Where I live the heat and humidity can be brutal, and this year spring is already cooking. So how chuffed was I when Outlier sent me a ramielust tank to test. For the last couple of weeks I’ve been wearing it into the ground. I wanted to really test it, so I leaned into it a bit more than I generally would. At this point it’s seen eight full days of wear (and a cpl partial), has been washed five times, slept in, worked out in, dressed up (a bit), tugged on by a small child and a small-legged dog, and is still in one piece. I know this form, in this fabric, has been highly anticipated by many (myself included) - so here’s what I’ve got:

• Quick Stats:
  • I’m 5’10” (or so) and I’ve generally considered my “true size” to be L for Outlier, but have been sizing up lately and enjoying it. I took an XL for a loosebreezier fit in Lilac Mist. I likely will stick with XL however I think I could definitely wear L and fit would still be solid.
• Fabric
  
  • Ramie is a natural fiber, it’s old and it’s bast, if you’ve never encountered it before here’s a better description than I’m going to write: https://outlier.nyc/products/ramielustIn-hand
  • In-hand, this batch of ramielust is weighty and smooth, with a dull shine that almost makes it look slightly metallic (ramie-lustrous). The feel of it is like cooled silk. It can be counterintuitive to pull on a heavier (200gsm) fabric to head out into the heat, but in practice the fiber is always pulling heat away from you, while the openness of the fabric welcomes any breeze right through. Along with the weight comes drape that isn’t typical of lighter and stiffer summer fabrics – in motion the sway of the fabric is elegant and special, especially with the cut of the garment (more on that later). The shine of the fabric does become milder following the first wash, but I didn’t notice any significant change after the second or third wash, it’s still got a light gleam to it.
  • To be honest, I’ve been looking forward to this fabric, but I didn’t expect it to feel this nice having only ever tried the very first run of ramielust some time ago – I didn’t intend to wear it four days in a row. But I kept reaching for it in part just because I wanted to feel the fabric again.
• Fit + Form
  
  • The only Outlier tank I’ve tried prior to this was the Push/Pull Tank. Compared to that cut (in the same size), the Ramielust Tank is a much looser format. The neckline falls lower, and the chest/body is cut wider – it’s a much easier, more leisurely feel, and the ramielust weight makes the additional fabric really drip down and around you in the most lovely way.
  • The cut is open and refined. As with the push/pull tank, the straps are nice and broad, which matches nicely the width of the ramielust tank in the body; it’s substantial, loose, and breezy. When I first tried the tank on pre-wash I immediately thought it was too long, bunching around my hips, but after the first wash/dry the length felt perfect; not cropped, but flowing freely around my midsection when I moved. The fabric sort of leans against you a bit, instead of giving you a full on hug. Not prone to static, just luxurious wavy folds. I really hope this cut shows up more in the future.
• Items of Interest
  
  • Color + Transparency
    • The fabric is a bit transparent, but not too much - I have a lot of contrast between my skintone and tattoos, and I wasn’t able to easily see my tattoos through the fabric unless the light was pretty direct, and then only where the fabric was flat and close to my skin. The color is crazy, similar to the other lilacs Outlier has done, but with the added touch of the slightly metallic shine of the fabric. If you’re at all inclined toward this color (in tank or other format), you should go for it.
  • Shrinkage Etc.
    • I washed on delicate and dried on medium heat (despite the care instructions pleading to dry on low heat) for all five wash/dry passes. On first wash there was ~2” of shrinkage in length, and probably 0.5”-1” of shrinkage to width. The width, I think, released out a bit with wear but the cut is roomy enough that it wasn’t especially noticeable either way. The length also stretches back out a touch, mb 0.5" or so, I think it was calibrated with shrinkage in mind, as again for me the fit was better after losing length. The fabric always tightens up a touch after dry and then relaxes out quickly with wear, which has been true of prior ramielust runs. In comparison to the push/pull tank: I measured 24” across the ramielust tank after first wash/dry, and measured 20” across the push/pull tank which has taken the same wash/dry treatment. Length is similar btwn the two, with ramielust tank being about 1” shorter after wash.
  • Hand Feel vs. Prior Runs
    • The only other ramielust I’ve had was from the very first run, and I found it effective at dealing with heat but generally rough and a bit unfortunate in terms of texture. This ramielust is very different. I think it was described as “buttery” on live and that’s apt af. If you tried ramielust before and found it rough, you may be pleasantly surprised by how soft and welcoming this run is.
  • Twist
    • I mean, it exists. It’s not bad, but if you look for it, yea it’s there. If you’ve had ramielust before, it’s pretty much the same thing, either a dealbreaker for you or not. Twist has bothered me in the past but with the looseness and flow of this cut, you really have to be looking for it to notice it.
  • Durability
    • Not really a selling point for this fabric, but I was pleasantly surprised by how little battle damage I could find after multiple days of non-delicate wear. I found the fabric stretched out across the day a bit but with a wash/dry snapped back to regular form. I did find one small snag on the fabric, not sure where it came from (dogs).
