Okay, fourth rewrite, I'm making this in hopes that their is someone who can help me in some way. Maybe someone knows the answer to it all and can guide me, though unlikely. I'll just list out all my issues in seperate paragraphs and hopefully their is just someone out their to help, if you can help me just please do, I really need help or at least someone and you reading this and giving me advice would truly mean a lot to me. Anyways
I feel stupid: I honestly feel braindead, I hate my mind so much. Sometimes it's hard to think or do, sometimes I can't think or do. My mind is so numb, everything about my mind just feels wrong and dead. My mind has felt dead for a year or two now and I just wish it was alive, I want my mind to be normol, I want it to actually work. I also want confidence in my mind, any failure or lack of underatanding makes me defeated and feeling like a dunce. Anything I can do I say was just luck or something anyone should know. I don't know if I'm stupid or not but dam I feel like I am the dumbest in a room. I would give it all to be intelliegent, I wish I was smart, well read, well informed, well versed. I so desperately want to know, so desperately want to be smart. I wish I could understand stuff. I just want to be smart and have a bright alive mind, but my mind is so dead and desolate and compared to the rest worthless. I hit myself in my head whenever I'm mistaken or just feel so stupid, and I honestly deserve it. If I were to kill myself my mind being numb and stupid would be the reason or a big reason why, I just want to be smart. You can likely tell just how much of an idiot I am by reading this via grammer, spelling, complaints. That "likely" was meant to be "probaboly" but I'm just stupid and worthless to spell. If there was just a way to be smart and not such a moron, I fucking hate my life.
I have body issues: I without doubt have body issues, the biggest of which is my weight. As of now I am 5,9 (1.7M) and 211lbs (95.7KG), I was 246lbs (111kg) to begin with and it was also my heaviest. Despite losing a good amount of weight I am not happy and have no pride, I'm still fat and thats all I see sadly. I don't want to be fat or skinny, I want to be muscular:big arms, built chest, flat stomach, no abs (don't like them) that sounds appealing, it's what I want. Unfourtunely I as of now can't work to this goal, I don't have money for a gym or equipment, famliy funds can't do it ethier and awhile ago I turned down a weight bench since I wasn't confident, now I regret that choice. I hate being fat so much, and this deep hatred and desperation has led to a embarassing cycle, for two years now I have been downloading images of muscular bodies. They're all drawings or from videogames since I'm to embarresed to have real images and as mentioned it's a cycle, Download and store -> have them and look at them for awhile -> get ashamed of myself -> purge it all -> regret -> repeat. Like stated this has been going for two years and as of now I have ten different images. Apart from weight I also have some other physical insecurites, acne being a big one. I been suffering from acne for years, fifth grade, early sixth grade is when it started so five years of this. It mostly effects my chin and cheeks badly but also effects more of my face, sometimes the acne hurts and it often even bleeds. I hate touching my face and feeling grime and ripping off a bunch of skin and dried shit. I wash every night and try to be frequent with morning witch-hazel but it dosen't relent. I also hate it when it gets mentioned, it is irratating to be reminded and noticed and nobody points it out more then my own mom who also cliams it would go if I just washed. I do, I fucking do! It's not working and you don't understand that! I also have body acne I don't know how to fix, I like sleeping shirtless which I know is the reason, also inconsistent with bedding which isn't right. Even if I did wash sheets weekly it wouldn't be enough, I would still get acne on my body. I just want to sleep shirtless and not get acne, I wish I could find a way. Another insecurite but not really is my height, I don't mind being 5'9/5'10 I mean it's about average height and I beat out my 5'4 father. But I'm sixteen which mean I still have possibilty to get taller and I wonder, will I? If I do, just how tall? Could I reach 6'0+? All of this speculation makes me a bit insecure, also with being fat I look short and round in the mirror which is defeating. I'm secure besides speculation and weight but at the same time I truly want to be taller, I think any man tall or short wishes they were taller, I wish I could break 6'0 that would be cool (to me). But I don't think that will ever happen, my dad is 5'4, my mom is 5'6 I made it 5'9/5'10 and my chart is stagnating, should just stop thinking I'll get taller. Another phsyical insecurite and likely the last one I'll mention unless I think of another worthwhile one is my hair, I'm insecurie of my hairstyle. Or lack of hairstyle, my mom says I have independence in this choice but whenever I make a choice she complains about it. Any agreement is one sided or changed up a little so she likes it. I have always hated my hairstyles over the years, even now and as of now it's ethier her way or a unorgainzied thick mess that will soon be her way. I hate it, wish I could make my own "independent" choice, even if I could my mom would likely hate it and always bring it up which is something I don't want to deal with. My mom is more for short cuts and fades etc, I hate fades and while I do admire short hair have always taken liking to shagger and longer styles, more rugged style. I have also always liked long hair and even wanted it. I used to openly want long hair for a long time but my mom opposed, I tried to convince her but she was opposed. She wasn't only opposed to it she made sure to express that it was gay and feminine etc, etc. She made me close off and forgot the desire but even now she won't let go. She is so sure to tell everyone: famliy, her friends, the hairdresser, hell maybe even strangers, she tells everyone about how much I wanted it and what she thought of it etc. Often I have been embarresed like this while I was right there, I have expressed that this embarreses me and want it to stop mutiple times yet she'll continue almost as if it's purposeful, she will also bring up an old friend T who had long hair as an example of it looking bad. But he didn't take care of it or do anything, most he would do is give into his moms begging and have her brush it. If I had long hair I would actually take care of it and do stuff to it! She also claims I got the idea from him, but no I liked it since elementary being inspired by personal inkling and rock. I no longer want hair but am starting to find styles I really like, but first I need to get my mom to fuck off. And second I would want to grow a beard, which is another issue of mine. I'm sixteen I shouldn't expect a full beard but I have seen peers with actual good facial hair, patchy beards, five o'clocks, some actually have a beard. Then there is me, with some sideburns and a bunch of peachfuzz, I want to be able to grow a beard and the peachfuzz plus sideburns bother me, I want it to actually devlop, I want a beard. I am also worried about devlopment, worried acne will hurt or even stop growth. I'm upset about my lack of growth though I definetly have unrealistic expectations. Lastly with hair is my chest hair, I'm quite hairy and I like it. And I have chest hair but barely and I just wish I had more over a greater coverage, more of a funny insecurite, lol. One more insecurity I forgot about is my voice. I'm loud when talking and my voice isn't as deep as I wish so that sucks.
(copy and paste from older write) I wish I had a father: I don't have a father or any form of father figure, I'm fatherless and it hurts a lot. My father has been out of my life since I was elevenish/twelveish (the peak of covid passed), we kicked him out because he is and was a meth addict in and out of the jail. He was a fuctioning addict so not violent and not as obvious of an addict but the meth still took him over. My mother says she kept him around and gave him so many chances because she wanted him to be in my life as a father. But he was no father when he was around, he didn't parent me, he didn't play his role as a father and guide as a masculine role model, hell he likely didn't even truly care for me. My only memories of him really are going to McDonold's with him, after which he dumpster dived behind the plaza as I begged for us to go back home. Or me wanting to bond with him so he sets up the brilliant idea of dragging me around with his skechy friends, to skechy places, even at skechy times. I don't understand why I knew sooner, guess I was a stupid basterd but I started picking up that my dad was a bad person around fifth grade. By then I quickly found out more and more and tenstion was growing, by eleven we we're going to kick him out but covid struck it's height and our household seemed palpable. But very quickly we said fuck it and threw him to the curb, we weren't going to have it no longer. Soon after around thirteen I was happy that he was gone but slightly disappointed that I no longer had a father (even if he was useless) and I hoped my mom would find someone, not only for herself but for me. By fourteen this really layed in heavy on me and the lack of a father really bummed me out, I got really stupid and desperate using bitlife to create guys then add me and my mom in to create step father famlies even adding step siblings and shit. By late fourteen it was made clear to me by my mom that "we don't need no man" and that she was done with dating. I very well do need a father figure, every child needs one. Hell I as a guy truly need(ed) one, there are so many lessons and things that come from a fatheson relationship that are crucial to a boy and I missed out on them. Hell even when my dad was around I missed out on lessons, I still remember he was tasked to teach me how to tie my shoes but got mad at me struggling and walked away. He refused to help afterward and I refused to try and never to this day learned the proper way to tie, instead I have my own far less efficent method. I missed out on so much by not having a father and it hurts to know that and I just wish I had the knowledge, without a masculine role model I have definetly missed out what it is to be a man and likely am even a loser of a man. I just want a father so badly, I want what a father provides so badly, I want the bond that it comes with. I wish I just had a guy to talk to and bond with, I want a dad just so badly. I wish I had someone who taught me how to change a tire or fish and all that shit, but I'll never have it and it angers me, I am angry to be fatherless, I am angry and lost without a father figure, and I'm jealous. I kind of want to have children when the time comes, I wonder if I'll fail them as well.
Friends: Growing up I was always a bit introverted, I think it was of my nature but was amplafied by life. In elementary I often acquainted myself with people never having any close friends outside my after school program. Jumping to middle school I had a good friend-group but it turned out my good friend T was really an ass and I was pushed out by him in early nineth grade. Later in nineth I met my good friend, my best friend M. This year in tenth I was introduced to a friend named D by M. These are my only two friends and I'm happy with them, though there are a few issues. Not anything major but just a few things, like how we never do anything outside of school. The only thing I really miss about my old friendgroup is that we actually did shit: springs, houses, events, parks, attractions, food. Now me, M and, D don't and have never done anything outside of school and the computer. M likely couldn't do anything because of his famliy and D just seems completely disinterested and worried about money. But I wish we could really do something, sure videogames are fun but it would be fun if we could just goof off somewhere, be stupid. This is really the only general "issue" apart from that no major strain or issue in the friendgroup. But I do have a few personal grievences, starting with D. I think D has a darker side of him, he seems to not respect or care for me and will sometimes show it in nasty ways. He had told both me and M to kill ourselves, he attacks insecurites, he says rude shit, etc. Also with D, we have never truly connected, never gotten to know each other personally. Without M we would be mere acquaintance, M is the only reason why me and D are friends and being alone with each other is mostly silence and maybe him showing me a TikTok. Then M, I have no personal issues with M only small factors of our friendship I'm upset or worried about. Starting off with is school, halfway through this year (tenth) M started a FLVS-hybrid. I am happy for him and it's something we both expressed wanting but now I never really see him. I could see him at lunch but he dosen't really come in and only other time I can see him is leaving campus. I ethier catch him and barely have a conversation worthwhile or he's to far ahead and I got to give up trying to reach him. The only way to talk to my best friend nowadays really is Discord, and that isn't even reliable since his parents are often controlling the WI-FI or taking his stuff away. This means when I do talk to my friend it can suddenly be ended as he disconnects or I can't even. This sucks, it feels like I can't even talk to my best friend that much. But that isn't all, because I'm worried for my friend M. His parents don't sound the best from all he's told me, I won't share his issues but just as an example he didn't have a bedroom for two months. Hearing what we gose through is alreadly dishearting but something that I worry deeply about is him talking sucide. He has talked and half joked about it several times and it's worry, I been trying to discourage but he continues with it so now I'm just trying to ignore it. That is likely the wrong way of handling it but I just don't know what to do. I hope it's always bluff and he moves out and moves on with he can, I don't want him to kill himself.
I'm lonely: I'm sixteen but I'm lonely. I am the only one of my friends who hasn't had a relationship, I am not the most worried about that, I don't want to date just to date, I want to date to love. But hell I still wish I had a relationship, even just a sterotypical high-school one. But what I truly want is true love, I want a woman I love with all my heart and a woman who loves me with all of hers, I want a woman to provide for, to protect, to matter to. I want to marry and possibly have kids. I want to love someone, be there for someone. But will I ever even have that? I'm alreadly a loser who no woman would want and even then from what I've heard, "modren dating is terrible" so what chance do I even have? Will I ever have someone to love? I hope.
School: School makes me so misereble and dead, this place makes me genuinely want to off myself I hate it so much. And it seems to revolve around my whole life, even at home it's all my mom wants to bring up. I just need a break from it all but it seems like it's the only thing in my life, I don't really have anything else. I failed my nineth grade year, I failed since I'm a stupid, worthless peice of shit. But they "passed" me onto tenth, gave me tenth grade classes, test, etc but say I'm still nineth, tell me do nineth grade "remedation" online. Now I'm failing like a worthless peice of shit once again! I wish they held me back to try again but they didn't they just pushed me on, still likely would've failed like a worthless bitch but I could have had a chance. I fucking hate myself I'm so stupid and I hate my school for pushing my stupid ass onward and onward, I should just kill myself at this point. And when I try to reach out to my counselor in any hope for some chance of help the piss poor communcation at this school means it'll take days for a response, I can't even get reliable help over school. Back in middle school I had a GPA in the high 3s, I made honor roll every other quater or so, I had high grades and sucess. But in high-school, in nineth grade I failed with straight Fs and got a GPA of 0.7, now in tenth I have a 1.7 and sometimes get high grades but mostly fail. I just wish I wasn't so stupid, I just wish I was smart and successful at school. But I'm not, I'm a fucking idiot and an embarssment at school. And maybe it would all be okay if it wasn't for the assholes I am surrounded by, my fellow peers of this overcrowded hell hole. Just seems like I can never catch a break with having to deal with people. I just want to be left alone but they're is just always somebody wanting to bother me, harass me. Can sit at a desk then have a bunch of cunts around me, harass me, call me burgundy because of my shirt. Can sit down and be snickered at by the guys in front of me for whatever reason. Sit down and have paper, pencils, even ice hitting me. Sit down and have some imbecible pull up a chair and use my desk as his and block me in my seat because fuck me, am I right? Just want to be left alone but never am, nobody ever dose it's always something. I can't even get respect, not a single bit, just always mistreated. Hell just the other day when I was given my packet I was also mistakenly given the packet of a nearby girl, I get her attention and hand it to her and she just snaches it and mumbles something, because I can't even be respected, I'm worthless. And even when I'm not being directly bothered I got to deal with slow walkers, idiots who don't know how to inconvience everyone else in the halls, the over crowded school. It all fucking sucks I hate it all, everyday I think I'm on the verge of snapping but somehow just have more patience, I don't know how much more of this shit I can or have to endure. At least my mom finally reconsidered my old forgotten pleads for online school and reopened the idea, maybe by some miracle online school will save me and "help me get caught up and ahead" but I doubt it, I'm an idiot who deserves to die. Why am I so fucking stupid, why am I like this? Why must I exist this way?
No hobbies or interest: I used to love a lot of things: reading, history, coming up with things in my head, videogames and, anything really. Now I have grown apathic to it all except videogames and even that dosen't bring much joy. I want to have my old hobbies back but lack the will to return. And I want new hobbies but yet lack will but also lacking knowing what I want to try. I'm lost with my freetime, it's all bleek and I want to fill my life with pastion. I still love videogames, always will but I need more then just gaming, I want more then gaming. I just want something, anything. I don't want to have such a lack of interest, God I fucking hate my life.
I have no future career goals: I'm sixteen and have no idea on what I want to do as an adult, some may say thats okay but it's not, not for me at least. I want to have a goal in the adult world, and even if that goal led to a path I don't like then I can always go down another path. Despite having no idea on what to do I at least know I don't want to be in an office. I could handle an office job, and be content with an office job but an office job isn't me, it isn't what sounds interesting, I would likely do blue collar or be my own boss. Some jobs I've considered and would do still are: police, SWAT police, house flipper, 911 operator, port worker, mechanic or something tinkeassemble like, enterpuner my book, film and games ideas or, open a store or bar or something. These are some jobs I've considered in the past that I would still see myself doing, I have also pondered over military/reserve but not sure. My childhood dream career that I still have a desire for is SWAT but I don't think I have what it takes, in fact I don't think I have what it takes for anything. I think all my life is destined to is dying homeless on a street corner, it's all I'll ever be "worthless".
I had so much planned, now failed: At age fourteen I planned to by now have a license, a job, a banking account, start savings. I planned to lose weight, I planned to have an idea outside of school, I had a plan. But I'm just a worthless peice of shit and a failure to myself, I don't even have a permit, no job, no savings, still fat, have no idea about the future, I failed myself.
Fidgeting: I can't stop but want to, at school I can't help but twiral a pencil around. I do it all the time at school but been trying to stop, I hate doing it. Worst part is I'm being immated by worthless cunts by it which is annoying. I want to stop this.
Masterbation addiction: I have a severe and low life addiction to masterbation. I do it at least once a day and sometimes mutiple times a day. The longest I was ever able to refrain was just a little over a week and only failed because I got bored. I need to jerk it to be able to sleep unless I'm desperately tired but even then. Also since I "need" it to sleep I regulary soil my sweatpants then sleep in it which is nasty. I can't control this vice, this low appetite and I'm deeply unhappy about it. Also unhappy that I might be ruining my endurence, a bit TMI but just another reason why this is harmful. I want to refrain or atleast drasticly cut out this pratice and fix myself.
I likely have more issues eating me inside as I waste away as a shell of a person but I can't really think of them. I am told my mom is looking into thearpy so that might be nice. Please just help me, I'm so lost and broken, I sometimes consider just ending it all but I just hope it can get good.

The primary purpose of X4 for me was mounting it on my motorbike as a 'dash cam'. I couldn't really find any yt reviews of motorbike bundle, but I think it was only natural to buy it in my case. Before I bought it I quickly scanned the contents of said bundle, however didn't put much attention what's there and oh boi, how furious I was when it actually arrived. So what I actually got:

1. Invisible stick. Sounds good, but at the time I was buying the camera that stick was included even without the bundle, so I guess I didn't really get it with the bundle, it just comes with camera.
   
2. Motorbike clamp. This is the only item I'm happy with. It's all made out of metal and holds well to the handle bar even on triple digit speeds.
   
3. This is when fun starts. I got some rubber condom that I can put over the camera when I'm not using it as the thing completely covers the lenses. I was more than sure I'll get the new lense protectors not some piece of rubber. You know, I bought motorbike bundle. I think it's only common sense to include something that will protect my camera while riding, not when it is in my pocket. I hope I won't offend anyone, but who the fuck needs it to begin with? I literally can't think of any valid scenario when would you want to put it on your camera especially that you are getting...
   
4. The case. When I opened this one I literally felt like insta360 came to my house, put dick in my mouth, cum on my face, cleaned their dick on my t-shirt and told me that I'm free to leave. The case that I've got with my motorbike bundle can store the camera (so far so good) with the black condom on (is anyone really putting the rubber on camera, then put it in the case, then in protected backpack and then jumping into that inflatable ball allowing you to roll without hurting yourself?). Second pocket is dedicated for the stick, just not the one I got with the bundle! It's for some shorter and thicker version of it! Really!? Fortunately it gets even better, because there is 3rd hole and that hole is for... Fast charger for 3 batteries that I also didn't get in my motorbike bundle!!! What the actual fuck!? Who decided it's a great thing to include the case with a bundle that (except camera) has no items that can fit in said case!? What a marketing genius was it!?
   

To summarise, I spent extra £100 on a bundle that includes one useful item that you can buy separately on insta360 website for £40!
Update: I just went on insta360 website to check how much the clamp on its own is and had a look at that motorbike bundle once again and saw that I actually should get the protectors as well, so they simply didn't send me them! Tomorrow I gonna message them about this and we will see what they gonna say as I did buy the camera good 3-4 weeks ago...

