish the Ashley Madison documentary and fall asleep on the couch. Spoiler alert: don’t waste your time.
Day 2 Total: $50
Day 3
10:00 AM: Feeling great after sleeping in! C left for his camping trip at about 8 AM and I went back to bed. I fetch another lobby latte and enjoy a slow morning in bed.
12:15 PM: I meet my good friend M out for lunch. Outfit check? I’m wearing an Abercrombie cotton button down tunic, stretchy black pants, and white sneakers. We chat and split a salad and pizza with iced tea. We split the bill, which includes an 18% service charge which states that it helps the restaurant paying living wages but also is “not a tip.” Hmm. The suggested tip at the bottom of the receipt is 10-15% so I leave 10%. Tipping culture stays confusing. $31
1:30 PM: M is joining me on a mission today. I feel like most of my jeans are outdated jeggings or too tight to wear comfortably so it’s time for a refresh. There are a bunch of vintage and thrift stores in the area so we set off. The first store was a bust. I tried on 11 pairs of jeans and there wasn’t even a maybe! I learn that I do not know my jean size and clothing brands also do not know their jean sizes because there is a laughable lack of consistency. Thankfully, my patience is rewarded at the second store. Two out of five pairs are winners. I get a pair of light wash relaxed fit Agolde jeans which are a steal at $32 and a pair of black flared jeans which fit like a glove despite (or because of?) some janky homemade tailoring in blue thread at the waistband. I’ll try to redo that at home in black thread at the very least. M also has success, buying a black denim skirt. $58
3:00 PM: In the midst of our shopping adventure, we stop at Starbucks for a lemonade and bathroom break. $6
3:30 PM: OMG. We walk by a shop with a line out the door and wonder what’s going on. Turns out it’s a pop up merch shop for Billie Eilish’s new album! I can’t help it, we go in. They’re playing her new music video projected on the walls and Billie had signed a decal on the wall for the event. The merch is sick and I buy an overpriced t-shirt. ** $54**
4:30 PM: I stop at CVS on the way home to get some household items, a Magic Eraser and some rubbing alcohol. $8
5:30 PM: Home now. I eat a yogurt and decide to enjoy the last of the daylight. I take my Kindle and a kombucha to sit by the pool for a while.
6:15 PM: It gets chilly quickly so I pack it up. I prep dinner which is the chickpea pasta, air fried asparagus, artichokes and TJ’s Rosatella sauce. The sauce is quite tasty but there was a scary moment when I couldn’t get the jar open and almost called off dinner. I turn on The Idea of You with Anne Hathaway. Is this a Harry Styles fan fic? It must be. It’s a bit corny but also hot. Would recommend.
9 PM: What now? I’m not tired at all so I go around the house doing weird chores. I unpack my clothes and clean out my pants drawer as promised. I try on the new jeans again and turns out there is a surprise waiting for me… someone cut one of those under-butt cut-outs into the Agolde jeans! As if jeans shopping isn’t hard enough! I can’t believe I didn’t see that at the store. I can only laugh. I guess I’ll try to sew it up tomorrow. Maybe white thread to make it look like ripped denim… With that, I take half an edible and call it a night.
Day 3 Total: $157
Day 4
8:30 AM: Good morning… I dreamt about my parents divorcing and C and I splitting up. Pleasant! I eat a granola bar in bed and procrastinate getting ready for the gym until it’s really time to go.
10:30 AM: I go to F45 once or twice a week using ClassPass credits and today was another great class. I’ve gained a lot of confidence lifting weights from the trainers there. I come home, shower up, and pick up the mail and a latte from the apartment lobby. Back upstairs, I call my dad for a while to catch up.
12:00 PM: The Jeans Doctor is in the house! First order of business is to get the blue ink out of my white jeans from last weekend. The internet said that rubbing alcohol will do the trick… I’m sad because I thought it wasn’t working until I rinse out the alcohol and the ink magically washes away. No shit, thanks Good Housekeeping! I feel emboldened by my success and turn to the Agolde jeans. I patch up two little worn patches with white thread and then stitch up the under-booty cut-out in light blue. The white threads help mask my sloppy stitches. Success! I fry some eggs for lunch and finish up my jeans over Sex and the City.
3:00 PM: It’s Sporty Sunday! I walk over to our neighborhood pickleball courts and meet up with a few friends. It’s pretty busy so we volley around the tennis court for about an hour before a pickleball court opens and then we play a few games. The sun feels great! My pickleball skills are super average but it’s been a fun new hobby.
6:00 PM: Home now and so is C! Sounds like he had a great trip. He starts the laundry and I start dinner, which is chalupas round 2. Afterwards I sit on the couch and think zero thoughts for a while. We’re both pretty gassed. I cozy up in bed with a sleepy girl mocktail (tart cherry juice and seltzer) and the new season of Bridgerton.
Day 4 Total: $0
Day 5
6:45 AM: Early bird gets the worm! Couldn’t be me, but the construction workers are already getting after it. I put in my AirPods and go back to bed.
8:15 AM: Time to get ready for work in a rush, as per usual. I’m wearing a black V-neck cardigan with a black lace cami underneath, black cropped dress pants again, and white Vionic loafers. I add some turquoise drop earrings for a bit of color. Quick skincare and makeup and then I’m out the door.
9:10 AM: Now at work, I have a protein bar and coffee. I prep the agenda for our team meeting, then I’m tied up for the next few hours in Monday morning meetings.
12:30 PM: Work usually caters in lunch on Monday and today is Greek food. Beggars can’t be choosers but I’m a bit sad there are four kinds of meat but no falafel. I make a plate of rice, hummus, and salad, then hungrily go back for seconds.
4:00 PM: The afternoon has passed quickly. I finalize a financial model and send out to my deal lead, then start reviewing the materials for a new deal that came through last night. I missed my typical lunch walk, so I take 20 minutes to walk a few blocks around the office. Gosh it’s nice outside.
6:20 PM: I wrap up work, bullshit with my coworker for a bit, then it’s time to go home. Once home, I eat leftover chickpea pasta. I also “meal prep” two lunches for the office; I throw rice in the rice cooker, then once cooked, combine into Tupperware with kale and a Trader Joe’s pre-made Indian food pouch. Does that count as homemade? Once C gets home, we take a little walk together around the neighborhood and enjoy the last half hour of sun.
8:00 PM: We knock out a few chores so the house is in good shape. C cleans the kitchen and I fold laundry. I take a shower and get into PJs so I can have the most peaceful Bridgerton viewing experience. I tell C that Bridgerton has sex scenes and suddenly he’s happy to watch with me. Good night!
Day 5 Total: $0
Day 6
7:30 AM: Rise and shine… I get going a bit early this morning. I wear a tan Zara cardigan, striped Ann Taylor blouse, grey Banana Republic slacks, tan loafers, and gold jewelry. I’d like to think of my work style as classic and unobjectionable, but hopefully not PTA Mom-esque (it probably is).
8:45 AM: I get to the office and start prepping for calls. Busy day with a bunch of random meetings: reference call with a recruiter, strategy session with one of our companies, and an introductory call with a potential banking partner. I’m up to my eyeballs in meetings and little projects until about 2:30. I eat a yogurt for “breakfast” at 11:30 and my meal prepped lunch at 1:00 while I crank through work.
