My grandmother (father’s mother) has just passed. She lived in another country. I found out from a family member (Kelly) I never knew I had...
My grandmother and I were in contact very often. Spoke every other week. I travelled with her a lot growing up. This hurt a lot because I was planning to go to see her this summer and her passing was a surprise.
My father and I are estranged and have not spoken in 15+years. My grandma was the only person on my father’s side of the family I spoke to.
Kelly has been kind and kept me abreast of funeral details and more and I appreciate it a lot because I otherwise would not know.
Kelly reached out to me for financial help with her personal expenses for flights etc to the funeral. Although I have never met her, I was actually planning to bring her gifts as a token of my appreciation for including me and keeping me abreast.
Should I cover her expenses and not even blink about this? I need perspective from strangers. I cannot speak to family about this. They would not understand and quickly claim she’s a scam artist.
Thanks in advance…

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
He was back at Smiley’s taproom with a petite brunette dangling from his arm, the young signal operator whose acquaintance he’d made while assigned as a liaison officer with the Exploratory Corps. There he was, all big and stiff in his brand-new dress uniform, trying desperately to impress someone who was astronomically more attractive than him and making a priceless ass of himself.
“So,” she purred, eyeing him over the rim of her glass, “Tell me again about the surface. What’s it like wandering up there above all us wee mortals?”
“Erm,” Rene cleared his throat, feeling a hot flush creeping up his reddening neck, “It’s, uh, quite remarkable really. Simply fantastic.”
Having run out of things to say, Rene took a snootful of his drink in an attempt to sharpen his wits. It was so hard to focus with her hanging onto his every word like this.
“Ooh, you make it sound so exciting,” Deborah had tittered. Or was it Devorah? Her name had gotten lost in the fumes of fermented honeydew clouding up his brain. Perhaps another sip would jog his memory. Rene downed the horrid swill and coughed as it burned its way down his throat and up his nostrils.
“Would you look at the state of him!” someone guffawed, slapping Rene on the back, “Cool as cucumbers under fire when there’s a hundred dirty Amits breathing down our necks, but prop him up next to a lass and he goes completely to pieces.”
“Ah, piss off,” Rene said fondly. He turned to see Lethway sitting next to him flanked by two buxom blondes, an Amit axe buried deep in his neck.
“I’m only saying. You’ve got to keep your head on your shoulders, man,” Lethway said, as his own tumbled off sideways and hung on by a flap of gristle, “We’ve got a long night ahead of us with our fine lady friends here. It wouldn’t do for you to be sleeping on the job.’
“Why, Lethie my dearest. I’m sure Mr. Louvoture has the…stamina…to keep up,” the brunette said demurely, batting her eyelids at Rene, “Go on. You were telling me about how amazing it is up there.”
“Yes,” Rene puffed out his cheeks and marshalled his scattered thoughts, “It’s like this, see…how can I put it? Words can hardy do it justice.”
“Try me,” Deborah/Devorah said, tugging at his arm with her warm hands. The girl was practically throwing herself at him no matter how badly he was fumbling the ball. Rene my lad, if you don’t make it tonight you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life, Rene thought to himself.
“Alrighty then,” Rene said, deciding to risk everything by gaze deep into her eyes, which if the romance novels were to be believed, were windows into a woman’s soul. She had very pretty irises, all velvety and shining with something bordering on hero-worship.
“When you’re topside and the suns go down beyond the hills, and the clouds weep tears of crimson as the sky rolls over into a bowl of stars holding all the universe above you, it feels like…like…” Rene trailed off.
“What?” she whispered into the hush that had settled over the bar.
“Well, it feels a little like this,” Rene said softly, leaning in for a kiss. Her lips tasted his, the tip of her tongue quivering with longing. She drew him into her embrace, gripping him around the waist and pressing into him.
Awfully forward, these girls from Mound Sierra, Rene thought with some alarm. Not that he was complaining. They spent an eternity entwined like this, the whole taproom cheering and egging them on.
“Woof!” Rene broke away to catch his breath, “Is it me, or is it getting hard to breathe in here?”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” Devorah/Deborah said impatiently, wrapping a leg around his and holding him tight. Rene put a hand on her thigh and found that she was surprisingly hairy for a girl. Feeling a little repulsed at this he tried to peel himself away, but found that he couldn’t move any of his limbs.
“Mmph. Hmmgh!” he mumbled, his voice muffled by her insistent mouth. He cocked an eyebrow over her shoulder at Lethway, who’d just propped his head back up onto its stump.
“Cheers, big fellow!” Lethway tipped a glass in his direction and downed his glass in one gulp, the drink trickling out of him through a large bullet hole in his chest.
“I hate it when that happens,” Lethway said, staring sadly at it. He looked back up at Rene and said: “Oy! What did I tell you about falling asleep on the job. Isn’t it about time you got moving, trooper?”
“Not yet,” Devorah/Deborah sighed, kissing his neck, “First he has to tell me how much he likes my eyes. You do like my eyes, don’t you?”
“Why, of course darling—” Rene began. But then she pulled back to look him in face, and the words curdled and died on his lips.
Gone was the petite brunette in her oh-so-short skirt, replaced by a furry, many-eyed freak with quivering mouthparts. In an instant Smiley’s taproom was torn away to reveal the awful truth of his current circumstances: he was hanging upside down from a tree and caught in monster’s deadly embrace. He was trussed up by his legs which had gone completely numb, and his wrists were bound together by loops of silk that felt as strong as steel chains. Yelling incoherently, Rene started wriggling like a worm on a hook. The creature tightened its hold and pressed its fangs against his throat, delicately avoiding piercing the skin while looking at him through its row of eyes.
It was a warning. Rene wisely heeded it and stopped struggling. After a long moment the monster let him go, although they both continued to dangle upside down. Rene stared at its face in horrid fascination. He saw now that it had four eyes on its flat, squarish face, the centermost pair dwarfing the two ancillary ones on either side of them. In the place of a lower jaw it had four vertical mouthparts, the shorter ones in the middle tipped with curved fangs while the rest functioned like antennae, moving constantly with little taps and clicks, its grotesque head nodding along with them.
Rene thought the motion was reminiscent of a person’s lips as they mumbled, and he had a disturbing suspicion that the monster was trying to talk to him. The fact that he was still alive also lent credence to this theory. After all, if Amits were intelligent lifeforms, why couldn’t this one be as well? Hoping against hope, he stammered out:
“I—I don’t understand. I’m afraid I can’t speak your language. Haven’t got the equipment for it. See?”
Rene bared his teeth at it in a forced smile, tying show it what he meant. But the monster recoiled from him, pushing off the trunk behind him and leaping back some twenty meters away from him. It alighted on a tangle of creeper vines and hung there in all its awful majesty, eyeing Rene through its four unblinking orbs. It had ten appendages including its stubby antennae, each of them ending in a three-clawed hand. Its shoulder and thigh muscles were enormous, though its potbellied torso was as round as a wagon wheel, sporting a disgusting hump of flesh on its back. No doubt it contained even more musculature to support its powerful limbs, which at the moment were bunched up and ready to spring.
He had startled it, Rene realized. His own mouth was probably just as alien and repulsive to its sensibilities as its physiology was to him. Before he could derive some small satisfaction from that, more of the monsters emerged to join the first, darting out of the shadows with an unnatural, jittery motion. They moved in stops and starts, periods of immobility interrupted by burst of blinding speed, here one moment and gone the next.
“It shpeaksh…” Rene heard someone say in a voice somewhere between a dry croak and the gurgling of a water pipe. Rene looked around for the source of the voice and was shocked to find that it was issuing from the largest monster, the one reclining on the vines like some misshapen ape. He couldn’t believe his own ears. It was speaking Fleet cantish, mangling its way through the words somehow despite the total absence of a jawbone.
“Gallivant?” another queried with clearer pronunciation.
“No blade-wing, thish,” the leader clicked its palps thoughtfully, “Too shoft. Too schtupid. Came from the fire giant. Dropped a sheed pod, it did, like a tree in the wind. The sheed shpun a web and floated. Down, down, down.”
“Shoft like a grub,” agreed the smallest monster somewhat belatedly. A frothy substance with the consistency of saliva dripped from its fangs. It took a step towards Rene, stiffening all over. Before he could even blink it had launched itself through the air directly at him. In the same instant the leader also leapt, slamming bodily into its subordinate and throwing it to the ground.
“No,” the leader rasped, letting the other monster limp away having been suitably chastised, “Questions firshht. The fire giant. Are you itsh hatchling?”
It was staring at Rene when it said this. Rene thought quickly. It was a binary question and he felt that his life hung in the balance, the odds being even either way. Heads or tails? From what he’d heard it was clear that the only thing keeping him from lining the stomachs of these monsters was their abiding curiosity. They had witnessed the Divine Engine and his impromptu ejection from it, and they were under the impression that it had been a living thing and that he was its offspring. It followed that the best thing to do was to maintain their interest in him for as long as possible while he thought of an escape plan. Heads it was, then. Rene said:
“Yes. Yes, I am its ‘hatchling’.”
He glanced around until he found his sword where he had left it leaning against the buttress root, still in its sheathe next to the survival kit. If he could just reach down and grasp it in his hands…
“Good,” said the abomination, “And know you the secret of itsh power?”
“Of course,” Rene said, slowly and surreptitiously stretching out his arms, reaching for the sword hilt with all his might.
“Good, good,” the abomination crooned. There was a blur of motion and the leader materialized in front of him, their faces inches apart. It seized him by the hairs and yanked him close.
“Then I, too, will know its inner workingshh. Once I open your head and drink deep from your mind.”
Should have gone with tails, Rene thought as it lunged for him.
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