I'm pretty sure I'm going to be dead in the next 24 hours.
Whether that's the Costella family, or whatever this is, I'm not sure.
The police are taking forever, and part of me knows they're either refusing to believe me, or RC got them too.
I'm holed up on our school bus, so I've got nothing better to do.
I want to tell you about my team.
We met in our sophomore year.
Strangers standing outside the club room.
Levi was the freckled brunette who wouldn't stop talking about Game of Thrones.
Sunny, a pretty redhead, told him to shut up.
Tom, a sandy blonde, nodding his head to music corked in his ears.
I just wanted to be part of a club, and get away from my overbearing mother.
I won't say it was a perfect start. Our school was lacking in funding, so anyone could join, which made us more of a Quiz Club. I had some serious anxiety, so I stayed on the sidelines for a while, watching, rather than taking part.
It's not like we actually talked to each other initially. The first few weeks, we played Jeopardy, and attempted to find more members to cement us as an official Academic Decathlon club.
Unfortunately, though, it was just the four of us.
Which made it extremely hard for us to be taken seriously.
According to Google, Academic Decathlon teams were made up of nine members, placed by their GPA.
Our principal laughed at us, but he did let us become official.
Which was out of pity, I assumed.
The club was assembled, and we started meeting up after school.
Sort of.
Sunny barely showed up, and Levi didn't take anything seriously, preferring to spend the time telling us about his weird family turf-war.
Our principal dumped us in a tiny classroom with a resident rat living under the floorboards.
There was barely enough room to move, and the four of us crammed together for three hours was less than appealing.
Still, though, I wanted to be part of a club.
I had grown up with parents who were obsessed with board games, so I was pretty good at general knowledge questions. Our club room was too small for anything else but three desks (Sunny and I shared one) and a whiteboard we had to shove through the door.
But, again, we didn't start as an Academic club.
It was more akin to Story Time Club.
Arriving late on my third day, armed with quiz cards from home, I found Tom and Sunny completely mesmerised by Levi’s storytelling skills, drowned in shadow.
They didn't even turn the lights on.
I strictly remember squeezing next to Sunny, and hearing the words, “But there was so much blood all over the floor, and my Mom told me to go upstairs and hide under the bed…”
Sitting in front of them was Levi, perched on a desk, his legs swinging, a whiteboard marker between his teeth.
Sometimes he'd get up, and illustrate parts of his story.
It sucked that his drawings were all stick people.
I won't go into full details of his life, but Levi grew up as part of a family who had… interesting methods of making a living. I had seen the guy’s father multiple times when we hung out at his place, and, yeah, my friend’s family definitely had Soprano vibes.
Levi’s Draw My Life was nothing to do with the club, but it did bring us closer.
Even if, at that point, I was considering leaving.
But it's not like it was easy to walk away from these guys. It's like finding your soulmates. Levi wasn't the only one with an interesting life. Sunny Lang was an ex kpop trainee, who was kicked out for being too fat, which led her to develop a severe eating disorder, and a hatred for her own body.
Sunny explained her family were originally from Boston, her mother growing up in Korea.
She signed up for an idol agency focusing on creating a new girl group, and had gotten all the way to the final stages, before being kicked for her weight. Sunny told us her story with a smile, though there was a hollowness in her eyes I couldn't ignore. The other girls were judgemental bullies, and the idol diet and brutal regime almost killed her.
Sunny lived in a tiny apartment with 9 girls, who would tear each other apart for a chance to debut. Sunny said all the other girls debuted, and when we (not so patiently) asked for names, she shrugged, admitting she signed an NDA that prevented her spilling the beans.
What she did say, was the K-pop idol is a product, not a person– and are made and moulded into a product.
She had zero interest in throwing her humanity away to become a manufactured doll.
So, one of us was the son of an underground family, and the other was an ex idol.
Tom was an aspiring horror writer with a famous older step-brother.
His story times were usually, That one time I went to the Met Gala.
When it was my turn to reveal my story, I told them the only interesting thing about me.
I could smell when something bad was going to happen.
They laughed, but I was being serious.
When I was a kid, I smelled my mother’s brain tumor.
I remember it smelled like curdled milk.
I asked Mom why her head smelled of mouldy milk, and Mom laughed and said it was her shampoo.
It was actually a grade two tumor growing inside her brain.
Thankfully, the tumour was found quickly and removed.
Growing older, I became sensitive to smell. The little girl choking on the bus smelled of singed wood, and the old man crossing the road stunk of gasoline.
In the fourth grade, my classmate Alex Castor smelled of lemons all morning.
I sat behind him, choking on the stink all the way through class.
Ever since I met him, Alex had always smelled… off.
It was a distinct smell I could never understand, and as the days and months and years went by, that smell morphed into a subtle orangey musk that was so strong I had to cover my mouth and nose. Then, he smelled like lemons.
During Recess, I watched Alex fall off of the jungle gym, straight onto his head.
Alex Castor was dead before the paramedics arrived, my panicked teacher attempting CPR when his brains were leaking out of his ears.
The school claimed it was an accident, but Alex would have been fine if the jungle gym wasn't built on solid concrete.
I told my team members this, and Levi was sceptical.
“You can smell bad things?” He said, his lips curved around his milkshake straw. In the early days, we hung out in the local bar. It's not like we were allowed inside, but Levi could get us in anywhere.
I was squeezed between Tom and Sunny, while Levi took the seat opposite us. I couldn't help noticing our waitress was insisting on free milkshake refills, her frantic eyes glued to Levi.
I had zero idea why. Levi Costella was about as intimidating as a fruit fly.
Wearing a white shirt with a popped collar, a leather jacket thrown over the top, Levi was giving rebellious Harvard student, rather than son of a crime family.
Leaning forward, he raised a brow, clearly not believing me.
“So, you're like a stink psychic?”
I shrugged, sipping my own shake.
“Sure.”
I wasn't planning on telling him the club room smelled off on our first day.
Once we actually started the club, Levi surprised us as the smartest member, and getting to know him further, I came to the realization his family were infamous in our town.
However, his parents hid it well. Lucy and Michael Costella were the owners of a popular ramen store in our town, hiding under the facade of two successful business owners. The Costella’s were an attractive family.
Lucy was a sophisticated brunette with a lipstick smile, Michael, a handsome fluffy haired man who looked like he modelled glasses.
The two were fiercely protective over their youngest son, not so casually reminding us behind grinning smiles, that if anything happened to Levi, we would automatically be involved in the family.
I mean, they did laugh and say, “We’re joking! Look at your little faces!” when Sunny went deathly pale. But there was definitely truth behind their words.
Being Levi’s friend was… challenging at first.
Tom and I were in his room studying for finals, and an alarm went off, flooding Levi’s room in red light.
I had zero idea where it was coming from, but it locked all the doors and windows, forcing the Costella residence into temporary lockdown. Levi didn't seem fazed, casually mentioning his parents were taking care of it.
He had a whiteboard set up in his room, and was standing in front of it, cramming all of our textbook notes into one easily digestible drawing.
Levi wasn't just smart.
He was Ivy League smart, so we had struck gold with him.
His family were questionable, and yes, sometimes I did fear for my life, but as the more time we spent at his house, the Costella household became a second home. We got used to the alarms.
I just brought along ear plugs.
I wish I was writing this post about Levi’s family, and sure, they are a factor in what is going on right now, but I want to preface this by saying the events below involve the 2024 scholastic decathlon final in our town with the school’s listed:
Starbrook High School.
Ratcliffe High School.
Please note, the incident that took place last night was immediately covered up, and all phone footage was destroyed. Our town is mostly out of the way, and does not show up on Google searches.
We also have our own version of the academic decathlon, which is a more town-level competition, due to lacking funds. The four of us were desperate to start competing with our schools.
So, we started taking things a little more seriously.
We got a coach.
Mr Hanes, who was hesitant at first.
In his words, “You will hate me as your coach.”
He started by recruiting more members, announcing, “If you want to be taken seriously as an actual club, then I'll be taking the reins from now on.”
He did, and with our teachers guidance (and sometimes brutal honesty), we reached a level where we could start competing with other school’s in town. Now, none of us knew this, but Mr Hanes was obsessed with winning.
So, club meetings were twisted into two hour study sessions with no talking, followed by Mr Hanes Jeaprody, which was Jeaprody, without the actual fun.
We were quizzed multiple times, answer cards and practise questions quite literally thrown directly in our faces.
I hate to admit this (I really hate to admit this) but Mr Hanes’s tactics worked. Sure, we had been mildly brainwashed by our slightly unhinged coach, but with Levi Costella, we destroyed our competitors. Like I said, our town held their own version of the academic scholastic decathlon, but it was pretty much the same, with some changes.
Ten subjects. Language and Literature, Math, Social Science, Economics, Art, Music, Interview, Speech, and Essay.
Unlike the official Decathlon, ours was more like a game show, with the ability to be knocked out if a team member answers a question wrong. Whoever answers the most questions correctly wins. Team meet ups were either tests, study sessions, or quizzing each other.
Which leads me to last night.
The finals were held in the reigning champions, Ratcliffe High School’s, auditorium.
And we were about to win our town’s Scholastic Decathlon 2024 Championships.
Well…I was knocked out in the music section. Standing next to my coach who I was sure was going to asphyxiate from excitement, I could smell the sudden potent stink of lemon. I tried to ignore it at first, but the more questions my team were answering correctly, the smell got worse, suffocating my senses.
This wasn't just lemon. The stink was like a burning, singing smell trickling into my nose and the back of my throat.
It was stronger than what Alex smelled like.
This was suffocating, drowning my thoughts.
“Are you okay, Cassandra?”
Mr Hanes nudged me when a Ratcliffe girl was struggling to answer a question, only for Sunny to jump in with the answer. “You look quite pale.”
I nodded, forcing a smile.
My gaze was on the Ratcliffe coach, a scary looking blonde woman, whispering in one of her student’s ears.
The Ratcliffe kid freaked me out. He was way too tall, dark blonde hair, and bulging eyes I swear were not blinking.
His gaze was glued to Levi, who wore a smug grin.
There was a smaller girl next to the Ratcliffe kid, a Macbook balanced on her knee. Every so often, he leaned into her, the two of them in deep conversation.
“I'm just nervous.”
I jumped when Ratcliffe scored a point, their side erupting into cheers.
During the break, we had a mini team meeting.
Sunny rushed to the bathroom to freshen up, and I noticed a Ratcliffe girl with a bouncing ponytail following her.
Ignoring our coach’s speech, I joined the two girls in the corridor, that lemony scent hanging thick in the air.
I caught them in an awkward position.
The Ratcliffe girl had her fingers pinched between the material of Sunny’s dark blue shirt bearing our school’s name.
Sunny looked confused, her lips parted like she was going to yell.
Ponytail dropped her hand, suddenly, with a nervous laugh. “Oh! I'm so, so, sorry,” she gushed. “You had, like, the biggest spider crawling on your back.”
Sunny caught my eye, shooting me a reassuring smile.
“Thanks.” She made sure to keep her distance. “Uh, where's your bathroom?”
The Ratcliffe girl nodded down the hallway. “It's just down there. I'm going there too if you want me to show you?”
Sunny motioned for me to go back to the auditorium. “Uh, sure! That'd be great!”
I did try to follow them, only for Sunny to cough loudly.
I took the hint, reluctantly heading back into the auditorium.
My team was hyping each other up, Levi in the centre, sweating through his team shirt. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. “I can't do this,” He groaned. “Ratcliffe High is known to play dirty, man. They're unbeatable.”
“In what way do they play dirty?” I asked, joining them.
Levi gulped down water, shrugging.
“I dunno! They're already trying to distract me with the stink eye.” The boy narrowed his eyes at a grinning Ratcliffe kid who, after noticing our stares, jumped to his feet, waving at us.
“Hey guys!”
“That's Harry Cartwright, the son of the Cartwright family who tried to kill my parents in the third grade.” Levi mockingly waved back. “As you can see, their kid is a fucking sociopath.”
Huh. I wasn't expecting the smiley kid to be the mobster’s son.
Harry Cartwright was not what I expected.
Unlike his team members, he was the only one in casual clothing, a short sleeved white shirt and jeans, a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head.
Tom went pale.
“Fuck.” He hissed. “He’s one of you? Then those bastards will have a reason to play dirty, right?”
Levi shrugged, averting his gaze. It was the first time I saw his eyes darken, like he was subtly telling the boy to back off.
“The Cartwright’s have been trying to buy our land for a while,” he muttered. “I wouldn't put it past them to use the Decathlon as a way to attack.”
“Attack?!” April, another member of our team, hissed. “Like, attack attack?”
Mr Hanes grabbed the boy, resting his hands on Levi’s shoulders. “Ignore them,” he said. “Hey. Look at me.”
Levi did, raising a brow.
“You're losing that spark in your eye, young man.”
“Spark?”
Our coach nodded. “Look at me, kid.”
Levi rolled his eyes. “I am looking at you, Mr Hanes.”
The man was shaking. I was guessing his whole career (or coaching career) was on the line.
“They know they're losing, Mr Costella.”
Hanes shook the boy, squeezing his shoulders. “You are being positive and Ratcliffe doesn't like that. They want you to be nervous. They want to make you second guess yourself and lose confidence. Don't let them get into your head.” he smiled, giving the boy a playful shove. “Kick their asses.”
“Exactly!”
I didn't realize Sunny was back from the bathroom.
The faint smell of lemons had followed her. I noticed a wet patch on her shirt collar, though she was quick to smile at me, admitting she'd spilled water down herself. Sunny wrapped her arms around Levi, squeezing him into a hug.
She hung on for a little too long, Tom dragging her away with a laugh. “Good luck, all right?” she backed away, ruffling his hair. “We’ve got this!”
When I hugged Levi good luck too, I had to resist covering my nose.
The smell of lemon was unbearable, just like fourth grade Alex.
But it wasn't as potent as earlier.
I vaguely remembered the smell starting to fade once Alex’s body was being carted away on a stretcher.
Following my captain through the crowd, I was right. The smell was less suffocating. Before he went back to the stage, I grabbed the back of his shirt.
The material was soaking wet.
“How are you so wet?” I said, swiping my hands on my shirt.
“Huh?”
I shook my head. “Never mind. Do you remember what I told you in sophomore year?”
Levi settled me with a confident, but nervous smile. “Thaaaat you're scared of clowns?”
“No. I mean the boy who smelled of lemons.” I gritted out.
Levi surprised me with a laugh. “What are you talking about?”
Something ice cold trickled down my spine.
Levi did know what I was talking about. He brought up my stink sense a day earlier in front of his parents, and I had to cover his mouth to shut him up.
Leaning close, I whispered in his ear. “You stink of rotten lemons.”
He nodded slowly, pulling away. “Uh… thanks?”
I bit back a hiss of frustration. “No, you don't understand what I'm saying–”
“Starbrooke High School,” The host announced. “Can all members please return to the stage.”
Levi held up his hand for a high five.
“Can we do this later?” He winked. “I'm kinda busy carrying this spelling-bee on my back right now.”
I nodded shakily, high fiving him, and letting him jump back onto the stage.
Before his words hit like a tidal wave, ice cold water slammed into me.
Spelling Bee?
Slowly making my way back to the stands, Levi’s mistake was circling around my head. He did win a spelling bee, but that was in middle school.
Thankfully, the smell of lemons was gone when I returned to my seat.
Mr Hanes handed me a soda. “Chill out, Cassandera, it's just a game.”
He could talk. The guy was on his fifth coffee.
Mr Hanes was not chilled out in the slightest.
Surprisingly, the event went well. I was half expecting my team to be crushed by the rafters, or caught in a blaze started in the crowd. But we were doing well. No, we were winning.
Reaching the climaxing round, Sunny choked against a smug Ratcliffe boy, joining me on the sidelines.
Levi answered the next question with a confident smile.
We were winning, but Ratcliffe could still catch up with a miracle.
The second to last question was to Ratcliffe, and it was general knowledge.
”Where on the human body would one find the *orbit?*
I knew the answer, and so did Levi, his lips breaking out into a smile when the Ratcliffe boy was hesitating, eyes wide.
Our school’s buzzer went off, Levi slamming his hand down.
Bzzz!
The host turned to our team. “Starbrooke, can I have your answer?”
Levi nodded, shooting our team a victory grin.
“It's…!“ He opened his mouth to answer, his jaw slackening suddenly.
The boy’s shoulders slumped.
“Uh… “
“Um…”
“Huhhhhh…”
Levi inclined his head, blinking, his eyes glazing over. There was a sudden, hollow vacancy that sent chills down my spine. It was like someone had reached into his skull, and yanked out his brain, leaving a shell in his place.
To my confusion, our team captain frowned at his buzzer like he'd never seen one before. He pressed it, exploding into child-like giggles.
Bzzz!
The audience laughed along nervously.
Tom nudged me. “What the fuck is he doing?”
Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz!
Levi’s entire body was slumped, his hand slamming down on the buzzer.
I caught something pooling down his chin.
“Is he… drooling?” I whispered.
Mr Hanes looked mildly horrified. “Has he been drinking?
“Levi?” Tom spluttered. “Drinking?!"
Whatever we were watching, however, was definitely influenced by… something.
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz!
“Young man, that is not a toy!”
The host wasn't amused. “Starbrooke High School, I need an answer from you,” He nodded to Levi, who was pressing the buzzer, his smile growing.
“Once again,” The host backed away, like Levi was contagious. “Where on the human body would one find the Orbit?”
Levi cocked his head, lips parted.
His gaze found the overhead lights, and he winced, his lips curling into a frown.
“Starbrooke High School!”
Levi jumped, tipping his head back and blowing a raspberry. “Palm tree?”
The audience laughed, and I started feeling nauseous.
Across from us, I could see the twist of a smirk on the Ratcliffe coach’s lips.
Bzzz! Levi slammed the buzzer again giggling.
“Starbrooke High School, if your team member continues to act like this, I will be forced to disqualify all members.”
Our captain stopped, gaze glued to the host, his hand creeping towards the buzzer, like it was a big red button.
The audience loved it, laughing like they were watching a sitcom.
“He wouldn't.” Tom whisper-shrieked.
The auditorium was silent for a moment, awaiting Starbrooke’s response.
Levi stuck out his tongue, slamming his hand down.
Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz–
When Tom dragged Levi away from his podium, a Ratcliffe girl hit her buzzer.
“Starbrooke High School, you are disqualified,” the host announced. “Ratcliffe High School, do you have an answer?”
It was Ponytail who nodded with a grin.
“The answer is the eye socket! The Orbit is part of the eye socket!”
“That is the correct answer.” The host was distracted, his eyes glued to Levi.
“Ratcliffe High School wins.”
Levi jumped when the Ratcliffe wide erupted into cheers.
His eyes were wide, clinging onto the buzzer for comfort.
Next to me, our coach looked like he was going to faint.
I barely noticed Ratcliffe’s victory, too busy watching our team captain, who was Harvard bound, tipping his head back and smiling at the ceiling like a new-born baby. Tom dragged the stumbling boy over to me, his mouth twisted.
“This was Ratcliffe, right?” He hissed, shaking our captain, who was struggling, squirming in his grip.
“Did they put something in his drink?!” He prodded Levi. “Hey! What did they do to you?!”
Still, though, drugging his drink didn't make sense.
Levi never left the auditorium, and kept his water bottle with him the whole time.
How did they even manage to slip something into his drink in the first place?
Did I smell our competitors drugging him?
Sure, intentionally inebriating my teammate was morally wrong and illegal, but why could I smell lemon?
“I doubt it was Ratcliffe.” Sunny squeezed next to me. “I've been watching them. They're harmless.”
“Then how the fuck do we explain this to his parents?!” Tom whispered, grappling with Levi, who was fighting to get back to the buzzer.
When Tom let go of him, he dropped onto the floor, crawling over to his podium. It was like watching a child.
Who was determined to piss off the adults.
Levi jumped back to instead feet, his gaze was glued to the host, a smile curved on his lips, when he slammed the buzzer again.
Bzzz!
“Someone, please remove the Starbrooke boy from the stage!”
I was embarrassed, our whole team ducking our heads as our captain was forcibly removed from the podium.
Mr Hanes grabbed Levi, pulling him off of the stage.
I expected our coach to be mad at him, but I think the teacher was more worried, a phone pressed to his ear while he forced the boy into a sitting position.
No, I don't think it's influence from alcohol, I could hear his conversation.
Levi kept trying to get up, mesmerised by the buzzer. The teacher was firm but gentle. “Hey. Sit down, all right? Keep still.” He went back to his phone call, gently prying Levi’s eyes open.
From what I can see, there's nothing wrong. He's just kind of…
Mr Hanes swiped his own hands on his jeans. ... wet?
Team Ratcliffe came over to rub it in our faces, though I was still tuned into our coach’s hissed whispering.
Water? No, I don't think it's water. It smells… no, I haven't told his parents…
“You guys did awesome!” Ponytail's voice was sugary sweet. Too sugary.
She held the 2024 trophy, bearing a satisfied smile. I noticed the Ratcliffe members were surrounding Harry, like guards.
“Better luck next time, okay?” She held out her hand, her eyes twinkling.
“No hard feelings?”
“Control your dog.” Harry said, amused eyes flicking to Levi, who was once again sprinting back to the fucking buzzer. His eyes had visibly darkened, lips curled into a triumphant smile.
Harry Cartwright was watching Mr Hanes chase our team captain like it was his own personal entertainment.
I had to look away before I died of second hand embarrassment.
“What did you put in his drink?” Tom demanded. “Weed? Edibles?” the boy attempted to shove Harry, only to be pushed back. “What the fuck did you do to him?”
Harry’s smile didn't waver. “Like I said. Control your mut.”
When the Ratcliffe team walked away, our red faced coach struggling with Levi, who was behaving progressively more erratically, informed us we were longer welcome inside the school.
Tom suggested calling an ambulance, but our coach was hesitant.
We all knew who Levi’s family were.
On the way out, Tom matched my stride. He was frowning at our team captain struggling to walk.
The way he was acting was already eyebrow raising.
But walking at an angle and being unable to stand up straight was worrying.
“I don't think they drugged his drink.” Tom muttered.
We pushed through the doors out of the school, and I revelled in the cool night air grazing my cheek. “If they did, he would be acting out of it, right? So, what's the deal with him acting like–”
“A child.” I finished for him.
“Yeah.” Tom leaned closer. “Do you think this has something to do with their turf war?”
I slapped at a bug creeping across my cheek.
Levi fell over again, this time bursting into giggles.
“Almost definitely.”
Levi was right about Ratcliffe playing dirty. I didn't realize how dirty until we were on the losers bus home. Levi was in the seat next to me, and the kid hadn't moved since we left Ratcliffe, his eyes wide, lips pulled into a dazed grin.
Bzzz!
The noise startled me from slumber. I was drooling, my head pressed against the window. Outside, the sky was pitch dark, and squinting through the glass, I couldn't get a bearing on where we were. I thought I was hearing things, but when I sat up, I heard it again.
Bzzz!
It was close.
Leaning over the boy, I glimpsed a smear of scarlet on his headrest.
I choked on my next words.
“Tom.”
Tom was in front of me, listening to music.
He didn't reply, his head of dark blonde curls nodding to the beat.
“Levi.” I managed to get out. I prodded him, and his head lolled into his shoulder. “Hey. Can you… sit up?”
Bzzz! Bzzz!
When the boy didn't move, I gently grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward myself, something contracting in my stomach.
I don't know how long it takes for your mind to fully register something, but my body was already reacting.
Levi’s seat was infested with bugs, eating their way through the upholstery. I was aware of my body moving back. I threw up, instantly, screaming into my hand.
The back of my best friend's skull resembled a deflated soccer ball, what was left of his brain leaking from his skull where a swarm of skittering bugs chewed their way through brain tissue, metallic legs scratching the curved, pearly white of the base if his skull.
Levi’s head hung, his body flopping into mine.
But his eyes were still open, lips still stretched into a smile.
Blood ran in thick rivulets from his nose and ears.
Bzzz!
I could see them, black writhing dots alive in his eyes, wriggling movement under his skin.
“Tom!”
I jumped up, stumbling into the aisle, my stomach heaving.
And it was only when I was on my knees, swiping bile from my lips, when I realized the others weren't reacting.
Tom wasn't moving.
I pulled an Airpod out of his ear, a long, slithering string of pink attached to the end.
There was a stray bug skittering across his hand, his face starting to twitch and writhe.
Moving back, I checked myself over, my hands shaking.
Head.
Shoulders.
Hair.
Clawing through it, my breath was stuck in my throat.
Arms.
Legs.
Feet.
Mr Hanes was slumped against the window, a reddish froth bubbling from his mouth.
Sunny.
I started towards the back of the bus, but all I had to see was her bowed head, half of her skull chewed through.
Sunny was in a far more deteriorated state, her face had been ripped through, a skeletal smile glinting in the dim.
The thick black smear on the window next to her was moving.
When I screamed for the driver to stop the bus, he ignored me.
If anything, he stamped on the gas.
I moved forward to shake him, before glimpsing a bug creeping down his face.
Calling 911, the operator laughed at me.
“Bugs are eating your friends.” He said. “Do you know the penalty for calling with bullshit pranks?”
The bus didn't stop, so I stayed at the front, while the bugs took over the back, eating through my teammates.
After four hours, I risked leaning over the seat next to Tom to check on Levi.
They were eating him.
Chewing all the way through skin, muscle and bone.
I tried to stop the bus, but the driver’s hands were tightly wrapped around the wheel.
Another hour, and blood was seeping down the aisle, crawling with bugs.
Levi was gone, and in his place, a buzzing skittering pile of bugs, that I thought were going to move to a second victim, maybe burrowing into the seats.
But, no.
These things began to tremble, replicating.
Building.
Slowly, nothing became static, and static became muscle.
Then bone.
Then flesh.
When a body began to slowly form, moulded from the dead boy, I stumbled back.
These things weren't eating Levi Costella.
They were rewriting him.
…
Edit: I'm still on the bus. I'm 99.9% sure that I'm infected with whatever this thing is. I can't stop fucking itching.
I keep picking them off me but they won't stop. This bus isn't going to stop until I'm like the others.
…
Edit 2:
I can feel them chewing into my skull. They're in my ears. I keep spitting them out. Please, someone get them off of me. Help me. I don't want to die at 17.
Edit 3:
Still alive. Still breathing. Maybe they're leaving me alone????? I think I'm okay. There is a pile of bugs at my feet, but they're crawling off of me.
Edit 4:
Levi really wants to go home. Like, he just told me he REALLY wants to go home. He's got a gift for his parents.
~~Edit 5 :) ~~
Levi is next to me right now, an odd smile on his face.
The bugs are not finished building him yet, but he'll be ready soon.
We will be ready soon.
Your son says hello! He is a wonderful boy, is he not?
Mr and Mrs Costella, I cannot wait for you to meet him.
He is our greatest achievement, and rest assured, you will give us what we want.
Warm regards.
The Cartwright's.

