After playing League for ~3 years I decided to stop and learn a new game and now have been playing Dota for about 8 months. As I've been learning I've been comparing and contrasting them, and I felt like writing up my thoughts.
I'm not a high ranked player; I was emerald in League and I don't really played ranked in dota. It doesn't matter, since this post isn't about tactics/strategy or how to win-- I'm just talking about the differences between the mechanics of the two games and their clients.
Disclaimer, this is all about Soloqueue. Pro play is a different environment and many things are different. I'm just talking about the average player's experience.
In League's favor:

• Better lore. It's not a contest really. League's champions all have names and stories that are placed front and center, whereas Dota heroes are more like archetypes than individuals with distinct identities. Instead they're known by a description of what they are, while their "real names" are kind of buried in half-assed bio summaries and infrequently referenced. There's a dude called "Anti-Mage." There's a dude on a bat and his name is Batrider. There's nothing in Dota to compare with the hype lore media Riot produces, like the fiddlesticks rework video or the 10 min yone/yasuo video. Champion lore just gets way more money put into it in League.
  
• League has WAYYYYY better champion animations and ability visual designs. This is for me where League blows Dota out of the water. There's really just nothing in Dota that feels like Jhin, or Ekko, or Aphelios, or Senna, or so many others. With rare exception, almost all the champions in league have aspects that FEEL amazing - great sound design / animations / feedback delays that are incredibly rewarding. Dota's heros are really fun to play and I'm having a great time, but if you put them side by side with like 90% of League's cast, the animations of their abilities and movements just feel kinda flat by comparison. One of the easiest side-by-sides is Darius vs Dota's hero "Axe" -- he has the same ult as darius, completely identical except for darius ult's interaction with passive. But all Axe does for his ult visually is a little hop and swing of the axe. It's really lame. Compare that to the awesome sound of a Darius ult kill, with the fear, especially on the God-King skin, and it makes Dota look 20 years old.
  
• Skillshots! In Dota most abilities are just unit targeted, so they can't miss. There are skillshots too, but they're far fewer. In league skillshots are kind of the norm, and aiming them and dodging them is a big part of the game and it's fun to do so and makes you feel cool when you land them or dodge them. Having nearly everything be unit targeted isn't bad, it's just different, but it is something I enjoy a lot in League.
  
• Cooler duels in league, and more of them. Dueling is a big part of league and it doesn't seem to be such a big part of Dota except maybe a bit in mid. Everyone in Dota has teleport (instead of recall), and it only has like a 1 minute cooldown. So whenever a fight starts, people teleport in and it becomes a teamfight. There's only one 1v1 lane (mid), the other two are 2v2 lanes. So there's much less of the 1v1 culture of League where people get to solo each other and take pride in the results. The lack of skillshots in dota plays into this too, since landing or dodging skillshots can definitively contribute to the outcome of a duel. With that mechanic less prominent, statchecking is a bit more common.
  
• Very little 1v9 potential in Dota by comparison. Dota has FARRRRRR more CC than league, it's not even close. League feels like it has no CC compared to dota. In dota there is an item anyone can buy that silences a point-and-click target for 5 seconds, and another that polymorphs for 3 seconds, and so on. Many such items. There's a support who can root you for 4 seconds AND polymorph you for 3, and a carry who can silence you for FIFTEEN SECONDS with his ult. In such an environment, no one person can solo carry a game most of the time. You HAVE to work with your team. So if you love 1v9ing, League wins hard on that. But at the same time this can be a negative for league - it means there's more ego and less teamwork. People in dota are by default much more inclined to work together, because in the face of such powerful tools they HAVE to.
  
• Recalling isn't a thing in Dota, which means the game is kind of constantly pedal-to-the-metal. It can be kind of nice to take a breather in League for a few seconds and stretch your arms while walking back to lane, given how intense the game can be.
  
• In dota, holding tab doesn't show you what items people have built, nor their CS, and it's super frustrating. You have to click champion portraits individually to see their items, and you can't see their CS at all aside from your own. Probably hard-core dota loyalists will say this is part of the skill of the game, but honestly it's just annoying/bad UI design that they sort of got used to and became convinced was "part of the game" imo. It's really stupid and annoying.
  
• In League you can buy as many wards as you want, whereas in Dota there's only ever a finite number available in the store which is SHARED among your team and then goes out of stock until it replenishes on a timer. I hate having to share wards with the team in dota, and the store being out of them. I understand it's part of the game and managing that is part of the skill of dota, but I find it tedious and don't really enjoy it as a mechanic. Additionally, wards take up an inventory slot in dota the same way control wards do in league, and it's just annoying.
  
• Better champion skins, frankly. Some of League's skins are just amazing, as we all know. I would say there is very little cosmetic content in Dota that can compare to High Noon Senna or God-King Darius or [insert your favorite skin here.] There are cool skins, but it's just not the same. In Dota you can buy individual things, like updating a sword or a hat or a belt or a single ability's effect, all purchaseable separately. They have some full-kit skins, but that's not emphasized as much as in League where it's the standard and the only option, and they're just not as visually impressive.
  

In Dota's Favor:

• All heroes are free from the start. It's great for trying them out and learning the game.
  
• The game is less punishing to learn than league, for a multitude of reasons. Don't get me wrong, it still has an enormous barrier to entry and a steep learning curve, but it's just less painful. Everyone who ever learned League remembers what it was like in those first couple months being alone in lane against people who have been playing for years - especially in top lane or mid lane - and just getting fucking demolished 1v1 and not even being able to play. That doesn't happen as much in dota. First of all two lanes are ostensibly 2v2 and only one is 1v1, although there's a lot more roaming by the supports. There's also no jungler role, a role in league which often leads to that player being blamed for everything that goes wrong in a game. And then there's WAY more sustain - in Dota you don't recall to buy items, you have couriers ferry them out to you. So you can just kinda constantly have Dota's equivalent of health pots brought out to you, and only TP to fountain rarely when you're super low. This means there's a lot less crying under turret while zoned off CS unable to play.
  
• Much better tools for learning. The tutorial is better. You're able to click other heroes to see their abilities in-game. There's a guide system full of user-contributed content where you can pick one in-game and it tells you what to buy and how to use that item on this hero, as well as how to use your abilities by just adding little user-written snippets to the tooltips when you hover them. League does have recommended items and recommended order for ability-levelling, but the fact that you can choose between different guides for different roles in dota is huge, and the text telling you when/why to use specific items for a hero is also majorly helpful. Imagine if you could pick a different guide in game for Senna support vs Senna adc, etc, that recommended specific choices based on the role and neatly fitted those recommendations into the UI.
  
• Dota has way, way, way more interesting items. There are so many active items in Dota, and they feel much more impactful. By comparison nearly every item in league is just a statstick that gives one form or another of more damage or more tank. In Dota there are items that silence for 5s, that disarm (teemo blind) for 3s, that root an aoe for 2s, that polymorph for 3s, that reset ALL your cooldowns including ult (this one has a 5 min cooldown, the rest are <20sec.) Dota's version of Thornmail has an active that hugely amplifies the reflected damage for 5second, so the item feels great to use and has more skill expression - you time the active correctly when someone is focusing you and it makes a big difference. Given that most effects last 3-5 seconds, it's not about super-precise timing like in League so much as it is about broader strategic choices of using it early or late in a fight, etc. The only items in league that feel as strong as Dota items are Zhonyas, GA, and Locket, with honorary mention for the perennially overpowered botrk.
  
• Dota has a way more beautiful map. It's not even close. Dota's map has so much going on. There are far more jungle camps, there's trees everywhere (which many hero abilities interact with in different ways!), there's high ground and low ground. There's so many different places and different entities and landforms, and it's just beautiful. League's map feels empty and stale by comparison. It's much smaller than dota's map, the jungle camps have fixed contents that never change (dota's camps rotate and change during the game). Not even to mention that Dota's map is divided in half and each team's side looks completely different from the other half. As opposed to league where they're identical but just rotated.
  
• Aghanim's shard and scepter. These are the my favorite things in Dota that league doesn't have. What are they? They're two items you can buy that each have a different effect on every single individual hero in the game. On a case by case basis, they either UNLOCK ENTIRE NEW ABILTIES (literally the UI expands to add a new slot when you buy them) or they upgrade one or more of your existing abilities to have entirely new effects. This is just so cool and I was shocked when I learned about them. It's just so fun being able to gain new abilities even late in the game.
  
• The talent tree, which is like an ability customization tree you progress through over the game and which is specific to the hero you're playing. In Dota the max level is 30, and every 5 levels in the game from level 10 onwards, you can unlock a "talent", at which point you pick one of two options to upgrade your hero. It might add 1s to your Q's stun. It might decrease the mana cost of your W. It might give you +250 base health, or +50 AD. It might add entirely new effects to your abilities, like making what was previously just a rooting projectile also start silencing. By level 30 you will have gotten to unlock everything in the tree (you don't typically reach level 30 very often in ranked games). Imagine if like at level 25 you could add "Mundo Q grounds for 0.5s" or "Irelia E +200 range". It's stuff like that and it's so fun.
  
• Dota is more team-oriented. Due to the prevalence of long-lasting debuffs/cc from both items and hero abilities, no one person can really just solo carry to the same extent as in League. In my experience you only very rarely see someone 1v9 in Dota, and usually it's because the enemy team is just making stupid choices. This makes the game a bit more tolerable on average, although you encounter the same toxicity as in league just the same.
  
• Dota has built-in voice chat. This actually does come in handy a lot. Hate not having it in league. It's typically effective and you can mute people in voice just the same as in chat so it's rarely been problematic in my personal experience so far.
  
• Dota has "turbo mode." This mode is just great. Wish league had it. It's basically norms, but with aram-level gold income so all players get to full build in like 20-30 min without even powerfarming. It's really fun and great for learning, experimenting, and playing casually with less commitment.
  
• In dota you don't recall. This means more time spent out on the map playing. Instead all players have the equivalent of the teleport summoner spell constantly available, which lets you take part in more plays. You also don't back to buy items, instead they get ferried out to you by little minions, which is great. Having items shipped out to you constantly instead of having to spend time retrieving them is awesome.
  
• Better demo tool by far. League's practice tool is notoriously shitty. Being able to open the demo tool while you're waiting in queue in Dota is amazing. Can't do that in league.
  
• Dota has 3 additional inactive item slots called the backpack. Love being able to hold 3 additional items that you can swap in or out (they're not usable from the backpack and you don't gain their effects, but you have them on your person to swap into from main inventory if you want). Just gives you nice flexibility when holding consumables and building stuff.
  
• Neutral items. This just doesn't exist in league and I wish it did because these are really fun and cool. When you kill neutral jungle camps in dota they drop items, and the power level of the items scales over the course of the game, from weak ruby crystal type stuff to things that are as strong as rabadons. And they don't take up a normal inventory slot, so you effectively get an actual 7th item in dota.
  
• The system for checking out customization and skins. Dota's system is pretty different, where instead of buying holistic skins that change everything, you can customize individual parts of a heroe's appearance, like their hat or their sword or their belt or gloves. There's WAYYYYY more options than in League, and you can try them all out in the client to see how they look.
  
• Cosmetics for things other than the heroes/champions themselves. In League you can only buy champion skins. In Dota you can buy cosmetics for the ancient (nexus), the towers, the creeps, the map, etc. None of that exists in League. We fucking WISH we could buy that kind of stuff. Riot are you listening?
  

Conclusions
On the whole I'd say there's more things to like about Dota than about League just in sheer quantity of bullet points, but regardless I love both games and think they're both really fun. If Dota improved their lore, their animations, and their tab screen and League improved their cosmetics store and had a more interesting and dynamic map, plus neutral items and agh's shard & scepter, I wouldn't really have any major complaints about either of them.
I think anyone who loves one game could potentially love the other one too and it's totally worth learning whichever one you don't already know, if you have the time. Obviously these games take a ton of time and most people barely have time for one let alone two. But if you're young especially, they're both really fun.
It's pretty hard for me to see eye-to-eye with the people who love one game and ferociously hate on the other - it seems childish and kind of empty. To not find one as fun as the other, sure, that's one thing, but to expend energy hating it and constantly shitting on it, that just confuses me. You can have a favorite while still acknowledging the other as a comparably enjoyable game.
One final note - one of the things I found most interesting about comparing them is seeing which mechanics are normal in one game that would be overpowered in the other game.
In Dota there is a hero named Nature's Prophet whose W is TF ult minus the vision. It has a one minute cooldown, going down to eventually 0 cooldown late game, and he can access it from level one if he chooses to. Nature's prophet would likely have a >90% wr in League.
But then in League we have Zilean and his stupid ult on a one minute cooldown, while in Dota that only exists as a one-time use item (like GA) that you are rewarded with when you defeat their version of Baron, and it is basically the strongest item in the game. Zilean would likely have a >90% wr in dota.