3:00 PM: I’ve been texting with my mom about 4th of July plans and I think we’ve locked in times. I book flights for C and I to visit my parents for a few days over the holidays, which will be great. I book the first flight out using miles and buy the return flight in cash. I don’t think I’ll Venmo request C for this one; we usually cover each other’s expenses when we ask each other to attend “our” events. $342
4:30 PM: I get an email with details for the Women in Investing soccer game event. Apparently the stadium does not allow non-clear bags of any size, including clutches. I go to Amazon and order a small clear bag that will ship in one day. $12
5:45 PM: I booked a Pilates class for 7 PM and I usually get really hangry if I don’t eat beforehand. Luckily, there are Greek food leftovers. I heat up some rice and top with hummus and salad. I prep an agenda for my call tomorrow morning, send it over to my boss, and head out around 6:30.
8:00 PM: Another good Pilates session! I wasn’t able to find street parking so I have to pay for the parking lot. $7 I’m a bit late at this point, but I want to swing by our neighborhood bar for Trivia Tuesday.
9:30 PM: Victory! Our trivia team wins by 1 point, total nail biter. I contributed to the victory by recalling that pi is an irrational number. The 1st place prize is a $100 gift card and we’re stoked. I met this crew through M and they’re all so nice. I got a lemonade which would have been $4, but it’s covered by our previous trivia winnings.
10:00 PM: Home now and time to unwind. I take a shower and then join C on the couch. I tell myself I’m going to read and then I scroll Reddit.
Day 6 Total: $361
Day 7
7:30 AM: Normal routine to get ready for work. I wear a printed flowy blouse, grey cardigan, black dress pants, and tan sandals (assorted H&M, Nordstrom Rack, and Ann Taylor, all years old). I fear it’s very much giving PTA Mom. I scurry off to the office.
8:59 AM: I arrive with one minute to spare before my first call of the day. I would have been early but my usual exit on the highway was closed, sending myself and my fellow commuters for a loop. Anyways, I sign on for my first of five back-to-back calls this morning for new deals and more recruiter interviews (one of our companies is trying to hire a new CEO).
12:45 PM: I wrap up a very successful call where the potential co-investor said our terms are ridiculously off-market, and then the fire alarm goes off. Nice! I have 15 minutes free so I reheat my chickpea pasta and eat half before my next meeting.
2:00 PM: Done with my last meeting. I eat the rest of my pasta and some Greek salad from the kitchen. Thank God for leftovers. I’m feeling pretty frazzled after a busy day. I usually only have one or two meetings per day, then the rest of my workday is quiet time for research or analysis. I take a 20 minute walk to clear my head, then it’s back to it.
6:00 PM: I successfully re-focus enough to complete my sections of the Q1 investor update letters. With that done, I log off for the day and head over to our local movie theater. C and I reserved tickets for A24’s IMAX re-release of Uncut Gems. I’ve never seen it before so I’m excited to hear what the hype is about, albeit years later.
6:30 PM: C beats me to the mall, so he orders dinner for us both. He gets a quesadilla and I have two vegan tacos.
9:30 PM: The movie was a total riot. I leave feeling grateful that my life is my life and not Adam Sandler’s character. The ticket is covered by my AMC A-List subscription, but it would have been $29 after fees otherwise (?!!). The theater validates parking for 3 hours, but we go a bit over so I pay for parking. $6 Thanks for following along with my week!
Day 7 Total: $6
Food Total: $87
Travel Total: $342
Clothing Total: $124
Other Total: $21
Total Spending: $574
Reflections:
This was a typical week at home for me. Outside of the airfare, I’d say it was pretty frugal with no pricy dinners, nail salon visits, or even gas. C and I travel once or twice a month to visit friends and family and attend lots of weddings these days, so some travel spend is normal course for us. I was a bit nervous to submit a MD, but I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading!
Note: edited for formatting :)
submitted by Future-Equal5136 to MoneyDiariesACTIVE [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 20:42 SkyfallRainwing RV Park

RV Park
The Location
https://gofund.me/ac010267
Me and my father are looking to start an RV park. Any help would be appreciated! More information can be found in the link.
Here is some additional information my father wrote:
My name is Greg and I am reaching out to you with excitement and a dream that I hope you will be a part of. We are embarking on a journey to create an RV Park for travel enthusiasts and adventurers - an RV Park with 100 semi private large RV sites that promises a home away from home for those seeking an escape while on the road.
SAFE, FUN AND FAMILY FRIENDLY. We are seeking financial support through your donations to help us build our dream.Our vision is to establish a welcoming and well-equipped RV Park that caters to the needs of travellers, providing a safe and comfortable space for them to connect with nature, unwind, and build lasting memories. However, we need your support to turn this dream into a reality.
OUR STORY: I am a single parent of an autistic child who is almost done high school. He requires constant daily support in all daily tasks. He needs help improving his independence and being a part of the RV Park would help him with this. He needs something productive to focus on to help him grow his skills that isn't electronics. Also, our previous home was burnt down in an unexpected fire back in 2013 where we lost all our belongings. We had to start over and rebuild slowly from nothing. We need your help to achieve our RV Park Dreams. I am unable to work full time as I dedicate all my time to him. Here is a glimpse of what we envision for our RV Park:Nestled in Northern Nova Scotia, our RV Park will offer a serene environment that allows visitors to escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Modern Amenities: We plan to provide top-notch amenities, including full hook-ups, dump station a communal kitchen area, walking paths with benches and a designated space for recreational activities. We want our guests to have all the comforts of home while enjoying the freedom of the open road.
Community Hub: Beyond providing a place to park and sleep, we aim to create a vibrant community atmosphere. Events like movie nights, live music and outdoor activities will encourage travellers to connect, share stories, and forge new friendships.
Eco-Friendly Initiatives: Sustainability is a key focus for us. We plan to implement Eco-friendly practices such as solar and wind power, recycling programs, and rainwater collection for the dump station to minimize our environmental impact. Every donation helps, big or small and everything in between. We are seeking financial contributions through your donations to help us build our dream. Thank you for being a part of our adventure!
submitted by SkyfallRainwing to gofundme [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 20:27 ExtensionAd402 Nobody lives in my neighbourhood (Part One)

This isn’t my story.
It’s Isaac's. Isaac was found dead in his living room on the 21st of April 2019. His death was ruled a suicide, but the state they found his body in told me and everyone else who saw it otherwise.
Isaac was smart, in every sense of the word. He was practically fluent in Python by the time he was 12 and managing a website our friend group would make shitty videos on at 14. The guy was naturally charismatic almost to a fault, he had this way with words where he could so easily talk his way into making you do exactly what he wanted which was more often than not, not what was best for him. he had this weird talent of always knowing exactly what you needed to hear and when you needed to hear it.
But there’s another side to Isaac though, the side you don’t talk about at funerals. To put it bluntly the idiotic side, Isaac was arrogant as hell. That natural intelligence he had made it so If he had his mind set on something there was no way of changing it. Which made him a nightmare at pub quizzes and incredibly hard to talk out of bad choices. Like the time he broke his collarbone when he was 15 whilst trying to hit the adequately named “ass smasher” jump at our local mountain biking range. Or the time he broke his collarbone for a second time on the same jump only 6 months later because he clearly had something to prove.
Even though Isaac could be a bit of a moron sometimes, he was still my best mate.
At Least he used to be. The last time we spoke was in 2017, we didn’t just stop being friends out of nowhere people change and our wants in life started to differ. It also didn’t help that he had started dating my ex-girlfriend Alice and even at the ever so mature age of 22 the sight of the pair repulsed me. So we went our separate ways for me that meant backpacking through East Asia and for him and Alice it meant moving to the supposedly up-and-coming city of Cardiff.