Below is the opening to my solo playthrough of Phandelver and Below. I've never played the module, but I was introduced to D&D through one of it's many actual plays, and I've always wanted to play the story myself. I thought it would be fun to use my semi-familiarity with the story to run a solo game, allowing me to simultaneously practice my writing. The opening is meant to detail how the Wave Echo Cave was found by the Rockseeker brothers, and explain why my characters are willing to help old Gundren. Below you'll find my version of how the cave was rediscovered and get introduced to my first PC, a young gnome with dreams of becoming a wizard, Erkyfrune 'Kyfrune' Filkor. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!
​
The Lost Mine of Phandelver
A Solo-Play RPG
Nundro Finds the Cave
Gundren Rockseeker finalized his order with Umphrey Baggort’s General Goods shortly before the midday bell. He had a few hours before he’d be meeting Sildar at The Widow’s Tankard to go over their planned route one last time. They were to leave for Phandalin in the morning. There he would reunite with his brothers, Nundro and Thardin, and return to Wave Echo Cave.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He still found it hard to believe they had found it. Five-hundred years it remained hidden, and all it had taken to locate it was Nundro’s constant clumsiness. He’d tripped, seemingly over nothing, and rolled down the side of a cliff, crashing to a stop amongst an outcropping of large boulders. Gundrin and Thardin had rushed down to him, only to find Nundro laughing like a madman, the dripping blood from his broken nose smearing across his mouth and beard, making him look like a cannibalistic court jester.
“Listen!” He’d shouted, blood spraying from his lips. “The waves! Do you hear them?!”
Gundren, sure Nundro had finally cracked his head one too many times, was hearing nothing more than the sloshing of his own addled brains, but Thardin lowered himself to the stoney ground and pushed his ears against the boulders.
“He’s right, Gundren,” Thardin said, ear still pressed against the large stone, “It’s as if the very Shining Sea were trapped underfoot.”
Nundro stood there, smiling, dripping blood into the dust and stone. “Wave Echo Cave,” He whispered, “It’s ours!”
They’d camped there amongst the boulders, using their picks and shovels to chip away the ground around one of the boulders enough to get their pry bars wedged solidly underneath. It took all three of them, hanging and hopping from the bar like the rumored monkeys of Chult, but they managed to shift it enough that gravity took hold and yanked the giant stone down the embankment, where it shattered amongst the less regal hills surrounding the eastern edges of Phandalin.
It took all of the next day to clear away enough of the stoney ground to reveal the small tunnel entrance that had been buried beneath rubble, rock, and passing time. The sounds of crashing waves seemed enormous in the silence surrounding them.
“We can’t simply walk into there with lanterns and a few day’s rations,” Thardin had said. “We’ll need to set up an excavation camp, which will require a trip back to Neverwinter.”
None of the brothers wanted to leave, but Gundren and Thardin agreed Nundro deserved to stay, being the true locator of the legendary site. They flipped a coin. Thardin won, and Gundrin left the next morning for Neverwinter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He’d gotten nearly everything prepared for his departure. There was just one final order of business to take care of, adventurers willing to see the wagon safely to Barthen’s Provisions. And, if they proved capable and loyal, perhaps they could be hired on to clear out the cave on the inevitable creatures that had occupied it during its many forgotten years.
He listened as the final ring of the city bells reverberated into silence, then turned north, heading towards Filkor’s Gadgets and Repairs. There he knew he would find at least one willing adventurer, assuming the boy’s father would let him leave the safety of the shop.
Kyfrune
Erkyfrune Filkor sipped his tea while his father adjusted the small spring in his latest iteration of a years-long obsession.
“I’m telling you Erky, I am this close to figuring it out.” His father, Erkaline, said. The it in question being a nail clipper capable of transforming itself to meet the varying needs of any fingernail, claw, or talon. “Once I finally figure it out, we can move out of this dump and into a properly respectable district. It’s not right for the descendants of Elisytris Filkor to be living in squalor. He was quintessential to the Forge of Spells, you know!”
Erkyfrune, Kyfrune to anyone besides his father, knew this very well. He’d heard the story more times than he could count. Who knew if there was any truth in it, but he loved his father, and feigned interest again, if just so he would be able to concentrate on the story and let his fingers work their talented tinker’s magic.
His father was just getting to the part where Great-Grandfather Elisytris single-handedly took on a trio of raiding bandits and their evil wizard overseer when the three bells above the storefront sounded, signaling a customer, one Kyfrune and Erkaline knew well. Gundren and his brothers had been coming to them for years, always in need of some intricate tool or another to assist in a prospecting project. Kyfrune had always felt a spark of envy for their adventurous life, delving into the ruins of the past for lost treasures and tomes. The latter interested him in particular, for even though his father disapproved, Kyfrune wanted nothing more than to learn the mysteries of Mystra and her magical weave that permeated the very fabrics of reality. Already he’d learned a few spells, and had even recently conjured his first familiar, a celestial wolf spider, he lovingly referred to as Walter.
“Couldn’t you have conjured something less…disgusting? A cat would have at least had fur.” His father had grumbled when Kyfrune had shown him his new magical pet.
“Walter has fur,” Kyfrune had argued.
“Nothing with eight legs should have fur,” his father had replied, shaking his head and returning to one of his seemingly infinite projects. “You should focus more on your craft. One day, you’ll be the Filkor that the sign out front is referring to.”
Kyfrune wasn’t a terrible tinker, but he’d never be capable of the wonders his father could produce. Besides, tinkering was Erkaline’s thing. He never said this, of course. Being a good son was just as important to Kyfrune as learning to bend the energies of the multiverse to his whim.
“Gundren! What can I do for you my friend?” Erkaline asked, removing the magnifying glasses he wore when working. “Need some more of those explosive crickets? How’d that first batch work for you?”
“Howdy Mr. Filkor, Kyfrune, everything going well I hope?” Gundren asked, removing the floppy hat he’d always worn since Kyfrune had known him.
“Can’t say I can complain, anything that’s wrong I just haven’t gotten round to fixin’ yet, and what can’t be fixed, can be made anew” His father laughed at this old joke, and Gundren, the kind patron he was, laughed along as well, even though he’d heard this one probably every time he’d come to the shop.
“Too true Mr. Filkor, your capable hands are powered by an even more capable mind. I, ah, am not actually here for any services you’d normally provide. I’m actually wanting to offer Kyfrune a small job,” Gundren turns to the younger gnome, “I’ve heard you’ve a decent grasp of the weave, any truth in those rumors?”
Kyfrune, bringing the cup of tea to his mouth for another sip, was caught off guard by the unexpected question, and spilled most of his remaining tea over his work shirt. Rather than answer Gundren, which his ever-present social awkwardness would have caused him to stammer meekly through, he waved his hands over his sodden shirt and muttered a simple incantation. The tea, lemon ginger with lots of honey, simply faded, leaving his shirt dry and spotless.
“That’s quite the trick, any bandits or goblins with brains in their skulls would run screaming from such deadly powers,” Gundren laughed, not unkindly. “Seriously Kyf, do you think you could provide protection for a wagon of supplies I’ve ordered? It’s not going far, just down the High Road a ways and east along the Triboar Trail, to a small settlement called Phandalin. It’d need to be brought to a gentleman named Barthen. He owns Barthen’s Provisions, and will pay you 10 gold once you’ve delivered the wagon. Normally I’d go with it myself, but I’ve got to meet Nundro and Thardin as soon as possible,” he leans closer and whispers, “We’ve found something. Something pretty big. If you do well with the wagon, maybe I could bring you in on the excavation of a legendary site, thought to be lost to time.”
“You can’t mean-” Erkaline began, but Gundren cut him off with a curt wave.
“Best not to speak of anything now. Ears and eyes are known to be anywhere, and I’m not wanting any competition. What do you say Mr. Filkor, can you spare young Kyfrune for a week or so, two out the most?”
Kyfrune looked to his father, who rubbed his large nose and pulled at his forked beard, largely white now, with only a few streaks of the once inky black that had been its original color. He wasn’t going to beg or plead. He loved his father, and would do as he bid, but oh sweet Mystra, please let him say yes.
“I suppose, if you can promise it’d be no more than a week or so, I could spare my apprentice,” his father began, then turned to Kyfrune, “But Erkyfrune, you listen and listen good. I never liked your messing with this magic nonsense, but I understood your youth. Consider this your pilgrimage into the world of adventure. Upon your return, I expect you to set aside these childish fancies and start putting the work in that is necessary for you to take over the shop. Agreed?”
Kyfrune’s heart somehow managed to soar and plummet at the same time, leaving him with a momentary feeling of unsteadiness. To finally be given approval to venture forth into the world, a world that wanted him to wield his magical abilities, only to have the approval tethered to a promise to walk away from his dream. His father’s serious eyes looked at him expectantly.
“Yes, Father. Your terms are agreeable, and I thank you for allowing me to experience an adventure before settling into my destined path.”
His father’s gaze faltered momentarily, but he quickly regained his composure, turning to Gundren, “Well Gundren, it would seem you have yourself a wizard. You’re not planning on sending my boy out on the road alone are you?”
“Of course not, sir. He’ll be accompanied by at least two more souls, although I’m not sure of who they are as of yet.”
Erkaline smiled, “I’m sure the great city of Neverwinter will provide you with a couple more adventurers for your quest.”
Gundren nodded, then placed his hat upon his head. “I’ll need Kyfrune at The Widow’s Tankard by ninth bell,” he looked to Kyfrune, “ I’ll have the contract ready and’ll buy you dinner. I’ll show you the route you’ll need to take, and, perhaps, I’ll fill you in on more of the details.” His eyes glinted with excitement. “Be well Mr. Finkor,” he said, then walked out the door. The three bells above the door sounded very loud in the quiet shop. Kyfrune turned to his father, who was putting the magnifying glasses back into position and settling himself at his workbench.
“I suppose I should pack my things,” he said.
“I suppose you should son,” Erkaline looked up from the nail clippers that he hoped would change his and his son’s lot in life, “Be careful, okay. Take in the world, experience your adventure, heck, shoot off some of those spells you know, but please, be careful.”
Kyfrune walked around the bench and hugged his father tightly, then walked upstairs to his small room to pack. He’d never felt more excited in his entire life.

During the course of my career as an alpha Sasquatch hunting, Dogman destroying, pussy crushing, luxury watch loving dude, I have run into this particular woman a few times. She is one part uber sensuality, and the other part deadly. Yes, I am speaking about the lovely, Anna Conda. I bring her up because I had another run-in with her last year.

Anna and I first joined forces, so to speak, when she acted as a go-between in my business deal with the Chinese to sell them bigfoot parts. See, I would hunt and kill the critters, cut them up, deliver the parts to Anna, who in turn gave me a suitcase containing unmarked American hundred-dollar bills, then she would transport the bigfoot parts to the Chinese. I was never really sure of what the sneaky-ass Chinese were doing with the body parts. All I knew for sure is that they are extracting certain materials from them, then synthesizing them with some other shit, creating some sort of drug. Whether it then becomes a bio-weapon or a dick stimulant, I do not know. Neither do I care. As long as they kept the hundies coming, I was good.

Now, while Anna is of Russian descent, she is a freelancer. She will work for any sick, skeevy motherfucker out there. She does not care. She has no conscience, at least not in the traditional sense as we understand it in western civilization. Today she is working for the Chinese, and tomorrow she may be working for Hamas. She is a slippery motherfucker.

So here is how it went down. At 11:32 p.m. on a Friday in September of last year I get a call on my cell phone. When the call came in I was balls deep into this hot little lass I picked up at the bus station a little earlier in the evening from an old swarthy chap named “Colorado Joe”. He wanted to sell me the girl. I was assured she was over 20 years old. I told him I needed to take her out for a test ride, which he agreed to.

So, there I was, balls deep in “Bing Bang Yun”, and my phone rings. Of course, I silence all incoming calls not in my contacts list. Thus, I knew that I must know the caller. In mid stroke I reached over to the nightstand to retrieve my cell and looked at it. It was a call from “Sergio”. I thought, “Oh shit…. I am going to have to cut the Oriental bang circus short.” When Sergio calls, I have to respond…immediately. He has the best blow on the east coast!!

“Hey, Serge! What’s up?”, I asked. All he said was, “Hooters. 2:00 a.m.”, then hung up. This was obviously the rendezvous for the transaction. Now, understand that Serge was not talking about the chicken wing restaurant. Hooters was code, in case the feds were listening in on the line. “Hooters” meant the titty bar out on Highway 69 called “The Plump Rump”. We had a communications code we used.

It was a long haul to the titty bar, so I needed to get moving. I had no time to return the girl to Colorado Joe, so I took her with me. I had her blow me on the way to the meeting with Sergio, telling her that her performance would make the difference on whether I save her from Joe or not. Of course, after she was done I tossed her out of my speeding truck and down, over the bridge, and into the Wendigo River below. I did not need any complications in my life right now.

I arrived at The Plump Rump at 2:00 a.m. on the dot. I saw the manager, Lou Skunt, sitting at the bar when I walked inside. I nodded. He walked over and said to me, “Use my office for the meeting The parties are already in there waiting for you.” I nodded and then headed to Lou’s office. Then it hit me: Lou said the “PARTIES” are already here. That is, parties, meaning more than one person. It was not just Sergio. It was 2 or more people! Lou was probably in for a cut of whatever was about to go down.

Something was bad fucked up!! I know for a fact that Sergio never brings anyone with him on a deal, at least not with me. He is too distrustful of people to do that, and too fucking mean to need protection. Something was wrong. I was just as likely to get whacked when I enter Lou’s office as anything else. I needed a moment to think things through.

I took a spot in front of one of the performance poles to watch a young, swarthy Mexican lass perform. My mind quickly strayed from the problem at hand to this brown chick’s ass and tits. She was not a great looking chick, but her body was smoking!! I quickly became aroused. I thought to myself, “Goddamn Asian bitches!! They are just like Chinese food – after 2 hours you are ready for some more!!”

When the little Mexican chick went on break I motioned her over to my table. “Hola Senior!!”, she said. I pulled out a clear plastic baggie of blow and dropped it on the table. Her eyes grew wide and slobber starting falling from her mouth. Blow is like catnip for strippers. Thus, she fell under my spell immediately.

The next thing I know, this brown girl was on my lap, dry humping me like a feral bitch dog in heat. I had to bang her. I NEEDED to see my wang penetrating her. Just then, someone taps my shoulder hard. I look up to see Lou standing over me. He bent down and said, “Did you forget about my office, asshole?!?!?!” I replied, “Damn, Lou!! You read my mind!!!” I arose, with the little Mexican bolted onto my mid-section, and hastily retreated to Lou’s office. I figured Lou would prefer me to stain this chick in private rather than out in the open.

The door to the office opened easily. The lights were on inside. In a lustful haze, I set the little Mexican chick on her back across Lou’s desk and started pumping the shit out of her, completely unaware of the others in the room with us. In a moment I heard someone call my name. I twist my neck around to see Sergio sitting on Lou’s jizz crusted couch. I think to myself, “Oh shit! I forgot about that shit!”

I figured I would just move forward with the deal as it was proposed to me. “Hey Serge! What ya got for me, dude?”, I asked. He replied, “I have a very special deal for you. I need, uh … yeah, ……Hey, Rod, you want to stop for a moment so we can talk?” I picked up the little tamale and laid her down onto Sergio’s lap as I continued to plow her. She stayed on my cock the whole time. I told Sergio, “No, man. I’m good! Lay it on me!” Slowly, Sergio lowered his face into his palm.

Then it happened. The voice cam from behind me, in the dark corner of Lou’s office. It was velvety yet hard as steel. “Rod. Went need to talk”, it said. Even though I did not stop pumping the little brown chick, a chill went down my spine when I heard those words. It was the thick timbre of the voice, I think, that alerted me.

I turned to look across the room. There, sitting in a red leather captains chair against the wall was the source of the sultry voice: Anna Conda.

I picked up the little taco yet again and turned her around so I could face Anna as I continued pumping her. At this point the Mexican girl was merely a masturbation toy I was using. I increased my pump so I could dump my load and get this over with. Then BAMM!!!, it was over. I removed the lass from my huge rod, after which her body crumpled to the floor. I did not know if she was dead or injured, or what had happened to her. But I did not care either, so I did not dwell on it.

I tried to compose myself the best I could, then walked over to stand before Anna so I could get to the bottom of all this business. “Well, well, well. Anna Conda. We meet again. Tell me, what brings you here, to my little neck of the woods?”

Anna replied, “Rod, put your dick away.” I looked down and, indeed, I had forgotten to stow my cock. Out of pure curtesy, I packed it away. Then I returned my attention to Anna. “Alright, Anna, what’s going on here?”

Anna launched into a startling tale about what brought her to me. As she spoke I became lost in her wanton beauty. She got up from her chair and walked about the room as she relayed her story, presumably to make it more dramatic and demonstrative. I got a full-on view of her body, and it was fantastic!!

She stands 5’10’’ and weighs 105 lbs. She is lithe. She was showing it off too, wearing a black, silk dress that landed just about her ankles. The top was low-cut, betraying just a bit of cleavage from her C-cup wineglass titties. She was not wearing a bra. Anna never wears a bra. Her nips were perfectly outlined through the silk. In fact, I think her nips were hard. It was probably something she did on purpose in an attempt to influence me. It was working.

Anna’s ass was perfect. It was not at all fat, but round enough not to be skinny. It was a fit figure skater’s ass. As she walked, I could see a tiny bit of jiggle emanating from her ass flesh, and then reverberated in the silky black dress she wore. My cock began growing hard again.

Her face was beautiful. Think Scarlett Johanson and Phoebe Cates rolled into one. But any sweetness this may evoke is quickly dispelled by Anna’s throaty voice with its thick Russian accent. I have known Anna for 20 years. Yet, she still does not look a day over 25. Jesus Christ!!! If ever there was a chick to die for ….. If I was one to delve into the belief of the paranormal, then I may conclude that Anna made a deal with the devil. But, I am not such a person.
And literally, Anna Conda is a chick to die for. She is deadly as fuck. She will kill you in a split second without a thought just because she does not like the shirt you are wearing. She can do it too. She is always armed and she knows how to use her weapons. Moreover, she is a total psychopath. This makes her doubly dangerous.

Anna and I have always gotten along for the most part. Like Anna, the dollar is my primary motivating factor. Such a mindset allows for understanding and predictability among people, which are elements that are sorely missing in many business dealings today that go on in the color of darkness.

Suddenly, Anna snapped me out of my thoughts. “Here’s your gun, Rod. Now let’s get started”, said Anna. She and Sergio were halfway through the door exiting Lou’s office when I said, “Hey, wait a damned minute!!! What are you talking about?!?”

They both stopped, and Anna walked back in and looked me in the eyes, saying “The plan, Rod. Let’s get on with the plan.” A little embarrassed, I sheepishly asked, “What plan?” Anna folded her arms and looked cross at me. After a moment to allow me to simmer in my shame, she asked, “You were not paying attention, were you, Rod?” I shook my head and looked down.

I heard a hammer cock. I jerked my head back up to find myself staring down the barrel of a pistol pointed at my head that Anna was holding. I protested, “Look, it is not my fucking fault!! Put that fucking gun down!!!” I continued, “You were distracting me with …. Well.. you know, how you are dressed, and that hot, sultry voice…. You know?”

“So, instead of paying attention to the plan, you chose to eye-rape me. Is that what I am to understand your position is, Rod?”, she asked. Knowing that my life was on the line, I said, “Anna, look, you know I am horny to a fault. Then you come in here, swinging them tits around, wearing that silk dress showing off the crack of your ass…. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU EXPECT TO HAPPENED?”

Anna lowered her gun. She knew that my explanation of being a total cocksman was truth. “Let’s go”, Anna curtly said. I obeyed.

Anna explained the plan to me again on the drive from The Plump Rump. She made me wear a blindfold so that I would not get horny during her explanation. Here is how it went:

Anna Conda was now working for the Russians. It seems that Putin caught wind of the Sasquatch project that the Chinese were working on. He also knew that the American government have been fucking with sasquatch for decades. Thus, he was very concerned about the existence of a bigfoot gap. He ordered the acquisition of a Sasquatch specimen immediately.

Moreover, said specimen must be prime. It needed to be the biggest, baddest sasquatch of them all – a true alpha – so as to speed things along. Putin did not want some weird shit-creature, is-it-a-sasquatch-or-is-it-a-dogman, kind of monstrosity. He wanted purebred, badass sasquatchery, and preferably from the American Pacific northwest.

Anna got in on it because she sold the intel to Putin about China’s Sasquatch operation. She then told Putin she could produce sasquatch corpses for him. She told him she had a contact (i.e., me). Thus, with Putin’s blessing and promises of riches to come, Anna set out to America to find me.

Now, here is where things got a bit squirrely. See, I agreed to procure some more dead sasquatch. I have no problem with killing sasquatch because, in my opinion, they are an abomination on this Earth. I kind of feel like I am doing God’s work by wiping out as many of them as I can. And given all the not-so-Godly stuff I have done, I feel like killing Sasquatch kind of offsets that to some degree.

But Anna, she was stuck on Putin’s instruction that she must supply him with apex Sasquatch. So she did not want to take my advice of heading to the Pacific Northwest or Alaska. Instead, Anna claimed to have pinpointed the whereabouts of a particularly gruesome sasquatch beast that she KNEW would win her a fortune from Putin if she brought it to him.

“So, where is this beast?”, I asked. Anna replied “Martha’s Vineyard”. I paused. Then I asked her to repeat herself. It turns out that I was not mistaken about what Anna had said. I continued, “Uh, Anna, there are no sasquatch on Martha’s Vineyard, just a lot of wealth New Englander schmucks.”

Anna looked at me and told me I was wrong. Then she decided to attempt to taunt me. “Oh, Rod, mighty slayer of Bigfoot! Yet, you fail to take notice of where the biggest, most foul and rotten beast of them all makes its home. Jesus, Rod!! What kind of bigfoot hunter are you, anyway?” Anna then spit at my feet and wondered aloud whether she even needs me for this job.

I decided that I needed to straighten out the hierarchy here in order for this here deal to move forward. I said, “Well, Anna, feel free to truck on over to Old Whitey Beach and battle that beast. But, if there is a big old mangy sasquatch lurking around over there, then it is probably a fucking Nazi-Squatch. You know, those fuckers out there hate the Jews.”

The work “Nazi” visibly shook Anna. Her great grandfather died defending Leningrad. Her entire family there died of either starvation or cannibalism during Hitler’s siege during Operation Barbarossa. Anna despised Nazis. But she feared them too. After landing that punch, I decided to push my luck.

“Now, I am still willing to help you catch this here Nazi-Squatch, but you have to do something for me”, I said. Now Anna’s eyes were on me, and they were narrowing. I continued, “I want you to get bare assed naked and pleasure yourself while I stand over you and jack it.” Anna stared at me silently for a long moment. Then she replied.

“After the job is done, and you can get none of your … fluids… on me”, she said. I shook my head and countered, “Now, and I will ‘try’ to not get my spunk on you.”

However, Anna then turned the tables on me. In fact, she picked up the table and bashed my head in with it. She looked me in my eyes, then matter-of-factly said, “You get the beast, and your prize shall be a night with me, anything goes, darling.” Well, since this caused all of the blood to immediately drain from my brain, I had a lapse in judgment. “DEAL!!”, I said. Then we shook on it.

“OK, tell me more about this supposed monster sasquatch on Martha’s Vineyard”, I said. I still was not ready to believe there was a monster out there. “I show you photo”, said Anna. She took out her phone, scrolled to find the photo, then handed the phone to me. “There. Sasquatch”, she said.

I stared at the photo and remained silent. After a long moment, I turned the phone so that Anna could see the photo and asked, “Uh, Anna, is THIS what you intended to show me?” She replied. “Yes! There…Sasquatch! The biggest, grossest monster around.”

Now, I could not argue with Anna that the image on her phone is a big, gross monster. Hell, it could actually be a sasquatch, and THE UBER sasquatch. It is most certainly the grossest thing on Martha’s Vinyard. But I somehow do not think this is what Putin is expecting.

I turned to Anna and said, “Anna, this is a photo of Michelle Obama. I know it looks vile, and has a huge, hulking body with large appendages where a woman should not have them. But, sweatheart, that ain’t no sasquatch. That’s a big, hairy Chicago street negro.”

Anna did not believe me at first. She was hard in her conviction that Obama was a sasquatch. “I have seen the Sasquatch beast you deliver to me for China. This … Michelle Obama …. It is big, and hairy, and ugly like the sasquatch beast, but worse.”

When the truth finally set it, I could see that it had kind of broken down poor Anna, if only just a bit. I put my arm around Anna and told her, “Look, Michelle O fooled you. Hell, she and her Hamas Hubby fooled millions of Americans, twice! At least you saw Michelle for what she is, to wit: a big, gross sasquatch, and NOT some kind a retarded leftist messiah.”

After that, things took a rather dark turn. “What if we still take her to Putin? We can make deal; sell her to Putin!!” At this point I held up my hands and said, “I’m out”, then turned and walked away. Anna followed, trying to get me to stay. At this point, I could tell that Anna was coming undone a little.

See, she had to produce for Putin. There is no telling what kind of secret deal she actually had with him. She had to deliver a big old mangy Obama …. Er, uh, I mean … Sasquatch, to Putin.

“Ok, Rod, we do your plan. We go out west to kill bigfoot. Huge, monster bigfoot. she said. I turned and looked Anna in her eyes and said the following: First, we bang for 48 hours straight, right now, so I can get my fill of you. Second, you pay me $10,000.00 cash upfront. Third, upon delivery of the dead bigfoot, you pay me $1 million immediately.”

Anna agreed to everything, but noted that at the present time it was her “time of the month”. I grimaced, as I will absolutely not go there (and she knows that). “Fine, next week we bang”, I said. She pointed out that I would be in the woods next week hunting sasquatch. “Fine, once I come out of the woods, then we bang – 48 hours straight”, I said. “Of course, darling!”, she agreed.

Well, it took several days to set up the hunt, but it finally happened. I was in Washington state at high elevation based on intel I has acquired that indicated that there was a monstrous 15’ tall sasquatch on the mountain range that had been murdering and eating hunters and hikers. After 3 months in these mountains without a trace of the creature I began to lose hope, thinking that I probably got some bad intel, or bad coordinates.

I got my satellite phone out to call for an extraction. Winter was setting in fast, and if I did not get off this mountain soon, then I would freeze and/or starve to death. Unfortunately, my contact did not answer. I tried for 2 days. No answer. I had been fucked. I wondered what had happened back in civilization that caused me to be abandoned like this. I resolved that I would get off that mountain and get to the bottom of this shit. There would be hell to pay for this betrayal!!’

I was able to get in touch with contacts from back home. I got old Billy Ray from Ellijay and Rattler on the phone and got them to come out here to Washington State to extract me. Rattler use to fly helicopters in the Army. He has an old Huey sitting in his front yard, to the chagrin of his HOA. He fired that sucker up, and him and old Billy Ray flew out here to my coordinates and extracted me.

After landing at a convenience store to buy some beer for the flight home, we headed east. Through the skies a way, Billy Ray said, “Well, Rod, I guess you is bout ready to git back home to Georgia, eh?” In fact, I was ready to go home. But I had to take care of some business first. I told them both to take me to New York City. They were both perplexed. All I said to them was “I have an old friend there I have to see before I can go home.”

I have intel on where Anna Conda stays when she is in the United States. She stays at certain hotels depending on what month she is here, and whether her check-in date is an odd or even number. This is for undercover work. I came across the code for her stays while doing the sasquatch work for China. She an I were caught in a snowstorm one night in Buffalo, NY, and had to share a room at the Holiday Inn near the airport. We had like 10 big Igloo ice chests with iced down sasquatch body parts with us in the room.

Anna was like, “No hanky panky, Rod. I am tired and I want to go to bed. Tomorrow we finish business.”

Frankly, I did not blame her for withholding her magnificent muff from me. I was tired as hell. But, I could not settle for nothing. So, when Anna was in the bathroom taking a shower, I started going through her suit case. I wanted to find some of her panties to jack off into. Instead, I found a little black notebook. Inside it contained her lodging codes, and some other interesting things. I photographed the contents with my phone and then put it back.

When Anna got out of the shower she was already dressed in her night clothes. She saw me lying on my back, nude on the bed, and jacking it. “Rod!! GROSS!!!! Go to the restroom to do that shit!!!”, she commanded. I just did it to get a rise out of her. LOL!!

So, if Anna is still inside the U.S., then using the codes I stole from her I can locate precisely where she will be that night. I studied it for a few moments then had my answer. Tonight she would be staying at the Dogman Inn on Hwy 95 South, Room 355. I told Rattler to get me there stat!

We had to stop several times for fuel and beer. Those Hueys go just a bit over a hundred MPH, you know. But eventually, we got there. I gave the boys some money and told them to go to the Waffle House for some coffee to sober up. Then they would fly me home.

I should mention that I also had Rattler’s fully auto Russian AK-74 with spare mags. During the long flight with 2 drunks from Washington State to New York City, I had worked myself up into a towering rage over how Anna fucked me on this Putin deal. She had clearly thrown me aside. But for what, exactly? I figured I would storm the hotel room, get some answers, then shower the room with gun fire.

I busted through the door of Room 355 at exactly 3:35 a.m. There she was. My entry roused her from slumber. I was pointing my rifle at her, center mass. She was shocked at the appearance of a gunman in her room at this time of night. However, she was not as shocked as one would think (this was not the first time something like this has happened to her).