  • Pet Hair
    • The secret metric for all Outlier fabrics: To what extent does it hold onto pet hair (or lint or whatever) - pleased to report that pet hair comes off of this fabric with little (relative) effort. Take the shirt off, give it a proper shake and a whip, and most of the fur will fall away.
  • Random Thoughts/Scenarios
    • Wearing under injex overshirts, I noticed that my skin was cooler where it was touching ramie vs. where it was touching injex
    • Wearing directly under a rain shell, same thing, felt much cooler where ramielust was touching me vs. the goretex-ish material (no surprise there)
    • Wearing as part of a semi-formal outfit works, I think, because of the very apparent quality of the fabric - both color and luster help give it an “elevated” look that can be pretty well dressed up, and Lilac Mist is nice against black.
    • Works pretty well as a workout shirt (especially in a small, hot garage with no airflow), handles sweat great, is still soft against the skin even with moisture in the mix; I did drag it against knurling a few times and didn’t find any abrasion damage. Not a replacement for a dedicated exercise shirt and isn’t meant to be, but in a hot and humid environment it’ll do the trick.
    • I did have a tiny hand, at one point, tug abruptly on a handful of the fabric, which caused an area to stretch out and bag slightly; a wash and dry snapped it back to normal
• My Feelings
  
  • In the end, my feelings are that this form is the highest and best use for the ramielust fabric (yet). This tank makes me feel protected and unrestricted out in the heat. It keeps me comfortable, it’s easy. I have to look for reasons not to wear it, and I’m running out of them.
• Pictures
  
  • https://imgur.com/gallery/ramielust-tank-pk02Sv5

Hail Brothers and Sisters!
I just finished a meditation session and I am wondering if you could help me figure out what the vision(s) mean. Note: I am aware that it is up to me to interpret as it is different with every person I am just looking for a external point of view.
The moment I started the temple automatically formed as the gods eagerly awaited me. Before I could ask anything I felt the a flap of wings behind me and the hand of Freyja. I felt the presence of every god and goddess in the room. I asked to see what is to come. As my fate is not my own and I am a mere reader of it. The gods showed a vision of me in a tank in a field looking down the sights and firing soon after the glorious Valkyries came and took me with no time wasted. I then saw myself amongst those in Valhalla feasting at a table. And not the tables of our brethren but the table of the Gods next to Odin himself. I also asked when the cycle of me messing up will stop and they showed a vision of me currently meditating. As I finished my meditation the statues of Odin, Freyja and Thor that I had emplaced at a specific location where moved closer to me. I then looked at myself in the mirror and I saw myself in a different light. I was surrounded by Valkyries with a raven on my shoulder with runic markings and Viking paint on my face. Then I heard a voice say 'Glory to the Aesir, Glory to the drengr of Ragnarök!' before it all faded and I returned to my normal state.
I know the gods are near me at all times as I see ravens everyday each deviating from their path to follow my direction of travel. As well as I had one land on my shoulder and look at me. I extended my arm and it jumped to my arm. Its talons in my arm yet not painful. In the distance I could see Odin looking in my direction and smiling at me.
I have a feeling that this vision is tied to what the gods have taught me in the past. They had mentioned and showed me a unspoken goddess named Ylva Odinsdottir. And in visions where I stood in Valhalla I was in the body of that goddess. As if they were telling me I am that unspoken goddess(for more context look at the other posts I have made).
I have really gotten into Assassin's creed Valhalla recently and despite it not being fully Historically accurate I have a feeling of strong connection to Eivor. As if I am watching myself. Some of the visions I am shown correlate a lot to what I see in the game. I believe the gods are trying to show me the truth of who I am not only in celestial realms but here on Midgard and what purpose I serve down here. Also another thing that correlates to the game is how the gods talk to me during the day. Time freezes and I get taken to a darken place with all that are around with Odin, and Freyja walking around talking to me about things. I notice that I am no longer in my Midgard form but rather in celestial form during these talks. Once they have said what they needed to time would restart and continue as if nothing happened during that time.
I appreciate any who answer and give their view on what I shared. I will take any opinions on what I said into consideration in the meaning of the vision and what the gods have shown.
Glory to the Gods! Glory to Valhalla! Glory to Midgard!

It is a man, old and scraggy. He wears a jacket that lays over the red plaid button shirt and blue jeans. He wears an old baseball cap and a pair of glasses. He yelled something to Dad, holding his hands up like he was pleading, although we couldn’t hear it over the truck engine. They talked, but we couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“Hey, what are they saying”, I asked, while petting Matt’s hair, calming him. The old man then put his hands down and came close to Dad in a cautious way. They seem to start having some kind of conversation.
“I don’t really know, hopefully, something good”, Mom answered. They talked for a little while, with daylight beginning to disappear, giving us a sense of dread, and making me more worried about what weird creature was going to show up. Eventually, the old man turned and pointed toward what I think is the northeast. They then shook hands and walked back to their respective vehicles. “What’s going on”, Mom asked as Dad got into the truck.