I got a call from Alice about an hour after Isaac’s body had been found. Devastated is too light of a word to describe how she sounded. It took her about 5 minutes of pure uncontrollable sobbing to even muster the words.
“Isaacs dead”
Those two little words hit me like a truck, even though it had been years since we had last spoken my mind flashed to the kid I used to know mangled under the wheel of a drunk driver; the wannabe Steve Jobs I grew up with collapsed in his living room on a quiet Sunday morning; my old partner in crime bleeding out in a mugging gone wrong. Part of me wishes it was that simple, part of me wishes he had died like so many others in an unremarkable and unfortunately common way. Maybe if he had I wouldn’t have spent the last 5 years relieving someone else's last days alive.
Which brings me to why I’m posting here. I got a flight to Cardiff a few hours after Alice called and was there to stay with her throughout the remaining evening. A few days after I arrived Myself and Alice began clearing out Isaac’s house. He and Alice had broken up two months prior which is what led him to move to the musty shit hole he called home.
Most of the day was spent in a depressing cycle: Alice picks up one of Isaac's belongings; an old hoodie or his sticker-covered rolling tray, stares silently at it, then collapses in tears and I would then rush over to console her. We got to about round 4 of this depressing routine until I finally gave in and sent her home and packed the rest of Isaac's stuff alone. It was only an hour after Alice left when I finally made my way to the last room in the house, Isaac’s room.
The room was frozen at the exact moment Isaac had died. Although I don’t remember every detail from that bizarrely warm April evening I still remember exactly how I felt. I was in this weird fugue state like my mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening but my body could. I walked in, mindlessly putting Isaac's stuff in boxes amidst the pungent sea of week-old half-eaten take-out orders and the piles of dirty clothes. At one point, I’m not sure when Alice called to check in on me.
Her words rung hollow, but I can’t blame her. I still can’t imagine how she felt. The false responsibility for her late ex-boyfriend’s so-called suicide she must have felt burdened with. I still truly admire her for being able to push through.
Our conversation was short but during this brief break from sorting through Isaac’s stash of useless techie crap, he had an affinity for collecting. I caught myself snapping out of my routine and noticing an out-of-place weathered black notebook with a golden spine amongst Isaac’s many compendiums of graphic novels.
It was Isaac’s diary. My obsession for the last 5 years. My reasoning for writing this post.
What will follow is Isaac's diary beginning with his first entry once he had moved out of his and Alice's flat up until his final entries that were written seemingly hours before he had died. I’m showing you all this as everywhere and everyone I've turned to has dismissed it as the last shreds of sanity of a deeply ill man. But I know it’s more than that.
So I’m uploading here hoping that maybe there’s something one of you might have noticed that I didn’t. I need closure, not just for my friend's death but I need some kind of way of stopping this ceaseless nightmare of reading and re-reading and re-reading his writing over and over and over.
For the sake of honesty, I will be copying the diary word for word however some areas may need clarification so I will interrupt where needed. I will also need to remove and change certain elements to ensure our privacy. Aside from that it is all accurate to how he wrote it. In addition to the actual diary there were numerous other scraps of paper slid into the pages of the book so I will attach them when they come up.
Without further ado here it is, Isaac's last days alive, written by the man himself.
31st of January 2019
Fuck that bitch Alice and the high horse she rode in on. I should’ve fucking known she was gonna kicked me to the streets for some little prick big money publisher. Whore.
Finally found an affordable place to stay at, it’s this tiny bungalow, super musty and overgrown, vines or ivy or whatever you call it growing up the wall. The garden is a jungle, everything is overgrown and I don’t think the lawns have been mowed since the place was built. There's also a side alley that's locked with a keypad I don’t have the code to. I can’t complain though, the rent is super cheap and they begged me to stay here as the previous prospective tenant dropped out last minute.
Another thing is that the entire village feels like it's stuck in the past I don’t think I’ve seen a single house that doesn’t look like it was built in the 14th century, there's no tescos or corner shop, shit the closest thing to a grocery store is this weird off-license just called “market”. It’s all just practically identical houses being taken over by the surrounding foliage. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a city my whole life but it’s just odd to me that there isn’t a single remotely new-looking place. Don’t get me wrong, it's kinda pleasant but not what I was expecting.
Oscar (1) bought some groceries and helped me unpack, which was nice of him. I think he feels bad for how involved he got with everything.
Anyway, that’s all I’ve got to report. I'm gonna unpack the last of my stuff and set up the PC tomorrow so I can hopefully get some work done.
3rd of March 2019
Got a terrible cold. My nose is running like a tap, I’ve got a killer headache and I can’t smell shit. I’ve been living off a diet of paracetamol, super noodles, and hot squash (2). Oscar Invited me over. I declined as I can’t do much other than sleep or respond to emails. My sleep schedule has also been completely fucked as for the last few nights there's this loud droning noise coming from outside so I’ve mostly been sleeping during the day.
I’ve been getting these vouchers from this place called Cafe Pech nonstop, they're so oddly written like they’ve been ran through Google Translate 80 times, maybe I’ll try them out if I get desperate.
Rewatched the E3 trailer for Cyber Punk, I’m so fucking hyped. It’s gonna be sick, cannot fucking wait, after Witcher 3 CD project red could shit on a plate and I’d eat it.
Speaking of eating, I’m running out of the food Oscar bought so I’ll need to pick up some groceries soon
Nothing else to report, pay day tomorrow tho.
7th of March 2019
Finally picked up some groceries from that market place yesterday, weirdly enough it is an actual grocery store.
I only picked up a few bits I knew I could cook whilst still having this cold. Pot noodles and fish fingers I did buy some chicken to make soup with but when I realized it was rancid, not expired just gross as fuck. I guess I didn’t smell it with my blocked nose. Just annoying. That noise that happens at night is a little quieter I guess.
Y’know what I’ve realized whilst I was driving, I haven’t seen a single person in the village, it’s empty. I haven’t seen a dog walker, a kid at the park, no one putting out their rubbish and I haven't even seen the postman. I just magically receive all my mail every morning alongside even more of those pech vouchers including Amazon stuff.
Maybe it’s because I haven’t been out of the house that much but it’s just eerie like everyone just left right as I arrived. My headache has cleared up a little bit so when I’m feeling a little less under the weather I’m gonna have a properly get to know the place.
9th of March 2019
I feel like absolute shit, I’ve been in bed for the entire day. Every symptom I have has somehow gotten worse. I’ve been getting zero sleep and the noise still hasn’t stopped. I might order from that pech place tonight as I can’t see myself making anything to eat, besides I'll be practically eating for free with all the vouchers I have.
14th of March 2019
Forgot to write here for the last few days but I’ve honestly been feeling better and just getting stuff done. It probably helped that the noise has gotten a lot quiter.
That pech place was really good mostly just sandwiches and pastries but it filled a hole. What’s weird is I don’t remember giving them my address but I was probably too groggy to even remember. Honestly, everything from the 7th to the 9th few days was a blur. I only really remember sleeping a lot and eating from pech.
Probably gonna order from them again tonight. It was really good.
Haven’t seen anyone yet. I'm gonna try and introduce myself to my neighbors if I can find them.
15th of March 2019
I still haven’t seen anyone, it’s getting weird. I went next door to introduce myself today, but no one answered so I went to the next house and no one answered there either. I knocked on about 15 doors in total and NONE OF THEM ANSWERED. I’m confident that's not normal. I feel like I’m going insane. What's even stranger is that I looked through a few of the windows in one of the houses and from what I could see there were signs that people lived there or at least used to. The living room was furnished, there was a suitcase and even dirty dishes on the counter it kinda looked like they had just run off.