I raised my face from the receiver just enough so she could see it was me. “Rod!!!”, she exclaimed. “What happened to you?!?!? I thought you had died up in those mountains when we never hear from you!” I replied, “Shove it up that cute little ass of yours, Anna. You fucked me. And not in the good way. What the fuck was all that shit about needing a sasquatch for Putin?!?”

Anna played dumb. But it struck me that I had been deliberately put out of the loop for 3 months. Why? Who wanted me away for that long, and why? What went on in my absence?!? I was just dying to know!!! I set my rifle down and pulled out my fixed blade knife, ready to get down to some real nasty work on Anna so I could get some truth. The pure evil of what I was about to do to her caused a wide death grin to grow on my face. Anna saw it. She knew what it meant. She swallowed hard and her eyes betrayed the shear terror she felt inside. I was engorged with blood lust. She knew she had fucked up one time too many this time!!

Suddenly came the sound of the toilet in the bathroom flushing. I was momentarily shocked. I did not expect anyone else to be there with Anna. Anna saw it in my face. I glanced at her and saw that the terror in her face was replaced with pleasure, a slight smile creeping over her face.

I was going to have to face off against this person in the bathroom, who would be out in a split moment. When I do that, I will have to turn 180 degrees from Anna, thereby making me vulnerable to her. I had only once choice: Shoot Anna first.

Just as this came to me, but just before I could act on it, the bathroom door opened. I had to deal with that person before Anna now. I spun around to see that it was a completely nude, and fat, white man. He was a real oafish blob. He looked surprised to see me. He also looked sort of familiar.

I next heard the crack of something hitting my skull hard. I remember the immediate hateful pain that shot through my body and the sound of blood rushing through my ears. I remember the dizziness, then falling to the floor. Clearly, as I fixed on the man from the bathroom, Anna had cracked me over the head with a blunt object.

I came to the next morning, Billy Ray and Rattler had manage to track me down based upon coordinates I left in the chopper that said “IN CASE OF EMERGENCY”. Billy Ray filled up the hotel room ice bucket with cold water and doused my head with it to bring me conscious. I was disoriented at first. But after a bit, what happened in this room the night before came back to me.

Honestly, I am surprised that Anna did not just kill me. I presume that she thinks she can leverage her drop-dead hotness to get me to do more shit for her in the future. She is absolutely right about that too. Rattler then said, “Hey, Rod, that snake bitch left a letter fer ya.”

He handed me the letter. This is what it said:
____________________________________________

“Dear Rod:

Sorry about the boo boo on your head. Hope it heals soon. Also sorry about leaving you in the mountains. I was not running a scam on you Rod. Rather, an opportunity arose for me to acquire a sasquatch body from another person. You may know him since you are a sasquatch hunter. His name is Matt Moneymaker. Anyway, until next time…..

Yours truly,
Anna Conda”
_____________________________________________
I could not fucking believe it. That was fatfuck Moneymaker in the hotel room earlier. Anna fucked Matt Fatfuck Moneymaker for a Sasquatch! That fat son of bitch!!

Billy Ray asked, “You ready to go Rod?” I stood up and said, “Yeah, let’s go.” Then Rattler said, “Hey, ya wanna stop and git some beer fer the ride home?” I replied “Hell yeah.”

I felt like I wanted to die. Thank God for beer and buddies. I don’t blame Anna. She is a fucking snake, and I knew that before this started. Also, I cannot really blame fatfuck Moneymaker for wanting to get some of that hot poon pie Anna serves up. I guess I have to blame fate for fucking me over this time. I even started thinking that next time I will just avoid Anna. But I know I won’t, thus making me subject to this sort of shit again. I had Rattler set us down in Charlottesville so I could buy some hard liquor.

Several people have approached me that they might have endometriosis. Lifelong warrior so thought I would share my tips and tricks I put together for my friends and family to share with you :) Hope this helps someone!
ENDOMETRIOSIS SURGERY FACTS

• EXCISION SURGERY! I cannot stress this one enough. If you have an ablation, it will grow back and likely quick (but consult with your doctors on your case 100%). Excision is when they cut it out vs. it gets burned off. You will have a better success rate and slow rate of growth if they excise. Not all cases can be depending on location so again, please talk with your doctor about your situation. This is not the same for everyone.
• If your doctor cannot do excision surgery. Skip and move on to the next! Trust me, well worth the time to research and find the right doctor. You will thank me later for this one too haha.
• Finding a doctor is stuff. Also tough to find resources. If you cannot find an Endometriosis specialist in your area who does excision, you may need to look out of state, but one tip is exploring gynecological oncologists. Some will take benign cases, but not all so do your research. But it’s a good avenue for help in your area or you want insurance coverage.
• Nanny’s Nook is a good resource for online information regarding endometriosis: https://nancysnookendo.com/
• Dr Seckin’s book called The Doctor Will See You Now is also worth the read (https://www.amazon.com/Doctor-Will-See-You-Endometriosis/dp/1681621126)
• Definitely look into Egg Freezing before doing any permanent surgeries. The ovaries are more intact when there is a uterus in place, so I recommend immediately following any excisions with Egg Freezing if you can and if it’s part of your plans. I found my AMH levels low (1.2) but still retrieved 25 eggs, so never be discouraged if this is your future planning path.
• My Symptoms: I experience bloating, constipation, diarrhea, nausea and vomiting as the main culprits. I have irregular periods in regards to the number of days and if it comes or not (even with an IUD). Pelvic pain is probably the worst of all since it accompanies these symptoms and is present a majority of the time. Others may have different symptoms, and there’s many others I didn’t list but wanted to paint the picture of some I’ve experienced.

ENDOMETRIOSIS LAPAROSCOPIC SURGERY (WHAT TO EXPECT)
PRE-SURGERY

• List of questions to ask your doctor
• Insurance Information and ID
• Necessary forms or paperwork the doctor requires
• Make sure any medical records are sent that would be relevant

POST-OP PREP

• Eat smaller meals and simple foods days beforehand. If bowel prep is necessary, they also recommend taking a laxative in the days leading up to help prep.
• Pack a bag! Not every surgery is an overnight stay but even if you have a day-of surgery, back an overnight bag. Here’s the essentials:
  • Phone/Headphones/iPad/Kindle/Books
  • Device Chargers
  • Medications that you currently take
  • Glasses (do not wear contacts day of)
  • An extra pair of underwear
  • Sanitary Pads or Always Discreet
  • Comfy pants with light elastic band around the waist
  • Non wired bra
  • Slip on shoes (this is clutch! Recommend slides -https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BL7LJKZW/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_search_asin_title?ie=UTF8&psc=1).
  • Layers - Sweatshirt, Long Sleeved Shirt etc. - Hospitals are cold!
  • Toothbrush and tooth paste
  • Hairbrush
  • Face wipes, wash cloth, small towel and bar of soap.

SPACE PREP

1. Make sure your bed or couch is prepped. I stayed on the first level for the first 2ish days before feeling well enough to stay upstairs.
2. I used a pregnancy pillow on the bed to help me stay on my back while sleeping and help you feel cozy.
3. Stock the house with foods that will be light for your stomach. Think soups and casseroles! Saltine crackers, broths, rices etc..
4. If you have a raised bed, get a step stool to assist. It’s best to sit on the side of the bed and slowly lay your upper body down while bringing your knees up and over to your back. You will need to use arm strength the first couple of days to get you up and over since you can’t use the abdomen.
5. Water and Beverages stocked at all times. I have a reusable water bottle and avoid carbonated beverages for the time being. They fill you with gas for the procedure so it may make those symptoms worse.
6. Netflix, Kindle, Puzzles, Craft Projects…visits with friends. Whatever makes the time pass, set it up ahead of time so it’s handy.
7. Items to Keep on Hand: Baby Wipes, heating pads, pads/diapers, candles, essential oils, things that smell good haha

BOWEL PREP
This is dependent on the type of surgery you are having, but its good to have Gatorade, Magnesium Citrate (liquid), laxatives and enemas on hand just in case you need these.
ON SURGERY DAY
It’s important to follow the instructions on what to stop taking and/or eating/drinking prior to the surgery. Wear comfy clothes (wide elastic waistband) and slides with cozy socks. Double check your to go bag and breath.
AT THE HOSPITAL

1. Do your check-ins and keep your people with you as long as you want.
2. Make sure to read all the consent forms and ask any questions upfront. Make any advance directives clear.
3. Just try to remain calm as there’s a lot of down time while they do intake. It is about 2 hours of prep before they bring you in for the surgery itself.
4. They will ask you the same questions over and over again, that’s normal and trust me, you want to confirm it’s all being done properly.
5. If you need something for anxiety, they will be sure to give you something if you ask :)
6. You will be wearing a gown, socks, funky underwear and a cool hair net haha wear the gown backward so you keep warm and keep the butt covered.
7. Vitals will happen and the anesthesiologist will come and speak with you to make sure they prep the right meds beforehand. Bring up any concerns here with them!
8. You may be wheeled or walked into surgery. I’ve only ever walked in and laid on the table myself.
9. They will then put the IV in your arm and sometimes will put on a mask, they will then ask you to count backwards and before you know it, you will be awake again!

RECOVERY

• You will wake-up and feel groggy. Totally normal and you will be in a different room. They will likely say a lot really quick about your surgery. Before leaving ask for them to walk through it or see if you can speak with the doctor again when clear headed. RECOMMENDED!
• Your throat will be sore, that’s normal from the tube.
• Just relax and sleep it off if you want, the goal is to be relaxed and pee once before leaving.
• Before you go, eat and drink and pass smoke urine. They’ll provide you with the meds and you’ll be good to go.
• Make sure someone brings you home after :)
• Make sure you have a bag for vomit in the car.
• Bring a small pillow that can be strapped between the car belt and you for maximum comfort on the trip home.
• Pain Med Management: This one is important. I messed up night one and didn’t take it soon enough and was in too much pain so make sure you stick to the schedule the doctors give you to ensure you are comfortable.
• Keep Walking: It seems unnatural to have a surgery then walk, but the sooner you get up and keep moving around the house, the better. Just avoid heavy lifting and immense bending like movements. Stairs are also ok but also consult with your doctor!
• Gas Build Up: I did feel pain in my shoulders from the gas. Just keep moving! It will help get that out of the system but this pain is normal.
• Relax and let people take care of you! Don’t be too quick to recover.
• Keep an eye out for fever, increased vaginal bleeding, or feeling terrible.
• Keep all post op appointments and follow all post op instructions!

ENDOMETRIOSIS MAINTENANCE
Here’s the tips and tricks I found helpful for maintaining my pain and symptoms (GI and back pain related):

1. Pelvic Floor Therapy: This is important for keeping the muscles in your pelvis healthy and strong to maintain your structure and also help manage pain. Consult with your doctor on whether this is right for you.
2. Physical Therapy: I do PT for my back and pelvic floor since it’s all related. We focus on Myofascial Release Therapy to help break up the adhesions and give me more mobility. This helps with temporary pain relief (reduction in number), but that is always welcome :)
3. Acupuncture: I swear by Acupuncture. I don’t know what it does or why, but it works. It’s not a cure by any means, but it's great for relaxation, fertility, digestion, endometriosis, sleep, etc.. I can go on, but it’s not covered by insurance plans all the time so you will need to check and see what you’re able to take on.
4. Diet/Exercise:
   1. Eating high protein, lower fat/carbs (not none just low) helps your body, but overall learn your trigger foods! This will go a long way.
   2. Ginger, turmeric and fennel all help with bloating. I like to drink them in tea form when I’m feeling particularly hard stomached as it’s a good natural way to decrease the bloat. Peppermint also works for some, for me it irritates my GERD.
   3. Chamomile for relaxation
   4. Walking and movement are important. I cannot do anything high impact due to my sacroiliitis diagnosis, so I stick with light yoga and walking.
5. Alcohol/Other Substances: Don’t do it. Don’t touch it. You’ll thank me later on this point.
6. Sleep: Insomnia is a very real thing. I think I went 2 or 3 days at its worst one time and I cannot say enough how important trying to keep the same sleep schedule will benefit you. Waking and sleeping around the same time each day will still feel exhausting but at least you know your body is getting the most sleep it can get.
7. Medications/Supplements:
   1. Ibprofuern: This does NOT work for me. I have GERD and ulcers so I cannot take NSAIDs, but with that in mind, NSAIDs are supposedly the best pain medication over the counter to help you manage it.
   2. Pain Killers: These are AS NEEDED. I try to refrain and leave these for the TRULY bad days which I try to spread out. Not even worth it sometimes, because I don’t like how I feel and sometimes vomit after taking them. But they do help the pain!
   3. IUD/Orilissa: An IUD will NOT do anything. If you are diagnosed, ask your doctor about Orilissa or similar medicines instead of birth control methods. This will not stop the growth, just suppress it. There are side effects and it is only a short term solution.
   4. Linzess: This worked well for me for constipation symptoms when they got severe. Definitely recommend bringing this to your doctor if you’re truly suffering and they have not yet mentioned. I also resorted after trying magnesium citrate
   5. CBD Lotions/Salves: For my pelvis, I use Healing Rose CBD Salve in Orange and Lavender (https://www.thehealingroseco.com/product/orange-lavender-with-chamomile-herbal-salve-300mg-cbd/). For my back, I use a medical grade CBD lotion with menthol (https://cbdclinic.co/clinical-strength-series/). I also use a CBD massage oil from Healing Rose of the same scent when doing myofascial release at home. I also use Somedays Cramp Cream (https://somedays.com/products/period-cramp-cream?variant=42062153842853).
8. Heating Pads and Ice Pack: I have several varieties of heating pads. A cordless travel heating pad (https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09FPTJL4G?psc=1&ref=ppx_yo2ov_dt_b_product_details), a plug-in heating pad (lhttps://www.hsn.com/products/pure-enrichment-purerelief-xxl-heating-pad-with-9-cord/22188460) and stick on patches (https://www.thermacare.com/ - I use the back patches but reverse them to the front for better coverage). For hot flashes and night sweats (also if you need to relax while anxious) place an ice pack over your chest to help cool or calm down.
9. Self-Care: No joke, massages, facials, epsom salt baths, sound baths, reiki….anything that you find relaxing. Do it. Try it! They also make CBD bath bombs Ive been wanting to check out.
10. TENs Machine: I really want one, don’t have one, but people swear by them (the heating pad linked to MyObi has a TENs version - https://myobistore.com/en-us/collections/my-obi-belts/products/apollo-2-0).
11. Pregnancy Pillow: This one sounds so lame, but I bought a pregnancy pillow for my first endometriosis surgery since I’m a side sleeper to help keep me on my back during recovery. It changed by life! It helps my anxiety and makes me comfortable while sleeping. (https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08YYVRXLM/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_search_asin_title?ie=UTF8&psc=1)..
12. Heated Blankets/Cozy Blankets: Make yourself feel better with a cozy blanket. Do it, I dare you!
13. Endo To-Go Bag: Includes heating pads (travel, plug-in and patches), medications, balms/salves, essential oils and pads/protection items, change of clothes, wet wipes.
14. Sex Life: I’m single, I don’t have a partner to worry about communicating this issue with at this point, but go slow and communicate given eventually this will have to be a conversation. What I have learned is that if you do have sex and feel pain. Immediately stop! If you associate sex with pain mentally in that moment, it may cause fear in doing so down the line so it’s best to stop the moment you feel any pain occur.
15. Work Life: I work a demanding job so it was not working with the appointments and care I needed to manage pain. Always get FMLA from your doctor for intermittent leave based on your company's policies. This protects you from flare-ups and appointments. Short Term Disability is based on your situation with work so talk with them about any leave of absence for surgery and recovery and ensure the medical providers fill out the paperwork appropriately.
16. Friends/Family: This one is the worst. I have to cancel and make plans all the time based on how I feel. I like to line up a bunch of plans for three months out and do my best to make them happen at the beginning of the month when I know I’m most likely to feel good. I just say I’ll make things up to them when I get better and those who have stuck around have been truly amazing friends, but don’t be upset that some might be over the day in and out of what you’re going through. It’s hard for you and sometimes others and it’s just a part of the relationships we’re meant to experience in life. Most people (unless they have endometriosis) don’t understand it so it can feel isolating, but there’s others out there who know what you’re going through and are willing to chat. Just gotta find them and reach out on social media, online etc..
17. Journaling Symptoms: Guilty of not being the best at this always, but it's good to track your symptoms to see how they work and operate. It helps not only you plan for it, but also your doctors in how best to handle your care. Take photos of things that make sense to show your doctors! Discharge, bowels etc..can sometimes help diagnose or judge with the images.
18. Next to Bed Kit: Make sure your nightstand is stocked with the essentials for your bad days. Makes it easier to access the items you need when you just can’t get up and get it.
19. Squatty Potty: Another thing that is majorly life changing on constipation days! Get one or you can make your own :) Take a stack of books and stack them at equal heights on each side and put your feet up. The trick is making sure you’re in a squat with your knees high to your ears.
20. Clothing: Dressing for this is key but you still want to look cute! Joggers with a stretchy waist are my go to pants, but wide leg trousers with a stretchy waist help with ease of removal but also comfort and brings some style to the look.
21. Pads: I wear Always Discreet vs. pads. I find when you need to wear them full time for incontinence it just makes it more comfortable. They have different cuts and styles so definitely check them out!

Several people have approached me that they might have endometriosis. Lifelong warrior so thought I would share my tips and tricks I put together for my friends and family to share with you :) Hope this helps someone!
ENDOMETRIOSIS SURGERY FACTS

• EXCISION SURGERY! I cannot stress this one enough. If you have an ablation, it will grow back and likely quick (but consult with your doctors on your case 100%). Excision is when they cut it out vs. it gets burned off. You will have a better success rate and slow rate of growth if they excise. Not all cases can be depending on location so again, please talk with your doctor about your situation. This is not the same for everyone.
• If your doctor cannot do excision surgery. Skip and move on to the next! Trust me, well worth the time to research and find the right doctor. You will thank me later for this one too haha.
• Finding a doctor is stuff. Also tough to find resources. If you cannot find an Endometriosis specialist in your area who does excision, you may need to look out of state, but one tip is exploring gynecological oncologists. Some will take benign cases, but not all so do your research. But it’s a good avenue for help in your area or you want insurance coverage.
• Nanny’s Nook is a good resource for online information regarding endometriosis: https://nancysnookendo.com/
• Dr Seckin’s book called The Doctor Will See You Now is also worth the read (https://www.amazon.com/Doctor-Will-See-You-Endometriosis/dp/1681621126)
• Definitely look into Egg Freezing before doing any permanent surgeries. The ovaries are more intact when there is a uterus in place, so I recommend immediately following any excisions with Egg Freezing if you can and if it’s part of your plans. I found my AMH levels low (1.2) but still retrieved 25 eggs, so never be discouraged if this is your future planning path.
• My Symptoms: I experience bloating, constipation, diarrhea, nausea and vomiting as the main culprits. I have irregular periods in regards to the number of days and if it comes or not (even with an IUD). Pelvic pain is probably the worst of all since it accompanies these symptoms and is present a majority of the time. Others may have different symptoms, and there’s many others I didn’t list but wanted to paint the picture of some I’ve experienced.

ENDOMETRIOSIS LAPAROSCOPIC SURGERY (WHAT TO EXPECT)
PRE-SURGERY

• List of questions to ask your doctor
• Insurance Information and ID
• Necessary forms or paperwork the doctor requires
• Make sure any medical records are sent that would be relevant

POST-OP PREP

• Eat smaller meals and simple foods days beforehand. If bowel prep is necessary, they also recommend taking a laxative in the days leading up to help prep.
• Pack a bag! Not every surgery is an overnight stay but even if you have a day-of surgery, back an overnight bag. Here’s the essentials:
  • Phone/Headphones/iPad/Kindle/Books
  • Device Chargers
  • Medications that you currently take
  • Glasses (do not wear contacts day of)
  • An extra pair of underwear
  • Sanitary Pads or Always Discreet
  • Comfy pants with light elastic band around the waist
  • Non wired bra
  • Slip on shoes (this is clutch! Recommend slides -https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BL7LJKZW/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_search_asin_title?ie=UTF8&psc=1).
  • Layers - Sweatshirt, Long Sleeved Shirt etc. - Hospitals are cold!
  • Toothbrush and tooth paste
  • Hairbrush
  • Face wipes, wash cloth, small towel and bar of soap.

SPACE PREP

1. Make sure your bed or couch is prepped. I stayed on the first level for the first 2ish days before feeling well enough to stay upstairs.
2. I used a pregnancy pillow on the bed to help me stay on my back while sleeping and help you feel cozy.
3. Stock the house with foods that will be light for your stomach. Think soups and casseroles! Saltine crackers, broths, rices etc..
4. If you have a raised bed, get a step stool to assist. It’s best to sit on the side of the bed and slowly lay your upper body down while bringing your knees up and over to your back. You will need to use arm strength the first couple of days to get you up and over since you can’t use the abdomen.
5. Water and Beverages stocked at all times. I have a reusable water bottle and avoid carbonated beverages for the time being. They fill you with gas for the procedure so it may make those symptoms worse.
6. Netflix, Kindle, Puzzles, Craft Projects…visits with friends. Whatever makes the time pass, set it up ahead of time so it’s handy.
7. Items to Keep on Hand: Baby Wipes, heating pads, pads/diapers, candles, essential oils, things that smell good haha

BOWEL PREP
This is dependent on the type of surgery you are having, but its good to have Gatorade, Magnesium Citrate (liquid), laxatives and enemas on hand just in case you need these.
ON SURGERY DAY
It’s important to follow the instructions on what to stop taking and/or eating/drinking prior to the surgery. Wear comfy clothes (wide elastic waistband) and slides with cozy socks. Double check your to go bag and breath.
AT THE HOSPITAL

1. Do your check-ins and keep your people with you as long as you want.
2. Make sure to read all the consent forms and ask any questions upfront. Make any advance directives clear.
3. Just try to remain calm as there’s a lot of down time while they do intake. It is about 2 hours of prep before they bring you in for the surgery itself.
4. They will ask you the same questions over and over again, that’s normal and trust me, you want to confirm it’s all being done properly.
5. If you need something for anxiety, they will be sure to give you something if you ask :)
6. You will be wearing a gown, socks, funky underwear and a cool hair net haha wear the gown backward so you keep warm and keep the butt covered.
7. Vitals will happen and the anesthesiologist will come and speak with you to make sure they prep the right meds beforehand. Bring up any concerns here with them!
8. You may be wheeled or walked into surgery. I’ve only ever walked in and laid on the table myself.
9. They will then put the IV in your arm and sometimes will put on a mask, they will then ask you to count backwards and before you know it, you will be awake again!

RECOVERY

• You will wake-up and feel groggy. Totally normal and you will be in a different room. They will likely say a lot really quick about your surgery. Before leaving ask for them to walk through it or see if you can speak with the doctor again when clear headed. RECOMMENDED!
• Your throat will be sore, that’s normal from the tube.
• Just relax and sleep it off if you want, the goal is to be relaxed and pee once before leaving.
• Before you go, eat and drink and pass smoke urine. They’ll provide you with the meds and you’ll be good to go.
• Make sure someone brings you home after :)
• Make sure you have a bag for vomit in the car.
• Bring a small pillow that can be strapped between the car belt and you for maximum comfort on the trip home.
• Pain Med Management: This one is important. I messed up night one and didn’t take it soon enough and was in too much pain so make sure you stick to the schedule the doctors give you to ensure you are comfortable.
• Keep Walking: It seems unnatural to have a surgery then walk, but the sooner you get up and keep moving around the house, the better. Just avoid heavy lifting and immense bending like movements. Stairs are also ok but also consult with your doctor!
• Gas Build Up: I did feel pain in my shoulders from the gas. Just keep moving! It will help get that out of the system but this pain is normal.
• Relax and let people take care of you! Don’t be too quick to recover.
• Keep an eye out for fever, increased vaginal bleeding, or feeling terrible.
• Keep all post op appointments and follow all post op instructions!