“Well, our new friend here invited us to dinner at his farm”, Dad replied.
“Does he have supplies?”
“Well, he says has supplies for us to make the journey.”
“Should we even trust him? We just met h-”
“Relax, he’s just an old man, living alone at his farm, feeding his cows. What could go wrong”, Dad countered. The old man then entered the truck that was running and drove slowly, expecting us to follow him.
“Alrighty then, but we have to be cautious”, Mom said, with her suspicions of the old man. We then followed the old truck along the dark, frozen road. It just feels like something is going to show up along the road, but nothing happened. Matt did eventually stop crying, but he is still upset about the Joe escape thing.
“Where are we going”, Matt lamented, with the prior series of events in mind.
“I guess somebody is offering us dinner”, I answered.
“Why can’t we just go home?”
“It’s only going to be a stop, like a hotel. After that, we go to our new home, I guess”, I said, taking another look at Matt and cradling to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay.” I stared out into the darkness. I looked to the sky from the window and I faintly saw something in the clear, dark sky, lit up by the waning moon. They were brilliant, green auroras that defy the bright moon, dancing across the sky like ribbons in the wind. The truck eventually took a right-hand turn into another road, with us following suit. I can see a bright, orange light emerging from a patch of tree. When we passed by, it seemed it was a house, at a farm, burning in a massive flame.
“I guess those people aren’t so, uh, lucky”, Dad said, taking a quick look at it before looking at the road. Passing by, we went on and continued to follow the old man’s truck. We passed onto another intersection until he turned into a driveway to what I believe to be his farm. Going into the driveway, I can see an old house, along with a dilapidated farm further away, barely visible by the headlights. The old man parked by the house, where there were a few other trucks there. We parked alongside the truck and we got out into the cold, near-silent night.
“Welcome to sanctuary, where all are welcome”, the old man bellowed. This is the first time I’ve heard his voice. Matt was the last to get out of the truck, slowly and clumsily climbing out of the truck.
“What’s your name”, my Mom politely asked the old man.
“Oh, I guess your husband didn’t tell ya. My name is Steven, but you can call me Steve”, the old man said, with some crackling in his voice. “I am very proud to host a dinner for you and your family”, he continued. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Oh, my name is Janice”, Mom replied, quite pleased at his politeness.
“Hello, Janice, and what are their names”, Steven asked, pointing to me and Matt.
“That’s my daughter Kate and my son Matt”, Dad said to Mom.
“Oh, what wonderful names for a couple of beautiful children you have”, Steve grinned. “Come, it is dangerous out here.” We followed him to the house, which looked like it had seen better days. He entered through the double-set door, the first a solid door and a screen door behind. Entering the house, it smelled like what you’d expect, old man. Looking onto the floor is made of glossy wood and walls with cracks, likely caused by the earthquake. It is dark in there, lit by candlelight from many candles, yet it’s fairly warm here. I don’t know why we went into the house, but Dad was right, Steve is just a lonely, old man. Matter of fact, there seems to be nothing wrong here, other than the cracks in the walls. “Sorry, the power went out. Had to resort to the candles. I knew my wife would come in handy”, Steve explained as he took his coat off. “Oh, supper will be ready right away. Had to use the fireplace to cook. Also, can you take your boots off?” We took our boots and set them aside. We went into what seemed to be a living room, with dusty old-style furniture.
“So, where do we sit”, Mom asked.
“Oh, well, follow me”, Steve commanded, leading us to the dining room, with a long, wooden table and six wooden chairs, along with their corresponding old-fashioned plates, glasses and cutlery, lit up in the candlelight. We noticed that everything on the table was covered in a thin veil of dust. “My apologies, the recent shocks dropped a bit of dust on the table”, he explained as he noticed us looking at the plates and moved into another room nearby. “Take your seats if you like.” We all settled onto the chairs, and blew off our plates of the dust settled there.
“When will we eat”, Matt impatiently said.
“Once Steve comes out with the food”, Mom answered. Matt sat there with a tired look on his face. Dad seemed to be in a better mood than before and it looked like he wanted to start a conversation.
“Hey, should we talk about something”, Dad asked. I then see Steve with a bowl and a silver plate.
“Here we go, may not be much, but at least it’ll fulfil the soul”, Steve said, smiling when he served us mashed potatoes and meatloaf. “So, shall we pray?” That came unexpectedly, as we are not too religious, but we were in his house and gave us shelter and food.
“Sure, we can do that”, Mom said and we all bowed our heads and put our hands together. Steve cleared his throat
“Thank you, Lord, for this good food to feed the soul in these hard times. I shall pray, in the name of the Lord and Jesus Christ, that these hard times shall be over, so we can get on with our lives. Amen.” We raised our heads and grabbed whatever food there was onto our plates. “Oh, there’s no gravy, so we have to deal with bare potaters and meatloaf.”
“Oh, not to worry. Thank you for the food”, Dad thanked Steve. We began to eat the food once we got it sorted.
“So, what brings you here”, Steve asked.