I’m seeing Oscar next week and I’m planning on telling him about the whole situation. Maybe he can make sense of this. I ate from Pech again and they didn’t even ask for the serial code this time they just took my order and then hung up.
17th of march 2019
Not seen anyone yet, and can't stop thinking about Pech. It's so good. Been getting a lot more sleep due the fact that the droning noise has stopped all together.
Decided to start clearing up the garden to get my mind off things. Mostly de-weeding, still annoying that the side of the house is locked which means I have to carry all rubbish bags filled with weeds through the house to the bins out front. I also noticed that there’s a lock on both sides of the back door meaning you can unlock on both sides. I guess it’s for the best that no one can get through the sides.
Think I’ll order Pech again.
20th of March 2019
Fuck. This. Shit.
So I went on a walk last night to clear my head, work has been stressing me out and I needed to clear my head. I left a little before the sun was setting and just wandered the streets of the village. I got to the park, had a smoke, and then started walking back. To noneones surprise, I didn’t see anyone the entire time I was walking.
But that's not what's messing with me. As I was walking home (about 500 meters from my house) all of the lights in all of the houses turned on for 2 seconds. Then they all just switched off like nothing happened. All except one, the one opposite me. It’s been a day and the entire time their lights have been on.
There are two things I didn’t notice when doing my rounds last night. Firstly the blinds are drawn which is insane as surely whoever used to live there or still does has something to hide and secondly it’s the only house that has astro turf. I know that sounds insignificant but for the only house in a village of near identical old cottages and bungalows to have something as modern as astroturf is insane to me.
I’m seeing Oscar on friday so I’m hoping he can help me with what I should do next.
  1. Alice and Isaac had a shared friend group, most of which took Alice's side when they broke up aside from Oscar. I met him at the funeral and for the funeral, he was pretty friendly.
  2. Squash is a British fruit drink that is often served either cold during the summer or boiling hot as a remedy for congestion.
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2024.05.23 20:04 Spartawolf Galactic High (Chapter 123)

First/Previous
Nika? Alora? Chiyo called out desperately, as she lashed out with a shockwave of psionic power, blasting the debris constraining her away and sending the trio of Regulators that rushed her staggering back. Anyone? I’m exposed! I could use some help!
The Ilithii had crashed down in a heap of debris, having taken the worst of whatever had hit them, disrupting her natural levitation and causing her to land badly on the ground floor, rolling right into the middle of the huge brawl underneath.
‘They must consider me a priority target!’ Chiyo panicked, hacking and coughing as the dust of the broken wood choked at her lungs. Pushing herself to her feet, she looked around for her friends, but on not spotting any of them headed towards the main entrance, she hoped the others were able to get out, but cursed as she saw the bottleneck of the crowd completely blocking the way out in the mad rush to leave, as if the very building would collapse at any moment.
Though to be fair, that prospect wasn’t an unreasonable one…
Suddenly, Chiyo raised both of her arms up in a telekinetic block, as a drunk with blue fur and a thick, trunk-like snout sprung out of nowhere and threw a wild punch at her head, seeing an easy target, before their fist was halted in mid-air.
Fuck off! Chiyo told the drunk in no uncertain terms as she pushed back with telekinesis, lightly shoving them into the middle of an ongoing mosh pit, before the idiot was very quickly clotheslined by one of the very bloodied avian participants.
Chiyo knew she was in big trouble. Unlike Nika or Jack, she knew there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d survive in a brawl like this for very long. Yet if she tried to levitate above it and lose the crowd cover, the turrets above would quickly pick her out and bring her down, not to mention any other Regulators lurking about that could concentrate their fire.
Quickly considering her options, it was just as quickly decided for her, as she heard the yell of Jack in the far distance, sounding like he was in trouble! If she couldn’t find the others right now, at least she knew where they were going to be!
Unsteady on her feet, Chiyo cursed again as she slipped and fell on some broken glass in an attempt to dodge another drunken patron being rugby tackled to the ground, though fortunately her armour prevented any cuts as she scrambled uneasily back up to her feet as quickly as she could. She was so used to levitating instead of walking, that right now even she had to admit that Nika made some good points about how she needed to get more physically active.
“There!” She heard a voice yell from behind her, and the Ilithii instinctively knew that the Regulators she’d previously knocked down were now right on her tail. Straining with the effort, Chiyo dodged a chair that was thrown at her as she quickly dashed through a break in the crowd, heading towards the bar at the other end of the building. It wasn’t where she wanted to go at all, but she knew that she needed to get herself safe first before she could work out how to help her friends.
She let out a semi-silent yip of pain as one of the ceiling turrets swivelled and opened fire, catching her in the shoulder and causing her to stumble as her shields were quickly depleted. Her armour absorbed most of the impact, though she still felt the hot ripples spread along her back. Desperately, she used her power to grab a nearby bar table, putting as much energy into it as she could as she flung the table up towards the turret, getting blasted to smithereens before it even had a chance to hit.
“There she is! Zruul’s pinged her on turrets! Kill her!”
‘Shit!’ Chiyo swore as she turned around and lashed out at the closest Regulator she could see, focusing her mental energy into a concentrated crunch of psychic power, causing the grey-skinned man to drop their gun and clutch at their spine-covered head in agony as Chiyo broke down the mental defences of their mind and gave him a heavy cluster headache.
Raising her hands, she held up a quick psychic barrier that deflected the burst of plasma shots sent her way up into the air as she kept moving, doing her best to put some distance between her and her attackers, and get some cover in the way too!
Seeing a flash from somewhere upstairs, several accurate shots suddenly rang out and smacked into the chest of another enemy, who quickly panicked and disengaged as their own shields were diminished by the surprise assault.
Thank you, whoever you are! Chiyo projected out, knowing that she didn’t have a safe way to get up to whichever one of her friends had just helped her, though there was still one Regulator left…
“The Ilithii’s at my location!” The last Regulator - a pale-green skinned female with gigantic teeth - snarled into her comms before Chiyo could attempt to use her telekinetic power to grip the being in a psychic chokehold to shut them up.
The being grunted with effort as they shrugged off the effects, before firing wildly with their plasma pistol, blasting a Xarak gangster in the back with a roar of pain as Chiyo desperately threw off their aim with a prod of telekinesis, before quickly igniting her psyblade and lashing out in a sudden burst of movement as she quickly levitated forward, lurching to the side as she lashed out with the blade of pure psychic energy, severing several fingers of the Regulator’s hand as they recognised the danger too late.
“Gah! You fucking bitch! I’ll kill you!” The woman yelled in pain as she clutched at the stumps, trying to numb the pain.
I doubt that. Chiyo retorted as she clenched her fist and lashed out with a telekinetic blast at point blank range, obliterating the front part of the Regulator’s skull, the force sending their corpse blasting back in a spray of flesh and gore.
Extinguishing her psyblade, Chiyo wasted no time in losing herself in the cover of the crowd as she desperately looked for her friends. Briefly she spotted Jack get absolutely bodied by the Redeemer as they both plowed through the heavy crowd around them, but she soon lost them again as she avoided a very drunk-looking couple of amphibians that somehow decided that the chaos of the brawl was a perfect time to dance as if completely oblivious to the mayhem unfolding all around them, casually waltzing around in a circle while somehow avoiding the unconscious or dead bodies around them.