ENDOMETRIOSIS MAINTENANCE
Here’s the tips and tricks I found helpful for maintaining my pain and symptoms (GI and back pain related):

1. Pelvic Floor Therapy: This is important for keeping the muscles in your pelvis healthy and strong to maintain your structure and also help manage pain. Consult with your doctor on whether this is right for you.
2. Physical Therapy: I do PT for my back and pelvic floor since it’s all related. We focus on Myofascial Release Therapy to help break up the adhesions and give me more mobility. This helps with temporary pain relief (reduction in number), but that is always welcome :)
3. Acupuncture: I swear by Acupuncture. I don’t know what it does or why, but it works. It’s not a cure by any means, but it's great for relaxation, fertility, digestion, endometriosis, sleep, etc.. I can go on, but it’s not covered by insurance plans all the time so you will need to check and see what you’re able to take on.
4. Diet/Exercise:
   1. Eating high protein, lower fat/carbs (not none just low) helps your body, but overall learn your trigger foods! This will go a long way.
   2. Ginger, turmeric and fennel all help with bloating. I like to drink them in tea form when I’m feeling particularly hard stomached as it’s a good natural way to decrease the bloat. Peppermint also works for some, for me it irritates my GERD.
   3. Chamomile for relaxation
   4. Walking and movement are important. I cannot do anything high impact due to my sacroiliitis diagnosis, so I stick with light yoga and walking.
5. Alcohol/Other Substances: Don’t do it. Don’t touch it. You’ll thank me later on this point.
6. Sleep: Insomnia is a very real thing. I think I went 2 or 3 days at its worst one time and I cannot say enough how important trying to keep the same sleep schedule will benefit you. Waking and sleeping around the same time each day will still feel exhausting but at least you know your body is getting the most sleep it can get.
7. Medications/Supplements:
   1. Ibprofuern: This does NOT work for me. I have GERD and ulcers so I cannot take NSAIDs, but with that in mind, NSAIDs are supposedly the best pain medication over the counter to help you manage it.
   2. Pain Killers: These are AS NEEDED. I try to refrain and leave these for the TRULY bad days which I try to spread out. Not even worth it sometimes, because I don’t like how I feel and sometimes vomit after taking them. But they do help the pain!
   3. IUD/Orilissa: An IUD will NOT do anything. If you are diagnosed, ask your doctor about Orilissa or similar medicines instead of birth control methods. This will not stop the growth, just suppress it. There are side effects and it is only a short term solution.
   4. Linzess: This worked well for me for constipation symptoms when they got severe. Definitely recommend bringing this to your doctor if you’re truly suffering and they have not yet mentioned. I also resorted after trying magnesium citrate
   5. CBD Lotions/Salves: For my pelvis, I use Healing Rose CBD Salve in Orange and Lavender (https://www.thehealingroseco.com/product/orange-lavender-with-chamomile-herbal-salve-300mg-cbd/). For my back, I use a medical grade CBD lotion with menthol (https://cbdclinic.co/clinical-strength-series/). I also use a CBD massage oil from Healing Rose of the same scent when doing myofascial release at home. I also use Somedays Cramp Cream (https://somedays.com/products/period-cramp-cream?variant=42062153842853).
8. Heating Pads and Ice Pack: I have several varieties of heating pads. A cordless travel heating pad (https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09FPTJL4G?psc=1&ref=ppx_yo2ov_dt_b_product_details), a plug-in heating pad (lhttps://www.hsn.com/products/pure-enrichment-purerelief-xxl-heating-pad-with-9-cord/22188460) and stick on patches (https://www.thermacare.com/ - I use the back patches but reverse them to the front for better coverage). For hot flashes and night sweats (also if you need to relax while anxious) place an ice pack over your chest to help cool or calm down.
9. Self-Care: No joke, massages, facials, epsom salt baths, sound baths, reiki….anything that you find relaxing. Do it. Try it! They also make CBD bath bombs Ive been wanting to check out.
10. TENs Machine: I really want one, don’t have one, but people swear by them (the heating pad linked to MyObi has a TENs version - https://myobistore.com/en-us/collections/my-obi-belts/products/apollo-2-0).
11. Pregnancy Pillow: This one sounds so lame, but I bought a pregnancy pillow for my first endometriosis surgery since I’m a side sleeper to help keep me on my back during recovery. It changed by life! It helps my anxiety and makes me comfortable while sleeping. (https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08YYVRXLM/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_search_asin_title?ie=UTF8&psc=1)..
12. Heated Blankets/Cozy Blankets: Make yourself feel better with a cozy blanket. Do it, I dare you!
13. Endo To-Go Bag: Includes heating pads (travel, plug-in and patches), medications, balms/salves, essential oils and pads/protection items, change of clothes, wet wipes.
14. Sex Life: I’m single, I don’t have a partner to worry about communicating this issue with at this point, but go slow and communicate given eventually this will have to be a conversation. What I have learned is that if you do have sex and feel pain. Immediately stop! If you associate sex with pain mentally in that moment, it may cause fear in doing so down the line so it’s best to stop the moment you feel any pain occur.
15. Work Life: I work a demanding job so it was not working with the appointments and care I needed to manage pain. Always get FMLA from your doctor for intermittent leave based on your company's policies. This protects you from flare-ups and appointments. Short Term Disability is based on your situation with work so talk with them about any leave of absence for surgery and recovery and ensure the medical providers fill out the paperwork appropriately.
16. Friends/Family: This one is the worst. I have to cancel and make plans all the time based on how I feel. I like to line up a bunch of plans for three months out and do my best to make them happen at the beginning of the month when I know I’m most likely to feel good. I just say I’ll make things up to them when I get better and those who have stuck around have been truly amazing friends, but don’t be upset that some might be over the day in and out of what you’re going through. It’s hard for you and sometimes others and it’s just a part of the relationships we’re meant to experience in life. Most people (unless they have endometriosis) don’t understand it so it can feel isolating, but there’s others out there who know what you’re going through and are willing to chat. Just gotta find them and reach out on social media, online etc..
17. Journaling Symptoms: Guilty of not being the best at this always, but it's good to track your symptoms to see how they work and operate. It helps not only you plan for it, but also your doctors in how best to handle your care. Take photos of things that make sense to show your doctors! Discharge, bowels etc..can sometimes help diagnose or judge with the images.
18. Next to Bed Kit: Make sure your nightstand is stocked with the essentials for your bad days. Makes it easier to access the items you need when you just can’t get up and get it.
19. Squatty Potty: Another thing that is majorly life changing on constipation days! Get one or you can make your own :) Take a stack of books and stack them at equal heights on each side and put your feet up. The trick is making sure you’re in a squat with your knees high to your ears.
20. Clothing: Dressing for this is key but you still want to look cute! Joggers with a stretchy waist are my go to pants, but wide leg trousers with a stretchy waist help with ease of removal but also comfort and brings some style to the look.
21. Pads: I wear Always Discreet vs. pads. I find when you need to wear them full time for incontinence it just makes it more comfortable. They have different cuts and styles so definitely check them out!

My family and I (24F) found out at the end of last summer, around the beginning of August that my cousin (25F) is actually my sister. Three DNA tests confirmed it. A little back story for you- this has been a “joke” in my dad’s side of the family for my whole life. Mostly coming from him. “What if __ is really your sister? laughs I’m just kidding there’s no way.” Always those types of jokes. I never thought anything about it because she looks SO much like my uncle, but my dad and him look very similar. Also her birthday and my birthday are so close that my dad would’ve had to of cheated on my mom when they FIRST met. Okay. Now to why I thing incest is going on. She started talking to my dad pretty often in August, they did the first test (23 & Me) came back as my half sister. She lived in a different state at that time (August 2023). There’s talk about her trying to plan a trip up to “meet” us all (even though she’s met us all before???) with her fiancé that she had been with for about 6-7 months. Every time it was gonna happen it didn’t. Early September she finds out she’s pregnant. Late September, she finds out she had a miscarriage. She says she needs support bc she has none in the state she’s in. (At that time she lived with her mom and step dad and her two kids, I know her mom, she can be the hovering type but she is VERY OPENLY supportive of her) So she comes to visit for a weekend. They’re at the grocery store (my dad, half sister, my full blood brother, and her fiance) she said she “lost the rest of the baby” now I’ve been lucky enough to never have to experience a miscarriage so I don’t know how that works. She leaves on Sunday. Comes back again the next weekend. Goes home again that Sunday. The next time she came, she didn’t leave. She moved in that quickly. Left her kids with her mom, and said she wanted to build a better life for them. Good for her! After she moves in, the whole house shifted. Mind you, she did move in with her fiancé. There was tension everyday. Arguments way more often than ever in this house not just between her and her finance, but everybody (in the house was:my step-mom, the fiance, my dad, my brother, my half sister, me, my boyfriend, and my 5 kids) They start sitting hip to hip. Not too weird. Then she started following him everywhere. Like to the point where he got up to go to the bathroom, and she followed and stood by the door until he was finished. Then they start holding hands. Openly btw. My step mom confronts that, he says that (we’ll call her A) A, just needs someone, she wants him to make her feel loved, and protected. Whenever they would leave, it was always just them and my brother or just them. Her fiance NEVER went with them ANYWHERE. He started thinking there was someone else because they weren’t having sex, she didn’t want to be around him, wasn’t affectionate, barely talked to him. Weird thing is those same things were happening to my dad and step mom’s relationship of 12 years. December comes, and they’re “staying up so late” they fall asleep on the couch, her head on his lap, or shoulder, him sitting upright. Then it upgrades to them spooning on the couch. Then they start sleeping in my brothers room (he slept in the living room for a while before he started letting them sleep in there, I don’t remember the reason but he is 23). So they start sleeping in my brothers room. So the set up at that point was, my dad and A in one room, my brother in the living room, step mom in what used to be my dad and her room, the fiance on the third floor in what used to be his and A’s room, me and my family in the basement (it’s finished and there’s more room down here). Around Christmas, we find out she’s pregnant. The only people that knew were: me, my boyfriend, my brother and my dad. She didn’t want the fiance to know because she was planning on leaving him in a week from then, and she didn’t want our step mom to know because she didn’t want her to tell the fiance. I thought it was immediately weird, given the sleeping arrangements. So a week goes by, she goes to her old town to get her other daughter (court order—not gonna go into details w/ that) but the fiancé stays home for only the 2nd time. They make these trips every weekend, it was all 3 of them up until about the second week of December ‘23. She breaks up with him, and he comes down to my room, and is bawling. Like, I’ve never seen a man cry like that. He goes on to say that they havent been the same in months, there has to be somebody else she doesn’t love him anymore. We talk with him, try to comfort him, say our goodbyes and then he goes to get some things from our garage. My bf follows him, and the finance ends up saying either: they haven’t had sex at all since the miscarriage in September’23 OR they haven’t had much sex since the miscarriage in September ‘23. So he moves back to his home town, and then they come home on Sunday like they always do. Except this time, they start sleeping in A’s OLD bedroom. The one her and the fiancé shared. Even more privacy. Fast forward to now. They’re still sleeping in that bedroom, she has sex toys in her night stand (I thought she stole a hair claw from me so I went snooping, I know invasion of privacy but she had the EXACT hair claw that I had, and mine was missing), my dad waits on her, gets her food, drinks etc. He’s been to every single baby appointment she’s had (I did confront him abt this because I have 5 kids and he’s NEVER been to ANY of my OBGYN appointments or ultrasounds for them, his reasoning for going with her is that she has nobody up here), he asked my brother if THEY could take over his room again when she’s has the baby which is September. (Which makes the conceived month, December), He stopped making comments to me about wearing a tank top or shorts. He used to say something along the lines of “you look like a hooker” or “put more clothes on” now, nothing. My step-mom got sick and is in a nursing home now, and has been for over a month and he still hasn’t went back to his bedroom. He washes their clothes (in my head, what 48y/o dad would be washing/touching his 25y/o daughter’s bras, and underwear? He’s never done my laundry, and him and my step mom always did their own). I don’t think ITA for thinking these things, but I’m wondering what others would think if they were in this situation I guess.
Edit: I forgot to add, when they started sleeping in my brothers room I went in there to wrap presents for my kids. My dad had a white t shirt on the bed, and I picked it up. As I did that, the shirt unstuck itself. Clearly some “bodily fluids” (don’t know how explicit I can get but yes probably what you’re thinking). I told my brother, he IMMEDIATELY called my dad and confronted him. My dad said that it was indeed that, BUT he was in there alone. (Why are you doing that in your son’s room?) then he asked who knew. Brother told him just him, even though him, my step mom and myself knew. Then my dad said not to tell anybody else. This phone call was on the car radio on their weekend trip to her hometown. Completely fooled my brother, and since then if anything like that is talked about my dad in front of my brother, he gets super defensive IMMEDIATELY.

Alan's troubled because he found a Philips screwdriver in the pocket of his now-steady girlfriend (slash neighbour) Katrina, a wholly-unusual thing to be found about the person of a lady, and thus is suspected of seeing someone else, namely 'Garth' who's been doing work on her house. Alan is incensed, not because 'Garth' is a manual labourer and has probably never read a proper book, but because Alan thought he and Katrina were exclusive, he took her to Dubai for heaven's sake!
transcript

If you don't want to listen to something personal - and painful - I implore you to listen to Fern Cotton's Happy Place. This podcast will contain themes of rejection, sadness, loneliness, cuckoldry, thwarted expectations, life-disappointment and what used to be called before we had all this new words for everything, "A li'l bit fed up".

The only reason a lady might have a use for such a technical tool:

She said she was walking and wanted something to protect herself if someone 'sacked her, and that is absolutely fine, no-one is saying a woman has to follow the Queensbury Rules - it is perfectly fine for a woman under threat to feign vulnerability and say, "Please I just need to get my breath freshener" and then take hold of the mini screwdriver and in one fluid movement, drive it upwards through the chin and tongue of the attacker and run in the opposite direction while the attacker just says "UUUURRRRGGGGHHHH!" , before grabbing the handle of the screwdriver, which is still sticking out of the bottom of his chin remember, and pulls it out causing a rivulet of blood to squirt down onto his shirt and upwards to the roof of his mouth and out through his teeth.

Garth. Bloody 'Garth'! Grow up!

Not Gareth, mind you, 'Garth'. I wouldn't be surprised if he's called Gareth but he's a builder so he's cut a few corners and ended up with a name that doesn't quite meet building regs and hopes the customer doesn't notice! Ha haha! That's how I deal with it. He thinks he's so sexy, constantly pacing Katrina's house, measuring things with a tape measure and squatting down in shorts. You've got brown knees, big deal!

Wrong tone, Alan. You always misjudge the tone!

Sometimes I can be too melodramatic. The other day, I waited until it was pouring with rain and I went next door, which is where she lives, knocked on the door, didn't even put a coat on. She opened the door, saw me drenched, and said, "What are you doing? It's pouring down". I said, "Is it? I hadn't noticed". And then I had a big speech prepared which I'd lifted from the film Jerry Maguire, so I took in a deep intake of breath but I was leaning back too much and I inhaled a nose-ful of rainwater and just started choking while she quietly shut the door on me.

When 'Garth' has an accident and Alan has to drive him to the hospital, he finds his way into "the good books". It's basically sex-talk.

He'd broken both wrists, so I had to put his belt on for him. His seat belt. And we drove to the hospital with him in the back like a child and he said, "Is this a Range Rover Sport?", I said, "Yep". He said, "Oh, I drive a two-litre Discovery Sport!". I just nodded and said, "Well, if you want family versatility that comes with seven-seat practicality, you could do a lot worse". Well, when he stepped out of the car, I just burst out laughing! Yeah.
Later on, I drove Katrina home and she said, "Are you coming in?". I said, "I thought you were more interested in Action Man". She said, "He's no use to me anymore. I need a man who can use both hands". Well, my ardour rose and my knuckles whitened as I gripped the steering wheel and floored it like a scolded cat! Meow! Meow! That's both of them.
Suffice to say, I went back to her place, plopped her bum cheeks on the kitchen island and, well, chivalry dictates that I leave the rest to your imagination.

[SELLING, PRICED TO MOVE]
SHIRTS, TOPS
SMALL J CREW Slim Oxford Shirt AND Merona Casual Shirt
SMALL J CREW Thomas Mason Ludlow Dress Shirt
SMALL EVERLANE Shirt Charcoal
SMALL Brooks Brothers Zip Merino Sweater Striped
SMALL ZARA White Dress Shirt
SMALL Merona OBCD Short Sleeve and OBCD Long Sleeve Shirts
EXTRA SMALL Patterned Blue/Navy Blue Sweater
EXTRA SMALL Murano Linen Slim Fit Short Sleeve Button Down
SMALL Uniqlo Non-iron Cutaway Collar Dress Shirts x 2
SMALL TAYLOR STITCH Grey Shirt MiUSA
SHORTS and PANTS
30x30 TWO J CREW Bowery/Ludlow Slim French Navy Pants Stretch
30x30 J CREW Navy Fleece Lined Pants
31 LANDS END CANVAS Olive Shorts
30 LANDS END Fitted Navy Shorts
31x30 J CREW Wool Pants Hopsack Bowery Pants
TAILORING
38R MARKS AND SPENCER Navy Blazer Slim
FOOTWEAR
COLE HAAN Made in Maine Pinch Loafers with OG box, shoe bags 8.5
HI TEC Altitude IV Hiking Boots Dark Chocolate 10
NORDSTROM Chukka Boots Black Water Resistant, Ortholite 9
SEBAGO Campsides Camp Mocs Made in USA 9.5
ACCESSORIES
TWO Ties 2.5", Banana Republic, Silk, Cotton, Vintage Pink And Gray, Made In USA, Italy
FARIBAULT WOOLEN MILLS Weekender /Duffel Bag Navy / Tartan Plaid Wool / Canvas
HOW TO BUY
On Grailed, which now forces sellers to use exorbitantly priced labels of theirs (20 bucks for a pair of pants that I can ship via USPS for 4 bucks...), so message here for best price, bundling. I'll send full invoice via PayPal with same buyer protection and copy of the item page, etc: https://www.grailed.com/users/8189-crzyboystewardrobe
NOTES

• I tend not to do price drops until I'm out of free bumps, but please don't hesitate to make an offer meanwhile. I will also do my best to answer any questions you may have as soon as I can.
• I always ship at the latest by the Friday after you buy with tracking and generally via USPS priority or USPS ground package. International is no longer something I do; USPS has made it untenably expensive. Still, if interested, shoot me a message and I can see how much it comes out to.
• I have perfect feedback across many transactions (see history) and do my best to address any issues that may come up, so please purchase with confidence.

Finally, thanks for looking, and check out all my listings if you're so inclined. Happy to make deals (bundled shipping and possibly additional discount) for multiple purchases.

Hello, goths! As the weather heats up, many of us may struggle to adapt our typically dark and layered aesthetic to the summer months. But fear not, the summer season need not be a barrier to expressing your goth sensibilities. Here are some tips on how you can embrace "Goth Girl Summer" while staying cool and comfortable.
1. Choose Breathable Fabrics: Opt for natural fabrics such as cotton or linen, which are light and allow your skin to breathe. This also includes lace, which adds a quintessential gothic touch while keeping you cool.
2. Layer Wisely: It's easy to overheat in the summer months, especially if you're layering your outfits. Instead of heavy jackets or knitwear, opt for thin, light layers like mesh tops or sheer shirts, which can be paired with bandeaus or tank tops underneath.
3. Color Palette: While black is undoubtedly a goth staple, it's worth remembering that goth fashion is not exclusively about the color black. Shades of grey, white, or even pops of color can be integrated into your summer goth wardrobe without compromising the aesthetic. Remember, the goth subculture is rooted in individuality and personal interpretation.
4. Accessories: A true goth look isn't complete without the right accessories. This summer, opt for statement sunglasses, large-brimmed hats, or light scarves that can double as sun protection. Don't forget your favorite pieces of silver jewelry, which are often associated with goth fashion.
5. Summer Goth Footwear: Swap your boots for open-toed shoes like gladiator sandals or chunky platform sandals. If you can't part with your boots, choose ones that are made of lighter materials or have cut-outs.
6. Makeup: Opt for waterproof or long-lasting makeup to prevent it from melting off in the heat. Remember, sun protection is crucial, so don't forget to apply sunscreen, even if it's over your goth makeup.
Embracing "Goth Girl Summer" is about balancing your love for goth fashion with the practical realities of warmer weather. It's a great time to experiment and try out new ideas, whether that's incorporating different colors into your wardrobe or trying new types of accessories. After all, the goth subculture is rooted in innovation and individual expression, so don't be afraid to make it your own!
What are your favorite tips for adapting goth fashion to the summer months? Share your thoughts, ideas, and summer goth outfit inspiration in the comments below!
Goth Girl Clothing Videos Playlist