“Well, there is an evacuation order in effect for this area, so we had to go to Regina”, Dad explained, with Steve taking in every word. “So, we came from Strasbourg, we tried going south towards Regina, but we hit an obstacle in the way and we had to take another route, leading us here.”
“And we encountered a few odd things along the way”, Mom added.
“Huh, interesting. What do you guys think is going on”, Steve inquired.
“By the things we saw, we have no idea. Dinosaurs, devil dogs, hell pigs, the whole deal. I shouldn’t forget the earthquake. They told us a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake”, Dad clarified to Steve.
“Hmm… is that so”, Steve wondered. “Wonder what I think is happening? The Rapture is happening. Do you know how the Bible tells us of the end times? Good people sent to be with God and his kingdom, the rest here to suffer the Hell unleashed by Satan.” By this point, he was beginning to rant, but we couldn't stop it as we all began to feel tired and powerless. “So, the Devil will send his demons in the form of these illusions so that they can torment the sinners. It is happening, it is-” Steve manically continued as I drew towards blackness and his voice becoming less coherent. My vision is now all black.
I saw those same lights, but more rapidly than before. I then emerged onto the same clear sky, but something felt different. I can smell something in the air. I can smell what seems to be chemicals in the air. Looking down, I was terrified. Dark, grey rock in the shape of ropes and folds, similar to those I saw of lava flows on a volcano in pictures. This went on as far as the eye could see. I can see no tree this time, just the cooled lava everywhere. I then walked, feeling every bump and crag. I thought I walked forever until I heard a rumbling sound and woke up.
I am in total darkness. It is cold and it smells like cow manure. I tried to move my hand, but it seemed to be bonded behind my back by a rope. I tried to move my feet, but they were also bound by rope to the legs I tried to speak, only to realise my mouth was agape by a cloth in my mouth. I heard shuffling nearby but I could not see. It was then shone in light when Steve entered the door, holding a candle, revealing all of us in the same situation. I then can see what we are in. We are in that same wooden dilapidated barn we saw earlier and seems to be more damaged than the house, wood creaking can be heard.
“These sedatives are more effective than I thought. Maybe I should use them more often”, Steve smoothly explained, like he’s some kind of agent and began pacing. “Wonder why you are here? Well, I wondered the same thing to myself, why didn’t God take me to his heaven? When I first heard of the government telling us of those evacuation plans, I thought it was that, a leaking pipe. I began to notice things I couldn’t believe myself, at least at first. Earthquakes, weird creatures showing up, people disappearing, the whole spiel. I connected the dots. The Rapture is happening, for sure, but why me? Why was I the one left here on this Earth”, Steve calmly ranted, pacing around the barn, but it seemed to sound crazier and angrier the more he paced. “I thought I had lost my way. I’ve been unfaithful to God and his son. But, I realised that God always has a plan and he left me on this Earth to serve a purpose. I wondered what my purpose was until I had a moment.” He then stopped in place and calmed down. He turned to look at Mom with accusing yet crazed eyes.
“I’m supposed to keep the sinners here in line, to earn a place in God’s kingdom, or suffer in Hell. I know you are a sweet woman, Janice, but your treachery with Satan is over and I am going to do what’s right.” Mom then looked at all of us, with assuring eyes like that of an innocent yet caring mother we all know knew. I began crying and trying to speak through the cloth, but I was helpless to watch by. “Forgive me, Father, for what I am going to do.” He then pulled a knife from his pocket and plunged it into Mom’s neck with no mercy. I looked away once he did that, trembling, with tears pouring out and my vision glazed and I fell limp. I could see my brother tearing up, but he did not look away. I can hear Dad behind me, with his screams of agony and anger covered by the cloth. It felt like I was in slow motion, taking in every moment.
I then heard the chair, screeching as Steve dragged the chair containing Mom’s lifeless body towards the door, leaving behind a trail of blood. I couldn’t bear to see my mother like this. I shut my eyes very hard and hoped it would go away. The door then shut, leaving us alone with a candle, fearing what would come next. I stared at the candle, seeing it dance in the flames like a woman dancing in the darkness. Is this how it’ll end, I thought. End up dying to this sick man? My Mom was killed in front of me. I sobbed with that thought, then I began to think about the inevitable death of me. I hope there’s something after I die. Maybe I’ll see Mom again.
It was silent for a while, nearly no sound other than our moans. Dad seems to be fidgeting at the back of his chair, rocking it slowly. Looking past him, I shuddered at the glistening pool of blood, where Mom was last alive, could be my fate. I then see Dad release his arms from the back of the chair and remove the cloth from his mouth. He silently stood up and bent down to untie his legs from the chair legs. He then went to me and removed my cloth.
“H-h-how did you do that”, I silently wept, fearing that Steve would show up at the door and kill us all.