Hi! I've been on an odyssey of metal discovery for the last few months. I'm not new to all metal, I got into nu-metal as a teen (showing my age here) and I found a few bands that I fell in love with along the way (Tool, Rammstein, and Volbeat for example) but I never listened to anything older, and I found that I just didn't enjoy the sound of more modern metal bands, so I just assumed I wasn't really a metalhead.
Weirdly, what got me exploring more metal was a random YouTube recommended video by Bradley Hall, where he does what 60 famous bands sound like to those who don't like them (recommended video btw, his impressions of Pink Floyd, the Beatles, and Blink 182 had me in stitches).
But I thought, I only know a handful of these bands, and the ones I was familiar with (like Metallica) I'd never actually listened to. So I set about listening to a lot of the bands he featured in the video, and went from there, learning all about metal subgenres, waves of metal and pioneering bands, and I feel like I discovered this whole new world that was under my nose this whole time.
My favourite subgenres (and bands) so far are heavy metal (Judas Priest - how have I never listened to Judas Priest?! Absolute favourite so far) and thrash, specifically 80s thrash (Slayer are my favourite, but found some amazing Megadeth and Metallica tracks).
My best friend is into black metal, and as soon as she knew I was looking into metal she spammed me with black metal recommendations. I wouldn't say that I'm nuts about black metal but I've learned to appreciate it on a certain level. Mostly, the history and subculture of black metal are what I find fascinating, and I've watched a few documentaries (about THAT band). Then I learned about first wave black metal, and I found I prefer that. (Early) Bathory are amazing, I listened to three albums straight by them the other night. For the later stuff, I found symphonic black metal (Dimmu Borgir) and folk black metal (Moonsorrow) pretty good.
Then, I discovered doom metal, which was pretty good but then I found epic doom metal like Crypt Sermon, which is really amazing stuff. I think I've played Key of Solomon by Crypt Sermon about 30 times in the last month.
So, finding all of this amazing music, both old and modern, made me think about the mainstream metal that I always hear about and tried to get into through the 2000s and 2010s but just couldn't get on with. Bands like Killswitch Engage, Trivium, Avenged Sevenfold, Lamb of God, all these kinds of bands, they tend to employ certain techniques, vocal styles, riff patterns etc that don't do much for me and I'm trying to figure out if there's a commonality, like are they the same genre? Or related genres? I keep hearing the terms "metalcore" and "new wave of American heavy metal" but I don't know if either of those apply to the specific trend of sound that puts me off. At first I just thought maybe I'm an old fart that only likes old music, but a lot of the stuff I've got into like Crypt Sermon, Phantom, Traveler, Hellripper, Mastodon (and even Ghost, but let's not open the Ghost can of worms lol) are modern bands. I'm not a fan of death metal style vocals, but I've learned to like the scratchier shrieking vocals of black metal (though some are a bit too high pitched and make me think of Gollum).
Anyway, just thought I'd share my thoughts, and if any recommendations come to mind, feel free to comment them!
My four best discoveries so far? Judas Priest, Slayer, Crypt Sermon, and Bathory.

original setting by Michael McNeill
Myrla sat at one of the tables in the food court area of Nantrella Station. The Greylin’s crew had discovered several ships docked with family members on board and this had led to a rather impressively large impromptu family reunion with several dozen kwonese spacers gathered up in one space.
She was sitting slouched over the table, the only human in a sea of furry ratfolk, nursing her drink. It was a chocaf that one of the family from another ship had spiked with something s/he said was an intoxicant that she would enjoy. Myrla wasn’t sure if it was intoxicating, but it did add a pleasant richness to the drink and it warmed her in a way chocaf didn’t normally do.
She was reaching the end of her drink and was starting to wonder if she should try to find the kwonese who had spiked her drink to ask for a second round when she realized some of her crewmates nearby were talking about her. She hadn’t been listening, really, her mind just floating along in the comfortable feel of the “group-snuggle” as they called it, so she wasn’t sure what was going on.
After a few seconds of focusing on the conversation, she realized they were bragging about her. That was when one of them turned to her, dragging her into the conversation.
“Yah, see! This Myrla, she top stevedore, better than ya porter drone!” Nellin, one of the crew-family she had little interaction with other than when it was time to hustle cargo, had grabbed her by the sleeve and was tugging her into a small cluster of kwonese sitting around one of the tables. She only recognized one other face as being part of the Greylin crew. Nellin served as the ship’s load-master and chief stevedore, so she assumed the others in the group likely held similar positions on their own ships.
Myrla hoisted her cup in greeting, a lopsided smile on her face. Then she realized she did know another of the faces in the group – the cousin who had spiked her chocaf. Grinning, she pulled her arm free of Nellin’s grip and pointed to him then to her almost empty cup. “I’m going to need some more of that, cousin.”
This set off titters of laughter around the crew as the kwonese in question hauled out a silver flask from his vest pocket. “Powerful stuff, yah!” He made smacking sounds as he fixed her another chocaf from the table’s dispenser. “Makin’ it on the Yeongja, we do. Best you find.”
She drained her first cup and picked up the second. If it was an intoxicant, it was either incredibly weak or it was so smooth that it would hit her like a sledgehammer later. Either way, it was a delightful pairing with the bitterness of the chocaf. She took a sip of the fresh drink, smiling as the warmth seeped into her. The group shuffled around to make a spot for her to sit.
One of the others, a grizzled older kwonese, looked at her one eyebrow raised. “Nellin say you top stevedore. Say you outwork drone. Been load-master on Yeongja ten year and four more now on /San Matteo/. Not seeing that happen yet.”
She looked over Nellin and raised her cup in his direction. “[Samchun ]()[[MM1]](#_msocom_1) has never voiced displeasure with my work. If he wishes to say I work harder than a cargo drone, that is his choice.”
Her comment brought hoots of laughter from around the table. Out-bragging in a family was something of a sport with the kwonese and diplomatically saying they were boasting without calling them a liar was an integral part of the game, even better if you were doing so in support of them.
“Well-saying, [olinee]()[[MM2]](#_msocom_2) .” The grizzled cargo-chief crinkled his snout and raised his glass at her. “But now chincheog making me curious. Never seeing such a thing not being the same as impossible thing.” He paused to scratch his whiskers. “Not working much with your kind, true, so never seeing how much you can do.” Several of the group lightly slapped the tabletop and looked in her direction.
She glanced down at Nellin, seeing his whiskers twitching. His body language was just like it would be if they were playing cards and he were holding a winning hand, waiting on the pool to grow. Long seconds passed before the one she’d mentally dubbed “Mister Flask” leaned in.
“Let’s make it interesting.”
And there it was. Cred-chips started hitting the table and in moments, crew from all the ships were aware of the betting taking place. She sat, sipping her doctored chocaf, as the kwonese around her seemed to turn into a boiling pool of sleek fur and whiskers. Across the table, “Mister Flask” raised his cup to her … and winked.
She grinned back at him, returning the gesture. Now what was that all about?
One of the twins – probably Mikkeulon, from the scent – saw the exchange and leaned close to her. “Oh-ho! You catching Peulla’s eye, then! Good choice, but he wild.”
Myrla sputtered into her cup, but before she could say anything, the twin was gone. Then Nellin leaned in close. “You got this, girlee. Seen you move more easy. Just be going slow and easy and Greylin family got drinks for all station-time, ya.”
Myrla smiled to herself, shaking her head. The cargo-master may have said the Greylin’s crew would have all their drinks covered during their port-time, but given the kwonese need for these family get-togethers, “hajog-poog” they called them, every kwonese on the station would be regular visitors to the Greylin. The betting was just the method they used to pick which ship the party was held on.