Weaving past them, Chiyo reached the bar, or at least what was left of it.
What remained of the shoddy wooden countertop had been smashed to smithereens in the heat of the brawl, as many empty bottles littered the floor around them, accompanied by overturned tables and broken chairs scattered haphazardly across the sticky floor. The air around her was thick with the acrid stench of alcohol and sweat, mingling with a metallic tang of spilled blood, a strong, pungent smell that burned at the nostrils of the sensitive Ilithii.
‘Gods, the sooner we get out of here the better!’ She thought to herself.
Behind the smashed remains of the bar, Chiyo saw a bunch of smashed and broken bodies - clearly the aftermath of a violent struggle for the booze. Sprawled on the ground with two limbs bent at unnatural angles, Chiyo spotted the creepy Xarak barmen that had told them where the River Giants were, and couldn’t even tell if he was still alive or not with the amount of abuse he had taken.
Amidst the wreckage, several rowdy patrons had taken advantage of the chaos to help themselves to the free booze, laughing and jeering as they stumbled about guzzling stolen drinks, brandishing some of the stolen bottles as weapons as they revelled in the mayhem around them, attacking one another for a greater share of the dubious loot. One red-skinned muscular alien with some rough black haired mutton chops raised up a full bottle of some kind of brown spirit into the air, before another yellow-furred ganger smacked him in the back of the head with a chair, instantly dropping him.
‘Shit, we need a way out!’ The Ilithii cursed. Looking around she saw more and more bodies on the ground as the fighting went on all around the building, and she cringed as she saw one get trodden on as two more still-active patrons were trying to claw at each other’s faces.
It was becoming ever increasingly more difficult to hide now.
“There!” She heard again from somewhere to the side as she looked around for an emergency exit. “Slarah! We found the Ilithii you wanted!”
“Good!” A curt female voice barked. “Their Psion is my fight as we discussed! You three eliminate that Outsider filth! The rest of you with me!”
Chiyo spun around quickly to look at the speaker, prepared for a fight.
This particular Regulator was clearly some kind of officer, if she wasn’t the outright leader of the Regulator Order of the Infernal Harmony. Wearing battlemage armour of slender, woven metal bands, the ethereally beautiful, light-purple-skinned woman with pointy ears even longer than Alora’s lowered her grey hood and stared at Chiyo with the confident expression of a professional well-versed in their field of expertise.
Taking no time to talk, they thrust their staff forward with a powerful blast of arcane energy with an unexpected strength that almost blasted through Chiyo’s psychic shields before the Ilithii focused, quickly countering with a powerful telekinetic shockwave that launched two of the Regulators back before they could open fire on her with their plasma rifles.
Attempting to disengage, Chiyo shuffled backwards to get into cover and buy herself some time, knowing she couldn’t win this fight, but found her movements stifled as the area around her was hit with a slowing spell of some kind.
‘A Force Mage, and a powerful one! She must be the one who collapsed the balcony!’ Chiyo thought to herself. ‘But I’m strong too, and my friends need me!’
The force of her counterattack caused the force mage to grimace as she brought up her staff in a block that was able to take the hit. Chiyo squeezed as she brought the full might of her power to bear, but her enemy was able to hold on long enough that her allies could shoot at Chiyo with full auto, forcing her to abandon her attack and block the shots as best she could, though one got through, smacking her hard in the chest.
Anyone? Help! Chiyo yelled out in the hope that one of her friends could hear her, but nobody could. As several shots were deflected straight up into the air, the only thing that changed was the overhead sprinkler system suddenly turning itself on, causing numerous shouts and curses to be hurled around at the uncomfortable development.
“Zruul? Stop playing around!” The enemy mage, Slarah ordered into her comms, while Chiyo took advantage of the monetary distraction and wildly lashed out with as much telekinetic power as she dared from above, smashing two Regulators with enough unseen force to knock them to the ground, dead or unconscious. Slarah growled and lashed out with power of her own, sending a fissure of telekinetic force that churned the wooden floor between them. Straining with effort, Chiyo pushed back and deflected the attack just before it hit her, causing the fissures to split either side of her.
‘Curses, she and I are equally matched! What can I do?’ Chiyo thought to herself. She recalled all the books and lessons she had learned on how to best use her power, but in that moment of panic, all of that knowledge seemed insufficient.
‘Damnit, I can’t hold on much longer!’ Chiyo thought to herself, until she noticed the trickling of water all around her.
’Wait! That’s it!’
Drawing in the water around her in abundance, Chiyo attacked the force mage again, who had clearly not anticipated Chiyo having any kind of elemental affinity, as though she blocked the kinetic strikes, the momentum of the water was still enough to blast her backwards as the liquid simply flowed around the quick shields she summoned around herself, rattling against her armour and causing Slarah to grunt in pain as she was forced back.
Maintaining her momentum, Chiyo then lashed out with several more well-aimed water blasts at several of the downed Regulators who had been blasted to the floor from the kinetic battle. Though the Regulators had clearly prepared for a fight with the gear to boot, Chiyo hoped her attack was enough to keep them down as Slarah rallied and threw her power at Chiyo, trying to disrupt her concentration.
Grunting with effort, Chiyo found herself desperately holding on, as between her and the enemy mage, a huge congealed blob of water formed, threatening to burst as both of them fought for dominance.
‘I can’t afford to get disrupted! And she has allies nearby!’ Chiyo realised, as several of the Regulators got back to their feet, much tougher than she realised.
‘If I was like Jack, I’d probably be able to think outside the box and surprise them with something…’
Wait…All that water was being compressed by the combined telekinetic force, if it was being put under enough pressure…
Holding on for dear life and waiting for the perfect moment, Chiyo suddenly shifted the focus of her power to strike out and burst a very specific point of the bubble…
Which sent a high-powered beam of water right towards the enemy mage!
Screaming, Slarah flailed her arms as she was blasted back with the sheer force of the released pressure, with the water splashing all over the area, created a blanket of rain all around them. Seizing on the idea, Chiyo used the sprinklers to extend the translucent smokescreen as far as she could.
‘If I’m having trouble finding my friends, so will you!’ She thought grimly to herself.
‘Though I’ve still got to get to them first!
*****
“Shit, that was close!” Sephy panted to herself. She had been able to evade the spell thrown their way and stay on the balcony, using her wings to glide over to a more stable part. Looking down, it didn’t look good. Dust and debris filled the air in a thick cloud, obscuring her vision of the chaos below as she desperately looked for any sign of her friends.
“Still up there bitch?” She heard a familiar voice as several of the turrets swivelled around to aim at her, causing her to quickly dive for cover as they opened fire, tearing chunks out of the wall where she had just been. Hiding behind the shoddy fence and cursing the terrible cover it made, Sephy crouched and crawled around, aiming for one of the pillars at the far end of the room for better cover, bringing up her plasma rifle to surprise a Regulator who had the same idea as her.
‘Any more assholes up here?’ Sephy asked herself rhetorically as she looked around, quickly snapping to surprise another that was trying to line up a shot on someone below.
‘Alright, nobody else up here apart from the madlads sitting and watching, but that slicer’s probably told his friends where I am.’ Sephy reasoned. ‘Can’t have that!’
Grinning, she looked towards the stairs that were now clear, but she knew that she had a better advantage up here, and there was probably an ambush waiting down below. Reaching into one of the pouches on her rig, Sephy pulled out a black ball with a special adhesive that began to activate with an electronic command from her before she quickly threw the slap-mine towards the stairs, with it sticking to the frame.