“My binding is loose. The old man probably took a liking to me”, Dad whispered. “I should remove your binds.” He untied them, releasing me, doing the same for Matt. “Now, we need to be quiet.” We then walked, quietly, along the painfully creaking wood in the near dark, following the blood trail, glistening in the candlelight. We cringed and dreaded each sound we made and watched the door in case it began to creak open. A few silent steps later, we made it to the door and we slowly opened it so as not to make any noise. What was revealed to us is nothing new, other than the blood trail continuing in the snow directing towards the back of the barn. “Okay, Kate, Matt, you guys run to the truck.”
“What about you”, I sobbed.
“Don’t worry about me”, Dad responded, giving me his keys and forcing them into my hand. “If I’m not back in a few minutes, leave. Don’t look back, take care of your brother, okay? I love you, no matter what happens.” He then kissed me on the head and ran to follow the blood trail. We quickly walked towards the black truck, stranded there for maybe hours. Getting closer, freedom is getting closer. When we got to a fair distance to the truck, I heard footsteps behind me and, the next thing I knew, I was knocked over to the ground into the hard snow on my face. A hand turned me over to give me a glimpse of a crazed Steve, his eyes wilder than before.
“Oh, yes, trying to escape”, he bragged. I looked at him, frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights and he caressed my face with his bloodied blade. “You do have a pretty face, but I’m afraid you are just one of Satan's creations, made to pull me to lust.” He then raised his knife in the air when a familiar side emerged, out of the blue.
Joe came and bit him in the arm that was holding the knife. Steve screamed in agony the moment he realised what happened. He shook Joe off and stood up to stand his ground. I stood up as Joe hissed and walked around the crazed being he wounded, not in fear but in aggressiveness. “Is this one of your pets, demon”, Steve screamed as Joe came in for another attack, but Steve countered that with a slash to the snout. Joe then ran away, whining, into the darkness. This sequence of events gave me the chance to enter the truck on the driver’s side. I had some trouble starting it, besides this is my first time driving a truck.
Steve menacelily walked towards the when Dad came barreling and tackled him to the ground. Dad was on top when he went limp. I finally put the keys in the engine turned it on and backed out, with memory serving me the instructions on such a vehicle. Steve pushed Dad’s body and stood up, but by that time, we left the farm.
“Turn back, we have to get Dad”, Matt cried, but I was very emotional, accepting what happened. I felt that, without my parents, I feel… useless.
“Dad’s dead”, I screamed at Matt and he began gagging uncontrollably in tears. I began to feel sorry for him. “Sorry, I, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay”, Matt sniffled. “I guess Mom and Dad are dead anyways.” It was silence for a few more minutes, tears welling in our eyes.
“Hey, our parents are in a better place”, I said, trying to make the situation positive.
“But we are stuck here, without them? Don’t we deserve to go to a better place?”
“Don’t say that”, I huffed and I paused for a bit. “I know we are in the, uh, right place now. Let me tell you something, once we get to Regina, I will take care of you, no matter what life throws at us.”
“What about Joe”, Matt asked.
“He’ll be fine. He probably found his girlfriend already.”
“Hey, don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“I, uh, I don’t have one. That I know of”, I spoke, bringing me back to Sam, remembering that she’s the only friend that I ever knew, and I left her. Without her, I felt alone, no one would ever relate. I began to tear up. “I don’t have any friends. I am alone,” I sobbed.
“What do you mean? I’m your brother!” I looked at Matt, and smiled, happy that he acknowledged that we were in this together.
“Thank you”, I thanked him. I slowly stopped on the road, just to hug Matt hard, crying my eyes out. We then heard what sounded like an elephant in front of us. We looked up to see a walking snow-covered brown fur wall with four pillar-like legs in front of us. Its curved tusks gleaned in the light and the eyes reflected in the light. The furry trunk waved around like a searching snake from a tree. We both knew what it was.
“Hey, look at that, a woolly mammoth”, Matt said, excitement running through him. At this point, we weren’t surprised.
“Yep, that is a woolly mammoth”, I added. The mammoth turned to us on the road, seemingly confused about where it was. It looked at our truck and seemed to growl, like an elephant. We are starting to realise this thing is becoming aggressive.
“Uh, should we move”, Matt asked. I remembered hearing something about standing your ground in case of an encounter with an elephant. I hoped it would work for a bigger, furrier version of one.
“No, we have to stand our ground.”
“But, it’ll attack u-”
“Trust me!” I then honked my horn and it backed up. It then rushed, then stopped, a mock charge. Eventually, it moved out of the road, disappearing into the darkness. We sighed in relief.
“That was close”, Matt sighed. I then continued to drive in the night, headlights leading the way. The road is bumpy, as noticed by every ditch and peak we hit, but surprisingly, Matt was fast asleep. I began to get comfortable driving and used to the road by that point. It was silent for a while until we hit a smaller intersection. That is when the truck shut down, completely and stopped. I tried the gas many times but with no effect. There is no light, nothing. It is near-darkness here, shone only by the moonlight.
“Shit”, I yelled, desperate to turn the truck on without much success. Matt woke up, confused.
“What happened”, he yawned.
“The truck turned itself off. I can’t get it back on”, I fretted and at that moment, Matt was just as panicked as I am.
“Why?”