Me and Lila always carved dozens of jack o’ lanterns every October, so they’d absolutely saturate our lawn on Halloween night. It was our thing. But looking back on it, now that I’ve lost her, I just feel bad for the pumpkins. I almost relate to them, somehow. The way they were carved up, had everything of substance inside of them torn out, and left as hollow, rotting shells with forced smiles.
Needless to say, I didn’t cope with her death well. I didn’t want to cope with it. I wanted the world to drown in the black sludge of my grief. I loathed the people I saw going about their lives, unaware that the world had already ended the moment Lila died. The Earth shouldn’t keep spinning. Life shouldn’t go on. Not without her.
Even my relatives bringing me along on a trip to Kauai only made it worse. The most gorgeous place on Earth, and it made me sick with hatred. Nothing that beautiful deserved to exist if Lila wasn’t ever going to get to see it. It wasn’t fair.
I thought I’d never enjoy or care about anything again. Then I discovered media preservation.
It started with taking some of Lila’s old VHS tapes to a video repair place to fix some issues with the footage before it’s digitized. The job fascinated me. In a universe based on entropy, where everything inevitably fades away and is forgotten… restoring something lost is like snatching it from the jaws of death, right? Like flipping the bird to the universe and its so-called ‘natural order’. People die, but information doesn’t have to.
Now, it doesn’t matter how small — be it some god-awful plug-and-play licensed game, or a cereal commercial from 80’s — it’s my mission to recover it in as high a quality as I’m able, and make sure it’s freely available online for as long as possible.
A couple weeks ago, I came across a big haul. Four boxes of old VHS tapes offered up on E-Bay for dirt cheap. Most of the tapes were just recordings of Cheers episodes already preserved in higher qualities, but one Maxell E-240 caught my interest.
First of all, I’d never seen one so melted. Sure, sometimes they were left in an attic too long, and the colors and audio start to degrade. But this one looked like it had survived a house fire. It was covered in soot and the smell of smoke, and had the overall shape of a chocolate bar left out in the sun a little too long.
Second was the label, which read in neat sharpie: ᴇᴘɪꜱᴏᴅᴇ 4,679,329 ᴍᴀʀ 8 2035.
The casing was so disfigured, I had to bust it apart just pull out the tapes and respool them in a fresh cassette. I tried to iron out the creases in the tape as best I could, but I had no illusions about it accomplishing much — the mylar surface had been irreparably warped in places by whatever fire had half-melted the thing.
Imagine my despair at the sight of that dreaded ‘ɴᴏ ꜱɪɢɴᴀʟ’. I could clearly see the tape wasn’t blank, yet no amount of adjusting the tracking or trying different TVs or VCRs accomplished anything. Just as I was about to give up, though, the thing just suddenly started playing properly at the exact instant the clock struck 3 AM, as if it had only now decided to work. My all-nighter had paid off.
I didn’t dwell on the fact that this ‘miracle fix’ had been impossible. If I’d had any sense, I’d have torn the horrid thing out of my VCR and buried it beneath holy ground. Instead, fool I was, I sat down and watched.
At first, the thing seemed unwatchable. The audio was so distorted that the show’s theme song emerged as a low, crackling, staticky wail that made my head throb, and the logo was completely indistinguishable through the flickering and interference. I thought it was a lost cause for a moment. But then a figure appeared and cleared away the static, like Noah parting the Red Sea.
It was the sight of the show’s host that hooked me. He was just… perfect. Perfect in every way. I knew it just looking at him. Infinitely handsome and likable and charismatic, and he always said the exact perfect thing. The only issue is, I don’t remember a single thing about him now, in the same way you can’t remember a dream that seemed so clear to you while you were experiencing it. He just appears in my memory as this abstract blur in a sharp suit. Yet at the time, I was awestruck, even before he said a single word.
I can’t even remember a word he said. It was like he was speaking another language, one I felt as opposed to heard. I’ll try and transcribe it as best I can into words, but know that it’s only a pathetic imitation.
“... for another night of laughs, prizes, and fun for the whole family, with your host, #####!” I noticed that the audio and visual distortion seemed to suddenly intensify the instant he said his name, rendering it completely illegible. Idiot I was, I figured that was a coincidence. “Tonight is a night of celebration, folks, because thanks to the support of loyal viewers like you, we have just been approved for, get this: two hundred thousand more seasons!”
The “live studio audience” went wild with applause. I put that in scare quotes because, as far as I could tell, besides the host, the studio seemed completely empty. As if he was standing on a plain white stage that extended outwards into infinite darkness on all sides.
“For those just joining us, the game here is simple…” He explained that this was some sort of a trivia show. Every time a guest got an answer wrong, it brought them a little closer to some sort of unspecified ‘punishment’. And if they got it right? He smirked. “Well, they get to delay the inevitable.”
I wondered what he meant by ‘inevitable’. I didn’t have to wonder long.
The host gestured to a curtain that hadn’t been there moments ago, which raised to reveal a middle-aged man. You know the type — bushy mustache, gray hair, round-rimmed glasses. Kind of guy you’d have doing your plumbing. He couldn’t look any more out of place stood up and restrained in that — what the hell is that?
I recognized that metal coffin-looking thing from a medieval torture museum I went to once. The iron maiden. The lid hung open, countless long, needle-like blades poking inwards, threaten to poke a million new holes in him if it was shut.
His situation was not lost on him. “Where… where am I? What the hell is this!?”
“Oh, lucky guess!” The host ‘joked’. More canned laughter. “I know you always loved watching those trivia shows, Malcolm? Weren’t you always sitting there, grinding your teeth, seething that it wasn’t fair? That you should be the one up on stage, winning big?”
The man paused. Even he seemed mesmerized by the unreal perfection of the host before him. “I… this is a… game show?”
“All you have to do is answer a few questions! Think you can handle that, Malcolm?” He pulled out a cue card without waiting for an answer. “And our first question! What were you doing the night of February 18th, 1998?”
The man seemed baffled. “Just… sat on my couch watching the NFL, I think? I’m not sure how I’m supposed to remember —“
He let out a startled squeal as a horrid buzzer sounded. On cue, the lid slid a third of the way closed, making him flinch. “Oooh, I’m afraid that’s the wrong answer, Frank! But you know what? I’ll give you one more chance. What were you —“
“Following a girl home!” The man cried out. “F-from the bar. There, are you happy?”
“Cor-rect!” The canned audience began cheering! “Such honesty! Now, our second question: just what were you carrying while you followed her?”
He hesitated for a little too long. And then the buzzer sounded again, and the lid slid so near to closing that its blades began poking uncomfortably against his skin. He tried to press himself against the back of the maiden as well as his restraints would allow. “Jesus! Okay! A knife, a knife!”
“Awww, if only you’d said that just a second earlier!” Another big question. “Our third question: why, Malcolm? Why did you do it?”
That set Malcolm off. He started thrashing, clawing, screaming. “Let me out of this thing, you maniac! You can’t do this to me! Do you know who I am? Is this some sort of sick joke? My lawyers will have your head for this, you—“
And then the buzzer. All of a sudden, the lid slammed shut full-force, and the man was utterly silenced save for an unnatural, drawn-out wheeze. “Another wrong answer, Malcolm! I’m afraid I was looking for: ‘because if I can’t have her, no one can’!”
I admit it. I laughed. Out of shock more than anything. How was this allowed on TV? I took it as some sort of dark comedy show, and it was kind of satisfying to see that freaky character get his comeuppance. Still, there was something unnerving to me, seeing the man’s eyes through the openings in the maiden. Wide and red and terrified. They just looked a little… too real.
But the maiden disappeared as quickly as it came, before I could dwell on it too much. “Oh, envy! Definitely one of my favorite sins.” More laughter. “Stay tuned, folks! We’ve still got a night of fun and games in store for you! But first… how’s about a word from our sponsors?”
Cut to a corporate logo which I again couldn't recognize.
“This segment was made possible by Buer Health, which has recently announced a brilliant new initiative to protect our citizens from skin cancer by removing their skin completely.”
The camera cut to a massive industrial building, resembling a solid concrete cube around 50 meters in width and height. Its surface bore arcane symbols etched using carvings of wailing, tormented faces. The host would occasionally be rendered inaudible by a deafening metallic scraping from within, though he didn’t seem to notice. The only protrusion from the building’s cubic shape was a single smokestack, belching a scarlet red smoke into the atmosphere. A queue of gaunt figures waited at the entrance, herded and coerced by their grim overseers, and there were no words to describe the procession of scarlet ghouls limping out the building’s other end.
“Owing to the nonlinearity of time, the brand new Grand Skinpeeling Machine has spontaneously appeared several years before construction deadlines, and indeed, before it was even conceived of by anyone in our timeline. People have rushed all the way from Malebolge just to try this miracle of technology out on opening day, and so far, the reviews have been stellar!”
He shoved his microphone in the face of a shambling thing that could only scarcely be called a human. Tatters of flesh clung to its exposed musculature, blowing in the wind. Its eyes were the only hint of color in that sea of bloody red, and they were wide, white and terrified. The thing screamed and wailed for as long as it could before the last tendons connecting its jaw to its face snapped, and it was left to choke and gurgle.
“An amazing wail! The results speak for themselves, folks. The Grand Skinpeeling Machine is a hit!”
So far, I was still laughing along and having a good time. The sight of the next ‘guest’, however, started making me nervous.
It was an old lady.
She couldn’t be a day younger than sixty, the sort of sweet elderly woman who in a just world would be cooking chocolate chip cookies for her grandchildren in a comfy cottage somewhere. But here she was, tied to a metal chair, eyes wide, shaking like a leaf. Unlike the last contestant, she seemed to know exactly what was happening.
“In exchange for our loving endorsement, they’ve agreed to loan us one of their star employees. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for: the Liqisma!”
Something slunk from the darkness far behind her — or perhaps it’d be more apt to say that the darkness birthed it whole-cloth. It was like a living shadow, and it took my eyes a moment to register what I was even seeing.
How do I even begin describing this creature? I could say it looked almost human, or at least like something that may have been human long ago. Or I could start with its skin, which was all black and shiny as latex and seemingly smooth on first glance, but if you looked closer you’d realize it was covered in a million tiny reptilian scales, almost like a shark. Its head was a bald man’s, utterly devoid of any distinguishing features, like the basic stock template for a human being. It was notable only for a complete lack of pupils and irises, its eyes a pure white.
Its body defied basic biology in so many key ways, I had to stare it at for what felt like an eternity just to wrap my mind around its physiology. It was at least five or six meters long, by my estimate, composed of multiple human torsos stacked one on top of the other like segments of a centipede, each melding with the ones around it at the waist and shoulders. Each torso sported a pair of short, stubby arms that propelled it with terrifying grace. It ended with a pair of human legs, perpetually bent on their knees, beneath a ‘tail’ that looked more like its coccyx was poking free from its body.
The old last could clearly hear it, and kept futilely trying to turn her head around enough to get a peek at what stood behind her. I mouthed uselessly, don’t. You don’t want to know.
“Glad you could join us again, Miss Wethersby! Judging by our ratings last week, you seemed to have been a fan favorite!”
Her voice was so soft, I could barely hear it below the static. “Oh, God. Please, why won’t you people let me go? I’ve told you, I’ve never done anything, never hurt anybody. There must be some sort of—”
He waved a hand over her, and it seemed to forcefully snap her mouth shut. “Please, Miss Wethersby, save your breath for our questions!” Another cue card. “Your first question, my friend: where did you and your husband buy your first home?”
She had to think about it for a long time. Eventually, she cried out, “Alabama! Tuscaloosa, Alabama!”
“Ding ding ding! Why, you’re already doing better than our first contestant! Next question: what breed of dog was your childhood pet?”
She had a pained look on her face as she thought. Eventually, a timer started ticking down. It wasn’t visible, so it wasn’t clear how much time she had left exactly, but the sound it made got more shrill and high-pitched with every second. “Miss Wethersby, need I remind you that we have a time limit on this show?”
A tear ran down her cheek. “I… I keep telling you people, I don’t know. I have dementia, I can’t remember, please—”
That buzzer again. “I’m afraid that was the wrong answer! Liqisma?” The old lady shuddered at the sounds of hundreds of feet drawing a little closer to her. “Now, your first grandchild. What did he look like? What color were his eyes? His hair?”
She was crying harder now, like it hurt her that she couldn’t remember something so dear to her. “I told you I can’t remember! Why are you doing this to me!?”
“If you don’t remember them, why would they remember you?” The host mocked as the buzzer sounded, and the beast drew a little closer. “Really, do you believe they still even think about you? Or do you think they’re glad that the old bag of bones isn’t there sucking up their inheritance?”
This went on for… God, it could have been an hour. I was glued to the screen all the while, frozen with terror, praying for this nightmare to just end, for her to make it out okay somehow. He poured over every little detail of the life she lived and the people she loved, delighting in how little of it she could still recall.
And the thing grew closer, and closer… until she finally felt multiple pairs of hands resting upon her shoulders. The thing was looming over her now, and a long, black tongue a few feet in length emerged from its mouth and ran trails of dark saliva over the back of her head. She looked broken down, eyes raw from crying, and I could tell by the dampness of her dress that she’d wet herself.
“Now, Miss Wethersby, our time here has been fun, but I do believe it is time for our final question. Tell me, what is the name… of your only son?”
She couldn’t even answer anymore. She just stared ahead, like her mind was a million miles away. He cackled as the buzzer sounded one final time, and threw his cue cards aside. “Thank you for playing, Miss Wethersby. Better luck next time.”
I would say the thing unhinged its jaw like a snake, but that’d be an understatement. The way the thing’s face malformed and wrinkled and stretched as it opened its maw, it no longer looked even remotely human. Its jaws must have parted at least thirty centimeters apart, revealing a second, pharyngeal pair of jaws that lashed out and gripped the woman’s skull, pulling her headlong into that darkness.
I could hear bones crunching and snapping as its throat constricted down around her body, peristaltic muscles compacting her into a meat slurry, bit by bit. Yet she just wouldn’t die. Even as her skull and upper body were already crushed and compacted, organs and muscles pressed into mulch, she still kicked her legs, twitched her fingers, let out a gurgling that must have been some attempt at screaming. She was squirming even as the beast snapped its jaw shut around the last of her, condemning her to whatever torments awaited her inside the creature.
And all the while, that horrible laughter. “Don’t worry, folks! She’ll be back next week! And the next. And the next…”
Needless to say, I wasn’t having fun anymore. In fact, I had to turn away and fight the urge to throw up. I stood, about to turn the TV off and —
“Ah, ah, ah! Don’t touch that dial, now!” I froze. There was something chilling about the way he said that, staring right into the screen as if reacting to what I was doing. I hated that grin on his face. “The real show is just beginning.”
And with the barely restrained excitement of a child on Christmas morning, he yanked back another curtain, and I recognized everything.
I recognized that crappy bootleg knockoff Always Sunny in Philadelphia jacket that was so gaudy and terrible it instantly became her favorite thing in her wardrobe. I recognized those subtle hints of slight acne she disguised as fake freckles. I recognized the way her gray eyes would remind me of those overcast mornings at the beach at Hilton Head and pointing out all the cannonball jellyfish washed up on the sands. I recognized that tattoo of the name ʀᴏᴄᴋʏ, how I’d held her all night long as she cried into my shirt after her childhood cat had died.
It was Lila.
I shuddered, gasped, fell from my seat as if I’d been punched in the stomach and the air had been knocked out of me. I couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be real. I was dreaming right now. I must be. I just had to wake up.
But I couldn’t wake up. Nothing I could do dispelled the sight of her curled up in that… that thing. That bronze statue of a bull, horns jutting on either side of a head that roaring silently up at the heavens, all while the love of my life was locked in its hollowed out belly, visible only through a pane of glass. I could hear her cry out in shock at where she’d found herself, and every whimper felt like it drove a knife through my chest.
The host soaked in the moment. It was ecstasy for him, the suffering of it all. He stared dead into the camera like he was looking right at me as she called, “What is this? Where am I?”
“Why, I have good news, my dear Lila! You’re exactly where every American dreams of being: you’re on TV.” He pointed to the camera. “And we have a very special guest in the audience tonight. Your very own beloved Jackson!”
I shuddered, hearing my own name ooze from his fetid lips. His façade of perfection was slipping, and there was something so profoundly ugly beneath it. Her eyes snapped to the camera, confused, despairing. “Jackson? Baby? What — what’s happening? What is this?”
I don’t know, I thought, gripping the sides of the TV so hard my knuckles turned white, but I’m going to get you out of there, baby. I’m going to find whoever did this and I’m going to bury them all so far beneath that studio that they’ll never-
“I’m afraid Jackson hasn’t joined us quite yet, my dear. But if you truly love him, surely you’ll give him a show to remember, won’t you?” He taunted her. “All I want, after all, is to ask you a few questions! In fact, I’ll offer you a special deal: get even a single answer right, and I’ll let you go free! But get one wrong and, well…”
On cue, a fire was lit beneath her. Small, smoldering for now, but she whimpered as she noticed the heat. We both realized in that instant what this was. By now, I was screaming things I can’t repeat here, and slamming my hands against the TV screen as if I could reach through and save her.
She bit her lip and acquiesced. Not like she had any room to argue. The host grinned and readied a cue card. “Your first question: where are you, Lila?”
“I… I don’t know. How am I supposed to know?”
“You do know, Lila. You know exactly where you are.” He smirked at her. “Here’s a free hint: what’s the last thing you remember, before you woke up here?
She thought about it… and choked back a sob, visibly shaking as the realization slowly settled in. “But… but why? I… I…”
The horrible wail of the buzzer cut her off. “Oooh, too bad! I’m afraid you’ve run out of time!”
Seemingly as if on its own, the fire doubled in size. Sparks licked the belly of the bronze bull, and began to ever-so-slowly heat the surface. She pawed around in the tight confines, searching for any reprieve from the scalding heat all around her as the metal grew hot like it’d been left out in the sun on a summer’s day. “Please! Oh, God, let me out of this thing! It hurts! It hurts!”
The host seemed to breathe in her pain as if stealing a moment’s indulgence. “Now that there is no doubt about where you are, my dear, let us proceed to the second question.” He switched to his next card. “Did you believe in God, in the end?”
“O-of course!” She pled her case as if she was being tried in court. “My entire life… every day I gave to the poor, helped the sick, did whatever I could to honor Hi-“
“I’m afraid you misunderstood my question. I asked, did you believe in him at the end? The very moment your pitiful little life was snuffed out?”
“I always believed! I’d never forsake Him!”
“Yes, yes, I know. You lived a good and holy life, didn’t you?” He cackled. “But what of the very end? You and your little husband were so excited to deliver your first little baby boy. But o, tragedy! It all went wrong, didn’t it? Your precious little boy didn’t make it through childbirth… and you followed closely behind.”
“That whole business with the botched pregnancy, it was… what do you call it? Ah, yes. A ‘test of faith’. And I’m afraid you failed. In your final moments, you watched the light fade from your child’s eyes, and you assumed — wisely, in my humble opinion — that no ‘kind’ and ‘loving’ God would allow something like that to happen.” He laughed. “Funny how after a lifetime of dutiful service, all it takes is one little mistake at the end… to bring you here. To us.”
I’d never seen such depths of despair in a person’s eyes. Such emptiness. Like with every word, he’d been scooping out another piece of her until she was hollow. And then that buzzer roared again, more shrill than ever, and I could barely see her little window through the smoke and flames. The belly of the bull was turning orange in places, and I could hear her flesh start to sizzle like meat on a grill. There are no words for the noises she made. No words at all.
“And our last, final question,” he continued. “What were your last words to your poor, beloved Jackson?”
“I love you!” I called out the answer. Bloody fingerprints stained the TV screen from my slamming my hands against it, as I screamed the answer over and over. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” At some point, I forgot that there was ever a question. I was just screaming it at her as if hoping that she could hear it, that it could bring her a modicum of comfort in that place.
The buzzer sounded again. I couldn't bring myself to look. All I could hear was the roaring of the bull, and the steam rising from its bronze nostrils.
The curtain fell. Silence drowned the sound. The host dropped all pretense that he hadn’t been speaking directly to me. “Now, Jackson. You just might be one of my new favorite audience members this show had ever had. I know this must have been hard for you. But if you’ll just stay tuned, I have one more show I know you’re certain to love!”
I didn’t bother to touch the remote. After all, nothing could be worse than what I’d just seen, right?
Wrong. Horror wracked me as the curtain rose, and I saw the man chained to a chair. I pulled away like a caveman witnessing fire, cringing and stuttering, face wet with sweat. It was the sort of fear that worked its way into your bones like a bad chill, that left you shaking, teeth chattering.
It was me.
An older me, sure. But not by much. Ten years, maybe. A gaunt and hollow version of me, one twisted by ten years of depression and hard drugs. But it was unmistakable.
His eyes widened as he recognized the host. “Oh — oh God, God please no! It can’t be — oh Christ, let me out of this chair, you —“
“Come, now! We wouldn’t want to use the lord’s name in vain, would we? I mean, that would be a sin!” The host laid a hand on the other me’s shoulder. “It may have been a few years since you watched our program, but I’m sure you remember the rules, don’t you, old friend?”
The other me was wordless, on the verge of hyperventilating, just as I was. The host was giddy with delight. “Now! Our first and only question is one I’m sure our viewer will be very interested in: what sins, exactly, do you think landed you here?”
The other me tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. I could see it in his eyes. The years of self-destruction, the bitter hopelessness, the whirlpool of nihilism and vice and decay. The suffocating depths of a man. The darkness. How could he put it into words?
The sound of the buzzer was like a pig’s squeal. “Mmm, I’m afraid that our viewer is going to have to figure that out for himself! In the meantime, your punishment? Well, we wouldn’t want to spoil anything…”
The curtains slowly began to fall just as a couple other of those black, grotesque monstrosities emerged from the darkness. The curtain covered them all before I could get a good look at their obscene, twisted, asymmetrical figures. All I could hear was the crunching, the sound of skin tearing like paper, the screaming that went on for longer and louder than a human throat or vocal chords could endure.
The image and audio were beginning to distort, glitch, burn away. The tapes were physically melting as they played. My VCR was starting to overheat, sparks pouring from its front panel. The host voice jumped around in tone, his voice fading into the static blur as the tapes bubbled and boiled and distorted. “But, my friends, I’m afraid that concludes tonight’s episode of our show! So, with a final farewell to our dear, beloved viewer, Jackson…”
Just before the image melted away, the camera seemed to jump forward until his face filled the screen, his eyes piercing into mine as he cackled in that singsong voice.
“See you sooooon~”

First / Previous
So, everyone in town saw what had happened at the zoo on the morning news. Luckily, it seemed Andrew was a master of spin with authorities, so while the word spread like wildfire, everyone simply said, “Boys will be boys” and nobody blamed us. There was also no actual footage inside the zoo, only establishing shots, emphasizing the fact that this was private property and we could decide who to let in, and that did not include reporters. Andrew apparently only spoke once to those at our gate the next morning.
They were told that it was a rare territorial bear, who was even more protective than usual because she currently had cubs, having been impregnated to help the species grow. And there was no footage of the small fence that served as the only visible barrier, and no one doubted the police’s report, so that was that. Everyone was left to believe the two boys hadn’t just been foolish enough to break into a zoo and go into an enclosure, but that they had chosen the enclosure of a bear.
‘Everyone’, by the way, included my dad. For Stanley, however, I had written a note. I hadn’t wanted him to be ambushed at school about what happened, but I took the coward’s way out rather than waiting for him to wake up. Instead, I fell asleep at about 6 a.m. like I usually do after my shift. In the note, I apologized for what happened and for not being able to keep his friends safe. I went with the same bland cover story as the news.
Dad knew I tended to wake at a little after 1 p.m., though my alarm was set to wake me at two in the afternoon if I overslept. So, he took a late lunch from his job and came home when he knew I’d be up for the special occasion of freaking out at me for a few minutes. I’d just finished my breakfast when he walked in through the front door.
“I saw what was on the news, but what in the hell happened?” he snapped. “You’ve been working with these animals for weeks now. Are you saying this could have been you?”
“If I had about half as many braincells, sure,” I told him. He glared at me and I glared back defensively. “There’s a reason I’ve been working there for weeks and I’m fine. There are rules, and I follow them, not to mention I have my taser and pepper spray. But those are literally supposed to be used on intruders. The fact that I wish I’d tasered one of those boys instead of-”
I cut myself off, not wanting to start crying again like I had as I’d tried to get to sleep the previous night. Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes and let it out slowly before reopening them and looking to my father, who’d released some of the tension in his stance at the sight of this clearly affecting me. “This isn’t about me,” I growled. “It’s about two kids who didn’t listen when I told them they couldn’t come into the zoo. Who literally climbed the fence, went over to the nearest enclosure, and strolled on in as I continued to tell them over and over that they needed to leave.”
“I understand that part of all this,” my father told me. “What I don’t understand is how it happened. Were they really so stupid that they walked past the signs saying it was a bear enclosure?”
I shook my head tiredly. “There are no signs,” I told him. “There don’t need to be signs because the private parties who pay for a tour have a tour guide with them. That’s my boss. He talks about the animals and answers questions.”
He finally fell into a chair at the table I was sitting at, adjacent to me, letting out a long sigh of pent-up exhaustion that had clearly been simmering since that morning. “Listen, Rip, I don’t want you to be doing a dangerous job just because it pays well,” he said. “Is that what this is?”
“No,” I said softly. “I mean, the pay is part of it, I won’t lie, but this is…important. The animals are important. I’m putting together enrichment ideas right now. The first one went great, so I’m going to try all the others on my next shifts. And the animals are treated really well. The owner sincerely cares about them; it’s obvious from how much effort she put into building this zoo for them.
“And it’s not just that the money is good; I genuinely enjoy my job. Most of it has been sitting and reading, checking the cameras, and I’ve been able to watch the animals. Like I said, I can’t talk about them, but they’re incredible. This job is important, and…” It took me a moment to finish what I wanted to say. “I want to do important things. With all the horrible shit people do every day, I’m in a place where what I do matters and I see the results, and it…it’s awesome.”
My father stared at me for a long moment before looking away, having some internal debate. “Okay,” he finally said quietly. Some crumpled up tension in my chest released when he spoke that word. “If you say you’re not in danger, I trust you. And I get how much pride you have for what you do. I don’t want you to quit when you’ve been so happy there. It’s clear to me that it makes you genuinely happy.”
I blinked. “Really?”
He managed a small smile as he met my gaze. “You kidding? You got home one morning recently and instead of going to bed you made chocolate-chip pancakes, leaving them in the fridge with a little note that said, ‘For my favorite brother and favorite dad’. The only time you cook is on our birthdays. Not to mention you complain less. Even working in the back of a store, you always had someone who bothered you. Now, with no coworkers to deal with and working with animals, I hear no complaints, not even about your boss. I’m not sure how much you’re familiar with the average person, but pretty much all of them have some sort of complaints about their boss.”
“Right.” I gave a half-smile and shrugged. “He seems like good guy. Always was, from the start. And yeah, he’s the only one I work with. And he didn’t even…” My voice trailed off as my brain caught up with what I was saying.
“Rip?” my dad prompted.
I sighed. “So…he didn’t blame me. For what happened.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why would he blame you? This wasn’t your fault.”
Leaning back in my chair, I wrung my shirt in my hands. “I didn’t stop them,” I told him. “I could’ve backed up my threats to tase them or spray them-”
“Oh no, no no no,” my dad told me. “I don’t want to hear that. You’re thinking this is about how you back off from confrontation, right? You were wary about this job because of the ‘security guard’ label. You mentioned that. Is that what you’re getting at?”
“Yeah.”
“Ripley, look at me.” I did so. “You are not responsible for what happened to those boys,” he said, his voice soft but firm.
I took a breath. “Okay,” I said.
That’s why my dad is so great. He gets me. Do you have a parent who gets you? If not, I suggest you get a surrogate, because that is a role that can make your life infinitely better if it’s filled with someone competent.
I know I mentioned I take pain pills for an old shoulder injury. What I didn’t mention was what happened to me that put me in this state. High school was a bit difficult for me, because I’m asexual. The fact that I knew that by the time I was sixteen, thanks to the internet, probably saved me a lot of trouble in life, but being ace as a teenager meant saying no to boys. One of them took offense to that. I don’t like talking about it, but he got a four-year stretch in juvie/prison. That means he’s out now but, thankfully, he did move to another state.
He didn’t rape me, if that’s what just came to mind, but I ended up in the hospital after he physically assaulted me, including repeatedly kicking me while I was down, literally. To this day I have chronic nerve pain, and occasional numbness and tingling, in my left shoulder. I also have a chronic issue of being hesitant to stand up to people. Great characteristic for someone who’s supposed to be a security guard, right? Except if I’d said that out loud, my father would’ve pointed out that Andrew told me my weapons were for defense, not offense. And he’d be right.
My dad shook his head and pushed himself back to his feet. “I’ve got to get back to work. Just…” Rubbing his hands over his face, he blinked a few times, trying to dislodge everything that was bothering him from his brain. “If you do ever have a moment there where you’re unsafe, promise me you’ll quit, okay? No job is worth your life.”
I stared at him for a few moments, unsure of what to say. When I’d first met Yui, I’d been terrified, but had I actually been unsafe? Well, no, as was proved by the wards keeping her from me. So, I let myself sink into the feeling of being loved and cared for by my dad, which put a genuine smile on my face. “I promise,” I said. And I hoped I wasn’t lying.
I know that I’ve complained a lot about other people being stupid, so I hope that I’m not being stupid. You might understand why I have such disdain for our species, but at this point you know it’s not because of excessive ego issues. Though I’ll admit to having a larger ego than typical. If you don’t understand, all you have to do is look at us, and I don’t mean look at what we do to the planet, which is bad enough. I mean look at us.
Do you know why places all over the country have problems with bears getting into their garbage cans? It’s because there’s a significant overlap between the smartest bear and the dumbest human. That’s not an exaggeration; look it up. Us wildlife biology majors have tried our best, and the perfect garbage bin has yet to be designed.
It bothers me like a sibling sitting next to you who would continuously poke you until you boil over and punch them. Stanley went through a phase when he was a kid where he was a little shit who’d do stuff like that. But the worst is when they try to use logic to justify something completely absurd, looking like a three-year-old with Lincoln Logs, presenting a house and declaring it fit for their hamster to live in when it could collapse if you breathed on it.
With Gary and Shaun, it wasn’t just that they hadn’t known what was in the enclosure they’d wanted to go into, but that they’d kept pushing me away when I tried to keep them from it. And so, getting back to the security office tonight was a bit surreal. I didn’t know if I was supposed to call Andrew again, discuss the incident, or whether it was best to just assume things were taken care of.
Actually, I already knew they were, to some extent. Andrew said Suzanne had gone to see the parents of the boys in person and was going to cover all funeral costs, no matter what the parents wanted done. That was a huge deal, considering how much that industry tries to squeeze out of you when a loved one dies.
While we’re on that topic, all of that doesn’t make sense to me. We are supposed to preserve our bodies, which are completely decomposable, and then put them in airtight boxes priced at ten thousand dollars?
That was not my area, though, and I was glad for it. I’ve been trying as hard as I can to put their deaths out of my mind, though I’ve only been marginally successful. Most of what I’m going over again and again was what I could’ve done differently. I determined that I could have kept them from going in the enclosure by tasering just one of them, and that would’ve been better than nothing. So, it was decided. If anyone ever tried it again, they were getting zapped. Even if they tried to sue us, I don’t care. It wasn’t worth their lives.
Today, though, my mind was occupied with enrichment activities.
Andrew told me about the animal in enclosure nine in passing, saying that he wished the boys had chosen that one. Apparently the consensus is that whoever on Earth invented the chupacabra must’ve seen one of these, because it was vampiric, preferring goats as its prey. Not that it wouldn’t go after humans, blood was blood, but it would’ve given me a chance to save the boys, since it would have taken time to drain enough blood to be fatal.
In regard to the enrichment for enclosure nine’s animal, I was thinking about hanging bags of blood from trees and letting it pounce on them in midair, tearing them down. They’d be made from extra thick plastic, of course, so blood wouldn’t go everywhere. But honestly, nothing beat the fact that all the animals received live prey to hunt, so that wasn’t exactly an innovative idea.
I settled on olfactory enrichment, which was a strategy that used objects that smelled like cooking extracts, spices, and/or fresh herbs. Essentially, the equivalent of engaging its brain in that part of hunting, but with toys instead. That would have to wait until I could see it, though, so I put my notes aside in anticipation of another boring shift.
However, two hours later I had some more excitement when I saw my next animal. I wasn’t sure how fast this was supposed to happen, but things seemed to be moving quickly. At least compared to Andrew’s estimate of three months. Maybe he meant that was the point at which I would become comfortable with the animals as animals, but I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever get to that point. They’re too spectacular.
My encounter was different, in that I didn’t see the animal first; I saw its prey. There were a handful of animals I’d seen wandering around the enclosures, including the typical ones like squirrels and rabbits to ones that had been put in there purposefully to be hunted like goats and sheep. Allegedly there were also deer, but I hadn’t seen any of those.
I was walking my route and passing the small lake when I heard the roar again. The one that prickled at the hairs on the back of my neck, thrumming through my body and priming me for fight or flight. Slowing to a stop, I kept my flashlight off, since the lamps gave off plenty of that red glow I’d become accustomed to. Then, I saw a shadow start to rise out of the lake and realized it was coming up onto the shore.
“Holy shit,” I muttered under my breath, taking a couple steps back instinctively.
Roger had named this one Fiona and called her a seal-hippo, and I could see why. She was amphibious with a round head, long neck, and the body of a hippo, though unlike hippos, I knew for a fact she wasn’t a vegetarian. She had short, sharp tusks, shaggy fur instead of the smooth skin of a seal, and her flippers had claws. Those claws could easily disembowel any prey it went after.
She seemed to be curious about me. Eyes that seemed too small for her head faced forward and locked onto me, which froze me in my tracks. Her jaw spread wide in a yawn, revealing teeth fit for a carnivore and I jerkily took two more steps backwards. My heart pounded in my chest and I blinked rapidly to keep focusing on her rather than avert my gaze, as my instincts were urging. Her front flippers were probably eight feet from tip to tip, and I feel like she must never have problems killing anything, whatever her prey of choice was. Her eyes flashed under the red lights as she scanned the area around me and then trundled further forward, vibrating the ground, which I felt through my shoes.
This was the point where my mind made connections to Jurassic Park. It just felt like this thing was from another epoch. Then she roared.
For those of you who don’t know, there is something called ‘infrasound’. Essentially, it’s a sound found in the roars and snarls of animals like big cats and bears, and our hindbrains have earmarked it so we panic if we hear it. Funnily enough, it’s often found in older buildings, the deep resonance of an elevator built fifty years ago turning out to be one of the reasons people ‘feel’ a place is haunted.
That’s what I felt, deep in the pit of my stomach. I knew that’s what I was feeling. This thing was a predator, I was prey, and there was nothing I could do about it. So, I didn’t. I watched it for a few minutes as it lumbered around, scanning its surroundings, no doubt smelling things that my dinky little nose would never detect. After a while, once my heartbeat had slowed to merely double its typical rate, I managed to get full control over my legs again and slowly turned, keeping the animal in my peripheral vision as I continued on my way.
And yes, of course, there was a little part of my mind that had the same awe you saw in the faces of the main characters in Jurassic Park when they see brachiosaurus grazing in a field. This job has its ups and downs, and its downs are way down, but its ups are way up. It’s a hell of a gig.
First / Previous
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storiesbykaren