Though Nika had often told her not to risk throwing those mines and to always place them manually, Sephy didn’t have time for that shit when there were literal turrets trying to kill her!
Springing out of cover, Sephy aimed at the closest turret and blasted it before it could take aim at her in return, chuckling as the other slicer realised she now had a blind spot to work with.
‘But though I’m out of the line of fire, everyone else isn’t!’ Sephy realised. ‘However, I know where he is, and he isn’t far. I just need a quick way out and I can kill him in meatspace. Sucks there isn’t a window I can easily get to…’
Suddenly there was some movement below as she spotted a brief flash of pale blue skin. Recognising Chiyo, Sephy quickly took aim and let off a set of risky bursts that dropped one of the Regulators going after the Ilithii, before Sephy was quickly forced back into cover as several shots zipped above her.
“Too slow fuckers!” Sephy called out with false bravado, as she tried to figure out her next move.
‘Yeah, they definitely know I’m here, this is getting way too hot!’ She chuckled to herself. ‘But I can still try and be useful!’
“Guys? Can you hear me?” Sephy called out into her comms, not bothering to try and go subvocal in the loud mess they were in.
No answer.
“Great, and we’re fucking jammed.” Sephy sighed. “And I bet it’s that gods’ damn slicer too! Fuck I’m gonna kill him!”
She spun around and tried to find Chiyo or one of the others, not spotting any of them before she heard an explosion behind her, as an enemy tried to climb up the stairs.
At least, it was probably an enemy…
Using the distraction, Sephy quickly moved out of cover and searched for targets, immediately honing on a scary-looking Vivren towards the front of the building that was gesticulating with her hands and obviously giving orders to a squad of regulators.
‘Heh! Sometimes they make this too easy!’ Sephy grinned to herself as she took aim and squeezed the trigger, blasting the enemy officer with an accurate burst of plasma fire!
However, to Sephy’s shock the rounds didn’t seem to have an effect on the ugly Vivren, merely bouncing off their heavily armoured form, a feat repeated with a second burst as they turned their snarling visage to look up at the Skritta.
“Oh crap!” Sephy cursed, as the Vivren easily battered aside a drunk that was in her way as she brandished a heavy-looking spiked chain. Flinging it around with supernatural strength, she whipped it towards the Skritta who ducked the side swipe as it pinged above her, forming a huge gash in the wall.
‘What the fuck?’ Sephy asked herself as her eyes widened. ‘I’ve never scored well in physics but I’m pretty sure that shouldn’t happen! Magical bullshit detected!’
“Missed me bitch!” She taunted as she returned fire, before juking the vertical strike that tore through the flimsy wooden fence. Firing back, she hit the Vivren’s centre of mass again, only this time realising that her previous shots found their mark. Though the Vivren’s armour was almost as good as theirs, surely they would have felt something from her attack?
‘Damn, you have a pain tolerance better than Jack’s!’ Sephy thought to herself. ‘But that doesn’t change the fact that I need to get out of here and get control of the turrets…’
As the Vivren yanked her chain back down, Sephy saw the mad rush for the front doors or the building, but could see the gap above the height of the crowd of mostly average-sized species.
It did have to be accessible for megafauna, after all…
‘Gliding there will be too slow…unless! Oh this’ll be so cool!’
Staying light on her feet, and holstering her plasma rifle while coiling her muscles like a spring, Sephy grinned as she waited for the next attack, a look which seemed to enrage the Vivren as she lashed out with the spiked chain again, clearly aiming for Sephy’s legs, who leapt up as high as she could to dodge the attack for a third time, as the spiked chain tore through the wood of the bannister fence like cardboard before wrapping itself around the brick pillar.
Seeing her opportunity, Sephy leapt onto the twisted metal, using the Vivren’s own whip as a tightrope as she ran down it, using her wings to barely stabilise herself and dodge whatever spell the Vivren cast at her, her heart pounding in her chest as in the space of barely two seconds she had descended to the ground and kicked off the head of the Vivren, giving her just enough speed, height and momentum to clear the bottleneck at the front door, before crashing to the floor, landing roughly on the coarse stone of the courtyard outside, sending shockwaves of pain reverberating throughout her body as she rolled and tumbled hard across the pavement, eventually skidding to a very painful stop.
“Owwwww…..” She moaned to herself as her breath came in ragged gasps, before she was able to get a hold of herself.
“Heh…nailed it!” She panted as she got to her feet. “I hope the others saw that shit! That was so fucking awesome!”
‘But where is that fucking slicer?’ Sephy thought to herself as she brought up a virtual reality minimap. ’Side of the building, he’s close, gotta hurry!’
Sprinting, she heard the sounds of comms in the distance as she rounded a corner to see two Regulators trying to look casual outside of what looked like a former service shed for the once-respectable building she had just left, who hadn’t yet noticed her…
“Hostile incoming! Get Zruul out of there!” A cruel snarl spoke up over the Regulator’s comms.
“Yes Lictor-” One of them began to say before a burst of plasma quickly decapitated them. Sephy quickly switched to the other, who quickly fell to the ground with several burns on their torso before they could raise their own weapon, Sephy quickly finishing them off with a shot to the head to confirm the kill.
Wrinkling her tiny nostrils at the putrid stench of piss as she booted open the flimsy door, instantly spotting exactly what she was looking for.
Propped up against the far wall was the limp, helpless form of the obese toad-like being she had met just a few minutes ago when he was fully sliced into the Matrix, and from the looks of things he still was, possibly unaware of the danger.
Sephy put two rounds in their skull without hesitation.
“Now I’ve gotta take the system!” Sephy said to herself in determination as she grabbed at the wires attached to the cybernetics of Zruul’s body, forcibly yanking them away before attaching them to her own device and slicing into the local Matrix once again, bringing up the translucent AR feed once again.
“Zruul! Get out of there!” Sephy heard a voice call out in panic as she took in her surroundings, spotting the form of the enemy slicer rapidly floating over towards her, before stopping, mouth wide open in pure, unadulterated horror.
“No!” They screamed in cyberspace, knowing what must have happened. “NO! NO! NO! NOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOOO!”
“I told you that you weren’t leaving here alive!” Sephy sneered cruelly, as she found the subtle string of code that connected Zruul’s consciousness with their body. A connection that would be impossible to get at without having direct manual access to the source hardware in question…
“Please don’t!” Zruul begged pathetically. “I’ll help you! I’ll disable the turrets! I’ll let you escape! If you’ve killed my body the Lictor can repair it so I can come back! Just please let me live!”
“No.” Sephy coldly told the slicer in no uncertain terms as she severed his connection.
“NOOOOOOO!” Zrull screamed as his avatar drifted away, slowly decompiling as his consciousness was eroded away into nothingness.
Not wasting any time, Sephy saw the control node in the distance and quickly rushed to it, instantly taking control of the now undefended programs as she quickly worked her magic.
“Alright, reversing the IFF for the turrets, that’s now running…” Sephy muttered to herself, annoyed that the process wasn’t instant. “What’s this? Sprinkler system? Sure! That might help…”
“Cameras? I didn’t spot any around…Better disable footage so they can’t ID us after…oh nevermind…they’re hidden in the bathrooms. Let’s just brick you…What else?”
Moving her virtual fingers like a skilled musician Sephy quickly cycled through the different settings, not finding much to work with. As one final act of spite, she deleted the playlist that Zruul had blasting over the speakers, and changed it to one of her punk playlists.
A sudden beep notified Sephy that the turrets were done recalibrating, and she excitedly went to the virtual console to see what she had to work with.