“I-I don’t know. One moment, we were driving, another it just-”, I quavered, when I heard something rustle in the distance. We stood still, hoping whatever it was didn’t find us. I looked around, hoping to see something in the moonlight. I then see a long, walking animal. It looked like some sort of alligator at first, except for a dinosaur-like head. Once I strained my eyes to the darkness, my fear levels rose as I could see it walk on its hind limbs, with its forelimbs dangling nearly touching the ground.
It was wandering around on the road when I heard a near-crocodilian growl at Matt’s side of the truck. Another of those creatures appeared, seemingly looking into the window like a hungry bear, giving us a chance to see its scaly head. Its exposed alligator teeth gleaned in the light like knives, but more terrifying was the eye. Its serpentine pupil shone brilliantly in the light like eyes in the dark. It then ducked down, gave a hiss, and moved towards the other one. A few more showed up and formed a group.
“What should we do”, Matt asked. “Should we stay?” I looked around, hoping for another way to escape them without them noticing. I further strained my eyes and mentally mapped out the area. There is a cemetery on my right-hand side, a grain bin storage yard on my left and a series of trailers on the other side of the highway, which is ahead of us, from the storage area. There, I see a series of white, storage buildings, something we can go to and wait it out inside.
“Okay, so slowly open the door”, I instructed Matt. The click of the doors opening cringed us. We looked at the group, but there was no response from them. We then, as slowly as we could, opened the door and stepped out. Still no response. Matt then quietly ran to the other side, towards me. “Okay, we are going into the storage yard and go to the other entrance”, I said, pointing to the other right-hand corner. I wanted to get as far away from these things as possible before making a safe crossing. “Then, we cross the highway on the other side, run into the buildings and stay there for the night. Are you ready?”
“I guess”, he whispered, looking at me in fearful doubt.
“We are going to do this”, I whispered back. We then silently ran over, having to rely on our night-adapted eyes, to the corner, walking past the bins. We made it and nothing behind us so far. “We’re good so far.” We then crossed the road and noticed nothing. We noticed a tanker truck, leaking some sort of fluid across the road. I easily recognized it as fuel, based on its distinctive, sickly smell. I wouldn’t be worried about it if it weren’t for a collapsed light pole that is somehow still flickering with electricity near the area where the fuel would be flowing. We quickly avoided the fluid when I froze to see the group of the walking alligators, running towards us. “Run!” Matt tried to run, but one of those things appeared and clamped its jaws at the back of his neck. He yelped in pain and it took him down to the ground. “Matt”, I yelled, helplessly watching as the creature tore into him.
Matt reached out his arm before the others came to him, then a flash of fire came. At this point, I knew what happened, but I couldn’t even think before it exploded. It blew me towards the building, far away. I was knocked out for a few seconds before I regained consciousness, groaning in pain on the ice. I noticed something especially painful just below my chest. I reached towards the area with my hand. I pressed on it, more painful than ever and raised my hand, only to see blood, brightened by the fire. I realised I was wounded, maybe by shrapnel made by the explosion.
I looked toward where the truck was and all I saw was a blaze. Those things weren’t there, at least. I also noticed something else, too, there’s no Matt. I tried to look around for something, some sort of sign of my brother within the fire, but I saw none. I then wept, realising I had failed. I have failed to keep him safe. I have failed to give him a better life. I failed him as a sister. I could’ve done better. The thoughts poured in as tears glazed my eyes. At that moment, I failed to look around me.
I noticed a dark thing beside the blaze. I thought it was Matt, preparing to greet him back, even though I knew he couldn’t survive the explosion. The image became clearer and clearer as I noticed it was one of the walking crocs that, glazed by the fire, was coming towards me.
“Just kill me”, I screamed, preparing to painfully die to meet my maker. The creature was about to attack me when something large, silent as the wind, came charging and clamped down its massive jaws, filled with conical teeth on the hapless creature and raised it. The crocodile struggled before going limp with a crunch within its strong jaws. The big, dark and scaly monster that it is towered over me and is as long as a bus, possibly longer. Its large legs are a contradiction to its small arms that hide beneath its scarred, bulky body.
It turned to look at me with an oddly bird-like expression, revealing in the firelight numerous scars from battles I could never know and looked at me with its beady bird-like eyes, breathing out wisps from its nostrils like a dragon in the cool air. I recognized it as a creature I know too well, a T. Rex. I breathed heavily and sickly, looking at the thing, nearly expecting me to drop the body and go after me. Instead, it simply walked away, carrying its bloody prize with it, and steadily retreated into the darkness.
I then lay down in agonizing exhaustion on my back, thinking of the next step of action like I'm on a suicide mission I would never come back from. I looked in the direction of the graveyard and had one thought. I guess I am dying. a graveyard will do. I struggled to stand up, noticing my blood-soaked clothes and felt a broken left leg. I grasped my wound, limping step by step and enduring the sharp pain while shaking in the cold. Every step I took, I remembered all the memories, good or bad, that I had with my parents. My brother. My friends. My family. I eventually reached the cemetery and slouched at a tree.