It wasn’t long before the entire party had relocated to the docks where San Matteo was set to disgorge its cargo. The grizzled cargo-master, who Myrla now knew to be named Tostiklin, had one of the enormous cargo bays set up for the impromptu competition. She’d sent Orak off to the /Greylin/ to retrieve her backpack, leading to a humorous scene as the young kwonese came running into the docking area dragging the pack that was easily as large as he was. She stripped away the actual pack and her possessions that it held, leaving just the pack-frame. She tasked Orak with perching on the pack itself, to make sure it didn’t get lost in the excitement.
She walked over to the small cluster of cargo-masters and hefted her packframe. “I assume I’m allowed to use a cargo rack, since the drone has one?” She watched as several of them suppressed snickers and Tostiklin wrinkled his snout in amusement.
He waved absently. “Yahyey, of course! Wanting a fair run, we.” He motioned the cargo drone over, which stood almost twice as tall as its crewmates. The crowd settled down to a low murmur as the cargo master addressed the two. “This being the rules. Moving cargo for one minute, as much as you can, ya. No helping from others. No interfering with other stevedore. Move you stack from where it is to indicated position.” He pointed to a pair of chalked squares some thirty feet away from the initial stacks. “Is good?”
The drone’s head rotated from the kwonese to Myrla to the two stacks of cargo containers and back. “I to compete against this gentlebeing? Moving cargo like normal work?”
“Yes, Ledo.”
The drone dipped its head. “Understood but I do not understand why.”
Myrla leaned close to the drone. “They gambling on us. Who can shift more.”
The drone tipped its expressionless face first to one side then to the other while looking at her, a low whir of servos barely audible. Then it looked toward the group of kwonese for a moment. “Oh. Oh. Then … perhaps I should apologize now?”
Myrla grinned. “Apologize for what?”
“I am made to shift significant amounts of cargo. You do not appear to be. I shall apologize now for embarrassing you in front of your shipmates.”
Myrla laughed and patted the drone on its arm. “It’s all in fun, Ledo. I won’t be embarrassed.”
She could detect a faint note of smugness in the mechanical’s speech. “Very well. Then let us proceed.”
“Geebees, are clear on rules?” Myrla and Ledo both indicated their assent. “Then please stand by cargo.”
When they had taken their places, Tostiklin pulled a whistle from his pocket and blew on it. Myrla and Ledo began quickly assembling their loads. Remembering Nellin’s admonition, she carefully restricted her load, adding two containers more to hers than the drone loaded onto itself. It was enough weight to slow her down considerably, but she could still keep up with Ledo without straining.
Together, they dropped their cargo loads inside their assigned squares and Myrla fought the urge to race ahead of the drone, keeping pace with it instead. Twice more the cycle repeated itself, with Myrla carrying just enough extra to stay ahead in the count.
When the whistle blew a second time, the gathered cargo-masters counted the crates in each stack. Tostiklin’s face was a study in surprise as he counted Myrla’s stack again.
He looked at Nellin. “Your stevedore has clearly won. By a mere six crates, but she has won.” The kwonese erupted into cheers and groans, depending on the amount of credits they had won or lost. Tostiklin held up a hand and the crowd quieted down. “But you say she outwork drone. Win by six is much as keep up with drone.”
The crowd inhaled as a whole. /San Matteo/’s cargo chief was treading the fine line of being rude, almost accusing Nellin of lying. The older kwonese narrowed his eyes, looking for at Nellin, then Myrla, then at the crowd. “I like very much to be seeing her truly outwork drone. What is prize money?” One of the younger cargo-masters gave him the figure. “I say offering own creds to match that, double or nothing.”
The crowd went wild, the line of propriety saved. Myrla doubted Nellin had that sort of funds available, based on his change in body language. From behind her, she heard a female kwonese start chanting, “Match! Match!” She and Nellin turned to look, seeing Captain Wanniv shaking her fist in the air. In seconds, all the /Greylin/’s crew was chanting with her.
“Match! Match! Match!”
Nellin looked at her, his nervousness evident, even though things were going exactly like he’d told her they would. She winked at him and gave him a quick nod.
His bearing changed imperceptibly as he turned back to Tostiklin. “Yahyey, chincheog. You be seeing truth.”
Ban Baekui had sidled up beside her, patting her arm. “Time be taking off the governor, ya.”
She nodded absently, her gaze wandering around the room, watching as dozens of groupings indicated the level of betting taking place. “Got your bets made, chief?”
“Already making creds plenty. This to be sheer kwaja!”
She looked down at him, grinning. “The captain plays cards with Nellin, doesn’t she?”
Ban gave her a curious tilt of his head. “Frequently. Why you ask?”
Myrla nodded to herself, looking around again. “She backed him up at the perfect time. This gonna bring some notoriety to the Greylin. And that converts to …” She looked back at the ship’s lead mechanic, grinning broadly.
“Jobs. Bigger and better.” Ban nodded, grinning back. “Not playing cards with you, girlee. Best getting ready, then.”
Ban faded back into the crowd, leaving her with Nellin. “You good with this? Tossi want longer timeframe for this.”
Myrla dropped to one knee, making it so she had to look up slightly at the cargo master. “I need some advice, chief.” Nellin blinked in surprise at the abrupt change in the situation. When he signaled his assent, she continued. “There’s more going on than what I’m seeing. You just used a blood-kin name for him. The captain backed you up publicly under his challenge, so she’s now tied the two of you together, your win is now her win, and your loss her loss. Tostiklin almost called you a liar in front of everyone, but pulled it out by upping the bet.” She scanned the crowd, seeing several non-kwonese beginning to intermingle. “And that is interesting. More geebees are joining the party. And those aren’t spacers.” Her eyes narrowed. “Those are brokers – I recognize two of them.”
Nellin wrung his hands, a faint tang of nervousness coloring his odor. “Is … is complicated.”
“Not from my end, chief. Tostiklin wants to see how hard I can work, because he wants to learn more about my people and is willing to pay for the privilege. And he wants to see me lose to gloat…” She looked at Nellin as he started squirming again. “He doesn’t want me to lose.” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Who is he related to by blood on the Greylin?”
“He brother to captain’s father…” Myrla’s eyes lit up in sudden understanding. “…and is brother to my mother’s mother.”
Myrla’s jaw dropped slightly as several puzzle pieces clicked into place. “He … he doesn’t want us to fail at all. He’s loaning the captain operating money as well as boosting the ship’s reputation.”
Nellin put his hands out to shush her. “Not be saying this!”
The good side of her mouth pulled up in a smile. “Don’t worry, not a word. Plus, by challenging you like this, you gain even more credibility with the family after I smoke that presumptuous cargo drone at his own game. You gain a reputation for understating how good something is.”
“See … is complicated.”
“Chief, go make your personal bets. This run is about to get interesting.”
The next ten minutes was a flurry of action as bets were made and new spectators arrived from stationside. At one point, Peulla drifted by, pressing another cup of that deliciously spiked chocaf into her hand with a wink. Soon, the cargo masters were huddled up again.
Tostiklin had found a voice amplifier somewhere, letting his voice be heard over the noises of the much-larger crowd. “We be setting round two. Nellin, loadmaster of the Greylin Bostlin, say he crewmate outwork cargo drone. We see earlier this geebee do that.” He indicated Myrla and she waved at the crowd, to delighted cheers from more than just her shipmates. “I say she barely beat cargo drone and I ask for a rematch. I offer double to see she truly outwork drone!” The crowd roared excitedly. “I ask to see geebee outwork drone and just minutes not enough. I ask for one whole hour!”
The crowd erupted into a frenzy and Myrla blinked in confusion. Nobody mentioned hauling cargo for an hour, she thought.
Captain Wanniv had slipped up beside her. “Just another day on the docks, ya?”
Turning to the captain with a smile, she said, “Using my own words against me as inspiration? I’m … well, I don’t guess I’m shocked. And yes, I’m good for it.”
“Is good. All this good.”
Myrla gave the captain a wink. “I love how they brought in some of the local cargo brokers and the Dockworker’s Guild to watch. San Matteo is a respected crew. To see them give the Greylin respect will carry weight later.”
The captain’s eyes crinkled. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Finally, the crowd calmed down again. Siezing the moment, Myrla stepped forward to address the Matteo’s cargo-master. “Samchun, it seems to me that all of our competition is being done handling cargo from the San Matteo. If we are unloading cargo, then am I working for you? And, if I am working, then as a member of the Stevedore and Dockworker’s Guild, I have to be paid or I lose my license. And I cannot bet on myself.”
The crowd fell to a dead silence as Tostiklin’s eyebrows rose slowly, first one then the other.
“FAIR!” Someone in the crowd shouted.
Tostiklin glanced in the direction of the speaker and turned back to Myrla, nodding slowly. “Wisdom speaks.” A grin slowly spread across his face. “I will pay you one hour with a bonus in proportional to how well you outwork the drone.”
Myrla nodded. “I accept these terms and your grace in offering them.” This brought a round of applause from the crowd.
“Again! This being the rules! Moving cargo for one hour, as much as you can, ya. No helping from others. No interfering with other stevedore. Move you stack from where it is to indicated platform.” He pointed to a pair of conveyor platforms some thirty feet away from the initial stacks. “Is good?”
Both workers gave their assent.
“Geebees, to your starting places!” Again, a blast from the whistle signaled the start of the competition. Both fell to their task and worked steadily, but Myrla thought it looked as though the drone knew it had already been beaten. For every stack of crates it moved, she moved twice as many. When it tried to match her volume, its speed dropped off significantly to the sound of overloaded drive motors.
They were well and thoroughly inside the cargo bay of the /San Matteo/ and the crowd was only able to keep up by watching on a series of holoscreens that had been set up for the purpose. True to Bae’s request, she “pulled the governors off,” falling into her work-trance, letting the crates guide her flow. The conveyor platforms advanced with them, never more than thirty feet away, making the job a bit less arduous. The cargo-master group was inside with them, as well, and Myrla shut them out by treating them like she did any other client who hung out to watch her work.
She was so deep into her work that the whistle caught her by surprise and Nellin had to physically intervene to get her attention.
“Is good, girlee. We done it. YOU done it.”
Myrla walked out of the cargo hold, blinking and shaking her head, trying to get refocused on where she was. Then she realized the entire hajog was chanting her name. Bae and Wanniv were waiting on her at the bay-door. Bae handed her a bottle of water and Wanniv grabbed Myrla’s free hand in both of hers. “You best lucky charm!” As the crowd caught sight of her, the chant broke into a wordless cheer that threatened to overwhelm her.
Finally, the cargo-masters made their counts and conferred together with a lot of nodding and one shaking their head incredulously. Tostiklin motioned her and the cargo drone forward to join them.
“Thinking it clear who wins.” He broke off with a grin as the crowd erupted into cheers again. He tried to continue twice before the cheering died down enough to let him be heard. “Seeing you never slowed down, girlee. Thinking maybe you having another gear or two.”
Smiling, Myrla shrugged as the crowd went wild again.
“And!” He held up a pouch for everyone to see. “And, here is your payment. One hour’s wage for a class five stevedore. And since you performed double what the drone performed, your wages are doubled.”
Again, the crowd roared and she fought to keep the surprise off her face. She was a class one stevedore and class five rates were significantly higher than she was used to getting. As she accepted the pouch from him, she leaned in to be heard above the crowd. “You are a wise and honorable gentlebeing, Samchun. May your words echo among many gajog.”
That got her an extra cheer from the cargo-chiefs and a pat on the cheek from a grinning Tostiklin. “You taking good-good care of the Greylin crew, then. So, let’s be drinking to this!”