disturbing content i guess he was beautiful, he had a charm i couldn’t shake
he was so charming, that when he sa’d me (more than once) i convinced myself he was incapable and made a mistake, me loved me and wouldn’t hurt me
so charming that i convinced myself he didn’t mean to coerce me into having sex way before i planned to
so charming that i nearly lost my best friend, because he hated him and i was afraid of upsetting him now that he’d taken my virginity
he was so charming that when i had to beg him not to message people, including my ex i was convinced maybe his hearts in the right place, bad execution
he was so charming that when he forced me into positions i hated i still complied
so charming that i lost myself, i was petrified to talk to anyone, i was nothing but a bank and human fleshlight, who am i? i couldn’t tell you anymore i was just desperate for love from such a calloused heart.
when he said horrible things, because i hadn’t let him see my phone i had to dig a box cutter into my thigh and wait it out, 3am i get the sweet relief of an apology
the next day i go over to his house, i hug him as my heart pounded because i hadn’t seen him for the vessel of a person he truly is. i wanted to talk it out, he wanted to fuck it out i guess
the last condom, the ones i bought because i bought everything in that relationship. “you’re so beautiful, so thin, so pretty, so hot” those words matched with that smile i adored so much haunt me, and the way his hands grazed me,
the first person to make names like “baby” sound comforting and not icky
i remember my heart pounding out of anxiety but his presence made it go away and now what? he found me as a girl who just loved getting drunk to fill the void and now i get drunk to forget about the way he ravaged my body with his deceitful caress,
sometimes i consider s*cide which even shocks me, im not usually the type
but the fact i did everything right, gave him my patience, love, body, soul, money, care makes me wish i went out of line at some rate to deserve this
no, he decided i was uninteresting so uninteresting yet he didn’t mind fucking me 18 times as i pleased every single desire every single thing i did for him.
and now some chick is at his house, probably cuddling him like i did and he’s telling her how wonderful she is
i yearn for him to be beat bloody, yet i know some foolish part of me would rush to his rescue. he could apologise and id forgive him i cant resist him
obviously he’s not what i want, he’s pure evil
sometimes i want to be sa’d by him just one last time.
he blocked me on everything,
why do i love him? this is practically a death sentence
how will i believe someone loves me after this
perhaps it’s not in the cards for me, im not made to be loved by someone i’m ruined
if i die, i want that parasitic man to end me, end me once more. i’m 16, living the “teenage dream” hahahahaha i thought id never get sa’d how did i let this happen, let alone by a boyfriend
i’m waiting for the next person to ruin me, i don’t care anymore.
i find myself yearning for his abuse once more, it’s twisted, i’ve lost myself and i’m sorry everyone.
i’m sorry

our year group had to do biology presentations, and the teacher chose our partners + topic chapter randomly. last week me(15f) and my partner(15f) presented on homeostasis, and safe to say she thought it was bad. for the presentation itself, my partner barely did much except design the slides and maybe write the first one (using chatgpt) but 90℅ of the writing was mine. I also made the revision sheet, mainly practice questions and key vocabulary (not much design there).
we were the second presentation to go (also randomly picked). the presentation before us was described as "incredibly poor and lacked effort" so she "hoped that the next one would be better". turns out it wasn't. according to her there 1) was irrelevant information, 2) had areas missing, and 3) there weren't enough diagrams. at first I thought that was ridiculous and we did the best that we could, but this week's presentations were far better in terms of presentation and information. even the girls who got paired with the guys (and weren't good partners) did really well.
the teacher expressed her disappointment not once but TWICE, first time directly ("Im particularly disappointed with the girls") and today indirectly (" these presentations were the quality I was expecting from last week"). I know it's over, but these statements have made me cry multiple times and now I'm self conscious about the work I put in. maybe if I were as smart as the others we could've passed by, regardless of my partners lackluster inclusion.

Opening brief here.

Statute at Issue

18 USC § 922(o):
(1) Except as provided in paragraph (2), it shall be unlawful for any person to transfer or possess a machinegun.
(2) This subsection does not apply with respect to—
(A) a transfer to or by, or possession by or under the authority of, the United States or any department or agency thereof or a State, or a department, agency, or political subdivision thereof; or
(B) any lawful transfer or lawful possession of a machinegun that was lawfully possessed before the date this subsection takes effect. (That is, 5/19/1986)

Background

In January of 2020, ATF Agent Jason Weber negotiated with Kittson through Nikki, an informant, regarding the purchase of an unstamped WWII-era Russian-manufactured PPSh-41, which was not under Kittson’s possession and had a nonfunctional drum mag. Weber was then re-directed to another home under construction, and the renovator (not the homeowner) named Ray Bohanan had firearms including the PPSh. Bohanan, who happened to be a gun aficionado and a “survivalist” and was planning to retreat to a bunker he built in rural Oregon, had been convicted of a domestic violence misdemeanor and charged with narcotics possession, so he was prohibited under 18 USC §§ 922(g)(3) & (g)(9), respectively. However, Bohanon was never arrested and died in June of 2020. Kittson got indicted under 18 USC §§ 922(o) (Count 1) & 922(g)(1) (Count 2) and got arrested on May 28, 2021 per the arrest warrant.

Second Amendment Issue

At district level, besides citing Henry still being good law as Bruen didn’t disturb Heller and Miller, the government provided laws forbidding carrying weapons in terrorem populi, none of which are relevantly similar let alone distinctly similar to banning mere possession of certain arms. Judge Immergut (the same one for Measure 114) upheld the Hughes Amendment (18 USC § 922(o)) by citing the former. The problem with Henry, which was decided pre-Bruen, is that it used the fact that full autos are not in common use today (i.e. unusual) because of the Hughes Amendment. By using “dangerous and unusual”, the defender in the brief says the Henry panel used interest balancing to uphold the Hughes Amendment. In footnote 6, the 3rd Circuit en banc panel in the Range case warned courts to not latch onto and “overread” certain phrases like “law-abiding, responsible citizens” (and, though not mentioned, “presumptively lawful”) to uphold laws in question, especially via interest-balancing. The problem with Henry was that it didn’t use text, history, and tradition on whether full autos constituted “arms” under the plain text and whether the ban on possessing full autos is consistent with the Nation’s historical tradition of firearm regulation (or, it didn’t faithfully apply Heller). Rather, Henry used purely empirical and data analysis to uphold the ban and conclude that full autos are “dangerous and unusual”.
As we can see, one can say that the judge used interest balancing by saying that their own understanding of “unusual” derived from the numbers instead of using the THT method to understand what “unusual” historically meant. Personally speaking, I find that the evidence of interest-balancing in the Henry case is not really obvious, and the main error is that they misread Heller, especially its dicta, which “is inconceivable that [one] would rest [his or her] interpretation of the basic meaning of any guarantee of the Bill of Rights upon such a footnoted dictum in a case where the point [like the full auto] was not at issue and was not argued” per Heller’s footnote 25. The brief also cites the Duarte opinion as a good example of a very good application of text, history, and tradition of permanent disarmament of certain “people” like “felons” despite Heller saying that the law in question was “presumptively lawful.”

Summary of Other Issues

As mentioned earlier, Kittson claimed that he never actually or constructively possessed a machine gun. However, Kittson could have been charged for aiding and abetting the machinegun transfer, but defender claims that is defensible on 2 grounds. Statutorily speaking, the transferee was an ATF agent, so the transfer is lawful under § 922(o)(2)(A). The part where he can get criminally charged is Kittson’s lack of knowledge of Weber’s government status. Factually speaking, the PPSh-41 (which was historically unreliable mainly due to the drum mag) was nonfunctional because the magazine it was sold with was nonfunctional and incapable of being repaired to function (hmm, reminds me of the government saying that one need not have a magazine in order for a gun to function), so they unsuccessfully claimed that this wasn’t classifiable as a machinegun. That fact, however, was “omitted,” as Judge Immergut in the jury instructions said that a functioning magazine need not be equipped for a weapon to qualify as a full auto. Judge Immergut also didn’t allow the jury to factor in 922(o)(2)(A) (government exemptions) when giving the verdict, which deprived Kittson of his right to confront the charges and evidence against him and present a defense. Finally, the sentencing proceeding violated Kittson’s right to due process and a fair and impartial adjudicator. Judge Immergut’s fact findings were based on her personal practice as an Oregon state judge, not on evidence produced by the government. In this case, there was no evidence regarding some state judicial procedure relating to Kittson’s prior convictions produced by the government, but Judge Immergut decided to factor in anyway by awarding 1 criminal history point. By doing so, the court made itself a witness, thereby abandoning the requirement of neutrality.

Opening brief here.

Statute at Issue

18 USC § 922(o):
(1) Except as provided in paragraph (2), it shall be unlawful for any person to transfer or possess a machinegun.
(2) This subsection does not apply with respect to—
(A) a transfer to or by, or possession by or under the authority of, the United States or any department or agency thereof or a State, or a department, agency, or political subdivision thereof; or
(B) any lawful transfer or lawful possession of a machinegun that was lawfully possessed before the date this subsection takes effect. (That is, 5/19/1986)

Background

In January of 2020, ATF Agent Jason Weber negotiated with Kittson through Nikki, an informant, regarding the purchase of an unstamped WWII-era Russian-manufactured PPSh-41, which was not under Kittson’s possession and had a nonfunctional drum mag. Weber was then re-directed to another home under construction, and the renovator (not the homeowner) named Ray Bohanan had firearms including the PPSh. Bohanan, who happened to be a gun aficionado and a “survivalist” and was planning to retreat to a bunker he built in rural Oregon, had been convicted of a domestic violence misdemeanor and charged with narcotics possession, so he was prohibited under 18 USC §§ 922(g)(3) & (g)(9), respectively. However, Bohanon was never arrested and died in June of 2020. Kittson got indicted under 18 USC §§ 922(o) (Count 1) & 922(g)(1) (Count 2) and got arrested on May 28, 2021 per the arrest warrant.

Second Amendment Issue

At district level, besides citing Henry still being good law as Bruen didn’t disturb Heller and Miller, the government provided laws forbidding carrying weapons in terrorem populi, none of which are relevantly similar let alone distinctly similar to banning mere possession of certain arms. Judge Immergut (the same one for Measure 114) upheld the Hughes Amendment (18 USC § 922(o)) by citing the former. The problem with Henry, which was decided pre-Bruen, is that it used the fact that full autos are not in common use today (i.e. unusual) because of the Hughes Amendment. By using “dangerous and unusual”, the defender in the brief says the Henry panel used interest balancing to uphold the Hughes Amendment. In footnote 6, the 3rd Circuit en banc panel in the Range case warned courts to not latch onto and “overread” certain phrases like “law-abiding, responsible citizens” (and, though not mentioned, “presumptively lawful”) to uphold laws in question, especially via interest-balancing. The problem with Henry was that it didn’t use text, history, and tradition on whether full autos constituted “arms” under the plain text and whether the ban on possessing full autos is consistent with the Nation’s historical tradition of firearm regulation (or, it didn’t faithfully apply Heller). Rather, Henry used purely empirical and data analysis to uphold the ban and conclude that full autos are “dangerous and unusual”.
As we can see, one can say that the judge used interest balancing by saying that their own understanding of “unusual” derived from the numbers instead of using the THT method to understand what “unusual” historically meant. Personally speaking, I find that the evidence of interest-balancing in the Henry case is not really obvious, and the main error is that they misread Heller, especially its dicta, which “is inconceivable that [one] would rest [his or her] interpretation of the basic meaning of any guarantee of the Bill of Rights upon such a footnoted dictum in a case where the point [like the full auto] was not at issue and was not argued” per Heller’s footnote 25. The brief also cites the Duarte opinion as a good example of a very good application of text, history, and tradition of permanent disarmament of certain “people” like “felons” despite Heller saying that the law in question was “presumptively lawful.”

Summary of Other Issues

As mentioned earlier, Kittson claimed that he never actually or constructively possessed a machine gun. However, Kittson could have been charged for aiding and abetting the machinegun transfer, but defender claims that is defensible on 2 grounds. Statutorily speaking, the transferee was an ATF agent, so the transfer is lawful under § 922(o)(2)(A). The part where he can get criminally charged is Kittson’s lack of knowledge of Weber’s government status. Factually speaking, the PPSh-41 (which was historically unreliable mainly due to the drum mag) was nonfunctional because the magazine it was sold with was nonfunctional and incapable of being repaired to function (hmm, reminds me of the government saying that one need not have a magazine in order for a gun to function), so they unsuccessfully claimed that this wasn’t classifiable as a machinegun. That fact, however, was “omitted,” as Judge Immergut in the jury instructions said that a functioning magazine need not be equipped for a weapon to qualify as a full auto. Judge Immergut also didn’t allow the jury to factor in 922(o)(2)(A) (government exemptions) when giving the verdict, which deprived Kittson of his right to confront the charges and evidence against him and present a defense. Finally, the sentencing proceeding violated Kittson’s right to due process and a fair and impartial adjudicator. Judge Immergut’s fact findings were based on her personal practice as an Oregon state judge, not on evidence produced by the government. In this case, there was no evidence regarding some state judicial procedure relating to Kittson’s prior convictions produced by the government, but Judge Immergut decided to factor in anyway by awarding 1 criminal history point. By doing so, the court made itself a witness, thereby abandoning the requirement of neutrality.