“Guess I’m joining you, guys”, I said, speaking to the snow-covered gravestones, only to hear something. A familiar sound of chirping emerged and, lit by the blaze, it was a sight I can hope for. “Joe, what are you doing here”, I depressingly cheered as Joe went to me and curled up in my lap as if he were a cat. I noticed the new-found scar he had on his little snout, but I paid no mind as I petted him. “I guess you came back. Thank you so much for what you did”, I thanked him, not expecting such a loyal creature would be with me, comforting me, to the end, like what my mother used to do when I was a newborn. I heard another noise, this time a deep rumble.
I thought it was another earthquake coming, but it got louder the closer it got to me, becoming more animalistic only felt small vibrations I barely felt. Joe stayed put, oddly enough, as T. Rex, different from the first one, came. It walked towards us until it stopped short of us. It began to produce a low-pitched, bird-like purring, attracting Joe. I realised something, that this T. Rex is Joe’s parent. He joined the rest like him, whom they showed up and all chirped around.
The grown Rex then brought its snout closer to me, not to kill me, but to look at me. It did not reveal its teeth and was still purring. I put my hand out and its nose came close to it. It rubbed it against my hand and started to pet its cold, scaly skin as it breathed through its nose and put it on my chest. I rested my head on it before it pulled away. It gave out a hiss, but I knew it wasn’t that of a threat, but more of a thank you for bringing its small, sometimes immature, child home.
That gave me relief, as it felt like I at least did something for once. They walked away, along with Joe, towards the darkness amongst the gravestones in the cemetery. I glimpsed one last desperate look at Joe before walking beside his parent. I looked up at the sky and I could see all the stars, twinkling, and the dancing green auroras. I began to feel limp and felt the cold embrace of death coming over me, tears pouring out of my eyes. The sky then grew brighter and brighter, the stars faded into the light and I could see my family welcoming me to a new home. It then slowly went black, darker than a cave.
You would think this is the end of me. It wasn’t, or else I wouldn’t be writing this right now. I eventually woke up in a hospital in Regina. I was told I was rescued by a team that transported me while I was in a coma. The doctors said I was very lucky to be alive, as the shrapnel narrowly avoided my vital organs. After that, I was adopted into a new family, but I was only with them for a couple of years before finding a new job and moving out.
As for Sam, I don’t know what happened to her. I would like to think she is safe, somewhere else. As for my family, I think of them all the time. I was in a depressive period right after that. Eventually, over the years, I accepted that they were gone and went to a better place. For Joe, I would like to think he is all grown up, like his parents, and becoming the king of the jungle. I hope we meet again.
As for the evacuated area, it wasn’t some pipeline rupture that caused an evaluation, but an anomaly, with the exact reason not known. There are excuses for the claims of weird stuff going on in there, from disease to chemicals, to eventually a previously unknown geological event, but I saw through it all.
You may ask how, it's because I've been there. Take it or leave it, this is the story I have. As the decade came by, cover-ups were made to hide it, even walls were put around it. Since the incident, the exclusion zone grew from a mere 80 kilometers in diameter to 460 kilometers in diameter, emptying entire cities of the likes of Regina and Saskatoon. I had to move to North Battleford, by the recommendation from the same government covering it up, making me think that time will tell before the floodgates of truth open.
The anomaly didn’t have a name initially, however, over the years, everyone agreed on one name in particular: The Saskatchewan Anomaly.

I (19F) met a cute guy (19M) on hinge while I was at school in X city. He lives in X city, but I don’t, so I have to go back home (2 hours from x city) for 3.5 months for the summer.
I wanted to test the waters and put myself out there, but this was in March, and I knew I’d have to go home in April. I knew I didn’t want to be in a long distance relationship, and I wasn’t expecting to be successful on hinge, so I didn’t mind talking to guys that I knew I couldn’t date. I figured it would be nice to talk to some new people, and then I could have a better understanding of the dating pool when I returned to school in August.
I ended up meeting Max, and him and I hit it off. We love the same music and realized we got tickets to the same concert in June. He’s sweet and funny, so I thought it would be cool to meet him before I went home for the summer. Since I didn’t want to do long distance, I figured we could at least be friends. We had a great time and even kissed, but this happened the day before I was supposed to go home for the summer.
He told me he was really into me and that he’d dream about me - that he couldn’t wait to go to the concert with me and see me in the fall. After less than a week, maybe 4 or 5 days, he stopped talking to me as regularly, and became pretty short. A few days later he stopped talking to me. I tried to spark conversation by texting a silly question about my cat, but he didn’t read it or respond, all while he was snapping me blank pics. I told him that I didn’t think talking over the summer would work for me because of his “communication style,” which was my way of trying to hint that he needs to put in some effort. Tl;dr of what he said is “ok, can we still be friends? I wanna hang more this fall. I haven’t been putting in effort, long distance isn’t for me.”