This story requires context, so bear with me. I (25f) make good money for my age and position, and am also putting myself through a masters program. One thing I’ve always loved and enjoyed is clothes and style; I dress sort of edgy-clean, if that makes sense. I love sales- I normally shop at places like Hollister, American eagle, and Garage clothing, but also Marshall’s and Target. Not cheap but not extremely expensive, and I care about how I present myself so I put a lot of thought into my clothes. I’m also horribly allergic to nickel, which a lot of silver jewelry contains, so ever since I was little I’ve only ever worn gold. Gold is expensive, so it’s taken me a long time to accumulate a collection of gold jewelry that I really love and matches my style. My boyfriend has never ever made me feel the way he suddenly has in the last week. He also has a very set style (which I love in a man). He dresses in only black and white and his style is very “alternative x cyber punk”, and I love it, but he mainly wears sweatpants and a hoodie, nothing crazy or over the top. We recently went on a vacation to a very expensive and wealthy area of the world, and there were a lot of luxury brands stores there. Throughout the week that we were there, he had suddenly dropped on me that he absolutely despises the color gold. He hates gold jewelry, the whole lot. I felt a little bad about that but I wasn’t going to be able to change that for him and didn’t want to, so I ignored it. I wanted to pop into the luxury brands for a bracelet, but I didn’t want to spend a fortune. This city’s first language was French and I am fortunate enough to speak French, so I tried to help my boyfriend with translations in the first store, Prada, but he was hellbent on speaking slang and difficult-to-understand/translate-English with the poor sales woman. He wound up purchasing an $800 tee shirt, which isn’t like him, but I supported it, though I was getting annoyed with how he was speaking to the woman who didn’t speak much English, saying things like “that’s sick” and me having to retranslate that into a compliment. She wound up gifting me a very expensive bag at the end of the interaction, she was so sweet. He wound up asking me not to translate again, because he said that it was easier to pretend to be rich in stores like that if you just spoke English to them, not matter how difficult. I didn’t totally understand but it was very clear that he was embarrassed by my translating, so I didn’t do it again. Next we went into another luxury store, Dior, and I was looking at jewelry this time. I liked these rope bracelets but he wanted me to try a gold choker. It was extremely thick and flashy and had “DIOR” in big letters across my throat, and I’m not a flashy person, so I wasn’t interested. His response was “you should get a necklace at least, you don’t own any nice jewelry”. I ignored that comment even though it hurt, and bought the bracelet I wanted, which came as a set, one black and one white. A few days later, we were going back into the city to shop and get dinner with his family. I wore a white and pink dress, so I wore the white bracelet, and he was wearing his new tee. He asked why I wasn’t wearing the other bracelet and I said because it didn’t match, and he told me to just give it to him if I was going to waste it. I ignored that as well, and we left for town. When we got there, he noticed I was wearing my Calvin Klein purse, and got upset, asking why I didn’t wear the Prada bag that the woman had gifted me. I hadn’t worn it because it was absolutely massive, like I probably could have curled up and gotten inside of it, but he said I should have worn it because it was nicer than my purse. Next, we went into Louis Vuitton, and I was not shopping for myself at this point. He picked up a pair of sunglasses and clearly liked them, but they were also extremely flashy, and GOLD. I pointed that out to him and he said “what? I love gold.” Which caught me off guard, so I told him that he’d made me feel bad all week about my gold jewelry but now he was purchasing gold sunglasses, and he said “it’s different. I hate gold jewelry, not sunglasses” ah, as if that makes sense. He buys the sunglasses. I’m not going to lie and say I liked them- they were tacky and I’m pretty sure they were women’s sunglasses, but whatever. He took them out to wear almost immediately, and wouldn’t stop staring at the box or taking them off to stare at them, which at this point was making me feel weird and awkward. Next, he bought a very expensive ($2.2k) bracelet, but I sort of blacked out for that interaction because I was so upset about the gold comments. When we got to dinner, he spent the entire time talking about how much money he’d spent on his new things, and made everyone pass around the sunglasses. He proceeded to wear all of those items on the plane back home, and when he finally put the sunglasses back into his backpack, he opened the bag repeatedly throughout the flight to “look at the sunglasses again”. It was annoying. I thought the brand snobby stuff would end when we got back home and back to normal, but yesterday we went to target and after I’d looked through the clothes, I asked him if he’d like to look as well and he scoffed at me and said “no, I won’t wear target clothes.” And I said “I wear targets clothes, you should be careful about insulting me” and he said “true, but you’re not boujee.”, I got upset and told him he wouldn’t be able to tell the cost of anything that I owned if he tried because I’m not obnoxious and flashy, and he told me I was causing a scene, which I was, so I let it go. Now, we have another trip coming up in a few weeks that we haven’t booked the flights for, and this is where I’ve gotten very insulted and angry. He’s suddenly saying that he won’t fly economy and sit in the normal seats, that he wants and deserves business class or pods. I think it’s a waste of money for the short flight, and also my father has offered to pay for my seat because the trip is special for me. My boyfriend said that it’s not his fault if me and my dad want to be cheapskates, and he’s not sitting with the cheap people. I warned him that my father will be really upset if he leaves me by myself on a flight on purpose like that, and he laughed and said he can’t help us from being so cheap. I have since told my dad about this predicament, and he is livid. He’s extremely protective of me when it comes to airplanes and trips (he particularly hates the city we are flying to) because he travels frequently and has witnessed a lot. I haven’t told my boyfriend that my dad knows yet, but he’s going to catch hell from my dad when we go to book the tickets, and I’m not sure if I did the right thing by telling my dad ahead of time. Throughout these last few days, he’s kind of hinted that my clothes and jewelry embarrass him for not being very boujee or luxury, and I’m not even really sure what to do here. AITA for not upgrading my flights and embarrassing my boyfriend?

FYI, this is a story COLLECTION. Lots of standalones technically. So, you can basically start to read at any chapter, no pre-read of the other chapters needed technically (other than maybe getting better descriptions of characters than: Adam Vir=human, Krill=antlike alien, Sunny=tall alien, Conn=telepathic alien). The numbers are (mostly) only for organization of posts and continuity.
OC Written by Charlie Stastarrfallknightrise,
Typed up and then posted here by me.
Proofreading and language check for some chapters by u/Finbar9800 u/BakeGullible9975 u/Didnotseemecomein and u/medium_jock
Future Lore and fact check done by me.
The plot thickens!
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Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
The Rundi pilot maneuvered his ship around a chunk of space debris, cutting low as he watched the slow and leisurely path of the rocket as it began on its trajectory towards the moon. Radar was almost impossible to use in the deadly debris field these humans called an orbit, so it was up to his eyes to make out any incoming hostiles.
They circled low and then wide around the slow-moving rocket, keeping their distance while also keeping an eye out. It was easy enough, as the drone was covered in cameras and sensors, which allowed them to see from almost every angle. A human might have been better at this, but right now they were the only ones they could trust.
[…]
A green folder rested atop the lectern as the President of the UN gave her halting, and to the chairwoman it seemed, unenthusiastic speech. The humans down below didn't seem to notice, making her wonder if she was simply imagining things, though a part of her said that was not the case.
She had been suspicious of the UN president from the very beginning, the very beginning when she was given power after the first launch of the enterprise, and they had been forced to deal with her during treaty negotiations. At every step there seemed to be some sort of obstacle, something wrong, some reason that the humans could just not accept. It went on behind closed doors and in quiet whispered conversations. But luckily for them, people like Adam Vir and Admiral Kelly had been there to smooth things over between the two factions.
The chairwoman knew better than most, that there were only a few humans in the galaxy holding everything together.
And the last thing she wanted was bad relations, or to go to war with this species. It would be a nightmare.
She shifted in her seat as she listened to the speech. The valley below her still had traces of smoke let off by burning so much fossil fuel at once. She imagined that such a stunt wasn't entirely great for the atmosphere of the planet, though as far as she knew humans tended to run on sustainable clean energy these days.
The Chairwoman stepped down from the little podium and into the back where she could not be seen, leaning in so she could hear the words whispered from her assistant,
"The drones are deployed, and so far we have not met any resistance.”
She nodded slowly,
"Good work, keep an eye out."
[…]
The UN president felt her fingers digging into the soft paper of the green folder. The red one was lying discarded under the lectern, and she was having trouble concentrating, forcing herself to remember that this wasn't over. She glanced into the crowd, expecting to see that strange white face staring up at her from the throng of people, but there was nothing.
Had she seen it as in her imagination, or did she really see an alien face staring back at her?
She glanced upwards, towards where the rocket had vanished, only half paying attention to the practiced words that dribbled from her mouth. She finished her speech and the people below clapped and cheered heartily, though she didn't much feel like clapping with them.
She turned on her heel and walked down to the back of the stage to where her entourage was waiting for her. Admiral Massie was sitting on one end and Admiral Kelly was sitting at the other, the two of them doing their damndest to ignore each other at all costs.
She sat down next to Admiral Massie, arms crossed over her chest as he leaned in to speak with her.
"That didn't exactly go as planned."
He muttered softly.
"It will if your men are ready."
She snapped back, her palms cold and sweaty.
Admiral Massie nodded,
"Of course, they should come out when they reach the densest part of the debris field, that way we can make it look like some unexpected collision."
He glanced towards the lectern,
"So I would keep a hold of that red folder of yours."
On the other set of chairs, Admiral Kelly was giving them a sidelong glance. Everyone knew that she was in Admiral Vir's camp, licking his boots at every opportunity. It would be within their best interest to keep silent when she was around.
The UN president leaned back in her seat,
"You should be on your way, Admiral. We will have time to talk later."
He stood and nodded slowly,
"Of course madame president."
He turned to walk away, catching the eye of Admiral Kelly as he stepped past. The two of them didn't much like each other, though as the head of the OGI (Office of Galactic intelligence) Admiral Massie had enough pull to keep Kelly in her place.
The UN president turned her head away. Not wanting to draw attention to herself.
[…]
Admiral Kelly glanced over at the UN president as Admiral Massie passed by. There was something about those two spending time together that she didn't like. Granted it was more than likely the two of them were having some sweaty, wrinkly liaisons out of hours which she didn't really want to think about, but if that was the case then he could easily be pressing his planetary isolationist views off on her.
Kelly did not think highly of the UN presidency. Right now, it seemed mostly concerned with power and political favors with the people, rather than doing the right thing. Plus, she found the president herself to be superficially charming, but easily manipulated by the wrong people. Fear mongering worked the best on her, which is why she worried about Massie and his effect on her to begin with.
She found herself digging her nails into her palms as she thought about it.
”Please help us.”
Admiral Kelly shot up in her seat looking around as she tried to find the source of the noise, or the voice. She turned in her seat expecting to find someone whispering in her ear, but there was nothing. She pressed at the implant along the side of her neck wondering if someone had called her and she just hadn't noticed?
”Look up.”
Jolted again, lifting her eyes towards the sky and the burning sun. She threw up a hand to block her vision, and as she did, she thought she saw a shape floating there against the backdrop of the sun.
She squinted hard trying to make it out but was having trouble.
”Now look into the crowd.”
She turned her head down, still not sure where the sound could be coming from, but as she looked into the crowd, she saw a strange sight. One of the people was wearing a dark hoodie, and was turned away from the direction which the rest of the crowd was facing. Their hood was pulled low, but ever so subtly, they lifted their head to reveal a porcelain white face, with large dark eyes.
Admiral Kelly went very still as she stared at the starborn.
“Not a starborn, a halfbreed. My name is Eris, I am Admiral Vir's... daughter”
Oh... oh, yes she had heard about the starborn hybrid from one of his reports.
"What do you want."
She mouthed quietly.
“We need your help, the UN president is planning to have Admiral Vir Killed, and Admiral Massie is on his way to make the order, please, you have to do something."
Admiral Kelly jolted to her feet, very quickly glancing at the UN president in shock and horror before she was able to capture her emotions. The UN president looked up to her sudden movement, and Admiral Kelly had to fight to keep her face neutral as the woman looked up at her.
"Are you feeling well Admiral?”
She could feel the sweat dripping down her face and the nape of her neck, but she remained as calm as possible as she took a deep breath,
"I... Am suddenly very dizzy. I think it's the heat."
"You should sit down, have someone bring you some water."
The woman said, her voice calm and clear as if she hadn't just ordered the murder of Adam Vir.
"No I... I think I need to walk for a minute and find some shade. You will excuse me?"
The UN president shrugged and turned back to staring at the sky, giving Admiral Kelly time to step forward and hurry after General Massi's retreating figure.
[…]
General Massie stepped into mission control and walked down the blank empty corridors. No one was here, they were all either in the control room or out celebrating the successful launch. It had been a sight to see, two-thousand-year-old technology working for one more time, but personally General Massie saw it as completely obsolete and a useless waste of government capital.
That was something they could have been using to help fortify earth's defense nexus. Out of all the useless things Admiral Vir had supported, at least he had agreed that they needed SOME form of defense against extraterrestrial attack.
General Massie made a face…
Though he wouldn't doubt Admiral Vir would have been totally fine leaving their planet with its pants down in order to let those Xenos fuck them over.
Everyone and their dog knew that Admiral Vir preferred alien cock over his own kind.
The thought made Admiral Massie cringe.
It was a well-kept secret among the UNSC, but the man wasn't nearly as secretive as he liked to think he was. Rumors of his infatuation with the stupid blue beetle alien had reached command almost as soon as it began. The only reason they didn't allow it to leak was that it would make the UNSC look bad to the rest of earth.
And Jupiter how he hated that man.
Stupid, juvenile egotistical xeno fucker!
Today was the day all of that came to an end!
He cut right, just before the doors to mission control and walked down two more hallways, finally opening a small side door into, what might have looked from the outside, like an equipment closet. He stepped over a mop and bucket and sat down at an old console, which he fired up with the flick of a button.
"Flight 1 this is Earth 1 over."
"Roger earth one this if slight one, in position over."
He turned on the screen, giving himself time to look the radar over, as twenty dots appeared on screen. Those were twenty Thunderhawks they had slowly appropriated over the intervening year.
With a place as big as the universe to cover, it was pretty easy to lose a few jets in the shuffle. He could see them now, illuminated as little green dots on his screen, hiding in the debris.
"Flight one this is Earth one, Operation “After Apollo” is go. Now remember boys and girls, make it look like an accident. Over."
*"Roger that Earth one. Over and out."
[…]
"You TRAITOR!"
Admiral Massie spun in his seat, eyes wide and wild as Admiral Kelly stood in the doorway. She could feel her skin growing hot with absolute rage as she stalked forward over the open floor. In one hand she held up the small recording device Conn had handed to her outside the building, and on it held proof of this man's order. On the screen behind him twenty little dots burst to life.
She was too late.
The man slowly got to his feet as Kelly aimed her handgun at him, her grip steady, her aim true.
"Call off your dogs."
She snarled,
Admiral Massie slowly lifted his hands, before slowly leaning forward in his seat towards the intercom button. She stepped forward, watching him intently as he leaned over the console pressing down on the button.
"Flight one this is earth one..."
Her eyes flickered up to the screen waiting to see them pause.
But before she knew what was happening an elbow came up striking her on the hand and causing the gun to spin out of her grip. Admiral Massie turned and tackled her to the floor, his nearly 300 lb body crushing her to the floor.
The wind was knocked out of her and she gasped as he struggled to pin her to the ground.
Her hat had flown off and her bun became undone as he drew back a fist to punch her. She was able to block it with her forearms as he raged and went for her face. The blows rained down on her from above with an onslaught of power she wasn't expecting but should have.
She took another gasping breath, and then with a surge of adrenaline she bucked, throwing him forward where she grabbed one of his arms and bucked again, forcing him to his side and onto his back. Still gripping his arm, she threw herself sideways, throwing her legs over his chest and struggling with his arm to pull it flat.
He kicked and grabbed at her legs with his other hand painfully gripping her calves as his nails dug into her skin and drew blood. The pain was incredible, but she finally got his arm down tucked tight to her chest, her legs across his chest, and then she jerked her hips sharply upward.
Admiral Massie screamed as his elbow snapped backwards.
She let go of him and scrambled towards the console, but at the last moment he grabbed her by the foot and hauled her back to the ground, one arm hanging limp and useless at his side. He clawed at her with one hand, and she rolled onto her back, kicking up at his face with her boot catching him square in the chin.
He staggered back as she crawled to the console and reached to adjust the frequency, ready to call in lunar support.
There was a sharp click behind her, and she froze, turning in her seat to find Admiral Massie standing behind her gun held in his good hand.
Blood leaked from his nose and down onto the front of his uniform, staining the grey fabric red,
"Nice try, Kelly."
[…]
Donovan Red waited, spinning slowly as he watched the progress of the distant rocket. Inside his helmet his breathing was cold and calm as, ranging all around him, his other men and women waited as well. Their ships had been outfitted with proper weapons as they had ridden here in the cargo hold of the Omen. The group of them weren't soldiers or trained fighter pilots, so he didn't imagine this would be easy, but it was going to have to do.
"Red, this is Apollo 11 do you copy?”
"Yeah Cinderella, I copy."
"See anything?"
"Nope not a..."
He paused,
"Wait..."
There was something, something he thought he saw detach itself from another piece of space junk,
"Hold that thought Apollo."
He detached from his own bit of space junk and inched forward.
A thunderhawk? What would one of those be doing here?
It began to accelerate.
He accelerated after it.
Up ahead the rocket was growing larger and larger in his view.
“Thunderhawk has made lock.”
The cool female voice said from his console.
"Oh shit, Admiral r-“
He didn't have time to finish his sentence as a small ball-like-silver ship came pelting down from nowhere, blasting the Thunderhawk in the wing with a sharp burst of laser fire. It's wing exploded and it went careening in the opposite direction as the silver ball whizzed past.
"What the fuck!?"
He turned to fly after it, but was stopped.
"Red, this is Wendy, stand down that's a Rundi UAV."
"Rundi? I thought it was the Rundi we were worried about!?”
He called in confusion.
"Yeah, but that thunderhawk had locked in on Apollo 11. It looks like the Rundi are helping."
He grunted and cursed under his breath,
"Boys and girls, if you see a silver ball stand down, those are on our side."
Just then another Thunderhawk shot over his head. He cursed again and pulled himself into a sharp upward turn cutting after the Thunderhawk and locking on. His lock cut off their attempts to shoot down the rocket, and they were forced to dive under as he followed after. He followed, spinning right and left around debris as the Thunderhawk attempted to escape.
It cut upward, just in time for a bright pink jet with graffiti words on the side to shoot out of nowhere.
The Thunderhawk exploded in a cloud of debris as Wendy roared by.
"Good shot, girl!”
He said over his radio.
"Thanks boss. Now let’s give them hell!"
[…]
Admiral Vir floated before the console, knuckles white and unable to do anything. A silent explosion flashed in his vision to the right as quickly as it had begun. Richards and Chavez started with wide eyes and dropped mouths.
"Admiral what the hell is going on!?”
Adam took a deep breath,
"It seems as if we are under attack."
The two of them exchanged glances,
"From who? What the fuck!?!"
Adam turned where he stood to look at the two of them,
"I am sorry I got you two into this mess, but the isolationists have been gunning for me for a few months now, and it seems as if now things have come to a head.”
"What are we going to do!"
"Radio Houston."
Chavez hurried to do as ordered, but when she did, they heard only static,
"Shit... Something is jamming our coms."
Adam took a deep breath,
"Well I guess all we have is Donovan to protect us. Lets' hope they do it right."
[…]
Admiral Massie laughed,
"You're as dumb as you look Kelly."
She stood, slowly wiping blood from her cheek as she turned to look down the barrel of the gun. Her own gun.
She didn't generally tend to agree with Massie, but this time he did have a point. Surprisingly though she was very calm,
"You aren't going to get away with this."
She glanced over to where the little silver recording device lay in the shadows under one of the chairs.
Massie was too amped to notice.
"Doesn't matter. I will have done my duty to my planet and my people, saving them from alien lovers like you and that bastard Vir."
"Whose Idea was this, the President or yours?"
She held her hands out to the side.
"Do you think that dipshit was smart enough to come up with a plan like mine?"
Kelly raised an eyebrow,
"Is it wise to incriminate your friends along with you?"
"That bitch? Heh, I could care less. And if I am going down, she is going down with me. The president may think it was all her idea, but it was mine all along, she was following my orders, whether she believes it or not, and once Adam Vir and YOU are dead, then it doesn't matter what we did, because diplomatic relations will dissolve, and it will be all over."
He lifted the gun to her face,
"Goodbye Kelly."
She remained very still as the shadow fell over him from behind,
"May I say one last thing?”
He paused.
"Turn around."
"Very funny!”
He lifted the gun again and pulled the trigger.
There was a sharp crack and thud as metal hit metal. Kelly flinched and held up her hands, but opened her eye after a moment as no pain came.
Admiral Massie lay on the floor face down.
Kelly reached down quickly to grab her gun, looking up to where Sunny was standing in the doorway holding her pearlescent white spear. Behind her floated the starborn Conn and the hybrid.
She took a deep breath,
"Great timing you three.”
Sunny nodded,
"Anytime."
Admiral Kelly turned and lunged for the comms, switching the frequency to the lunar station only to find she couldn't get through,
"Damn it."
She cursed, turning to look at Sunny and the others,
"I was too late, the ships have already been deployed."
She paused and looked down, grabbing the recording device from off the floor tossing it to the hybrid who caught it with some difficulty,
"Run that to one of the media outlets, convince them it is important and leak it as soon as you can. We don't want her to have time to cover her own ass."
Eris nodded and shot off in the other direction.
Sunny knelt down to help her restrain Admiral Massie.
Just then the sound of feet came thundering up the hall and they looked up to see the Chairwoman of the GA and her assistants skid around a corner. Sunny's eyes narrowed as she crouched low leveling her spear.
"Did you catch him?"
The Chairwoman asked,
"No thanks to you."
Sunny snarled, but the chairwoman waved her off,
"I lost contact with my drones, but they should be out helping to protect Admiral Vir. I am sorry I couldn't do more, but it was all I could do not to show my hand too early."
Admiral Kelly stood slowly,
"You knew about this?"
The charwoman shook her head,
"Not this specifically, but I have been trying to find the source of the assassination attempts on Admiral Vir's life. I've had discreet escorts on him for the past few months while I tried getting in contact with my people in the criminal underworld and I called the hit on him with those pirates, knowing who Captain Kell was, hoping that he could get more information out of the pirates that I could."
Sunny stared at her rage flickering across her face,
"You called a hit on him!"
The charwoman did not seem perturbed,
"Those pirates couldn't have... How do the humans say... Hit their way out of a paper bag. I have been attempting to come in contact with the leader of the anti-alliance for the past few months. I have been trying to convince them I am on their side, and that was part of my ruse, as well as knowing Admiral Vir was captain Kell. During my investigation it became clear that someone within the UN was involved though I couldn't have said who."
"And why should we believe you aren't just covering your own ass?”
The chairwoman hissed,
”Do you really think I want to make an enemy out of the strongest species in the galaxy!? Not on your life! I am not stupid. Besides, I owe Admiral Vir my life. I admit I have done some irreparable things in order to keep the alliance going, but those moves were calculated, and Vir was always protected.”
[…]
One of the silver UAV's exploded and Red had to dodge to the side to avoid the flying debris. He cut right and then left keeping as fast as he could possibly go as he cut up through the chunks of metal and locked onto the back of a Thunderhawk. There was a sharp click and then a silent explosion which he rolled out of the way to avoid. He had sent one of his men off to make contact with earths forces for backup.
They were good, but these men and women were made for combat, and despite their best work only four out of twenty of them had been destroyed, and their numbers were dwindling fast. He cut right before one of the Thunderhawk’s, forcing it to turn away from the rocket and cut down in another direction. He could only imagine the fear of those inside the rocket as they watched helplessly at the fight raging on around them.
He spun down and under, cutting off another Thunderhawk coming in the opposite direction.
There was no way they were going to keep up with this for long.
Their only chance was earths forces reacting quickly.
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Intro post by me
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Thanks for reading! As you saw in the title, this is a cross posted story written by starrfallknightrise and I'll just upload some of it here for you guys, if you are interested and want to read ahead, the original story-collection can be found on tumblr or wattpad to read for free. (link above this text under "OC:..." ) It is the Empyrean Iris story collection by starfallknightrise. Also, if you want to know more about the story collection i made an intro post about it, so feel free to check that out to see what other great characters to look forward to! (Link also above this text). I have no affiliations to the author; just thought I’d share some of the great stories you might enjoy a lot!
Obviously, I have Charlie’s permission to post this and for the people already knowing the stories, or starting to read them: If you follow the link and check out the story you will see some differences. I made some small (non-artistic) changes, mainly correcting writing mistakes, pronoun correction and some small additional info here and there of things which were not thought of/forgotten or even were added/changed in later stories (like the “USS->UNSC” prefix of Stabby, Chalar=/->Sunny etc). As well as some "biggemajor" changes in descriptions and info’s for the same stringency/continuity reason. That can be explained by the story collection being, well a story collection at the start with many standalone-stories just starring the same people, but later on it gets more to a stringent storyline with backstories and throwbacks. (For example Adam Vir has some HEAVY scars over his body, following his bones, which were not really talked about up till half the collection, where it says it covers his whole body and you find out via backflash that he had them the whole time and how he got them, they just weren't mentioned before. However, I would think a doctor would at least see these scars before that, especially since he gets analyzed, treated and goes shirtless/in T-shirts in some stories). So TLDR: Writing and some descriptions are slightly changed, with full OK from the author, since he himself did not bother to correct these things before.