25F here, was 23 when I started treatment with my ex therapist, at the time 35M. I was in treatment for depression and sexual trauma. I'd had a quite abusive childhood, left home at 17, and it took me about seven years to build a life and stabilize on my own to be able to go to therapy and try to start healing. I started treatment in June 2022 and was in treatment for fourteen months total. In the last four months, we'd been dealing with some stuff around erotic transference, but mainly I was just dealing with being attached and fantasized therapy conversation becoming my default internal state. I'd decided before I started treatment to take a year off of dating to really focus on myself. After about a year in treatment, I wanted to start dating again (in part because I was getting uncomfortable with the fact that my therapist was the only man in my life at the time other than one male supervisor at work).
My therapist seemed really shut down about me dating. He said a couple of encouraging words, but the looks and tones were very clearly....not encouraging. He also said it was bittersweet to him that I was starting to see other men. Sex is really complicated for me, and I hadn't had sex with a cis man in a few years when I started dating again, even though that's the demographic I'm most attracted to, so it was important for me to be able to talk to my therapist about what was going on there, but the fear that his regard would change or that his feelings would be hurt was really distracting and upsetting. Around this time, I was processing sexual trauma from when I was six, and then more from when I was twelve to sixteen, memories I'd repressed until I was in treatment. I was having intense flashbacks and panic attacks, and he didn't have any....feedback, advice, anything. He seemed to like that I spent most of my day fantasizing about talking to him, and encouraged that, but didn't lead me toward any other tools or resources, seemingly in the assumption that his presence alone would be healing.
All this came to a head at the end of August 2023. I asked him to take a few weeks off to consult with a female therapist in the hopes that that'd alleviate the sense that there was something wrong with how he was treating me. He fired me, telling me, and this is verbatim, "I seduced you, and then you seduced me, and it got pretty hot, and we should stop," adding "if I could give you that relationship, I would." I was never asking him for a dual relationship. I was attached to him, and had a lot of those types of feelings toward him, but I always knew that those weren't actually about him and was definitely never asking for a dual relationship.
I had brought up repeatedly over the course of treatment that it was a material financial burden. I had out of network benefits through my insurance, but it was still $225/week out of pocket, and I'd only get $140 back per session, and only after waiting at least a month for the claim to process, and only after meeting a $2k out of network deductible. Not the most expensive therapy but for me, it was a lot, and I told him that a number of times, and that I couldn't afford to do twice a week with him (something he recommended a few times in the last couple months of treatment). He's the only man in his practice group, and instead of refer me to one of his colleagues, he gave me the names of two completely unrelated clinicians whose fees were both over $300/session and he once again recommended I see someone twice per week.
About a month later, I emailed him to ask for my progress notes. He took a week to reply, only responding when I followed up, and then only sent me my treatment summary (a few brief sentences just saying when I started treatment, what the treatment was, and when it ended). I emailed his boss and got my notes from her. He'd written in the notes that we'd been dealing with erotic transference in every session for the last four months of treatment, even though that....was not the case, and there were plenty of sessions where I was just there to talk about my past, or what was happening during the week. He really didn't seem to understand the difference between being attached and erotic transference, even though he practices attachment based therapy.
Almost nine months later and I really don't know how to move on. My mental health absolutely tanked in the fall and it's been a long, uphill road to get back to something like normal functioning since. It was highly, highly retraumatizing, both in how I suddenly had zero support while processing the most traumatic events of my childhood and so I was just completely overtaken with the memories for months, all while blaming myself because...he said I seduced him, so it was my fault, so I was asking for it, so I had been asking for it the whole time. I know that's not true, but he really did a number on his way out. I'm doing better on that front at this point, not thanks to therapy, (I've tried with eight practitioners since him but he really poisoned the well), but I still can't let this go, and I don't know if I should make a complaint to the relevant office of professional discipline.
TLDR: 24F psychotherapy client asks 36M therapist who's been treating her for sexual trauma to take a few weeks off and consult with a female therapist about his behavior; therapist fires client, does not refer to any of the female clinicians in his practice group, refers only to clinicians he knew were unaffordable, and said "I seduced you, and you seduced me, and it got pretty hot, and we should stop" and "if I could give you that relationship, I would." Is this a reportable offence?

25F here, was 23 when I started treatment with my ex therapist, at the time 35M. I was in treatment for depression and sexual trauma. I'd had a quite abusive childhood, left home at 17, and it took me about seven years to build a life and stabilize on my own to be able to go to therapy and try to start healing. I started treatment in June 2022 and was in treatment for fourteen months total. In the last four months, we'd been dealing with some stuff around erotic transference, but mainly I was just dealing with being attached and fantasized therapy conversation becoming my default internal state. I'd decided before I started treatment to take a year off of dating to really focus on myself. After about a year in treatment, I wanted to start dating again (in part because I was getting uncomfortable with the fact that my therapist was the only man in my life at the time other than one male supervisor at work).
My therapist seemed really shut down about me dating. He said a couple of encouraging words, but the looks and tones were very clearly....not encouraging. He also said it was bittersweet to him that I was starting to see other men. Sex is really complicated for me, and I hadn't had sex with a cis man in a few years when I started dating again, even though that's the demographic I'm most attracted to, so it was important for me to be able to talk to my therapist about what was going on there, but the fear that his regard would change or that his feelings would be hurt was really distracting and upsetting. Around this time, I was processing sexual trauma from when I was six, and then more from when I was twelve to sixteen, memories I'd repressed until I was in treatment. I was having intense flashbacks and panic attacks, and he didn't have any....feedback, advice, anything. He seemed to like that I spent most of my day fantasizing about talking to him, and encouraged that, but didn't lead me toward any other tools or resources, seemingly in the assumption that his presence alone would be healing.
All this came to a head at the end of August 2023. I asked him to take a few weeks off to consult with a female therapist in the hopes that that'd alleviate the sense that there was something wrong with how he was treating me. He fired me, telling me, and this is verbatim, "I seduced you, and then you seduced me, and it got pretty hot, and we should stop," adding "if I could give you that relationship, I would." I was never asking him for a dual relationship. I was attached to him, and had a lot of those types of feelings toward him, but I always knew that those weren't actually about him and was definitely never asking for a dual relationship.
I had brought up repeatedly over the course of treatment that it was a material financial burden. I had out of network benefits through my insurance, but it was still $225/week out of pocket, and I'd only get $140 back per session, and only after waiting at least a month for the claim to process, and only after meeting a $2k out of network deductible. Not the most expensive therapy but for me, it was a lot, and I told him that a number of times, and that I couldn't afford to do twice a week with him (something he recommended a few times in the last couple months of treatment). He's the only man in his practice group, and instead of refer me to one of his colleagues, he gave me the names of two completely unrelated clinicians whose fees were both over $300/session and he once again recommended I see someone twice per week.
About a month later, I emailed him to ask for my progress notes. He took a week to reply, only responding when I followed up, and then only sent me my treatment summary (a few brief sentences just saying when I started treatment, what the treatment was, and when it ended). I emailed his boss and got my notes from her. He'd written in the notes that we'd been dealing with erotic transference in every session for the last four months of treatment, even though that....was not the case, and there were plenty of sessions where I was just there to talk about my past, or what was happening during the week. He really didn't seem to understand the difference between being attached and erotic transference, even though he practices attachment based therapy.
Almost nine months later and I really don't know how to move on. My mental health absolutely tanked in the fall and it's been a long, uphill road to get back to something like normal functioning since. It was highly, highly retraumatizing, both in how I suddenly had zero support while processing the most traumatic events of my childhood and so I was just completely overtaken with the memories for months, all while blaming myself because...he said I seduced him, so it was my fault, so I was asking for it, so I had been asking for it the whole time. I know that's not true, but he really did a number on his way out. I'm doing better on that front at this point, not thanks to therapy, (I've tried with eight practitioners since him but he really poisoned the well), but I still can't let this go, and I don't know if I should make a complaint to the relevant office of professional discipline.
TLDR: 24F psychotherapy client asks 36M therapist who's been treating her for sexual trauma to take a few weeks off and consult with a female therapist about his behavior; therapist fires client, does not refer to any of the female clinicians in his practice group, refers only to clinicians he knew were unaffordable, and said "I seduced you, and you seduced me, and it got pretty hot, and we should stop" and "if I could give you that relationship, I would." Is this a reportable offence?

Opening brief here.

Statute at Issue

18 USC § 922(o):
(1) Except as provided in paragraph (2), it shall be unlawful for any person to transfer or possess a machinegun.
(2) This subsection does not apply with respect to—
(A) a transfer to or by, or possession by or under the authority of, the United States or any department or agency thereof or a State, or a department, agency, or political subdivision thereof; or
(B) any lawful transfer or lawful possession of a machinegun that was lawfully possessed before the date this subsection takes effect. (That is, 5/19/1986)

Background

In January of 2020, ATF Agent Jason Weber negotiated with Kittson through Nikki, an informant, regarding the purchase of an unstamped WWII-era Russian-manufactured PPSh-41, which was not under Kittson’s possession and had a nonfunctional drum mag. Weber was then re-directed to another home under construction, and the renovator (not the homeowner) named Ray Bohanan had firearms including the PPSh. Bohanan, who happened to be a gun aficionado and a “survivalist” and was planning to retreat to a bunker he built in rural Oregon, had been convicted of a domestic violence misdemeanor and charged with narcotics possession, so he was prohibited under 18 USC §§ 922(g)(3) & (g)(9), respectively. However, Bohanon was never arrested and died in June of 2020. Kittson got indicted under 18 USC §§ 922(o) (Count 1) & 922(g)(1) (Count 2) and got arrested on May 28, 2021 per the arrest warrant.

Second Amendment Issue

At district level, besides citing Henry still being good law as Bruen didn’t disturb Heller and Miller, the government provided laws forbidding carrying weapons in terrorem populi, none of which are relevantly similar let alone distinctly similar to banning mere possession of certain arms. Judge Immergut (the same one for Measure 114) upheld the Hughes Amendment (18 USC § 922(o)) by citing the former. The problem with Henry, which was decided pre-Bruen, is that it used the fact that full autos are not in common use today (i.e. unusual) because of the Hughes Amendment. By using “dangerous and unusual”, the defender in the brief says the Henry panel used interest balancing to uphold the Hughes Amendment. In footnote 6, the 3rd Circuit en banc panel in the Range case warned courts to not latch onto and “overread” certain phrases like “law-abiding, responsible citizens” (and, though not mentioned, “presumptively lawful”) to uphold laws in question, especially via interest-balancing. The problem with Henry was that it didn’t use text, history, and tradition on whether full autos constituted “arms” under the plain text and whether the ban on possessing full autos is consistent with the Nation’s historical tradition of firearm regulation (or, it didn’t faithfully apply Heller). Rather, Henry used purely empirical and data analysis to uphold the ban and conclude that full autos are “dangerous and unusual”.
As we can see, one can say that the judge used interest balancing by saying that their own understanding of “unusual” derived from the numbers instead of using the THT method to understand what “unusual” historically meant. Personally speaking, I find that the evidence of interest-balancing in the Henry case is not really obvious, and the main error is that they misread Heller, especially its dicta, which “is inconceivable that [one] would rest [his or her] interpretation of the basic meaning of any guarantee of the Bill of Rights upon such a footnoted dictum in a case where the point [like the full auto] was not at issue and was not argued” per Heller’s footnote 25. The brief also cites the Duarte opinion as a good example of a very good application of text, history, and tradition of permanent disarmament of certain “people” like “felons” despite Heller saying that the law in question was “presumptively lawful.”

Summary of Other Issues

As mentioned earlier, Kittson claimed that he never actually or constructively possessed a machine gun. However, Kittson could have been charged for aiding and abetting the machinegun transfer, but defender claims that is defensible on 2 grounds. Statutorily speaking, the transferee was an ATF agent, so the transfer is lawful under § 922(o)(2)(A). The part where he can get criminally charged is Kittson’s lack of knowledge of Weber’s government status. Factually speaking, the PPSh-41 (which was historically unreliable mainly due to the drum mag) was nonfunctional because the magazine it was sold with was nonfunctional and incapable of being repaired to function (hmm, reminds me of the government saying that one need not have a magazine in order for a gun to function), so they unsuccessfully claimed that this wasn’t classifiable as a machinegun. That fact, however, was “omitted,” as Judge Immergut in the jury instructions said that a functioning magazine need not be equipped for a weapon to qualify as a full auto. Judge Immergut also didn’t allow the jury to factor in 922(o)(2)(A) (government exemptions) when giving the verdict, which deprived Kittson of his right to confront the charges and evidence against him and present a defense. Finally, the sentencing proceeding violated Kittson’s right to due process and a fair and impartial adjudicator. Judge Immergut’s fact findings were based on her personal practice as an Oregon state judge, not on evidence produced by the government. In this case, there was no evidence regarding some state judicial procedure relating to Kittson’s prior convictions produced by the government, but Judge Immergut decided to factor in anyway by awarding 1 criminal history point. By doing so, the court made itself a witness, thereby abandoning the requirement of neutrality.

25F here, was 23 when I started treatment with my ex therapist, at the time 35M. I was in treatment for depression and sexual trauma. I'd had a quite abusive childhood, left home at 17, and it took me about seven years to build a life and stabilize on my own to be able to go to therapy and try to start healing. I started treatment in June 2022 and was in treatment for fourteen months total. In the last four months, we'd been dealing with some stuff around erotic transference, but mainly I was just dealing with being attached and fantasized therapy conversation becoming my default internal state. I'd decided before I started treatment to take a year off of dating to really focus on myself. After about a year in treatment, I wanted to start dating again (in part because I was getting uncomfortable with the fact that my therapist was the only man in my life at the time other than one male supervisor at work).
My therapist seemed really shut down about me dating. He said a couple of encouraging words, but the looks and tones were very clearly....not encouraging. He also said it was bittersweet to him that I was starting to see other men. Sex is really complicated for me, and I hadn't had sex with a cis man in a few years when I started dating again, even though that's the demographic I'm most attracted to, so it was important for me to be able to talk to my therapist about what was going on there, but the fear that his regard would change or that his feelings would be hurt was really distracting and upsetting. Around this time, I was processing sexual trauma from when I was six, and then more from when I was twelve to sixteen, memories I'd repressed until I was in treatment. I was having intense flashbacks and panic attacks, and he didn't have any....feedback, advice, anything. He seemed to like that I spent most of my day fantasizing about talking to him, and encouraged that, but didn't lead me toward any other tools or resources, seemingly in the assumption that his presence alone would be healing.
All this came to a head at the end of August 2023. I asked him to take a few weeks off to consult with a female therapist in the hopes that that'd alleviate the sense that there was something wrong with how he was treating me. He fired me, telling me, and this is verbatim, "I seduced you, and then you seduced me, and it got pretty hot, and we should stop," adding "if I could give you that relationship, I would." I was never asking him for a dual relationship. I was attached to him, and had a lot of those types of feelings toward him, but I always knew that those weren't actually about him and was definitely never asking for a dual relationship.
I had brought up repeatedly over the course of treatment that it was a material financial burden. I had out of network benefits through my insurance, but it was still $225/week out of pocket, and I'd only get $140 back per session, and only after waiting at least a month for the claim to process, and only after meeting a $2k out of network deductible. Not the most expensive therapy but for me, it was a lot, and I told him that a number of times, and that I couldn't afford to do twice a week with him (something he recommended a few times in the last couple months of treatment). He's the only man in his practice group, and instead of refer me to one of his colleagues, he gave me the names of two completely unrelated clinicians whose fees were both over $300/session and he once again recommended I see someone twice per week.
About a month later, I emailed him to ask for my progress notes. He took a week to reply, only responding when I followed up, and then only sent me my treatment summary (a few brief sentences just saying when I started treatment, what the treatment was, and when it ended). I emailed his boss and got my notes from her. He'd written in the notes that we'd been dealing with erotic transference in every session for the last four months of treatment, even though that....was not the case, and there were plenty of sessions where I was just there to talk about my past, or what was happening during the week. He really didn't seem to understand the difference between being attached and erotic transference, even though he practices attachment based therapy.
Almost nine months later and I really don't know how to move on. My mental health absolutely tanked in the fall and it's been a long, uphill road to get back to something like normal functioning since. It was highly, highly retraumatizing, both in how I suddenly had zero support while processing the most traumatic events of my childhood and so I was just completely overtaken with the memories for months, all while blaming myself because...he said I seduced him, so it was my fault, so I was asking for it, so I had been asking for it the whole time. I know that's not true, but he really did a number on his way out. I'm doing better on that front at this point, not thanks to therapy, (I've tried with eight practitioners since him but he really poisoned the well), but I still can't let this go, and I don't know if I should make a complaint to the relevant office of professional discipline.
TLDR: 24F psychotherapy client asks 36M therapist who's been treating her for sexual trauma to take a few weeks off and consult with a female therapist about his behavior; therapist fires client, does not refer to any of the female clinicians in his practice group, refers only to clinicians he knew were unaffordable, and said "I seduced you, and you seduced me, and it got pretty hot, and we should stop" and "if I could give you that relationship, I would." Is this a reportable offence?