I keep running into an issue where I place the pod in, lock the machine, press the button to brew, but then the light turns into a blinking red light. Sometimes it sounds like it’s struggling. Other times, the machine is silent. Usually when this happens, I unplug the machine for a few seconds, turn it back on, and it’s good. It’s a very annoying workaround, but it is what is. This morning, however, that didn’t work. I wasted 2 perfectly good pods to no avail.
I’m familiar with the consensus of this machine on this sub, hence why I’ve gone the extra mile to take care of it with regular maintenance (e.g., rinse cycles, descaling).
Any suggestions to fix this issue? Am I alone with this particular issue? Just wanted my espresso, man. 😓

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

As If It Were Kismet Ch. 5
Following Vicky into the hall off to their first class was simple. She exchanged small talk and he slightly smiled as if to obviously suggest he was just being polite.
Inside his head, Matt was trying to figure out if he was having a psychotic break. The way Vicky looked kept changing and he looked at the other people around him and they stayed the same.
He was searching his mind as they were walking. And thus he wasn’t paying attention to where he was looking and so fell to his face forward over his feet seemingly out of nowhere.
A series of laughs erupted as it sunk in that he was obviously tripped. Like in prison this was a challenge to his superiority. If he let this pass he would be mocked and sneered at by this same group of boys. He wouldn’t walk to them like he was going to do nothing like a little bitch.
In a rage he turned and punched the stomach of the first face he saw. Some typical blonde haired wannabe jock. He knew from experience not to aim for the ribs. Instead he needed to aim for where he thought the belly button was.
Yells and screams blindly echoed around him as his after the punch he followed up his elbow of the opposite arm slamming into the face of the jock. Harder than a fist, the elbow struck the jock’s jaw and seemingly dropped him against a locker. Just in time to catch an errant and soft punch to the nose that sure enough hurt but did little to slow him down as his dad had taught him to fight through the pain. Blood and scars happened. They were a natural consequence of life to a man.
Taking the punch and falling further into his red state Matt headbutted the punch thrower before another guy arm bared his throat from behind. Which he managed to get his grip on the arm over a letterman jacked and jerk the unprepared boy to the side with him still latched on.
A few feet away from the lockers Matt knew his only chance was to jump and push off the lockers and knock the boy to the ground and so he did. He heard a thunk of the boy’s skull bouncing off the ground and he turned to pull out of the grapple.
The beatings he had taken from his father, the grapples, being choked unconscious. Had prepared him for fighting little bitches who didn’t know what a fight was. It wasn’t gay porn with rabbit punch fists flying.
Blood was running down his face and the pain started to hit him as the threats had been eliminated. Only then did he remember to breathe. Taking breathes as Vicky came up to him with tissues and took a hold of his nose.
“Owww owww owww what the fuck my nose could be broken.” He said to Vicky as she pulled his head up and back.
“It’s ok Carl. It’s done.” Matt tried to look to see who Vicky was talking to. It was a boy taller than his 5’9” by more than a small margin. The boy eyed him bored and annoyed before speaking. “What happened here?” An unoriginal line but one Matt couldn’t be a smart aleck about. “Well you see there was an outbreak of tripping and we all tripped over my dick. It happens.” Matt was about to laugh when Vicky seemed to pull up while still gripping his nose causing Matt no small amount of pain which he audibly evidenced.
Vicky spoke in a tone he wasn’t expecting. As if she was accustomed to issuing orders. “Keep Iris away from the hall till we sanitize the site. We have blood from at least three people contaminating the site. And have Jake bring me a spare jacket and shirt for this moron.”
Carl seemed to acknowledge her orders and seemed to blink away. Maybe the punch hit harder than he expected. He had no time to wonder as Vick took her hand away from his and pushed him against the lockers. With ease he had not been expecting from her form and stature.
Before he could respond Vicky licked his blood covered chin and then his lips and spoke to him. “Focus on me you little blood bag.” Her tone had an annoyed yet feminine sneer.
“Look into my eyes. Look at me. You belong to me. You are just another food source in a collection of food sources.” Her eyes were a beautiful hazel Matt thought. Almost green. Pretty like jewels in some old treasure collections. The eyes he could get lost in before kissing her. Finally Vicky was just a slight and petite brunette and he thought she was beautiful.
She would make a hell of a girlfriend. Some cute thing he could see laying on the beach in Florida on their sides laughing and smiling before trading light kisses while hands wandered innocently. Before his mind could drift further he felt her lips on his. It took him a second to mentally grasp the kiss but his arms were around her back as her hands were at his sides. His eyes reflexively closed as he saw hers close.
It was ineffable to Matt. Beyond words, what was happening. The kiss, the moments beforehand. The way his brain tickled with electricity and gentle warmth. He had never had a kiss like this and he had traded more than a few kisses with at least a few girls.
The kiss was like a warm bath with his consciousness slipping beneath the surface. Their lips only parted to try new angles and approaches as Matt struggled to take in breath. It was a moment he could have stayed trapped in for….he didn’t know. But a curt throat clearing by another girl pulled them out of the moment.
The girl was taller than Vicky. Blonde. With slight curves. Vicky addressed her bewildered and gobsmacked, and perhaps a bit embarrassed. “Tina?”