Been looking for a light jacket that I can use for the next ten year (if that is possible) and found Beta LT to be quite suitable for my need for a bit of wind, rain protection in the city and on bike, a light shell to travel with. Has anyone tried 7mesh? Is there a similar model in their line up and how does their quality compare to arcteryx?
There seem to be mixed review of arcteryx jacket and coat on this sub. I happened to came through the brand from running t shirt (motus) which I really like for its durability and lightness (running in 30c plus) and their climbing shorts are perfect for city, tropical climate especially the konseal 11 inches and its deep pocket beside the front thigh, allowing easy access to wallet and phone without the need for zip or for things to fall off.

I write a lot about how the Biden-Harris administration is working to restore the principles of the period between 1933 and 1981, when members of both political parties widely shared the belief that the government should regulate business, provide a basic social safety net, promote infrastructure, and protect civil rights. And I write about how that so-called liberal consensus broke down as extremists used the Reconstruction-era image of the American cowboy—who, according to myth, wanted nothing from the government but to be left alone—to stand against what they insisted was creeping socialism that stole tax dollars from hardworking white men in order to give handouts to lazy minorities and women.
But five major stories over the past several days made me realize that I’ve never written about how Trump and his loyalists have distorted the cowboy image until it has become a poisonous caricature of the values its recent defenders have claimed to champion.
The cowboy myth originated during the Reconstruction era as a response to the idea that a government that defended Black rights was “socialist” and that the tax dollars required to pay bureaucrats and army officers would break hardworking white men.
This weekend, on Saturday, May 11, Paul Kiel of ProPublica and Russ Buettner of the New York Times teamed up to deliver a deep investigation into what Trump was talking about when he insisted that he must break tradition and refuse to release his tax returns when he ran for office in 2016 and 2020, citing an audit.
The New York Times had already reported that one of the reasons the Internal Revenue Service was auditing Trump’s taxes was that, beginning in 2010, he began to claim a $72.9 million tax refund because of huge losses from his failing casinos.
Kiel and Buettner followed the convoluted web of Trump’s finances to find another issue with his tax history. They concluded that Trump’s Chicago skyscraper, his last major construction project, was “a vast money loser.” He claimed losses as high as $651 million on it in 2008. But then he appears to have moved ownership of the building in 2010 from one entity to a new one—the authors describe it as “like moving coins from one pocket to another”—and used that move to claim another $168 million in losses, thereby double-dipping.
The experts the authors consulted said that if he loses the audit battle, Trump could owe the IRS more than $100 million. University of Baltimore law professor Walter Schwidetzky, who is an expert on partnership taxation, told the authors: “I think he ripped off the tax system.”
The cowboy myth emphasized dominance over the Indigenous Americans and Mexicans allegedly attacking white settlers from the East. On Friday an impressive piece of reporting from Jude Joffe-Block at NPR untangled the origins of a story pushed by Republicans that Democrats were encouraging asylum seekers to vote illegally for President Joe Biden in 2024, revealing that the story was entirely made up.
The story broke on X, formerly Twitter, on April 15, when the investigative arm of the right-wing Heritage Foundation, which promises to provide “aggressive oversight” of the Biden administration, posted photos of what it claimed were flyers from inside portable toilets at a migrant camp in Matamoros, Mexico, that said in broken Spanish: “Reminder to vote for President Biden when you are in the United States. We need another four years of his term to stay open.” The tweet thread got more than 9 million views and was boosted by Elon Musk, X’s owner.
But the story was fabricated. The flyer used the name of a small organization that helps asylum seekers, along with the name of the woman who runs the organization. She is a U.S. citizen and told Joffe-Block that her organization has “never encouraged people to vote for anyone.” Indeed, it has never come up because everyone knows noncitizens are not eligible to vote. The flyer had outdated phone numbers and addresses, and its Spanish was full of errors. Migrants who are staying at the encampment as they wait for their appointments to enter the U.S. say they have never seen such flyers, and no one has urged them to vote for Biden.
Digging showed that the flyer was “discovered” by the right-wing video site Muckraker, which specializes in “undercover” escapades. The founder of Muckraker, Anthony Rubin, and his brother, Joshua Rubin, had shown up at the organization’s headquarters in Matamoros asking to become volunteers for the organization; they and their conversation were captured on video, and signs point to the conclusion that they planted the flyers.
Nonetheless, Republicans ran with the story. Within 12 hours after the fake flyer appeared on X, Republican representatives Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-GA) and Dan Bishop (R-NC) brought posters of it to Congress, and Republicans made it a centerpiece of their insistence that Congress must pass a new law against noncitizen voting. Rather than being protected by modern-day cowboys, the woman who ran the organization that helps asylum seekers got death threats.
The cowboy image emphasized the masculinity of the independent men it championed, but the testimony of Stephanie Clifford, the adult film actress also known as Stormy Daniels, in Trump’s criminal trial for falsifying business records to cover up his payments to Clifford to keep her story of their sexual encounter secret before the 2016 election, turns Trump’s aggressive dominance into sad weakness. Covering Clifford’s testimony, Maureen Dowd of the New York Times yesterday wrote that “Trump came across as a loser in her account—a narcissist, cheater, sad Hugh Hefner wannabe, trading his satin pajamas for a dress shirt and trousers (and, later, boxers) as soon as Stormy mocked him.”
In the literature of the cowboy myth, the young champion of the underdog is eventually supposed to settle down and take care of his family, who adore him. But the news of the past week has caricatured that shift, too. On Wednesday, May 8, the Republican Party of Florida announced that it had picked Trump’s youngest son, 18-year-old Barron, as one of the state’s at-large delegates to the Republican National Convention, along with Trump’s other sons, Eric and Donald Jr.; Don Jr.’s fiancée, Kimberly Guilfoyle; and Trump’s second daughter, Tiffany, and her husband.
On Friday, May 10, Trump’s current wife and Barron’s mother, former first lady Melania Trump, issued a statement saying: “While Barron is honored to have been chosen as a delegate by the Florida Republican Party, he regretfully declines to participate due to prior commitments.” It is hard not to interpret this extraordinary snub from his own wife and son as a chilly response to the past month of testimony about his extramarital escapades while Barron was an infant.
Finally, there was the eye-popping story broken by Josh Dawsey and Maxine Joselow in the Washington Post on Thursday, revealing that last month, at a private meeting with about two dozen top oil executives at Mar-a-Lago, Trump offered to reverse President Joe Biden’s environmental rules designed to combat climate change and to stop any new ones from being enacted in exchange for a $1 billion donation.
Trump has promised his supporters that he would be an outsider, using his knowledge of business to defend ordinary Americans against those elites who don’t care about them. Now he has been revealed as being willing to sell us out—to sell humanity out—for the bargain basement price of $1 billion (with about 8 billion people in the world, this would make us each worth about 12 and a half cents).
Chief White House ethics lawyer in the George W. Bush administration Richard Painter wrote: “This is called bribery. It’s a felony.” He followed up with “Even a candidate who loses can be prosecuted for bribery. That includes the former guy asking for a billion dollars in campaign cash from oil companies in exchange for rolling back environmental laws.”
The cowboy myth was always a political image, designed to undermine the idea of a government that worked for ordinary Americans. It was powerful after the Civil War but faded into the past in the 1920s, 1930s, and 1940s as Americans realized that their lives depended on government regulation and a basic social safety net. The American cowboy burst back into prominence with the advent of the Marlboro Man in 1954, the year of the Supreme Court’s Brown v. Board of Education decision, and the idea of an individual white man who worked hard, wanted nothing from the government but to be left alone, was a sex symbol, and protected his women became a central myth in the rise of politicians determined to overturn the liberal consensus.
Now it seems the myth has come full circle, with the party led by a man whose wife rejects him and whose lovers ridicule him, who makes up stories about dangerous “others,” cheats on his taxes, solicits bribes, and tries to sell out his followers for cash—the very caricature the mythological cowboy was invented to fight.
—
Notes:
https://www.propublica.org/article/trump-irs-audit-chicago-hotel-taxes
https://www.npr.org/2024/05/10
/1248599505/migrants-vote-biden-conspiracy-theory-social-media
https://www.npr.org/2024/05/10/1250585392/takeaways-migration-biden-flyer-matamoros
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/11/opinion/trump-stormy-daniels-trial.html
https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2024/05/09/trump-oil-industry-campaign-money/
https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/donald-trump/barron-trump-florida-delegate-republican-national-convention-rcna151388
https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/donald-trump/barron-trump-declines-invitation-delegate-republican-convention-rcna151761
Twitter (X):
rwpusa/status/1789632040054165516
https://heathercoxrichardson.substack.com/p/may-12-2024

So I have this guy friend,and EVERYONE seems to think we like each other. Whenever I first mentioned him to my mom, her first response was “ so is this a crush situation?” And our mutual friends make guesses and how high of a chance we have of getting together, which always never seem to go below 80%. and even his friends always scream random shit about us liking each other when I even go near him.
And frankly, I don’t know what to feel.
I genuinely consider him a close friend, and we’ve barely been friends for a week. We’ve known each other longer than that, we had a mutual friend, and we talked occasionally. Whenever I would hang out with that mutual friend, he would usually be with him too. We had a…rocky start you could say. I found out that he had a crush on the love of my life and platonic soulmate, and pretty much threatened to jump him if he even dared talking to her.
But after I concluded, he was no threat to her. I became chill with him, and that led to us becoming friends.We snap back-and-forth every day,he has this hello kitty plush I put in my shirt when I hang out with him. I still on his lap or sleep on him all the time.
And before you say, that’s obviously crush shit, I am VERY weird with like all of my friends.
Like I actually lay on half of my friends, and just nap on them all the time. And even kiss a few of them goodbye.
So this isn’t really weird behavior for me. But even I started, wondering if I like him. The thing is, I rarely get crushes but a lot of the time I get into situations where I think I like a person because I’m expected to like them. So I can’t tell if I like him or if a part of me it’s just saying I do because everybody tells me I do.
And like being with him, feels a lot different than all my other crushes.Im a bi girl and IF I do like him this would be the second guy I’ve ever liked. And the first guy didn’t feel like this, the first guy made me feel awkward and flushed to be around, I couldn’t even look him in the eye, and a part of me wanted to impress him.
But with this guy friend, I feel very comfortable with him. I don’t hesitate to touch him or to full on pounce on him when I see him, I get excited to see him, and actually pout when he has to leave. And I want to hang out with him. But I get super nervous to do a lot of things that insinuate a crush. I don’t even like the idea of mentioning people think I have a crush on him.
It’s a bit similar to my first love.She was a really nice girl who made me feel safe and comfortable, similar to how my guy friend makes me feel comfortable. Except she also scared me a bit, I was always worried to mess things up with her, and felt the need to hide things, and in a way, I also feel the need to hide things from my guy friend, and worried that he would see me differently if I didn’t.
And remember, when I said, he likes one of my friends, that does make me upset to think about, but I can’t tell if it’s because I’m protective over my friend, or sad that he likes someone else.
I feel a little scared to call him a crush, it feels like it’s changing our relationship if I do. And I can’t ask for advice from anybody I know, because that would solidify the idea idea I like him. But it’s hard to ask random people like what I’m trying to do right now, because they don’t know me and don’t know that this is usually normal behavior for me. Cuddling and laying on someone’s lap, is genuinely normal for me and I do it with people I only have platonic feelings with. Somebody help.

We have put together this Weekly reoccurring Clan Recruitment Megathread and there also is the Diablo4Clans subreddit, as well as the official discord of the subreddit where you can meet and look for new & more allies.
Stay awhile and listen to find clans to join in the fight against the Burning Hells and the evils that lurk within Sanctuary...
​
The purpose of this weekly reoccurring thread is:

• for Clans to advertise themselves here to new potential members
• for people to find the right Clan for them to join
• and to also provide a few Harm Reduction Guidelines for new players that can help avoid getting scammed when looking for a new clan

​
Clan Recruitment Thread Rules
If you want to advertise your Clan in this weekly reoccurring thread,

• fill out the form below and submit it as a comment with the required information about your Clan and post it in this thread.
• You are welcome to add your own fluff/flair to the form to make it more personal, but please stick to the list below.
• ONLY ONE COMMENT PER CLAN PER WEEKLY THREAD.
• Comments that do not include this form will be removed.
• Potential clan members are welcome to respond to your top level comment and you’re welcome to answer from their response.

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

Clan Recruitment Form

• Clan Name:
• Clan Description (give us at least two sentences describing your clan):
• Clan Discord (only use the shortened .gg link):
• How members can sign up:
• Why you should join (Give us at least 1 paragraph):

Please note that making Clan Recruitment is only allowed in this weekly reoccurring thread, so that the subreddit and peoples feeds do not get flooded with threads that advertise clans.
However, on the new Diablo4Clans subreddit Clans can be advertised via new threads.

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

Harm Reduction Guidelines
How to spot shady Clans and Practices
This section here is intended as a “Harm Reduction FAQ” with a few guidelines on how to spot shady Clans and Practices to avoid getting scammed.
A List of Shady Practices that one may encounters in dubious Clans

• The offering of a services/items/geaetc. in exchange for real monetary / payment is a major red flag.
• Paying for Level Boosts and other services that promise quick progression in exchange for payment - legitimate clans don’t charge for helping their clan members level up.
• Paying for a specific Legendary Item, especially when asked to pay for Legendries that did not already dropped or that dropped while you where not there – Legendries can only be traded in-game for the first 2 hours after they dropped and only with those players that were in the group when the Legendary dropped.
• Being asked or pressured into sharing your Blizzard Account Password, even when the request seemingly comes from an Official Blizzard Account or Employee. Blizzard Employees will never ask for your password.
• (Being groomed or pressured into) paying for a Higher Status or Position within the group / clan, (e.g. like being Moderator of the Clans discord, Facebook group, Lieutenant of a Clan, etc.) and/or having to pay for keeping that status / position.

​
Scams and Shady Practices to be aware of in General

• Everything that requires sharing of personal information, especially credit card numbers, or social security numbers (even if something is offered in return "for free")
• Advertisements for buying T-Shirts, Mugs, etc related to various franchises (not just Diablo), from ads that may pop up, either in the in-game Chat, discord or even reddit, These are scams designed to get your Credit Card Information. ( link to reddit thread that explains the scam <--)
• Suspicious links and downloads from there, as some downloads may include malware

If something like this occurs, especially if your are being pressured into doing one of these things (even if the person is appearing as a Blizzard Employee or portrays himself to be a Federal Official), it is best to just leave and to not argue, as scammers will likely just continue to pressure or trick you.
​
Furthermore, consider enabling the two-factor authentication via the Battle.net Authenticator, as it also is a good additional protection for your Blizzard Account ( Link to Blizzard's Battle.net Authenticator <--)

Photo's Here!
Itinerary: Fiji Islands
Taveuni 4 nights
Volivoli 4 nights
4 days of scuba diving, other days hiking, exploring, etc.
Honeymoon trip with my wife!
Let me know what you would change, I’d still want to cut this down.
Airport notes:
Obsessed over how to pack small for this trip as there was the 7kg limit. They did not check the backpack weight at LAX, luckily too because I had packed food for the plane and was at 9kg, and the 26+6 became pretty uncomfortable. On the way back it was closer to 7kg, and very comfortable. I was able to wear it all the last day walking around Nadi. They did however check the person’s backpack weight next to us at the bag check-in spot, I guess we were lucky. At the gate they grabbed a couple carry-on suitcases, but didn’t even glance at backpacks. Might have gotten away with a bigger bag but this one worked great.
Made the mistake of packing my neck pillow before security, which meant it touched all the belts and trays on the way in. On the way back I made sure not to pack it until I was at the gate.
Bag:
Osprey Daylite 26+6
Tomtoc X-Pac sling
Clothes:
Might be controversial, but I’m obsessed with these hanging shelves. Takes up slightly more room in my bag but it’s not bad at all. Whenever I’ll be somewhere I know I can hang up in a closet, I’m taking this thing as it keeps me way more organized and it’s just easier to use than a packing cube. Nice little dirty clothes compartment too. This Biaggi branded one I had to bend the metal shelves to make it not as wide. Before modification it’s about 14”x8”, after bending it’s 12”x7”. I’ll sometimes use my 12”x12” one when using my 40L, but got this Biaggi just for the 26+6.
Worn:

• Buff (worn constantly as headband for sweat)
• Synthetic T Shirt
• Underwear
• 7” Hybrid Shorts from Target
• Xero Z-Trails

Packed:

• Comfy Socks (plane only)
• 3 pairs Bombas (didn’t wear)
• 4x Synthetic RBX Underwear
• 32 Degrees leggings (for kayaking, also brought for hiking but was too humid)
• Eddie Bauer Long sleeve synthetic (for kayaking, wore once)
• Patagonia Hat
• Black Synthetic Shorts
• Prana Brion 1.0 Pants (didn’t wear, too humid)
• Prana Shorts (wore these and the Target shorts the most)
• 3x short sleeve button ups, one was synthetic, other two I bought in Fiji
• Old Navy Synthetic T shirt
• 2x Sun Hoodie (didn’t wear, too humid, should have just brought one)
• REI Flash Jacket (perfect for in between scuba dives)
• Frogg Togg Xtreme Lite Rain Jacket (didn’t wear, too humid)

Tech Pouch (Pencil Case):

• Airpods
• 12k Jackery Power bank, old and heavy but still works
• USB Bendy light for nightstand
• USB Fan for plane, nightstand
• Apple Pencil
• Sharpie
• 3ft power strip with 4x outlet, 2 usb-a, 2 usb-c
• Anker 20w usb-c
• Nitecore TIP SE
• Ear plugs in container
• 3ft HDMI and USB-C to HDMI, to connect phone to TV
• US to FIJI outlet adapter
• USB-C Apple Watch Cable
• USB-C to Lightning (with usb-a adapter for powerbank)
• USB-A to Lightning cable
• 8BitDo Controllers for N64 multiplayer

Misc. Stuff:

• Foldable Fan
• Osprey Pack Cover (never used)
• Empty neck pillow to stuff with clothes (this worked but works best with down jacket, however no down jacket needed in Fiji. Made the neck pillow too heavy but nice not to worry about it during the trip)
• 2 1L Vapur Water Bottle
• .7L Vapur Water Bottle (having three of these was great for going out hiking and scuba diving)
• 20 ft paracord clothes line
• Primula Brew Buddy (brought my own pre-ground coffee)
• Cheap Compact Umbrella (perfect for hiking in rain and humidity)
• Waterproof Phone Case
• Peak Design Tote (good for groceries and souvenirs)
• Osprey 12L Dry Bag (for laundry but we had washing machines)
• Outdoor Vitals Pillow (didn’t use but glad to have it just in case for plane)
• Cheap Microfiber Towel (used this constantly)
• Matador Refraction 16L (perfect for day to day)
• Small Peak Design Packing Cube (worked well to pack my clothes for scuba diving and put in refraction backpack)

To Go Toiletries In Mesh Bag from Daiso:

• SPF for body
• SPF for face (not supposed to decant these but I’m obsessed with decanting, covered in tape to help protect it, worked fine)
• SPF Chapstick (my favorite but so expensive)
• Motion Eaze, Ginger chews, Dramamine (I get motion sick, but water was calm)
• Mints for after dives
• Dude Wipes
• Bug Lotion
• Hand Sanitizer Alcohol
• Hair Conditioner (nice for post-dive)
• Moisturizer (nice for post-dive)

Toiletries in Osprey Ultralite Zip Organizer:

• Tongue Scraper
• Dramamine
• First aid (pills, bandaids)
• Sonicare Toothbrush (worth it to bring, pack it with head off)
• Nose hair trimmer thing
• Packable Scissors
• Phillips OneBlade
• Phillips OneBlade USB adapter
  
• Dude Wipes
  
• Ziplock of wet wipes
  
• Little comb
  
• Silicone Shower Scrubber
  
• Metal Tin with q-tips and to protech OneBlade blade and guard
  
• Nail Clippers
  
• Nail File
  

I obsess over decanting these:

• Body wash
• Face wash
• Moisturizer
• Hair Conditioner
• Detergent
• Deoderant
• Aquafor
• Acetone (for cold sores)
• Dish Liquid
• Eye Drops
• Chafe Friction Defence (melted into chapstick tube)
• Nasal Conditioning Spray (great for high altitude but not needed this trip, took anyway)
• 5g Pot Jar of Pomade
• 5g Pot Jar of Tooth Paste (lasted all 8-9 days, twice a day brushing, if you take it little by little. I just dip my toothbrush in)
• Little make-up spatula if needed