I naturally fell into babysitting around the age of 14. Through friends and family, I got leads for babysitting to score some cash, which definitely beat having to work at a restaurant. The job had its ups and downs, but overall it wasn’t a bad gig at all.
Yet, as many good experiences as I had, they were all eclipsed by one night.
A new family in town talked to my dad at work and it turned out that they needed a babysitter. I happily took the job and found myself watching their 10-year old boy a couple of weeks later. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the family themselves. They were the model citizens of suburban America, complete with the white picket fence and blue shutters. Nothing about their house was strange or even unique. Their son Avery was very mild-mannered and polite. Even their car was basic. Not that these were bad things, but I expected it to be a very boring night.
What I did not expect was the uncomfortable, inexplicable feeling that I got when I set foot in the house. A chill ran through me, but there was no draft. I rubbed my arms as I gazed at their staircase as we passed. They gave me a brief tour of the house before they left a note of instructions and all the usual information I expected from a job.
While trying to figure out what was making me so uneasy about the place, I noticed something about their basement door when I passed it. A padlock was placed on the door, along with a deadbolt in place.
"Any questions?” The father asked as my mind was pulled out of my curiosity.
"No, sir. Everything looks great!”
So they left and Avery and I played some games before I made dinner. A couple of times, I thought I heard Avery call me into the den. Both times, I found him sitting on the couch in what most recognize as the TV-zombie state. He denied having called me, and I went back to making dinner. After the third time, I told Avery it wasn’t funny and that he should stop.
“I’m not doing anything, I’m just watching TV!”
His voice went to that higher tone of pleading, sounding desperate for me to believe him.
“Avery, I know it’s my first time and sometimes you wanna test things out, but I’m trying to get dinner ready so if you call me again, I’m not checking on you, okay?”
“I didn't say anything.”
The child glared at the TV with a pouting face, and I began to feel bad. As many times as I’ve heard lies, I was starting to sense that he was telling the truth. So what was I hearing?
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not mad. Promise.”
Avery turned his head back towards me, seeming to test if I was the one fibbing now.
“How about I let you stay up a little later if we forget about it?”
“Do you really promise?”
“Pinky promise.”
With our contractual pinkies interlocked, spirits were raised again and I was able to finish dinner. Although I didn’t finish without hearing Avery’s voice calling me once more. I ignored it, and when Avery didn’t mention it at dinner I figured it was him fooling around again. The whole time we chatted as we ate, I couldn’t help but feel that something was not right about this house.
As hard as I tried to not look, my eyes kept diverting to the heavy padlock and chain on the basement door. Curiosity got the best of me and as we were cleaning up, I couldn’t help but ask.
“So Avery, what’s the deal with the basement door?”
“What do you mean?”
His words did not match his demeanor. It was obvious he didn’t make eye contact as he forced his sentence out.
“C’mon, you know what I mean. The padlock, chain, and deadbolt. Y’all have dangerous chemicals down there?”
Avery’s face grew paler and he stared at the wall for a moment.
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I didn’t mean to…”
“Dad said no one can talk about it anymore.”
This really threw me off, and I couldn’t possibly finish my sentence now. A thick veil of tension materialized between us.
“So you…you guys aren’t allowed to talk about it?”
Avery shook his head.
“Ah, okay. That’s cool. No big deal.”
It was nothing but a big deal.
Was their dad doing something illegal down there? Or was it something strange that no one could do anything about it? Maybe their dad was in denial about something going on. There were waaaaaay too many questions going through my head now.
“Hey, how about we put on a movie?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“What am I saying? Everyone likes movies, right?!”
Now excited, we decided on a fun movie that quickly pulled our minds away from the mysterious basement door. Well, that’s not entirely true. Maybe Avery was distracted, but it was killing me. As we ate popcorn, I couldn’t help but watch Avery, wondering what was going on in that little head of his.
Was there something awful going on in the house and there was nothing I could do to stop it? Or maybe the dad was just…
“Stop,” I told myself inwardly.
Mulling over it all endlessly was not doing myself any favors.
So the movie ended, and I ushered the drifting child to his bed. Now, the house was all to myself until twelve, so I had a good three and a half hours to myself. Immediately, I began texting my friend to tell her all about the weird experience I was having that night. She dismissed it, saying that I was getting spooked by a new place. This annoyed me to no end. I’d been at bigger, way creepier-looking houses but never got weird vibes like this.
Then…I heard it.
“Stephanie…..”
I went instantly still and listened intently.
“You didn’t hear that, Steph. Just keep texting your friend and…”
“Stephanieeeee…”
There was no mistaking it this time. It was definitely coming from the basement.
The acoustics couldn’t have been from Avery upstairs. The voice sounded like a little girl’s. In fact, I’m not even sure he could make his voice like that, anyway.
Slowly, I stood up from the couch and approached the door. Maybe like earlier, I was just hearing things. Maybe being creeped out by the house was starting to mess with my head. That made sense…right?
“Stephanie?”
I jumped back from the door, almost wetting myself in the process. There was no way I could dismiss it as anything else now. There was a little girl’s voice coming from the basement.
“H-hello?” I responded.
I couldn’t keep my voice from shaking.
“Is this Stephanie?”
“Y-yes, it’s Stephanie.”
“Can you help me?”
“Who are you? Why are you locked in the basement?”
“My name is Meredith Rosenberg. They’re kept me locked up for a long time now. The police were almost on to them and that’s why they moved. Can you get me out?”
A cold shock washed over me and made it hard to respond. Was I actually babysitting for a family that kept a little girl prisoner?
“Oh my God…um….how long have you been locked up with them?”
“Ever since I can remember.”
I felt somehow hot and cold at the same time, and wanted to throw up. This all made sense now with what Avery had told me. Of course his father didn’t want him talking about the door…
“I just need to find the keys and I can…”
“They’re hidden in the garage underneath the metal shelf. It’s inside a magnetic key holder.”
“Okay, just hold tight.”
In a panic to free the poor girl, I darted into the garage and began feeling the space underneath the bottom shelf and sure enough, there was a magnetic key holder there. Running back, I popped the key holder open and began to insert the key into the padlock.
“Did you find it?”
“Yes, sweetie. I’m almost there!”
“Oh, please hurry! Sometimes they come home early!”
This sent me into even more of a rush, and I barely managed to fumble the key into the padlock. I finally heard the successful click of the padlock, pulled the chain off, and slid the deadbolt to the right.
“I’m coming, Meredith. Hold on!”
I turned the doorknob and threw open the door, only to be met with darkness. Now full of adrenaline, my hands felt around for the light switch. Finally finding my purchase, I flicked the light on which lit up most of the stairs.
“Meredith?” I called out.
Unless I was remembering it wrong, it sounded like her voice was just on the other side of the door a minute ago. In fact, it was quite strange that she wasn’t waiting for me at the top of the stairs. Wouldn’t you immediately run out of a basement that you were locked in for God knows how long?
“I’m down here!” The little girl’s voice called out.
Judging from the distance, it sounded like she was calling from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs. My brain suddenly began piecing all the details of this interaction together and the idea of going down into the basement became absolutely terrifying.
“Meredith, you can come up now! The door’s open!”
I couldn’t hide the tremor in my voice. Why I was scared of a little girl was beyond me, but much like the house itself, something felt very wrong here.
“I hurt my leg, owww! When you said you were getting the key, I went back down to get some of my things and got hurt. Ahhh….”
Her sounds of pain filled me with sorrow, but an invisible force was holding me back from taking another step into that basement.
“Can you move? Maybe pull yourself up on the railing?”
“I can’t! It hurts too bad!”
“Okay, sweetie umm…”
“What’s wrong? Won’t you help me?”
“I-I it’s just…really dark down there and…and I don’t want to get hurt too. Is there any way you can get to the stairs? Any way at all?”
“I tried to sit up, but my shoulder hurts too much.”
“I thought you said your leg got hurt?”
The words hung in the air like a noose. It was only after I said it that I realized there was several things seriously wrong about all of this. A question popped into my head I didn’t even have time to think about until now.
How did she know where the padlock key was?
A deathly silence took up the space between me and wherever this girl was. It was a standoff, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say. There were questions I could ask her to figure out what was happening, but I felt that her answers weren’t going to be honest. Perhaps at this point, the truth was too frightful to know.
"Meredith? Are you still there?"
It was a stupid question, but it was the only thing my mind could conjure. The additional silence only unnerved me, so I decided to try and get a better look. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I clicked on the flashlight. It didn’t do me any good because of the awful range, so I did the one thing I’d already told myself not to do…
I took a step forward...
Maybe it was the angle of the stairs or the lighting, but that one step gave me more information than I ever wanted to know. I caught a better view of the bottom step, which was essentially a ledge into a black abyss. Something looked different on this step, but it took a second to register what it was.
The step was wet, a pool of some unknown liquid overflowing into the darkness of the basement. I knew for sure that the father hadn’t mentioned any flooding so it would be way too random for that. So I stood there, watching in frozen curiosity as the puddle then suddenly rippled…and I realized the abominable truth.
It wasn’t water.
It was a puddle of saliva…and something was drooling into it from the dark.
A wretched chuckle emanated from the horrid void beyond the step, and it cemented me even further into place. It was a wet chortle, and positively evil.
“How did you like my voices?” The thing said from the dark. “I’ve been practicing."
The epiphany creeped down my spine…it was now talking in Avery’s voice. Everything in my body screamed at me to run. I heard the screams but I couldn’t respond no matter how hard I tried.
"A pity though…almost got you."
At this, the most gruesome face peeled back the shadows and revealed itself, along with its unearthly mandibles and small fountain of saliva. My faculties finally came to and I threw myself into the house and kicked the door closed. In mere seconds, I had the door bolted and chained. Leaning against the door, my chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath.
Just as I felt I was safe, the door shuddered as a terrible blow rocked it. I screamed and ran upstairs to grab Avery.
I practically dragged the poor kid out the door and called the police. It wasn’t until the operator came on that I realized I was about to report a monster in the house. Thinking quickly, I told them that I heard a burglar in the home.
It wasn’t long before the police and Avery’s parents came home. Nothing was found, even in the basement, but I didn’t even care at that point. I just wanted the hell out of that house and away from whatever that….thing was. Avery’s parents kept glancing at me funny the whole time, probably because they knew I had their basement key. I shoved it into their hands before I hugged Avery and got into my car to drive home. That poor kid has to live in that house with that thing, but there was nothing I could do about it.
As long as I am alive, I will never….ever set foot in that house again.
And as for basements go, I can't go into them anymore. I just simply can't...

What kind of things would y'all suggest I put on a pre-set cheat sheet? Any good habits, tips, tricks, advice for those 60 seconds before its your turn to take control of the room?
Got a group of homies most of whom have been DJing for about a year or so, with a few experienced exceptions. Some of us are finally starting to book gigs and all of us practice at our local open decks joint consistently, but most of us practice at home on controllers that spoil you with all kinds of useful tools like pad fx, stem separation and detailed waveform analysis.
Considering when it comes to showtime we're either on CDJ-2000s or 3000s I think it'd be helpful to put together a little cheat sheet/checklist of things to adjust just as you're about to hop on for your set since we rarely have access to that equipment.
Primarily EDM/Bass Music DJs if that helps.
Here's what I got so far:

• Check the link cable is working/connected properly
• Adjust beat-jump interval to preference
• Make certain your USB is working properly
• Look to see the Jog Feel knob is where you want it
• Adjust waveform zoom in/out

Thanks in advance folks!

I’m in my second seat doing general M&A (though it has been quiet lately). I am considering applying to sit in TMT in my next seat, which is aligned with the corporate practice area - from what I can gather the types of tasks are going to be extremely similar (e.g. feeding into due d, drafting agreements), however the subject matter is of course very different from general M&A. Is it worth doing a second corporate seat or would it just feel very samey? I plan to move in house eventually and am aware TMT is very good for moving in house, though I have heard that it is also possible to switch from being an M&A lawyer to doing general in house commercial contracts.
Any views appreciated!