Hi all. I’ve had somatic OCD before. Last year I was focusing on my blinking and it was horrible and lasted a while. Couple of months ago it was breathing. And now I’m experiencing the swallowing. It’s so horrible. And I keep thinking about how long it’s going to last for. I know I shouldn’t, and I have to let it go. But it’s really hard. My throat is hurting from all the swallowing. I’m worried because I’ve had somatic OCD before a few times, this time it just isn’t going to go away 😞
I don’t really know why I posted this. Just looking for support from people who have gone through the same thing.

Sneaking into supposedly haunted building late at night always sounded like a laugh, but I don't think so anymore.
​
My town has this old mill. There used to be a lot of farmland around here, and the mill was practically the lifeblood of the town. You wouldn't know it to look at the place now. The soil surrounding us for a good couple of miles out is dry as bone with nothing growing out of it, and the mill looks like it's falling apart. Which apparently it has been since even before it closed down a few decades ago since a series of accidents is said to have been what finally pulled the plug on the old place—accidents where people died.
​
Which is where all the ghost stories come from, which in turn are what led to my late-night venture into a building that looked like it would fall on top of me any moment if I brushed the wrong bit of wall. It was dumb, and the one or two friends I'd told of my plan thought I was going to get myself killed. In hindsight, they were right. But then, hindsight is 20/20, right?
​
The door was easy enough to force. I had the torch function on my mobile phone switched on, and I saw that the wooden door was barely there anymore. Once it was open, I was hit by a cloud of dust so thick that I nearly choked on it. I couldn't believe I was the first one to try exploring the mill since it closed down, but that's what the air was telling me as I stepped inside.
​
Most of it was wood just like the outside. Decades-old wooden pillars held up the ceiling, above which had to be more machinery like what I saw in this downstairs room. I won't pretend to know what any of it does, but it was rusted with age and far past its ability to perform its function. It looked heavy, though, and I immediately feared the prospect of the ceiling crashing down upon me. But, I reasoned, if it were going to do that, this place would have collapsed years ago, wouldn't it?
​
The thought calmed me slightly but not much. After all, it would have to fall eventually.
​
I was about to climb the stairs, satisfied that nothing was left to see on the ground floor, when the whisper reached me.
​
"Help."
​
I spun around, startled, to see absolutely nobody. The room was still as empty as it had been when I broke the door open. My heart raced in my chest from the start the voice had given me. "Is that someone mucking about?" I asked.
​
There was no answer.
​
I took some slow, deep breaths to calm myself down. Just my mind playing tricks on me, I thought. This place being spooky is the whole reason you came here.
​
Satisfied that I was alone and that the voice had been nothing more than an illusion produced by my own mind's reaction to the darkness around me, I continued on up the stairs. Each one creaked as I planted a foot upon it, and I had visions of the flimsy wood breaking beneath my weight. At least I wouldn't have far to fall.
​
I was right about there being more machinery on the floor above, although I still couldn't tell you what any of it was for. Well, I knew logically that it was for the process of making grain, but you know what I mean. I pointed the torch at it and saw that it was just as rusty as what was downstairs. I sighed. Nothing here but rust and dust. Not that I was expecting to find any ghosts or anything, but I was hoping for something marginally more interesting than old machinery and drifting flakes of crumbling wood.
​
One of the shadows to my left moved, and I bloody near toppled onto my ass, yelling.
​
My heart hammered away its rhythm at a quickened pace, and I pointed my light toward the area of the movement. Nothing. Just more old wood.
​
I was alone, but I was certain that something had moved in here.
​
"First your ears, now your eyes," I said to myself shakily, trying to make a joke of it. "This dark's making you lose your marbles. You're the only one here."
​
Only ... I found that I didn't believe that anymore.
​
I can't tell you what it was, but I just had an overwhelming feeling that I was no longer alone. I felt like a deer in a clearing who's just begun to suspect a tiger is watching me from the bushes. I could feel my legs tensing, preparing myself to run for the stairs.
​
I stood there for what felt like an hour but was in actuality only a couple of minutes. I breathed to calm myself down again and decided that I really wasn't in the right headspace for this. I was too nervous. Too ... scared. Prey instincts I didn't even know I had were kicking in, and that couldn't be healthy. I decided to leave.
​
I walked down the stairs, each step toward the front door coming as a relief.
​
Then I saw it.
​
A door. A door I knew hadn't been there when I'd entered the building. I remember sweeping my torch all over the room, and at no point had I seen that door in its light.
​
"Down here. Help."
​
It was the same voice as before, whispering in my ear so closely that I should have felt their breath on my lobe. But I felt nothing of the sort. A chill ran up my spine. Fuck this, I thought, and turned to charge at the exit.
​
It was gone.
​
Where once there was the front door, which I had broken open to gain entry in the first place, there was now only more wooden wall.
​
I could bring myself to do nothing but stand and stare for a few minutes. It wasn't possible. The door was there, I knew it was! How could it be gone? What was happening? A scream of primal fear ripped its way out of my throat, and I charged at the wooden wall. The wood was flimsy-looking and rotted and should have broken easily, but with every punch I succeeded only in making my fists ache, and with every kick all I made was noise. Noise which reached nobody but myself.
​
Tears of terror and frustration ran down my cheeks in rivers, and I bit my hand to keep from loudly sobbing. I was trapped.
​
My legs buckled beneath me as the truth of my situation finally became clear, and I sat on the dusty wooden floors, my back against the infuriatingly sturdy wooden wall, and I held my head in my hand. What do I do?
​
I must have sat there for hours.
​
The sun didn't rise. No light peaked in through the gaps between the wood planks.
​
"Help," the voice came again. This time it was no whisper, but a call from beyond the new door. "Down here. Help."
​
Well ... what else could I do but listen?
​
I stood up on shaky legs, bracing myself against the wall until I was sure I could stand unaided. Then I made my way over to the new door and gently pushed it open. It made a long, high-pitched creaking noise as it opened to reveal a second staircase—one that led down.
​
I didn't want to go down. I wanted to leave, but I couldn't. My only other option was to sit and wait for something to happen, and I thought that might drive me mad.
​
I went down the stairs.
​
Unlike the ones upstairs, these steps didn't creak as I stepped on them. In fact, my footfalls made no sound at all, which if anything was even more unsettling.
​
Yet that was not the most terrifying part. The part that scared me most, the part that got my heart racing so badly that I thought it'd beat its way right out of my chest, was the way the stairs just didn't end.
​
I must have been walking down them for a good ten minutes before the thought occurred to me. My first instinct was to run around and run back up, but somehow I knew that if I did that, I would be running up forever just as I'd be walking down forever. Maybe I was wrong, but I don't think I was.
​
"Keep going," the voice said, whispering from right by my ear once again. "Come down."
​
I could see it now, whatever was speaking to me. Only not really. I didn't see what it looked like, but I saw it there, out of the corner of my eye, walking right next to me on the stairs somehow without ever touching me. Just a dark shape that only superficially resembled a human body—and too many eyes to count, all of them glowing a dull yellow, each one blinking periodically. Its entire body covered in them.
​
I sped up my descent down the stairs. I knew I wouldn't find an end, but I had to get away from whatever it was that was with me. That deeply-buried prey instinct rose in me again, this time to the point of damn near screaming at me to run, run away because the predator was here.
​
But I couldn't get away.
​
No matter how much I picked up speed, it was always there, right by me.
​
"Yes, yes!" it cried in pleasure. There was a sort of slurping sound. "Just like that! Such delicious terror!"
​
I screamed.
​
It laughed.
​
And suddenly, I understood.
​
It was eating me, not in body but in soul. With every second of fear, I could feel myself growing weaker. I felt thinner, less substantial. At some point, I knew, I would stop existing.
​
​
I was scared, and that only fed it more of me.
​
But then I realised something else: there were no walls around the staircase. Just a great expanse of darkness beyond the splintered wooden bannisters on either side.
​
I had a way out.
​
I stopped running down the stairs, turned, and gripped the bannister. Without so much as thinking about the height, I launched myself over the edge.
​
There was a roar of pure rage loud enough to still be ringing in my eardrums now.
​
Then a blinding light.
​
It was the sun.
​
I sat up, and I was outside the mill again. The warmth of the sun felt glorious, and I've never been happier to find myself lying in the grass where all the bugs could crawl all over me.
​
I think I know why the land around our town died.
​
I'm moving soon. I've told everyone else they should do the same, but they aren't listening to me. I hope they come to their senses before it's too late.
​
Because whatever is living in the mill is hungry.
​
How long will it take to leave its habitat and feast properly?
​
I can already hear that voice again.