Grinning as she checked the basic programming and realising it was compatible, she brought up one of her custom programs that had been created to integrate with turret systems to run automatically. Copying it over and ordering it to execute, Sephy quickly backed out of the system while locking it from further infiltration. By the time anyone could unlock it, they’d hopefully all be long gone…
“Alright you motherfuckers!” Sephy grinned as she confirmed the turrets were spooling up again.
“My turn!”
*****
First/Previous
Chiyo and Sephy are making their moves, but the Battle of the Soggy Pussy is far from over!
Don't forget to check out The Galactic High Info Sheet! If you want to remind yourself of certain characters and factions. One new chapter a week can seem like a while! Don't forget! You all have the ability to leave comments and notes to the entries, which I encourage you to do!
I am now on Royal Road! I would appreciate your support in getting myself off the ground there with your lovely comments, reviews and likes!
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Don't forget to join the discussion with us on Discord, and consider checking me out on Youtube if you haven't already! Until next week, it's goodbye for now!
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2024.05.23 19:06 Sin-God A New Chain: Momentum

"Alright gang, so this is how we're doing this month." I state, to a gaggle of my colleagues as I click on a remote, and the image being projected onto a screen beside me flickers and changes. My companions all smile at me, proud of the data conveyed by the graph. I smile back at them and begin to lecture them on the steps we've taken as a team to step up both our individual rates of productivity and our collective productivity.
This is the sort of thing I've been asked to do a lot more lately. About four months ago I was asked to look at some reports and do some data analysis and reporting, and what I did impressed my coworkers so much it's become a regular part of my job. This has served as a nice distraction from the monotony of sitting behind my desk and working on the same endless deluge of paperwork every single weekday and is even now paying dividends. My colleagues are listening as I discuss the implications of a particular graph I made on this world's version of Microsoft Excel.
This is one of my more meeting-heavy days, but to be fair the bigwigs in the company are having a meeting soon and I'm my department's most reliable non-supervisor. In half an hour I have a meeting with HR's department heads to go over a summarized list of the latest problems and to share my predictions based on that data. After that, I have a meeting with sales. It's gonna be a bit of a busy day, but my speaking skills are definitely gonna get boosted because of it.
Lately I've become more aware of the momentum of this kind of life. When I first entered this world I had never worked in an office and I didn't realize how quickly I'd acclimate to the peculiarity of my circumstances but now plenty of stuff is automatic for me. If I zone out I stick to my routine. and at times I think about the future for what feels like a few minutes and when I begin to pay attention again over an hour has passed and I've made all sorts of progress thanks to my honestly kind of stacked build. I've spent entire days on autopilot and still made the same amount of progress I'd otherwise make. I suspect the real reason for this is my "Beautiful Mind" perk rather than any sort of innate quality that is organically mine, but if I'm going to be visiting multiple settings for a decade every time, or even just sometimes, I'm glad I can so easily kill time and train at the same time.
My colleagues listen to me, focused on my words even as I allow my secondary, perk-granted train of thought to guide the interaction we're having. I appreciate the attention they pay, because we're all on track to get healthy raises this year and I know we'd all appreciate that.
I haven't really focused on clamoring for promotions or raises since I first arrived in this world which is a curious decision for one simple reason: "Severance Pay". Severance pay, normally just something meant to reward hard work or to tide someone over until they find a new job, means something different for me then it does for the natives of this world. I tell my colleagues all about some of the promising tips I've recently read about as my internal monologue recalls the description of one of my very few "items".
I own four "Items": My apartment, severance pay, my whiteboard, and the corporate rulebook item. My apartment is not just some place that I live in, it's something that'll follow me for the duration of my "Chain" which is what my actual boss calls my career or stint with him. My whiteboard is something I've not particularly used all that often but it was free for people in my origin. I use my rulebook on occasion though for the most part it is little more than a nice toy I own. My apartment, as inelegant as it is, will surely be useful to some extent when I visit future settings, but severance pay... well, severance pay is a whole other beast.
Severance pay is an item that is free in the sense that it costs zero points but is less free in the sense that I have to work for it to have any real value. With severance pay I will continue to make money passively in future jumps, though the timescale which determines when I get paid as well as how much as I actually make will depend on how hard I work right now. This is an item that doesn't take effect until I leave this place but it is incredibly powerful incentive for someone to work diligently and for them to apply themselves every single day they are in this particular setting. For the last two years I've largely focused on doing my job diligently, leading those I can effectively, and working to be a skilled leader and member of my team. This is good, and in the time since I've earned more than one raise. This knowledge is deeply helpful as it shows me that I can work hard and get results that merit my effort, and this certainly going to be incredibly helpful in the long run.
I know that Earth-like worlds exist in the multiverse because I am here, in an Earth-like world right now. In such settings the amount of money I'm making is easily enough for me to live off of, and frankly would have been enough for me to live off of even as a regular human. I spend stunningly small amounts of money, purchasing just enough food to continue to hone my cooking class and also spending money on my various hobbies and pastimes but other than that I am fairly frugal. Something that helps is my ability to use my gacha mechanic which has given me plenty of neat stuff and promises to do so in the future as well. And plenty of non-Earth-like settings also exist wherein things like severance pay would be a godsend.
If I have the ability to just passively live in future settings I can use plenty of those settings as places to fully devote myself to my training. Also, if worse comes to worse and I get de-aged somehow then I can use the money I passively make every two weeks as a way to get by without adult supervision so long as I can find some morally questionable figures or people who are just indifferent and will leave a kid alone so long as the kid in question can pay up. But for Severance Pay to be valuable I need to work hard and really grind it out.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
To Lucas's credit, when he chooses to put his nose to the grind he means it. Over the course of the next few months he begins to guide both his team and other teams to new heights. The figure puts his considerable skills to the test and devotes himself to the success of his employer and to efforts to make his bimonthly paychecks weigh more.
As part of these efforts he has weekly meetings with other departments, builds connections with them, and he offers himself as a sort of consultant. This decision surprises several of his colleagues, but none of them are disappointed and while at first only two figures actually accept his offer he proves to be an adept consultant. He is able to skillfully put together presentations using creative skills and he is a skilled public speaker and a capable mentor, revealing that he has some level of skill that make him an able member of virtually any department.
The figure's efforts lead to him getting recognized as a major player in this specific branch, and as one of the best data analysts in the company nationally. He is invited to a retreat for executives that he attends and puts together a rousing speech on the importance of the company's work. Every word is a lie, Lucas does not actually like his job and he finds the concept of insurance morally questionable at best but he puts on an award-worthy performance and he makes those in attendance smile and laugh nonetheless. While on this retreat, itself happening at a luxurious resort in the in-jump equivalent of Florida, Lucas gets two important classes: actor, as a direct result of his speech, and also singer, as a result of some fun he has performing karaoke with some of his supervisors.
Before anyone knows it, the time has come to give out raises and the whole data entry department gets one. Lucas is also given a promotion, as his supervisor gets invited to corporate and Lucas is tapped to be his successor. Lucas, unsurprisingly, gratefully agrees and slides into his supervisor's office with an almost unseemly level of enthusiasm. Lucas also immediately proves to be an incredibly skilled supervisor, overhauling commonly accepted procedures and traditions, and incorporating new programs into the daily lives of the company's data entry department.