6’5 mf from bumfuck nowhere COOKS
Kendrick>>>
Demographics

• Gender: male
• Race/Ethnicity: white
• Residence: Rural VA
• Income Bracket: upper-middle
• Type of School: public (somewhat competitive tho, usually abt 1 Ivy+ per year)
• Hooks (Recruited Athlete, URM, First-Gen, Geographic, Legacy, etc.): maybe location? Idk

Intended Major(s): Aerospace Engineering, MechE for places that didn’t have Aero
Academics

• GPA (UW/W): 4.0 UW/ 4.53W (4.44 at time of apps)
• Rank (or percentile): 4 (5 during EA)
• Honors/AP/IB/Duel Enrollment/etc.: 6 APs, 9 DEs, 11 Honors, no IB
• Senior Year Course Load: AP Gov, AP Research, AP Art History, DE Calc 1, DE Brit Lit, DE Aerospace Engineering, Honors Physics, Spanish 3

Standardized Testing
List the highest scores earned and all scores that were reported.

• SAT I: 1520 superscore (two 1510s with 760R 750M and 750R 760M on 3 attempts)
• ACT: Didn’t Take
• 4 on AP Bio and AP Seminar, 5 on AP Lang

Extracurriculars/Activities
List all extracurricular involvements, including leadership roles, time commitments, major achievements, etc.

1. Internship (12)- Research Lab at T25, Helped create STEM classroom curriculum
2. Debate (11,12)- Team Captain, Top 10 at states in first year (got 2nd place in state after apps 🫠)
3. Scholastic Bowl (9-12) - Team Captain, led team to regionals for first time in years
4. Tennis (10-12) - Team Captain, raised some money
5. Engineering Club (8-12, yeah it’s weird) - VP, member of competition teams
6. Athletic Advisory Board (11-12) - Represented on behalf of academic teams and did community service, raised some money
7. After-school STEM club/daycare? (12) - Voluntarily chaparoned kids, got offered and accepted real job
8. Powerlifting (9-12) - On varsity team in 10 and 11 before it got deleted, started training before and continued after
9. Beta Club (10-12) - Didn’t do much but that’s mostly the officers’ and sponsor’s fault
10. Mentor (11-12) - Mentored other students in magnet school program
11. additional info - Got Best Delegate at my first Model UN competition after apps as a side quest/practice for debate, mentioned on deferral and waitlist replies later

Awards/Honors
List all awards and honors submitted on your application.

1. Collegeboard Rural/Small Town National Recognition
2. AP Scholar
3. AP Capstone Diploma
4. Magnet School Diploma Seal (Regional)
5. School award for achievement in Aerospace Engineering class

Letters of Recommendation
Counselor: 7/10. New hire right before my senior year so not much rapport but spoke to her somewhat frequently
History Teacher: 9/10. Bsf. Had him for class in 9th grade and I was the only one who answered during Zoom classes, was my Scholastic Bowl and Debate coach in years following. His writing is not the best tho so not a 10/10
Engineering Teacher: 8/10. Had him for 3 years and was part of his club for all of them. Can speak to my abilities super well. He moved districts before my senior year so didn’t see him for a bit but still pretty good regardless
Professor: 9/10. Interned under him over the summer and he trusted my capabilities a lot. Wrote lots of LORs before and even asked me what I wanted in it.
Interviews

• MIT: 7/10. Virtual. Interested in my research and seemed to vibe quite well. Didn’t talk for very long tho and looking back I didn’t really make as good of an impression as I would’ve wanted or talk about all my stuff as much as I wanted to.

Essays:
Common App: 9/10. Displayed my ability to set really high goals and never be discouraged by failure. Reviewed by friends at Princeton and Stanford, as well as former CMU admissions officer and highly praised
MIT supps: 9/10. Some of my best work. Reused for so many other schools and scholarships because god damn were they beautiful pieces of writing.
General supps: 7/10. Mixed bag. Some really good, some just ok. Spent a decent amount of time and was pretty happy with all of them
Results
Accepted:

• Johns Hopkins (RD)
• Georgia Tech (Deferred EA, accepted RD - committed!!)
• Purdue (EA)
• UMD (EA)
• Penn State - Waitlisted Honors College (EA)
• VT - Waitlisted Honors College (EA)
• UVA (EA)
• Pitt - Honors College (EA)
• George Mason - Honors College (EA)

Waitlisted

• Carnegie Mellon

Rejected

• MIT

Reflection:
GO YELLOW JACKETS WOOOOO
Final record of 9-1-1 (yay!)
Genuinely shocked by CMU waitlist because former admissions officer loved my personal and my supps. Was probably due to lack of insane math talent (displayed on apps that is).
Didn’t really get huge aid from anywhere but was able to cover most of the cost through existing savings and external scholarships (apply for lots of them, especially local ones!!!!)
Start early!! Going EA was super helpful. If you need to miss a school assignment or 2, you can make that up. Sometimes to have to have to wager your present for the sake of your future. This process can really suck at times but it’s manageable in the end.

Obviously, I'll be vague about the more sensitive or identifiable details, but here is a rundown of what has happened.
Recently moved back from overseas and looking for employment. This is in England.
Nov '23 - Interviewed for a role. I was told I was the last person to be interviewed on the way out, but an interviewer corrected that as an Executive was wondering whether to approach someone else about the role. A couple of days later I was told that I wasn't successful, but that they're putting me forward for another role that I might be suitable for.
Dec '23 - Meeting about the other role. It sounded great, and it was strongly suggested that I was the only candidate for the role. I got positive feedback and was told by the person in Talent (let's call them TK) that there needed to be a meeting to confirm the specifics of the role. This got pushed back a few times and I was told that it was definitely going ahead in the new year. As I had been living with family whilst I found my feet, I asked for a firm assurance that it would as I needed to move for the role, and my living arrangements were increasingly unstable and I'd need to move to a different city. I got firm assurance, and so my girlfriend and I moved into a flat closeby with a year's lease.
Jan - Feb '24 - The meeting kept being pushed back, or was vague. TK didn't keep me up to date and wouldn't always reply to texts/emails within a reasonable time. I got repeated assurance that the job was going ahead shortly. I was eventually told the job description had been finalised and I was sent a copy to review. I read it and said I was happy to move forward. I was emailed a conditional offer of employment document that was referred to as a contract. The conditions were;

1. Evidence I am eligible to work in the UK
2. Successful medical
3. Satisfactory references
4. Evidence of qualifications
5. Security clearances (incl overseas checks for the 2 countries I'd lived in outside of UK)
6. Successful 12 week probation
7. Agreement that employer can deduct any liabilities from salary
8. Acceptance of T&Cs in job offer letter

I signed the document and returned it. The week afterwards, I attended my medical and provided my ID documents for the checks to be carried out. The week after that, TK called to say that a new Executive had decided to take a different strategic direction and that the team I would be a part of had been pulled. For this reason, my job offer was withdrawn. I asked about the contract that I'd signed and TK said that they'd check. They called back the next day to explain that my overseas checks hadn't come back yet so they didn't owe me anything.
March - May '24 - I wanted to see if my checks would eventually come back, as that would satisfy another of the 8 conditions. My UK and one of the overseas ones came back clear, but the second overseas one was cancelled by the employer. I had independently had one carried out in this process and that came back clear, so I know I wouldn't have failed it. Following ACAS rules, I had already informally raised my concern over the phone, and so a formal grievance was the next step. The job offer had been withdrawn, but there had been no conversation around the document that was referred to as a contract, not even verbally. In that document, there are two sentences next to each other that are a little unclear:

Your notice period to \employer* will be 3 months from either side.*
\employer* will give you 1 month's notice for the first 4 years of employment and an additional 1 week for each additional full year of service up to a maximum of 12.*

These are right next to each other, but seem to contradict. I've also never seen the phrase "from either side" before.
In my grievance, I explained the negative effect this has had on my financial stability and mental health, and pointed out the notice period above. I also mentioned that I was now locked into living in an unfamiliar city, and that my future job search was now very limited to the area. I didn't ask for a specific outcome, just that I'd like to start a constructive dialogue and that I'd like to see their grievance policy. They've replied and reinforced their position that they don't contractually owe me anything as I didn't satisfy condition 6 - the probation. They also said that they'd offer 4 weeks' wages as an ex gratia. I haven't replied, as I'd like to properly understand my options.
Questions

1. How do you interpret the notice period?
2. Can a company withdraw a job offer and a contract without honouring a notice period for the reasons they've given (change of strategic direction / haven't completed probation). I haven't been given a chance to complete the probation and so it's not like I've underperformed or been frequently absent.
3. Is there a difference between a job offer and a contract, and do both have to be formally withdrawn?
4. Am I right in saying that because they haven't followed the ACAS Code of Practice for Grievances?
5. Do you think I have a case that is worth pursuing in ACAS' Early Conciliation / Tribunal?
6. Is there anything else I've missed?

Thanks so much, this has been a huge headache over the last 6 months.

There's been much discussion, both on the podcast and on this sub, about the extent to which those involved in the Playboy inner and outer circle were subject to NDAs. Most recently, Crystal has been criticized by Marston and HB for supposedly obtaining NDAs near the end of Hef's life and "silencing" his close friend. I think there is some fundamental misunderstandings about NDAs and what their role might be in this story.
Who am I? I am a silly little lawyer, practicing in California, and I love the intersection of law and popular culture. I wrote a journal article in law school about NDAs and the MeToo movement but sure as hell didn't try to get it published, so I've done deep dives into this topic but I am by no means an expert. I do love to learn, however, so if anyone has expertise in this area and wants to correct me or add onto any of this I would greatly appreciate it.
What is an NDA?
A non-disclosure agreement or an "NDA" refers to the broad spectrum of contractual agreements where the terms of the agreement bind at least one party from communicating about a pre-determined topic. Basically, a contract that makes at least someone keep quiet about something.
A contract requires (amongst other things) consideration by both parties. This means both parties have to give and take something for the contract to be valid. A contract, or an NDA, cannot just be a piece of paper where someone promises to do something. There has to be something in it for both sides.
Consideration, most commonly, takes the form of money. I pay you X, so you will do Y. But it can also be in the form of permission to engage in a certain activity. For example, I did an escape room once that had an NDA clause in the waiver so that people wouldn't go blabbing about how to solve the room once they were done. In exchange for getting to do the room, I agreed to the NDA. If I didn't want to agree to those terms, I could just not do the escape room.
The terms of the contract have to be reasonably balanced. You can't pay one cent for someone to agree to give you their firstborn child. Courts generally aren't in the business of scrutinizing the fairness of terms of contracts unless there's something grossly egregious about them, but it still has to make some modicum of sense.
Misunderstanding #1 - Anyone who signs an NDA is a victim being silenced by the other party.
This seems to be the assumption that HB and Marston are operating off of. There's this notion that Crystal forced all of Hef's circle to sign NDAs near the end of his life and now they're being silenced because of it.
First, you can't just have people sign NDAs and expect them to be enforceable. If Crystal did get NDAs from Hef's circle later in life, they had to have been paid consideration for it. Either Crystal offered them a sum of money (which they accepted) or the NDA was a requisite to partake in movie night, buffet dinner, etc. Either way, those who signed NDAs did so with an acceptance of what would be offered in exchange.
Obviously, there's argument that most people don't really understand the contracts they sign and wouldn't agree to them if they understood what they were giving up. But Hef's inner circle? These are people who have been in the entertainment industry for years, if not decades; these are people who have money to hire a lawyer, if not already have a lawyer on speed-dial. I am skeptical that if Dickie Bann was handed an NDA before entering the mansion for movie night he would've just signed it blindly.
Let's also consider the fact that the value of one's ability to speak out is inherently subjective. The criticism of an NDA assumes that the right to speak on a matter is something otherwise desired by the person agreeing to the NDA. It's easy to wonder why a victim would ever agree to an NDA and be prevented from speaking out about their experience. Frankly, before MeToo and the rise of social media, most victims of traumatic experiences were more inclined to speak less about their abuse than to go public. If you're a victim, and you already have no reason to speak to the public about your trauma, getting a significant payout to remain silent is actually a pretty solid deal.
Hef's friends are not victims by any means. But they showed a great amount of loyalty to him and the Playboy brand for decades before his death. I am incredibly skeptical of the notion that Hef's friends, but for some NDA, would have otherwise planned on ratting him out and showing the world that his health was declining.
The value of silence is subjective. Someone signing an NDA does not necessarily mean they are now restricted from publicly communicating something major. It very well might mean they just now have a legal obligation to do the thing that they would have done otherwise.
If, somehow, Crystal had been able to get Hef's friends to sign NDAs, I do not think that it influenced their behavior enough from what would have otherwise been that anyone needs to be that concerned about it. If it did, great, they probably got a great payout from it.
Misunderstanding #2 - NDAs are counter-intuitive to free speech and Hef would have never stood for them
As I'm sure many of you are aware, the First Amendment protection of free speech refers to the government's ability to restrict speech. Someone choosing to sign an NDA is not the same as the government preventing your broadcast from reaching its desired audiences. Someone choosing to not enter a private preschool with an AR-47 has nothing to do with their Second Amendment rights. The free speech that Hef specifically was known for advocating for had to do with censorship at the hands of the government from the broadcast of "obscene" content.
Maybe Bridget meant just the general philosophical idea of "free speech," which you would hope her masters in communication would have taught her to clarify the difference between. Regardles, remember, NDAs require consideration. This is not just ruthless silencing of innocent people who'd love to speak out about how awful Crystal is. These are wealthy, if not also highly educated, people in Hef's inner circle who, if they signed an NDA, surely understand the gravity (or lack thereof) of what they're agreeing to.
Likewise, I don't think Hef was against the idea of an NDA. Holly speculated that Hef wouldn't have required NDAs for those going into the bedroom because it would have given them a second to think about their decision. There's probably truth to this, but courts are also -very- reluctant to enforce any contracts that seem as though they would implicitly be authorizing sex in exchange for money. Also keep in mind the limited opportunities for women at that time to "speak out" if they even wanted to share about what happened in the bedroom. Hef probably would've loved for the public to hear what happened. There wasn't social media or the same understanding of power dynamics as there are these days. Who is someone who went into the bedroom and didn't sign an NDA and had a horrible time going to go to?
Someone can correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that Holly said she signed an NDA to work at the studio. This is perfectly reasonable. Anyone who is on a salary or signed a contract with an employer probably has signed off on an NDA clause and are currently bound by it. You couldn't keep something like who the Playmate of the Year was under wraps without some strict confidentiality provisions. The Playboy empire could not exist if there was some kind of blanket rule against NDAs.
Additionally, part of the allure of the mansion parties, per the podcast, were that no outside cameras were permitted inside. You're really gonna rag on someone not wanting a bunch of shitty iPhone shots of a man in his dying days, meanwhile you're singing the praises of exclusive parties that for decades wouldn't let people take and share photos of the event?
I am fully confident that Hef did not have issues with NDAs for business purposes, and certainly did not see that as contradicting his stance on free speech. In the podcast they said the mansion staff signed NDAs as part of their employment contracts There are countless examples of the Playboy company trying to silence people in Secrets of Playboy. Hef made it very clear that his stance was that free speech was important when it could help his bottom line. Anything else was negotiable.
Misunderstanding #3 - If someone signs an NDA it's automatically enforceable/If an NDA is unenforceable that will be obvious from the get go
To play devil's advocate to myself, I will say that whether an NDA is enforceable by a court of law and whether the parties abide by the terms are two separate issues. In many cases, a contract may not hold up in court if someone seeks to litigate over alleged violation of the terms. Most contracts don't get litigated over let alone actually get a final determination of their enforceability by a Court.
I will say that there's possibility that Crystal had people sign NDAs that were shotty but that the signers didn't understand that the NDAs weren't legitimate and so they still complied with the terms of the contract. (for example, often those waivers you sign for various activities wouldn't hold up in court, but people think they do, which precludes a lot of people from even considering bringing a claim) But this goes back to the type of people who would be signing these NDAs who otherwise might have access to sensitive information about Hef or the company. These are not girls coming out to do test shoots or the larger guest list at the mansion parties. These are people who are wealthy, powerful, and educated and would not be duped by the idea that merely signing an NDA with ridiculous terms would mean the contract is enforceable. Or perhaps they just didn't give a fuck enough about blabbing so there was no reason for them to even question the NDA that would stop them from saying something they weren't playing on saying.
Not a misunderstanding but one closing note in defense of these hypothetical NDAs - The power of speech for the average person has increased exponentially in the digital and social media age. HB acknowledge that the mansion parties were unique from anything currently because there weren't the same tools we have now to disseminate information. I think it's sort of an apples and oranges comparison in terms of confidentiality to compare the vibes of the buffet movie nights from the early 2000s to the 2010s, not even taking into account the nature of Hef's health.
I think Bridget talked about how a lot of screen contracts didn't allow for residuals from streaming services because they literally hadn't existed then. By the time smartphones and social media were ubiquotus I don't think Hef really gave that much of a care about protecting his or the brand's image. Hef never had a policy or strategy to address social media because it just wasn't even a problem for him to consider, not because he had some absolutely stance on letting anyone who came to the mansion say whatever they wanted about it to the masses.
Ok, I think that's all I have for now. Happy to talk about this or debate this more, but wanted to clear some things up since I feel like this drama with Crystal and allegations about NDAs is going to come up in the near future.