Hello Apes.
Long time holder and sleeper over the last few years, just quietly holding and buying after believing in the DD of previous much more intelligent apes than I, no more so than the absolute chad who kicked this all off, DFV.
Although I should be working right now, I wanted to round up all of the tweets from yesterday and understand the messages behind what was being tweeted. It seems to me that although DFV has to be cryptic with his memes, he has had so long to line this up that there must be intentional messaging behind the tweets too.
This is pure speculation on my part and i've tried to go through the original tweet posts on here and pick up on anything in the comments that others might have picked up on.
11am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790034263603139012
Description: I'm not a massive Marvel watcher so maybe people can help me expand but the Thanos scene is taken from the ending credits of Scene of Age of Ultron where he has the infinity gauntlet in his hand saying "Fine, Ill do it myself" and the Wolverine scene is taken from X-Men origins where Wolverine is brought back to life and in remembering previous life events, went into a full on rage taking out everybody.
Speculation: The first tweet of the market day and a real statement of intent from DFV. Announcing to the world that he is truly back and he is still in. Lots of speculation about whether he would post a YOLO after hours (he did not) but certainly a statement of intent.
11.30am - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790041813379850491
Description: First part is the final scene of Ferris Bueller's Day Off I believe after the credits roll breaking the 3rd wall to ask why you are still here. Next we have Breaking Bad and this is where Saul wants out of the operation as it's becoming high risk but Walter tells him that they are done when he says they are done. Then we have a cat waking from a slumber with the Radiohead song Exit Music (for a film) playing and finally we have the beginning piano music to 'Light of the Seven' from Game of Thrones.
Speculation: I believe the first part is a joke that a lot of people have probably asked you over the years and will certainly ask you over the coming days, "oh are you still holding that GME stock?", "why are you still doing that?" but it could also be directed towards DFV as well from SHFs, why are you still here? (what's an exit strategy huh?). The Breaking Bad reference is an excellent rebuttal to that, "we're done, when i say we're done" (SHF's are fk). The Cat waking slowly can describe DFV slowly waking from his slumber, remember his last tweet to sign off years ago of a Cat going to sleep? The song has some interesting lyrics which i won't post in full but you can see for yourself here Here. Just to pick a few lines out; "Today we escape", "Breathe, keep breathing, Don't lose your nerve", "I can't do this alone". The final part is probably my favorite scene from GoT, Cersei's plan comes to full fruition with sweet revenge when she blows up the temple of a cult that had embarassed her beforehand and threatened her rule. She makes them pay with a giant green explosion so take from that what you will. If you want to check out the scene you can find it here.
12pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790049362846117942
Description: First we have V for Vendetta with "first the overture". Next we have a person driving in reverse from Ready Player One and then we have another scene from GoT where Daenerys (The Mother of Dragons) is facing confrontation from a murderous clan who are fighting against her claim over their city and her dragon waking up.
Speculation: The overture is an orchestral piece at the beginning of an opera and generally means an introduction to something more substantial, no need to expand further on that. I haven't seen Ready Player One but from looking at comments in other posts: The Ready Player One scene, he wins the race by beating the system. The GoT scene was the waking up Drogon to come to the aid of The Mother of Dragons while a group attempted to assassinate her, all looked lost until Drogon rode in to save the day. I tried to find the episode the check back but I'm pretty sure the actual dragon waking up scene is taken from an episode further into GME where the Dragon originally has blue eyes so I think that clip has been changed to include red eyes (GME red button anyone?)
Edit\* As pointed out in the comments by MrsDuckyJonez, "He did another Ready Player One scene years ago and it was the scene right before this one. It was really important because she tells him that he saw something that no one else saw- that in order to win (beat the system) he had to go backwards instead of racing for the finish line. The speculation back then when he posted it was that going back and looking at puts/calls was evidence that hedgies are fukd".\*
12:30pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790056912664601031
Description: Firstly, this is taken from Gangs of New York where Amsterdam's father is giving his son a shaving knife and stating "the blood stays on the blade" building up to a confrontation with Bill where he will eventually kill him with it. Then we go to the scene just before that happens but everyone has their faces painted in green. Finally we have the music video for Ludacris - Stand Up.
Speculation: I haven't seen Gangs of New York but from doing some research online about the significance of the hunting blade i came across this:

The shaving knife is symbolic.
"The blood stays on the blade" can be interpreted as "you can't wash away your sins."
One of the major themes of the film is that history repeats itself if we don't learn from its lessons.