Lucas is quick and eager to take advantage of what actor offers, and in days the class is levelling up. His initial boost from actor is a direct buff to his charisma, one that raises the attribute to 60 and buffs the level of "Rousing Speech" a skill he has readily deployed throughout his stay until now. The initial buff he gets from singer is one that improves his singing, a skill that at level 27 was already one of his higher leveled skills. Lucas is quickly snagging buffs to his charisma, and in weeks he is auditioning for plays and snagging pivotal roles. This leads Lucas to embrace his nature as a charisma main, and to alter what he does in his free time in the wake of him gaining the actor class.
The actor no longer heads home after work. Instead of going home and grinding minor skills, he spends a healthy portion of every day away from his apartment. He works out, goes to rehearsal, or volunteers every day, and he grinds skills at night and at work. In almost no time residents of the city are enjoying the performances of the jumpers in various important roles in plays throughout the city, and the figure's artistic side gets to come to the fore.
Over the course of the next four and a half years Lucas almost forgets he's in a chain. He becomes so used to the current status quo, to his days spent working, his afternoons and early evenings spent honing specific classes, and his late nights and early mornings spent grinding specific skills, that at times he almost thinks about the long term future. During these moments he fantasizes about what his ideal future would look like, and the picture of it in his head is surprisingly quaint. The man envisions a future where he buys a home, moves out of his apartment, eventually goes corporate himself, and maybe even adopts a few kids. He can never quite picture having a romantic partner, almost as if some part of him insists on remembering the truth: anyone he romantically connects to during this jump is someone he will leave behind and in the fairly near (though not quite immediate) future.
This doesn't stop people from trying to see what he cares about romantically. They pester him and ask him probing questions, wondering at a bare minimum whether he's attracted to men, women, or people who ignore rigid gender binaries. He does not answer their questions, purposefully, skillfully avoiding their questions. The man gets a lot of experience in figuring out how to navigate such awkward conversations.
About four years into his stay in the jump he realizes something important: his rate of leveling his skills, his classes, and himself broadly are all quite slow. There are exceptions to this trend, such as when he acquires a new skill or class, as when he first acquires a skill or class it's rate of leveling is often stunningly fast. In days he can get new skills to level a dozen times, and he can get classes to level three or four times in a week if they start at level one. Where he struggles is when skills and classes reach a certain tier of strength. For skills it's somewhere between level 35 and level 40, and for classes it's somewhere between levels 8 and 12. After the levels climb that high it begins to take more and more experience between each level, so while he has multiple classes and skills that are higher leveled than those numbers, that's when growth begins to slow considerably.
Given the relative safety of the world he's in, mixed with the fact that he is purposefully avoiding a considerable amount of danger even when he can find it, he is only able to progress so far. In fact a good deal of his growth when it comes to his new skills and classes is due to the powerful cheat abilities of "Jack of All Trades", "Experience Boost", and "Master of All". All three mix together to give him the ability to grow his skills and classes to the point that they are impressive, even perhaps nationally so, but advancing to the truly superheroic stage without pushing himself proves beyond his abilities, for now at least.
But Lucas is not impatient. He bides his time, occasionally going out of his way to grab new skills that he thinks might be useful in the future. He picks up camping, backpacking, and other survival skills over the course of a few weeks between plays, taking advantage of his agility and endurance and a short bit of paid vacation time to go to a national park and give himself a meaningful change of scenery. The time is well-spent, and Lucas appreciates the change of pace and location. The skills passively level up thanks to his plethora of supportive abilities, and he grows fond of what he has grabbed.
This becomes a yearly tradition, one that he decides to tie to the anniversary of his arrival in this new world. On the ninth anniversary of his arrival in this world he finds himself beginning the final stretch of his adventures here on the shores of a pristine lake.
​There's been a lot of certainty and routine over the last few years, with Lucas only rarely adding new skills and facets to his hobbies, such as him directly healing people through his food, or the office worker occasionally competing in music-based competitions. And in the meantime none of his attributes have hit 100, though some, such as charisma and intelligence, are in the nineties and eighties. _________________________________________________________________________________________
I lazily cast a fishing line into the shallowest part of the lake. My fishing rod is a simple tool I handcrafted a few hours ago, and the thing is good enough that I can see a pair of fish swimming through the waters towards the lure I cut in the shape of a worm yesterday when I arrived. The distant sounds of birds fill the air as one of the fish makes it to my lure and begins to circle it. I grin at the tiny dummy and wait until it commits to attacking my lure. When it does I begin to reel the thing in, able to use my strength to yoink it into the air, before pointing my empty hand at it and hitting it with a costly spell: "Teleportation". This new spell of mine is the big brother of another spell, and while it's still a bit costly it's powerful enough that it can affect living beings.
The fish immediately vanishes from mid-air and lands beside me. It begins to splash around, and I wait and watch as my skills get experience for this, before I pick it up and toss it back into the lake.
"Drawbacks are weird." I mutter, as I spare the fish the odd fate of being unable to die due to my actions and being kept in a state of potentially perpetual suffering. The fish immediately swims away, and a part of me feels a bit bad for mentally scarring the thing. "Pacifist Run" is a weird drawback and it keeps me from killing stuff so the fish would simply flop around until a bird came and got it, or it got back into the water. Still, the tiny creature seems to take it in stride.
I stretch, or at least begin to, until time freezes and I get a notification. This is odd, as such things are normally linked to quests and I have none active at the moment. I'm glad I'm almost rid of shit like "Tutorial Sprite" though. I mentally remove the roadblock and focus on the text of the alert.
​[Alert: The Final Stretch
Congratulations on making it to the final leg of your first jump. Pretty soon it'll be time for you to select your next destination(s)! We look forward to seeing what you pick.]
I sigh when time resumes. I suppose this was put in place just in case I was beginning to forget that this isn't my true home. At times I have forgotten that so I guess putting this here makes some level of sense. It almost stings to think that I'm a few short months from leaving and going... elsewhere. I pick up my fishing rod, and begin to walk back to my campsite, the future on my mind.
A/N: We are inching towards the end of this jump. I can confirm it won't be this next chapter, or the chapter after that, as I do want some slight conclusions, all of which will need a beat before they happen, but there'll be time skips in the next few chapters as well just not ones this long. Our next jump will not be a generic, though I MAY add a generic to it as a supplement. Still, we're in the end-game (for this jump) fellas & felladies!
submitted by Sin-God to JumpChain [link] [comments]

2024.05.23 18:42 Logical-Island-419 Used Tesla Model 3 vs New Ford Maverick hybrid

I realize they are two completely different vehicles. But I did come down to 2 options for now and this is a result of seeing what is viable in my lifestyle.
Right now I have a 2010 Honda fit bought brand new with about 170k miles on it. It’s certainly showing its age. I primary use it as my daily driver. Going to work is its primary job.
Tesla model 3: I have a garage to park this in. And able to charge at home without any issues. I will most likely buy this used and this is where things become questionable as a used cars come with many issues and it being a Tesla I worry unless any of you had good experience with a used Tesla.
Ford Maverick: I’d buy this new. And this can will be a bit too long to park in the garage and again I will use it to go to work. But on top of that I have the bed which will certainly be used for bikes, weekend projects, hauling things to the beach etc. this feels like my Honda fit but with more utility.
I’m certainly a car guy and do a lot of my own work but super budget conscious. I have no debts. Also not really a truck guy either. I actually hate obnoxious trucks I see everywhere. This is what make mavericks attractive. Also have a family but we have a dedicated family hauler in place.
(For disclosure, I’ve always owned a Honda)
Any thoughts?
submitted by Logical-Island-419 to whatcarshouldIbuy [link] [comments]

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