My car's transmission is on the fritz, so it's in the shop and I'm working from home for at least today. Thank goodness I can even work from home, or things would be a lot more complicated. Anyways, that's just a bit of a vent. I've also decided that I might do little lore-esque prechapter bits for some extra flavor. Hope you guys enjoy them! I find them to be fun little thought experiments on how people might perceive the world I've created from within vs from my own perspective. Enjoy some crafting and some romance!
First Previous Next
We know that the spots that are caused by looking at a source of light are, in fact, damage of some sort to the eye. This is confirmed by the spots rapidly disappearing should someone be healed whilst experiencing them. But why? Is there a divinity within light, beyond what our mortal eyes can withstand? Is there some sort of invisible emanation that comes alongside the light that damages us in some way? The discovery of light damaging the eye has opened more questions for me than it has closed.
-Musings on the Relations of Light and Fire, by Jarwic Leftun
\***
Xander carefully opened the door, finding Gabrelle already asleep, and sat down on a chair. Maybe he could get that adaptive camouflage to work right on bright colors. Surely he had some colorful things in his inventory.
He did in fact have a few colorful things in his inventory, and he whiled the rest of the night away making small adjustments to the runic array that was embroidered into the cloth. He was satisfied before dawn, the cloth now performing as well with light colors as it had with darker colors. Now he just needed to make a cloak out of it. He briefly considered coating his armor with the array, but discarded it. There might be times where he’d want to be seen. Besides, a hooded cloak would better break up the outline of his figure, the ripples of fabric, especially if he were to crouch or lay prone, obscuring his outline even more. In little time at all, he had a long, deep hooded cloak of the color shifting, runed cloth in his hands. He stashed it in his inventory for now, as he had no particular need to sneak up on something right now. The rest of the time before dawn he spent silently sitting in the chair he’d chosen, trying to keep his thoughts to a minimum, just daydreaming. Night dreaming? He couldn’t sleep anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to let his mind wander.
As the dawn came and the sun began to shine through the window of the room, Gabrelle slowly awoke, once more finding Xander sitting in a chair rather than in bed.
“Mmf,” She grunted as she stretched. “Morning, Xander. You got back late.”
“Morning, yourself,” Xander said, turning his head to look at Gabrelle. “Yeah... Yeah, I guess I did.”
“What were you doing, anyway?” She asked, curious. “You didn’t mention that you’d be out late, just that you were going to go to see Valteria at her shop.”
“I uh... went on a date.”
“I knew it! ‘Comparing notes’ was a date!” Gabrelle exclaimed triumphantly.
“It was not!” Xander complained. “But we went to a tavern in the evening and it sort of... turned into a date on the way there.”
“Awhh, that’s so cute,” Gabrelle said. “Did it go well? Is she nice? Did you kiss?”
“I think it went well. We talked a lot about different projects and ideas we had. I also got to meet another [Godsmarked] - he owns the tavern we went to. I think she’s nice. Maybe a little shy. I think she’s gotten used to being treated differently by people. I don’t think she really believed that I wanted to go on a date with her, at first. ...And yes. We kissed.”
“Ooooh, look at you! You’re growing up so fast!” Gabrelle teased.
“Oh hush. I’m older than you!” Xander huffed, then returned to seriousness. “But ah, if I’m going to be dating someone... we need to have a conversation, Gabrelle.”
“We need to stop sleeping together?” Gabrelle quickly deduced before Xander could say it himself.
“Yeah... It doesn’t feel right, even though it’s just platonic between us. I don’t think I would appreciate being in Valteria’s situation and knowing that the person I was seeing was sleeping with someone else at night.”
“Well, I figured this would happen eventually,” Gabrelle said. “Either you or I were bound to find someone eventually. Don’t worry, I’m not upset. Don’t get me wrong, the snuggles were nice, but like I told you a while ago, I don’t have nearly as much trouble sleeping when I’m with the team.”
“Thanks for not being upset, Gabrelle.”
“You know this means you have to start paying for your own room, though, right?”
“Ah, shit, you’re right. I forgot.”
Xander left the room to allow Gabrelle some privacy to get dressed and meandered back down the stairs to see if any other members of the team were already up. Looking around, he spied Graffus eating breakfast at at table and moved to sit with the dwarf.
“Mornin’” Graffus greeted Xander through a mouthful of bread.
“Morning,” Xander greeted back.
“Glad to see you made it back, we were wondering if you’d be out all night,” Graffus told him, after swallowing his bread.
“I was out a bit late, I suppose. I let the time get away from me.” Xander said, not really wanted to be teased again about going out on a date. “So what are you planning to do today?”
“Bah, Frazay has roped me into helping her do research for the drakeling. So reading is what’s in store for me.” Graffus tore himself off another piece of bread from his plate and slathered it with jam. “You going to be going back to that [Tinker] you’ve been spending time with lately?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan. I’m supposed to learn more about converting mana types today, and also help her fix the suit of armor that I wrecked.”
“Welp,” Graffus said, now on his last piece of bread, “I hope ya learn something new. Never had much to do with [Tinker]s – not saying I dislike them, just that I haven’t had much experience with them – so it don’t make much sense to me. Using a hammer is about the only overlap in our professions.”
“I think your hammer is significantly larger than the one most [Tinker]s would use,” Xander chuckled. Thinking about what he should be doing before he headed to Valteria’s, he asked Graffus, “Hey, I might need to buy some monster parts or elemental cores, something like that, for practice. You know where I would go to find stuff like that?”
Graffus shrugged. “Dunno. My guess would be an alchemy and reagents shop. That’s generally what we’ve sold monster parts to that didn’t go to a smith or leatherworker.”
“Thanks, Graffus.”
The two of them chatted for a while longer, catching up on what each other had been doing. Graffus excused himself to finish getting ready for the day, saying he needed to tend to his beard, leaving Xander downstairs. Deciding to be productive and proactive, Xander stood as well and headed out of the inn to find an alchemy shop.
It wasn’t long before he found one, a familiar scene of an eclectic collection of powders, liquids, crystals, and strange organic things floating in jars inside the building. The proprietor was a dwarf, seated at a workbench. They were grinding something into a powder as Xander entered. He received a distracted greeting before the dwarf returned to his work.
Xander wandered about the shop for a few minutes, looking at the various materials throughout the shop. He identified what he thought might be an elemental core, a jagged piece of crystal looking material that seemed to have an inner flame. As for the monster parts in jars, Xander had no idea what was what. He finally felt he’d waited long enough and moved closer to the worktable that the dwarf was still sitting at, working away at the mortar and pestle.
“Excuse me,” Xander said, grabbing the shopkeep’s attention.
“Mm?” The dwarf said questioningly. “Can I help you find something?”
“I was wondering if you had any elemental cores. Something small, I just need one to practice with.”
“Aye, I’ve a few of them around the shop. You want something to practice with? So a relatively weak core, then – not all the small ones are weak. Do you need any particular type?” The dwarf stood up and stretched, moving to one of the shelves.
“Uhm no, just whatever is cost effective, I suppose.”
The alchemist rifled through the various bits and bobs on one of the shelves nearby before producing a small chip of what looked to be a semi-translucent stone. It was tinged slightly yellow with streaks of white. “This here is a chip off a lightning attuned core. Pretty weak, but it does still produce mana.”
Xander could see the dwarf’s arm hair standing up as if from static electicity as he held up the stone. “How much?” He asked.
“Twenty gold.”
Xander shrugged. Twenty gold wasn’t an issue for him anymore, and he didn’t feel like haggling. He always hated haggling. “Sure.” He fished out the coin and handed it over to the dwarf.
The dwarf handed over the stone to Xander and the pop of a static electric shock could be heard as a tiny arc passed between the two of them. The dwarf grunted and shook his hand. “Thanks for the business,” he told Xander. “Anything else you find yourself in need of?”
“Not at the moment, but thanks for asking.” Xander waved goodbye to the dwarf and pocketed the tiny elemental core. He continued down the street in the direction of Valteria’s shop, thinking about how he was going to undo the welding job he’d done on Valteria’s armor. He’d need her to guide his repair efforts.
Xander returned to the inn momentarily to grab one of his golems. He settled on Atlas for now, as it was the most basic of the humanoid forms he’d created. No extra arms or weird feet on him, no sir.
Arriving at the building that contained Valteria’s home and shop, Xander knocked before opening the door. “Morning,” he called out.
“Xander! Hello!” Valteria called out. She was at the same work bench she’d been at yesterday. Jarrett didn’t seem to be in the shop at the moment, as Xander wasn’t able to spot the man.
Commanding Atlas to follow him in and closing the door behind him, Xander started walking towards Valteria. “How’s it going?” He asked.
“Good, it’s going good,” Valteria responded as Xander brought a stool over to her workbench. “How about yourself?”
“Not bad. The upside of not sleeping is that I never struggle in the mornings now. I used to hate waking up.” Xander laughed. “I even ran an errand before I came here! Picked up this.” Xander fished around in his pocket until he found the small chip of elemental core and held it up for Valteria to see.
“Core?” She asked distractedly, staring at Atlas. She tore her eyes away and looked closely at the small crystalline stone. “Lightning attuned?”
“That’s what the [Alchemist] at the shop said,” Xander affirmed. “Said it was a very weak one, but that it did still produce mana.”
“Mmm, a good practice piece, then.”
“I thought it would be, too. Not that I know what to do with it, yet.”
“Well, how about this: I teach you to set the stone and make some conduit, and then you can help me fix my armor. All the glue has turned to dust by now, thank the gods.”
“Sounds fair enough. So, how do mana conduits work?”
“Well, the concept is simple enough. It’s a tube which conducts mana,” Valteria began to explain.
“Mmhm.” Xander nodded along.
“What you need is a setting – usually of silver, as it has good mana conductivity – which will be the first step of conduction, taking the mana from the stone. Simply wrapping the core in silver wire can work well enough, drawing in the mana that the core puts out through its surface, but for a more effecient setting, small holes are usually drilled into the core to set the wire into as well, giving more surface area to draw from.”
“So we care about the mana conductivity of the material, then? That makes sense, I just hadn’t thought about it. I actually did a little experiment with my rune work to test which fillings were the most conductive.”
“Oh really?” Valteria said, interested. “What were your results?”
“Well, gold and silver were high up there in conductivity, and probably make the most sense for someone who has to physically manipulate material without use of a skill – both for a core setting and for inlaying a rune – but I did find that sapphires and rubies were even more efficient at transferring mana than gold and silver.”
“Mmm... interesting. I’ve heard of gemstones being used in very high-grade settings, as well as various other exotic materials. I read an account of one [Mechanist] who used tubes of mercury to conduct mana, though the relative effectiveness compared to silver wasn’t mentioned.” Valteria cleared her throat. “Uhm, now, where was I? Right, basic settings. Once you have your core – or monster organ, if you’re going that route – you connect it to the conduit. Usually, this is also silver wiring. I like to braid several smaller wires together, personally. I find it to be sturdier and hold up to flexing better. From there, it needs to be tied into a device. Which is a topic for tomorrow.” Looking around the shop, Valteria seemed to identify something on one of the shelves nearby. “I have a core that you could watch me set, and then you could try setting your own, if you’d like.”
“That sounds good to me,” Xander said. “I always love to see a master as work,” he added, opting for a little flattery.
“Follow me, then.” Valteria said, standing up from her stool and waving for Xander to follow.
Xander followed Valteria as she walked over to the shelf she’d been looking at earlier and took a palm sized, bright green stone from it. “Nature attuned core,” She explained, holding it for Xander to see. “I’m told it was taken from some kind of moving tree.” Valteria then moved to another worktable, on which were several of what looked to be drill bits to Xander. There was also an apparatus that look like it was designed to hold the bits, which was confirmed for him when Valteria slotted one of the small drill heads into the device. “This thing,” Valteria said, waving the drill a little bit, “is a life saver. I used to have to drill holes with a hand cranked one. Worth every single coin I paid for it to get an enchanted one.” She turned a dial on one side of the handheld device, which Xander was coming to think of as a magic dremel tool, and it began to come to life, the drill bit beginning to spin with a quiet whirring sound.
“Neat.” Xander commented. He watched patiently as Valteria drilled a series of shallow holes in the stone, the distinct screeching of metal on stone echoing through the shop floor. “So where’s Jarrett today?” He asked.
“Oh, he has the day off today. He asked for it about a week ago, not sure what for, though,” Valteria said distractedly. Soon she was finished with the holes she was drilling into the core, and moved to another workbench. “Now we create a setting for the core. This is a fairly simple way of doing it, mind you, but it is effective.”