Seems like a pretty simple message that SHFs haven't learnt their lessons and history is repeating itself right now, sign of things to come perhaps? Then we have Stand up, DFV having some fun here but the lyrics again have some interesting lines, "Watch out for the medallion, my diamonds are reckless", "What's wrong? The club and the moon is full", "One sure shot way to get 'em outta them pants". You can find the full lyrics Here
1pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790064464357724451
Description: Some car scenes here: Firstly we have a car driving off into the sunset taken from the Wiz Khalifa - See you Again music video (part of the Furious 7 soundtrack), then we have a car chase with a car pulling off a highway (not sure where this is from or if its a highway (i'm a UK ape) and finally we have another car chase but this one the driver has beaten the police cars and is pulling up.
Speculation: I like the take from u/ tajwriggly here where it could be that DFV is saying everyone thought he was driving off into the sunset for the life of ease... and who could blame him if he was? But no... he's right off the path and in the thick of things with the rest of us. I think all 3 scenes put together tell a short story, DFV seemingly riding off, then DFV giving it the big turn in a big chase and then DFV giving it the slip in his zen like state.
1.30pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790072011810812231
Description: First scene shows a woman on the verge of being beheaded before being spared at the last minute then we cut to a scene with 'Ain't no mountain high enough' coming in then finally Florence & the Machine with Dog Days Are Over.
Speculation: GME is going to run, there ain't no mountain high enough that's going to stop what this can reach and the DOG days are over, it's the days of the cat now.
2:00pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790079562866360327
Description: A beautiful cut scene of the avengers initiative charging as a team to save the world. All kinds of superheroes big and small.
Speculation: Whilst we are all individual investors we all do share in one common interest, we love the stock. There could be a case here for basket theory but I won't speculate on that further as I'm personally only interested in one stock but take from that what you will.
2:30pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790087112282239085
Description: The first scene is taken from the final duel in The Good, The Bad and The Ugly only some crowd cheering has been dubbed into the background. Then we have Thor coming down hard to smash everyone.
Speculation: There is a nervy standoff happening maybe between different short positions, who is going to blink first and close up knowing that making a move means bloodshed only...it doesn't matter because they are all going to get absolutely smashed anyway by the supreme hammer of Thor.
3:00pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790094668237259040
Description: First scene, "make no mistake it's not revenge he is after it's a reckoning", then we have a shotgun wielding man "you tell him i'm coming, and hells coming with me you hear?" and finally we have Narco with some baddass horse riders taking shots.
Speculation: As u/ strikeeagle points out, the Narco trumpets are synonymous with Mets fans as they bring in Edwin Diaz "Narco" to close up, usually when it's "Game over" for the opposing team. The reckoning is coming! Oh and Steve Cohen owns the Mets of course, trading is a tough game don't ya think?
3:30pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790102212619669909
Description: Pirates of the Caribbean scene where Captain Barbossa asks what has become of his precious and infamous ship, The Black Pearl. Then we have Men in Black where they press the red button and jet off.
Speculation: The captain is back to take back the ship and he is pressing the red button to send this into the stratosphere.
4:00pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790109766389477525
Description: Peeky blinders, Tommy Shelby, leader of the Shelby crew is prepping his family to be on their best behaviour just before they fleece a load of the elite at the races then we have another Peeky Blinders scene in which Tommy has another plan up his sleeve but in the end keeps it simple to achieve their goals for revenge.
Speculation: DFV has a plan and all that is required from GME loving people is just to keep your plums in order and enjoy the ride, don't make it more complicated than it needs to be, everything is already happening.
Edit: Sorry i missed one (i was in bed by this time 1am in UK)
8pm: - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790170162265460831
Description: The scene from Snatch where the Gypsy takes revenge on the gang that killed his mother after a continuing conflict throughout the film by taking to them with shotguns then we have the music video of BANG! by AJR and finally the Glengarry Glen Ross speech by Alec Baldwin with "oh, have i got your attention now?"
Speculation: Along the common theme here, Snatch is showing a big revenge with lots of shots fired and this is continued with lots more BANGS directed from Roaring Kitty. Finally the most interesting part of the video in my opinion, quoting the Glengarry Glen Ross Speech, I recommend you give it watch here but if you don't have time, ABC (ALWAYS BE CLOSING), YOU CLOSE OR YOU HIT THE BRICKS. Full scene here.
Let me know if you have anything to add below and hope you found this helpful. I really should do some work now.
Buy - Hodl - DRS
Love ya DFV x

switch (current_manual) { case SCENE_M1A: digitalWrite(Y1_RELAY, HIGH); delay(3000); digitalWrite(Y1_RELAY, LOW); digitalWrite(LTR1_RELAY, HIGH); digitalWrite(G1_RELAY, HIGH); digitalWrite(R3_RELAY, HIGH); if (is_switching) run_manual_blink_mode_scenarios(SCENE_M1B); break; I just want to turn on y1 relay for 3 seconds and turn it off and turn on the other relays. this is a feature in the program where if I press a specific button those relays will turn on. in this case Y1 will be turning on and off in a loop with 3 seconds interval. I would like to remove the loop and keep the program running, this is because I have multiple scenes like this and if I put a while(true) in one of the the other scenes will halt too. 

Are you tired of dealing with dead zones and weak WiFi signals in your home or office? Look no further than the Coredy E300 WiFi Range Extender setup . In this detailed guide, we'll walk you through the setup process step by step, whether you're using WPS or the web-based method. Additionally, we'll cover essential tasks such as logging in, resetting the device, updating firmware, and configuring it as an access point. Let's dive in!
Understanding the Coredy E300 WiFi Range Extender
Before we jump into the setup process, let's take a moment to understand what the Coredy E300 WiFi Range Extender brings to the table. This device is designed to extend the reach of your existing WiFi network, eliminating dead zones and ensuring a strong, reliable connection throughout your home or office.

What's Included in the Box?

When you unbox your Coredy E300 WiFi Range Extender, you'll find everything you need to get started:

• The Coredy E300 device itself
• An Ethernet cable for wired connections
• A quick installation guide to help you through the setup process

Setting Up Your Coredy E300 WiFi Range Extender
Now that you're familiar with what's included, let's move on to setting up your Coredy E300 WiFi Range Extender. We'll cover two methods: using WPS (Wi-Fi Protected Setup) and the web-based setup wizard.

Method 1: Setting Up Using WPS

1. Locate the WPS Button: First, find the WPS button on your Coredy E300 device. It's usually located on the side or the back.
2. Press the WPS Button: Press and hold the WPS button on the extender for about 5 seconds until the WPS LED starts blinking.
3. Activate WPS on Your Router: Within 2 minutes, press the WPS button on your router. The WPS LED on the extender will turn solid green once the connection is successful.
4. Connect to the Extender: Once connected, use your device to connect to the new extended network named something like "Coredy-Extender."

Method 2: Setting Up Using the Web-Based Method

1. Connect to the Extender: Use an Ethernet cable to connect your computer or mobile device to the Coredy E300 WiFi Range Extender.
2. Access the Setup Page: Open a web browser and type in the IP address "192.168.10.1" in the address bar. Press Enter to access the login page.
3. Login: Enter the default username and password (usually "admin" for both) to log in to the extender's web interface.
4. Follow the Setup Wizard: Once logged in, follow the on-screen instructions to complete the setup process, including selecting your existing WiFi network and entering the password.

How to Log In, Reset, and Update Firmware
Now that your Coredy E300 WiFi Range Extender setup, let's explore some essential tasks you might need to perform in the future.

Logging In

To log in to your Coredy E300 device:

1. Open a web browser and type "192.168.10.1" into the address bar.
2. Enter your username and password when prompted. If you haven't changed them, the default credentials are typically "admin" for both.

Resetting the Device

If you ever need to reset your Coredy E300 WiFi Range Extender to its factory settings:

1. Locate the reset button on the device.
2. Use a paperclip or similar tool to press and hold the reset button for about 10 seconds.
3. Release the button when the LED lights on the device start flashing.

Updating Firmware

Keeping your device's firmware up to date is crucial for optimal performance and security. Here's how to update the firmware:

1. Log in to the extender's web interface using the steps outlined above.
2. Navigate to the settings or administration section.
3. Look for an option to check for firmware updates and follow the on-screen instructions to download and install any available updates.

Configuring Your Coredy E300 as an Access Point
In addition to extending your existing WiFi network, you can also configure your Coredy E300 WiFi Range Extender to function as an access point. This allows you to create a new WiFi network or connect devices directly via Ethernet.
To configure your Coredy E300 as an access point:

1. Log in to the extender's web interface.
2. Navigate to the settings or network section.
3. Look for an option to configure the device as an access point and follow the on-screen instructions to complete the setup.

Conclusion
congratulations! You've successfully installed your Coredy E300 WiFi Range Extender setup , eliminated WiFi dead zones, and ensured a strong, reliable connection throughout your home or office. Whether you use the WPS method or the web-based setup wizard, you're now ready to enjoy seamless connectivity on all your devices. Don't forget to explore additional features and settings to customise your experience further.

Everything has slowed down. I clicked on forced restart but it is still stuck on this one screen. The tiny light that keeps blinking to show something is being processed, has also stopped.

Hi! In having problems with my keyboard. It worked fine before but for some reason it stopped working. The easy connect f1 is blinking, also the power light is blinking and the rest of the buttons. I can not switch between the easy connect f2 and f3 and the keyboard does not show up as an option in Bluetooth. I have tried turning it on and off, I’ve tried holding in f1 also with fn. also tried the esc o esc o esc b, but nothing happens at all. It just keeps blinking it is as if the buttons don’t work at all. Anyone else had this issue or know how to fix it? See the video for how it looks.