Xander watched as she took sections of pre-braided silver wire and fitted the ends into the holes she had drilled. Once each hole was filled with a section of wire, Valteria began to pull wire from a spool, wrapping the stone until it was completely covered with silver wire and binding the braided sections to the stone in the process. “There,” she said, setting the stone down on the workbench. “A perfectly serviceable setting."
“So, if I understand correctly, you coat the core in a mana conductive material – the more surface area, the better, hence the holes – to create a setting?”
“Mmhmm,” Valteria said, nodding.
“Seems fairly straighforward. And then you connect the silver wiring that’s wrapped around it to more wiring, and attach that to your device? Why the distance? Why not just connect the setting directly to the device?”
“You absolutely can, if space isn’t an issue. Technically, the connection between the mana battery and the device, even if it’s just a single point with no distance, is still referred to as a conduit, though, so it’s considered a three part creation.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Do you want to try making your own, now? I don’t mind lending you a little wire.”
“Sure, but I should be good on material, I can produce it with my skills. Doesn’t last without a source of mana, but I guess the core itself might provide enough. Think this little chip is a bit small to put holes in, though.”
Xander looked at the small piece of crystal in his hand. If he just need as much contact as possible with a mana conductive material, his best bet would be to embed it into a sapphire or ruby. He decided on ruby, for no particular reason. Still holding the chip of core in his hand, he concentrated on his [Creation] ability. Valteria watched, amazed, as a ruby began to take form and grow around the piece of core until it was completely coated in a thin layer of gemstone.
“So, you can just... make things?” Valteria asked, sounding jealous.
“Well, it costs mana, and anything I make that isn’t provided a source of mana that leaves my person disintegrates in a day, but, yes. I can just make things with my skills. But,” he added, cutting off Valteria’s complaint of unfairness, “I have never received a skill that actually lets me improve a material. Sure, I have runes, which generally makes up the difference, but I don’t have any skills that improve the things I make. So, if you made a mana battery, and I made a mana battery the same way with identical materials, yours is going to be better, I assume, because you have skills that passively improve the things that you make, am I right?”
“Okayyy,” Valteria huffed. “I guess that does make it a little less unfair. But ugh! It would be so nice not having to source materials.” She looked at the ruby with a piece of core set inside it that Xander had made. “Well, I guess that about does it for making a setting... I thought it might have taken you longer to make one. I guess we can move on to fixing my armor even sooner! It’ll be nice to have it up and moving again.”
“Sure, sure, we can do that. Where is it, anyway?” Xander asked, looking around the shop again like he somehow would have missed the eight foot tall suit of armor.
“It’s in a shed behind the house,” Valteria explained. “I have it on a hoist so I can work on it.”
“Ah, that would explain why I haven’t seen it around.”
Exiting the shop, stopping for Valteria to put a small ‘closed’ sign on the door, the two of them made their way around the building, where Xander saw the small shed that presumably held Valteria’s armor. It looked like it could just barely hold the armor and one person – two, if they were comfortable with each other – inside it.
“So this is where the magic happens?” Xander asked.
“If by ‘magic’ you mean maintenance and upgrades, then yes,” Valteria agreed. She opened the door of the shed, which comprised most of the front of the tiny little building, revealing her suit of armor, which was currently hanging from several chains attached to pulleys on the ceiling. Plates of armor were laying strewn about the suite, leaving the joints and inner workings more exposed.
Xander whistled, looking at the inner workings of the suit. He could see gears, cogs, and joints, and throughout the entirety of the armor were running filaments of silver wire, which he assumed were mana conduits running to and from elemental cores and the various mana powered aspects of the suit. “This thing really is impressive. Almost as impressive as the woman who made it,” he said.
Valteria giggled, “Stop it! You’re supposed to be fixing this mess, not flirting with me!”
“Awh, can’t I do both?” Xander asked, trying to sound as saccharine as possible.
“Mmm, I suppose that if you are sufficiently skilled at multitasking, I might allow it,” Valteria said in a mockingly thoughtful tone.
“Well, I just so happen to be an expert, so flirt away I shall,” Xander replied. “Now, how about the beauty in front of me shows me exactly where the other beauty in front of me needs some repairs?”
Valteria sighed at Xander’s antics, but he could see the slight flush in her face. “Well, you welded the wrist joints, elbows, and knees. They aren’t welded all the way round, it’s more like you smoothed over a portion of it like it was wet clay. So if you could just... put it back? Shape it back to how it was, that’s should be all that’s needed.”
“Pretty straightforward,” Xander said, standing behind Valteria as she pointed out each joint. He could see the misshapen parts where he’d slapped a weld onto the metal. He leaned over her and put his hands on the elbow joint that they were closest to and began to shape the metal back to its original form.
“You’re... very close,” Valteria murmured to him as he formed the metal.
“Would you like me not to be?” He asked, carefully.
Valteria was silent for a moment before answering, “No...” quietly.
Xander carefully shifted to be a little closer, but still not quite touching, as he moved on to the wrist joint of the same arm. The process itself was simple, but he was enjoying taking his time. As he finished the wrist, he turned to look at Valteria. He found himself looking right into her eyes, as she was staring back at him. Unable to resist the temptation he leaned in a little closer, gauging Valteria’s reaction. When she, too, leaned towards him, he closed the small gap between them, drawing her into another kiss. Valteria pressed herself against him, the shed hiding them from any prying eyes on the street, and let out a small noise as Xander squeezed her tight. She was breathing a little bit harder than before the kiss as they separated again.
Valteria let out a breath. “You’re… a really good kisser.”
“Yeah?” Xander said, pleased with himself. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“And you’re a tease, looming over me like that in this tiny little shed,” Valteria continued. “Now you’ve got me all flustered, how am I supposed to work now?” She mock complained.
Xander was glad to see that Valteria was comfortable enough with him to joke like that. “Forgive me,” he said formally, making a deep bow, “How ever can I make it up to the lady?”
“Oh stop it, I will tolerate no bowing and scraping, even in jest,” Valteria said, slapping him lightly on the shoulder, as he was still holding the bow. “You can make it up to me by fixing the rest of these joints! And by taking me out to dinner?” She added, hopefully.
“I think that can be arranged,” Xander said. “Is there anywhere you have in mind? I will admit, I haven’t become very familiar with the local restaurant scene, what with my… dietary restrictions.”
“It doesn’t… make you feel bad to go out to a restaurant, does it?” Valteria asked softly, watching his face for a reaction.
“Nah, don’t worry,” Xander said, waving off the question with one hand. “It doesn’t bother me too much. Sure, I miss the taste of a good cut of steak, but I was never that into food. Eating was more of a thing I did because I had to, so I’m not completely devastated by the loss. And I can still get some vicarious enjoyment out of watching someone else enjoy their food. Really the worst part is awkwardly having to refuse ordering anything,” he said with a laugh.
“Alright, if you say so,” Valteria said, letting out a slight breath of relief. “I was just worried that it might be upsetting to you, is all. I know I would miss eating.” She paused for a moment, something clearly on her mind. “What do you miss? If you don’t mind my asking. I just… well, I’m curious what it’s like for you.”
“Mmm, in a lot of ways, life is still the same, and in other ways, I’m technically doing better than I was before. I’m incredibly resistant to damage now, even without my armor. I do miss sleeping, though. I try to give my mind a rest and just sort of daydream and let my thoughts wander or do some meditation during the nights, but it’s just not the same. Also means I’m the one that pulls guard duty through the night,” he grumbled. “Let’s see, what else, what else. Ah, right. I can’t smell anything. Or taste. I haven’t worked out how to recreate those senses, yet. Though no sense of smell can be handy sometimes, I suppose. I don’t know if you’ve done much merc work – you mentioned being surprised that I’m not just moonlighting – but uh… the smells that you encounter on a battlefield are… unpleasant. To say the least. It was weird not having a sense of touch either, but I’ve resolved that. It’s a little bit different than my previous, natural sense of touch, but I’ve become accustomed to it to the point that I don’t much think about the difference anymore. I think I’ve even got the density of receptors down in certain areas compared to others, so I'm more sensitive in some areas than others now, just like I used to be. I’m still immune to being tickled though, so don’t even think about it – that’s a fight you’ll lose.” Growing a bit more somber, Xander continued on. “I think… the biggest thing I miss is just the feeling that I fit in more. Now I always worry about being different, there’s that nagging fear that anyone I get to know well is going to reject me once they find out what I am. Like I’m secretly lying to everyone around me with this façade I have going on.”
Valteria nodded sadly. “I get that. I’ve been… rejected before, too. At least it happens or not right from the beginning for me. I get to know if they look down on me for being different immediately instead of fearing they might later down the road.”
“Yeah,” Xander said. “People can really suck sometimes. But at least I can just, like, not tell people what I am if I so chose. You, my teammates, and the guild, since it’s on my status sheet, are really the only people who know. I keep it pretty private. You can’t do that, so I think you probably have to deal with a lot worse than I do. Not that I’d want you to hide what or who you are,” he added. “I happen to be quite enamored with who you are,” he said, teasing a smile from Valteria’s sad face.
“Sorry to bring up such a dour topic,” Valteria apologized. “I didn’t think much on it before I asked.”
“No worries,” Xander told her. “Honestly, I think it’s good to be able to talk about it with someone. It’s healthy to be able to get you feelings out there. And it helps that I feel like you understand where I’m coming from with it, though from a slightly different perspective.”
“You’re surprisingly thoughtful sometimes,” Valteria said, only half teasing.
“Only sometimes?” Xander asked with a faux expression of hurt on his face. “By the way, you didn’t react much to my comment about moonlighting as a merc. Do you ever go on contracts?”
Valteria shrugged. “I certainly wouldn’t describe myself as a professional mercenary. Moonlighter is an apt descriptor, for me, I think. I have gone on a couple, here and there, mostly on kill contracts that would net me a core or organ that would be useful for my work.”
“Mm, that makes sense. I suppose it could be handy having access to the ability to take contracts that would give you access to specialty materials,” Xander said.
“It’s also good for business,” Valteria explained. “Mercs tend to like to buy from someone who has at least been out on a contract or two before.”
“Ah, that makes sense. What kind of things do you sell to mercenaries, anyways? I saw Jarrett with a crossbow yesterday, but I imagine you make other things, too.”
“Oh all kinds of little things. Portable, flameless heaters for cooking. Water purification sieves. Mm, let’s see… I’ve made a few custom order devices, too. One customer wanted to be able to shoot a jet of flame from their gauntlet, that was a fun one.”
“Ooh, that does sound fun… reminds me of my flamethrower.”
“Your flamethrower?”
“Yeah, it’s basically a big tank with a hose attached to it. At the end of the hose is a pump that causes the flammable liquid – I use dragon’s tar – to shoot out. Add a flame that the tar passes over and bam! You’ve got a giant stream of flame that will coat anything it hits with sticky, flammable tar,” Xander said, excitedly describing the device.
“That’s… impressive. And kind of horrifying,” Valteria responded.
“Mm… I guess you’re right. I mostly use it on giant spiders. Blugh,” Xander shuddered. “But yeah, I suppose it’s not the nicest of ways to go. Very effective for area denial, though. Ah, actually I have an idea for crossbow bolt head that would ignite when it shatters! We should make that sometime and see if it sells.”
“Hmm, I think that would draw some buyers. A flaming bolt head you didn’t have to light first could be desirable to certain buyers.”
“Put that on the list and we’ll get around to it sometime.”
“We have a list?” Valteria said confusedly.
“We should!” Xander said with a laugh. “Now let’s get the rest of these joints done.”
The repair of the other arm and the leg joints that Xander had locked into position during the tournament was a short affair. Looking over the bare metal frame of the armor still hanging from the ceiling, Xander clapped his hands together, mimicking dusting them off. “Good as new!” He exclaimed. Looking over to Valteria he asked concernedly, “It is good as new, right?”
Valteria had been staring at the armor as well, lost in thought about how she was going to improve it next. “Hmm? Oh, yes. It’s right as rain again, ready for use. Thank you, by the way. For fixing it,” She said awkwardly.
“Well I’m the one who broke it, so it’s only fair that I fix it. So what do you want to work on next?” Xander asked. “I could do some rune work for you. Orrr… we could kiss some more?”
Valteria flushed at the question, but didn’t immediately say no.
A few minutes later, she found herself on her tip toes and lightly pressed against the interior wall of the shed, her lips pressed against Xanders.
Once the two of them were done acting like teenagers parked in a secluded parking lot, they made their way back into the shop. Stepping inside and closing the door behind them, Valteria let out a breath. “I think… you are going to have to do a lot of rune work to make up for how much you just kissed me, Xander.”
“What, you didn’t like it?” He said with a raised eyebrow.
“I didn’t say that,” Valteria said with a smirk.