I apply to countless minimum wage jobs and attend countless interviews = I’m never hired unless the company is desperate. I graduate = I’m in debt for life and my degree is useless. I make art and put it out there = no one wants to see it, no one would notice if I never drew anything in my life again. I make stories and characters = no one cares what will happen, no one would blink if I never thought or spoke of them again. I have a friend = I tire myself out being socially confused, I don’t know how to contact them, how to have them over, how to be in anyone’s life really. I don’t have a friend anymore. I work hard at my creative pursuits = I know nobody in the industry, it doesn’t matter anyway because making and keeping a friend is a one in a million chance. All that work has no worthwhile outlet. It may as well have never happened. I go to therapy = I can no longer afford it, I lose my progress if I made any in the first place, I don’t get better.
It’s summer, I had so many ambitions, so many things I was excited to do when I finally had time. Now I wake up, eat food, apply to jobs, and do some little errand. Then I rot online for hours while I try to figure out what on earth I can do that will either make me happy, or matter to someone.
People always sugar coat it but getting up over and over does not guarantee eventual success. The only thing I can see so clearly about my future is that I will die in the same cycle of falling down and getting up. If I am not capable (I know because I never have been), if I am not wanted (I know because I can see it, I can feel it), if I wasn’t supposed to be here, why am I here? Why do I do anything? How do I find worth in any fleeting thing I have ever or will ever attempt?

Hi guys, my samsung TV has been acting up lately, it stucks at power up, the power button keeps blinking red + the TV itself is constantly restarting (with power up sound but no image). I have tried hard reset the power button (with cable plugged and unplugged) any ideas or I'm screwed?

Hi everyone. I’m in an extremely tough place. This morning I went to the Bascom Palmer eye institute ER in Miami Florida because this past week I lost more function on the infected side of my face. From November 30th, 2023 to April 30th, 2024 I had a mild case of Bell’s palsy and most people couldn’t really tell I had it unless I made strong facial expressions, tried blinking, closing my eyes or laughed. As of May 1st my top lip completely drooped down on the left side and now when I eat I have issues with accidentally biting my top lip. As of May 8th my infected eye widen open a little more than before and doesn’t close completely anymore. Since May 8th I’ve been taping my eye shut to go to sleep at night and the liquid based eye drops I was using before doesn’t work anymore. Now I use an ointment called Systane lubricant eye ointment nighttime severe dry eye relief. The ointment helps keep my eye more moisturized but it makes my vision a bit blurry. At the Bascom Palmer ER they did test on my eyes and said the inside of my eye is still good but the cornea is drying out quickly. They told me to buy Refresh optive mega 3 lubricant eye drops to use throughout the day and to continue using the Systane ointment at night when I sleep.
They told me they’re gonna call me tomorrow to set up an appointment to possibly discuss doing a surgery called the gold eyelid weight surgery or possibly another procedure.
Last week I called a virtual urgent care and told them about the lip drooping after 5 months of being fine and they decided to give me a second round of medication.They prescribed me prednisone 20 MG 2 pills a day for 5 days and valacyclovir 1GM tab 2 pills twice a day for two days. I finished medication this past Friday May 10th. I’m hoping in a few weeks or a month to see some sort of progress but I’m not going to lie, my faith is shot.
Earlier today I was able to get in contact with the neurologist I saw in March of this year and gave him a breakdown of what has happened the last 2 weeks and I’m a bit annoyed by his response. Between February and March of this year he did blood test to rule out diabetes, STDs/HIV, Lyme disease and kidney issues. He also did an MRI of my brain and an EMG nerve conduct test. The nerve conduct test showed I had severe nerve damage back in March but still based on how I looked physically the neurologist claimed I still had a mild case. Earlier today he told me he wanted to do another MRI of my brain and that I should get an eye patch in addition to taping my eye shut at night. Those were the only 2 things he suggested despite all that’s going on. I honestly have no idea what to do and I’ve reached a point where I’m starting to freak out. If anyone has any helpful tips they can share it’ll be greatly appreciated.

Hi there! I'm mainly making this post because the past three days I have ended up matching with three actual skinwalkers. I'm on a roll and hoping an actual person will message me and break this dumpster-ass streak lol!
Muh Face
Me being cringe af
Okay so a little about me! My fossil ID is 34/M/TX to start. I'm a very extroverted introvert. By that I mean I ramble about unhinged topics at length on mic but freeze up and a mumble rap in public and not in a work uniform. I am a basic bitch early 2000s weeb/gamer with a hard r. As such I don't actually watch new anime, but just rewatch the same 3 comfort shows (send me recommendations and I won't watch them but will check the wiki and say I did).
As for games I'm on PS5/PC/Switch I'm currently playing Outlast the Trials, Helldivers 2, Fallout 76 (the best one fight me), Dragon's Dogma Dark Arisen (ITS BEEN LIKE 13 YEARS LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO) and tomorrow DD2, and Rise of Ronin. On PC I and playing Palworld and Nightingale. My Switch is also here...
Other hobbies include but are not limited to, playing guitar, squawking with playing guitar, jogging, driving in a very safe and sane manner, walking into target looking at one thing then immediately leaving, playing with my dog, breathing, being a functional member of society and not an unhinged weirdo in a skinsuit.
If you would like to apply I mainly like to communicate via voiceclips and would be hyped if you did too. Please keep in mind when applying for this position I have very strict criteria on which I will select applicants. Below is a list of required skills.
°Be funny °Be able to breathe °Blink occasionally (optional) °Bonus points for pics with your intro
That's about it. I look forward to sifting through all (one) of the messages I'll be barraged with. Hope you all have a pleasant whatever. :)

Hey all, trying to set a simple watchdog timer to let my Arduino Pro Mini reset after 2 loops. Thing is that it's not working for some reason I can't figure out why. the red light on it keeps blinking frantically but no reset. Here's my code: I`ve also tried while(1){} instead of doing a delay(2200) but no luck. Appreciate any help.

void loop() { while (1) { partial_display(16, 48, 0, 128, partial00, partial01); delay(1100); partial_display(16, 48, 0, 128, partial01, partial03); delay(1000); partial_display(16, 48, 0, 128, partial03, partial04); delay(1200); partial_display(16, 48, 0, 128, partial04, partial00); delay(1100); loopCounter++; if (loopCounter > 2) { wdt_enable(WDTO_2S); delay(2200); } } } 

Brief Synopsis: After accidentally murdering a man, Laela Shay discovers she is a succubus. For her safety, she moves to a special university made for training and protecting people of demonic descent like herself. But when a string of murders happen on campus, Laela may not be as safe as she thinks.
[Urban fantasy/paranormal/horror with a deaf lesbian lead and an eventual lesbian romance.]

Laela Shay started her work day with a broken heel.
She sat at the dressing room table, clutching her broken seven-inch stiletto like a stillborn baby and blinking away tears to keep her eyeliner from running. She had already broken her other pair—these were her spares—and didn’t have time to buy a new pair before she had to clock in. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. Perhaps the manager would show mercy upon her, but with the amount of backrent on her contract currently, she wasn’t counting on it.
A coworker, who she had gotten to know as Alice, approached her, clutching PVC thigh high boots. From the size of the platform, Laela deduced they were eight inches—a whole inch taller than what she was used to dancing in.
“Here,” Alice said, handing them over. “I think we’re the same size. Just give them back when you get a new pair.”
Laela sniffled and took them from her. “You really don’t need to—”
Alice held up a well-manicured hand. Laela had long nails on a good day, but Alice’s were a good five inches long and bedazzled to the point Laela wasn’t sure how she did anything with her hands. “It’s really fine. Go make your money, girl.”
Hesitantly, Laela slipped them on, doing a few test walks in the mostly-vacant locker room. She felt a little like a baby deer first learning how to walk, but the more she paced, the more she got used to it. “These are amazing,” Laela said.
Alice lifted her head from her locker so Laela could read her lips. “They should be. They were almost two hundred dollars.”
Laela winced, then did some shoddy mental math to figure out if affording these was in the cards for her. Deciding she didn’t have time to muse upon it, she gave Alice a thank-you hug, took out her hearing aids, gave her makeup a final touchup, and headed into the club.
In hindsight, Laela wished she hadn’t taken the shoes from Alice. She could’ve eaten the extra one hundred fifty missing today’s shift would’ve tacked onto her backrent.
It would have been better than what she was about to face.
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