A couple of years ago I tried writing my own version of Stones Abbigale. I never got past the first couple scenes, but I'm considering returning to it. I wanted to basically rewrite and change up a lot of things, mainly focusing on Abbi and Davis and changing some elements. Let me know what you think!

1
It's almost four in the morning and Seth is threatening suicide again. Good. Fuck him. I hope he does it. I don't text him that because I read about this girl who told her boyfriend to kill himself. The irony was that when he actually did it she got charged with second degree murder. My life is fucked as it is I don't need to make it worse. It's almost two in the morning and I have to be up for school in a few hours. I’m shivering under my comforter because we’re halfway through November. I think about the turkey that won't get made this year and the family I won't see. I think that's swell. Seth is still texting.
Its like u dont even care after everything that happened and after everything we did together i saved ur life and i stayed with u when u cried and i hugged u and i did everything for u but that wasn't enough was it? i try so hard and all u ever are is a bitch to me that's not fair u want me to die and u hate me and u dont even care and im sick of it abbi why is is so hard for u to care about me?
I don't respond. I don't like how I feel about this. This should be easy. He won't actually do it. He won't. He’s too self involved to kill himself. I put my phone face down on my bed. The sheets shake around it as he sends message after message. I was sleeping on a ticking bomb so I got off of it. My feet stick to the floor, I struggle to step. I might as well have been standing barefoot on ice. I trudge to my window so I can see my street at night. Winter is really coming. You can't hear as many birds as you used to. They've all gone. They've all flown away. I can see three streetlights from where I’m standing. If you can from right to left you can see the concrete fracture into the sand. I open my window and brace for the chill. I stick my head outside. The ocean is not far away. I hear it hitting the shore over and over. Waves of water splashing incessantly, almost beating out my text notifications. The street lights flicker. I think of last summer. When Seth and I got really high after the news broke that my Mom was cheating on my Dad. I was making out with that bong. Emptying bowl after bowl, clanking the glass on the road to empty it out. Just thinking about it makes me feel the street pole against my back again. I was laughing and crying. Seth leaned in and hugged me. “I’m a sure thing,” he said. “I love you and I always will.” I caught my reflection in his sunglasses. I looked awful. I shiver at the memory. My phone is still buzzing. I try to catch my breath. I shut my window and start to walk back to my bed. A room always looks different in the dark. Maybe you think you know where you are, but there is always something that can jump out at you on the floor. Like a ghostly paper bag or a vengeful shoe. Objects that seem to move on their own with the sole drive of tripping you. I crawl back into bed. There's the phantom of Dad’s snoring . I know he's not sleeping in his room, he fell asleep on the couch after finishing his seventh fifth. Sometimes my brain fills in the gaps so I can hear it everywhere. Funnily, I haven't actually heard him snore since Mom left. That's the one thing I ever heard them fight about. Before she turned out to be a whore, I guess. BZZT.BZZT.BZZT. I can't bring myself to read any of his messages. They're coming so fast all the paragraphs are lost to motion blur. Seth’s arms wrap around me and I think about the beating of his heart and the warmth of his lips against my skin. I open up the texts, ready to respond.
I love you
I text this over and over until I fall asleep.
Davis was the only senior on the bus. Somehow, everyone else had a car or a ride. It’s all right, though. James would probably give him one if he had a car, but he skated to school every morning. That's why he barely ever rode the bus with him. The bus thumped along the under paved roads. Davis forgot his earbuds at home, so the only music that accompanied him was his racing thoughts. Two sophomore girls popped their heads over. “Ohmigod, Davis!” One of them shrieked.. “As I live and breathe,” he smiled. “Nice,” she said. “I’m so excited to see your finished painting.” Davis took the lower level art class for a requirement. Like most things, he's not taking it very seriously. For their pop art unit, he's painting a portrait of the art teacher with a warthog face. It's one of his funny disruptions. He knows Mrs. Stanley is going to have a real field day with it, but it doesn't matter. Artistic liberties, he’d profess. “She's such a bitch, isn't she?” The sophomore girl turns to her compatriot, who only nods in response. “She's just jealous,” Davis says. “It must be depressing to teach art and see the youth soar above her.” “For sure,” the girl doesn't get it. Class clown is a semi-heavy burden. Davis doesn't really feel like talking to these girls, but his position demands it. Comedy informs everything about him. To the giant thrift store jeans, to the loud Hawaiian shirt. He and James are the ultimate combination, at least he likes to think so. Quiet brooding begs for bright distraction. The girl is still trying to talk to him and Davis is saying his preprogrammed lines. The bus stops in front of James’s street. Surprisingly, James is standing there. “Like I’m this close to just filling my hydroflask with vodka, yaknow?” says the chick. Maybe she's just trying to get a rise out of him. “Better be prepared to give me more than a sip,” Davis is watching James grumble towards the bus. The sun is beating down on the forming ice puddles. James stomps through them with small shattering steps. James turns up the bus aisle and plops in the seat next to Davis. Davis’s smile is genuine now, but he fights it from getting too wide. “Crash your vehicle?” Davis asks. “Something like it,” there's something off with him. Davis doesn't want to push it. “Well damn, hope insurance covers it,” Davis wants James to break and laugh. Is it just another mood or did something actually happen this time? “It won't, I got bad credit,” James grins and it's like heaven. “What's the move for you today?” “Surviving art and physics for me,” says Davis. “Those bastards love to keep me down.” “Who doesn't,” James eyes the girls who have since returned to whatever they were doing before. It's the judgement stare, as Davis calls it. James likes to observe his peers like a zoo-goer. Breaking them down to taxonomic types. Davis likes to think that James doesn't do this to him, but he knows he probably does. “It sucks you decided to be bad at school and take baby art,” James is still dissecting the sophomore girls down to their tropes. “We could have done Art II together.” “I wouldn't want to get between you and Alex. I know how you love it when people piss in jars next to you.” “That's disgusting,” James breaks his glare at the girls. “It's performance art, it's beautiful,” Davis gets up out of his seat to yell. “Everyone witness the wonderful work of Alex Madov! Disengage yourself from the shackles of capitalism by shouting with me: Poopy, pee pee, poop!” Davis gets a few chuckles from the other kids on the bus. “Sit down, fatso,” mumbles the bus driver. “I will not be silenced! I’m a messenger of the good word, sir!” “More of this shit and I’m skipping your stop!” “Fine, but I will make Alex remember on the day of judgement,” Davis sits back down. James is full belly laughing. “You're so retarded,” James wheezes. Davis can't even come back with a response. He's high off of it.
The bus pulls into the school lot with a short stop. The mobs get up and begin to race out. Davis follows James down the line. “You know Abbi?” James asks. Davis feels a little pit form in his stomach, but he doesn't change his expression. “Vaguely, what about her?” “She's in my art class,” James begins. “And I think … well you know, I’m going to talk to her.” He walks down the steps and out the door. “Doesn't she have a boyfr-” before Davis can descend the driver's arm blocks him. “I’ve had enough of your shit, kid,” he says. “If you keep being obnoxious, I’m gonna find a way to make you pay for it.” James looks back, but he can't stay. Davis knows that he's gotta get to class. James does a little wave goodbye and Davis salutes him. “Are you even listening to me?” the bus driver seethes. “Yes, sir. Divine retribution, got it.” Davis ducks underneath his arm and exits the bus. James has already disappeared into the crowd.
I pass the bong to Ashley. She starts another bowl. She’s the transport and I provide the material. The little things that keep our friendship afloat. I look at the clock in her car. “It's 8:45,” I pick a piece of bagel out of my teeth. “So that's it, we officially missed first period,” Ashley tops it off. “They won't mark us, you know. It's a study.” “Yeah, but when's the last time we signed in? I heard they're changing the policy again. Do you still have the lighter?” I toss it to her. I don't get it. It's always her idea to pick me up so we can smoke before school, why now is she suddenly caring about attendance? “We're pretty girls, we can get out of it. I’m next,” I tap on the clock. “Are you sure it's not fast?” She shakes her head as she takes a snap. We're parked in the pond area a block or two from the school. It's our designated smoking spot. I like it, even at the end of fall it's pretty. I’m so engrossed that I don't realize her tip out the bowl and put it back in the cup holder. “I don't know if it's wise to keep up the activity, we should probably get going soon,” she starts up her car again. “Okay,” I say. She reverses and swings out of the lot. We lean into the silence and it's super weird. “Seth texted me last night,” I wait for her reaction. “Oh,” she grimaces. “What did you say?” “That I loved him.” Silence again. Ashley's trying to put together something well-meaning while understanding that I’ll probably ignore whatever she has to say. “Abbi, I’m not trying to tell you how to run your life, but …” Her expression is now quizzical. She's said what she is about to say a number of different ways all ready. She thinks and thinks and decides to say nothing. Good call, I would have screamed at her. Not because what she thinks about my situation isn't true, I’m just in a ‘screaming at people mood’ because of it. “I’m going to dye my hair again,” she changes the subject to avoid conflict. Classic Ash. “Oh yeah? What color this time?” “I don't know,” she checks her reflection in the rear view. “The red has faded out, maybe blue or pink this time.” “You should go with a softer pink,” I say. “Since you're a soft spring.” “Yeah, maybe.” We enter the school lot. “Listen, do you want to get together when I do it? Maybe you can dye your hair too.” “I don't know, I might be busy,” I say. “Seth might want to do something,” I pause for her to protest. “Okay,” she says. She parks and we get out.
I barrel into art class. I don't care if I reek, out of all the teachers I can tell Mrs. Stanley smokes the most. It would be hypocritical of her to care. It looks like I’m the first one. Weird. I check my phone. It's 8:45. Well, fuck. Looks like Ashley needs to fix her clock. Mrs. Stanley is at her desk. She looks at me knowingly. “Eager to create today, Abbi?” I just nod and sit at my desk. I’m really feeling it. I open up my precalc notebook and just start sketching. Birds, eyes, trees, whatever. Kids start coming in. Their chatter echoes around me, I try to focus on what I’m doing. Someone bumps into my table. I look up. It's this lanky blonde kid, I think his name is James. He presses his hands underneath the desk as he leans up to talk to me. “Eww!” He shouts. Some kids turn and laugh. I don't. I just stare at him. James goes red and sits next to the kid who pissed in a jar. Once an adequate amount of students are in the room, Mrs. Stanley starts her lesson slideshow. On the screen is a dirty urinal. “How many of you are familiar with this work by Marcel DuChamp?” she asks. At this point, Jason, the designated meathead jock, enters the room. “Sorry I’m late, Mrs. S,” he booms. He looks at the slide. “We building bathrooms today?” Mrs. Stanley glares at him. “Wouldn't you like that? Considering you spend all of your time in there.” “Whatever,” Jason brushes his mullet behind his ears. “No, not whatever. Would you like me to move you into the sophomore class with Davis? Believe it or not he's getting much better marks than you are getting in here.” Jason rolls his eyes and takes his place in the chair next to me. “Up to a little extra curricular activities before art, Abbi?” he motions a joint in his fingers. I scoff and go on my phone. There's another text from Seth.
sorry about last night
and
im reading it all right now that was fucked im sorry
I start to respond, but before I can Mrs. Stanley outstretches her hand. “Give me your phone, Miss Hagerty. I’m sick of giving you warnings.” I don't have the energy to fight, I just give it to her. “You can pick it up at the end of the day.” My jaw actually drops. Jason must have really set her off, she's not usually such a cunt to me. “Anyways, found art. What is it? Well, found art is the use of everyday objects to convey an altered meaning. It can be something you find on the street or something that once held value to you. For example, My Bed by Tracey Elim.” She pulls up a picture of a messy bed that looks suspiciously like my own. “So for your final unit of the semester, you will be making your own found art. I really want you to take this project a little more seriously than most of you have been taking this class. I’m giving you the privilege of picking your own partners, but I’d like to remind you to be thoughtful with your choice. This will be worth more for your grade.” I look around. I don't have any friends here. I toy around with the idea of asking Jason for convenience and he looks like he's about to pull that move. Behind me there's that James guy. He’s sheepishly looking at me. He seems kind of nice. Okay. I don't feel like getting up so I just turn around in my chair. “Hey James, wanna be partners?” He balks a bit and then smiles at me. “Yeah, totally,” He's beaming and it's somewhat endearing. Alex and I switch seats and now I’m next to him. “I’m gonna be real with you …” I begin. He stops and shifts a little. “I have no idea what we're supposed to be doing for this.” He regards me oddly. Like he's trying to piece me together. It doesn't bother me. “She said we have to bring in an object that's special to us and present it artistically basically,” he rubs his chin. Damn, I must be baked to hell. I didn't hear her saying that at all. “So got any stuffed animals we can cut up and make Lovecraftian monstrosities out of?” “I got a hamster cage, hold the hamster,” I say. It comes out kind of weird and I probably sound stupid, but he doesn't seem to care. “Let's make a fucking zoo.” “Perfect!” He’s kind of cute actually. In a way. Something about this feels fun. I realize the bell will ring soon. “So um,” I rip out a page of my precalc notebook, still fresh with my drawings. I scrawl out my number and push it to him. “Call me so we can figure out the project some more.” I pack up all my stuff and start to head out. I can feel him watching me and it's not that bad. “I sure will,” he says. Everything feels really groovy. There's a lightness now. I’m halfway out the door when I remember my phone. I can't believe that I just forgot about Seth. I think about begging for my phone, but I feel too above that. Still, something shakes the good feeling as the bell rings.