Then I told him that him ignoring me, even if it was a silly text, made me feel unwanted, in both romantic and friendship ways. I need my friends and love interests to show me that they care. He thanked me for sharing and didn’t apologize, then he proceeded to finally read that message (the silly question) and then never respond to it.
I messaged him one last time and he took 5 days to respond. It’s been 2.5 weeks since I came home and homie already forgot about me I guess.
I unadded him on Snapchat and unmatched him on hinge. He still has my number, but I doubt I’ll hear from him. I wonder if I’ll see him at the concert or not, and I wonder if he’ll message me. I’m disappointed because he seemed like an amazing boyfriend and/or friendship candidate, but I know that I deserve better than that and I’ve only known the guy for like a month and a half. I also wonder if he’ll reach out in the fall, it all feels so strange because he seemed so into me. #infatuationisreal
Here is a TLDR provided by chatgpt <3:
I (19F) met a guy named Max (19M) on Hinge while I was at school in X city, though I live two hours away and had to return home for the summer. Despite not wanting a long-distance relationship, I hit it off with Max, sharing similar interests and even planned to attend the same concert in June. After meeting and kissing just before I left, Max expressed his strong feelings for me. However, his communication became inconsistent shortly after, and he eventually stopped responding despite sending me Snapchats. I addressed my concerns about his lack of effort, but he didn't apologize or change his behavior. I decided to unadd him on Snapchat and unmatch him on Hinge. While I'm disappointed because he seemed promising, I recognize I deserve better and am unsure if I'll hear from him or see him at the concert.

So in Man of Medan their is a passing comment from Conrad that one of the coffins in the ship contains a vamperic creature (probably the same as the ones in House of Ashes). both the Manchurian Gold and the Vampires saliva are said to cause hallutionations. The Manchurian Gold may be a weapon developed from the the saliva of the Vampires. the body of that Vampire was lost at sea in 1947 so the US Government was happy to get back their research in 2003 at the end of House of Ahes. You can also see Eric and Rachel's car in Little Hope
In Man of Medan, Julia brings the book Shroud of Innocence with her, which is about the witch trials. The book reappears in the game itself, where it can be found by Anthony in his house. Additionally, Amy uses this expression to warn about the devil disguising as Mary before being executed. Conrad's tank top worn from Intrusion onward reads "Salem, 1692, Massachusetts." One of the soldiers who died on the SS Ourang Medan, Arthur Miller, shares his name with the author of The Crucible, a play about the Salem witch trials. If you have anything to add to it or something I missed that would be great and spread this around And thank you for reading my rant

So. Recently posted about my EMU visit, how anxious I was that I'd get smacked with a hysteria diagnosis. I had a lot of stuff happen. Most interestingly, in my second sleep deprivation day (basically self-administered, might I add), I had some pretty intense episodes. One of them I fell into some kind of microsleep and emerged extremely sexually aroused, which I was able to identify as the same feeling as my sexsomnia which baffled a sleep doctor. Another one, during sleep dep, I felt this profound and abnormal sense of mental clarity, got excited, felt aggressive, almost like I took amphetamines, faintly hypomanic, and had an extremely intense visual aura with my migraine symptoms an hour or two afterwards, along with a host of my typical seizure symptoms and impairment, though without headache. My final one, after being up for 32 hours, I slept for about two and woke up still dreaming, with extremely impaired awareness, confused as hell, feeling like I was in danger, not able to make sense of what was happening, didn't know where I was, and took about ten or fifteen minutes to return to awareness, typical of what I suspect to be nocturnal seizures I have. Despite getting all of these, by the second or third day they had already told me this was PNES, they weren't catching any epileptiform discharges. I sort of figured this would happen. Whatever.
This part may be ever so slightly out of order, because I didn't record it. Not a mistake I'm ever going to make again. I'm going off my memory, and the memory of a family member who was there and agrees this is what happened.
Today, I'm getting discharged. A doctor I'd never seen comes in. Don't remember her name. She tells me that because there was no epileptiform activity it's PNES and that I need to see a therapist for treatment. I start to have a conversation with her, saying that feels a little "circular" because my three mental health providers told me to pursue neurological care, and that I'd been receiving mental healthcare for twenty years with no improvement. I'm working towards having a conversation with her about how some epilepsy, like TLE and FLE, may not actually present on an EEG. Before I get there, she asks me what symptoms I have that make me think it's epilepsy. Give her a brief rundown of my history, which she didn't know at all despite the fact that I gave some decent history the day I was admitted. Talk about sleep issues I had, all these psychiatric diagnoses I got which didn't do anything, how I couldn't function as a kid and my life fell apart. I mention, among my symptoms that make me think I specifically have TLE, dissociation is one of the most significant ones. I think among this she asked what my triggers are, and as I mention THC is one, she laughs and interrupts me loudly saying "well that should be easy to avoid!" and I try to say alcohol is also a trigger, but I'm pretty sure she spoke over me. She says that the dissociation is a sign of the mental health issues that would be causing my seizures. I say the dissociation precedes the events which caused my mental health issues and begin to describe childhood experiences that make me think it's epilepsy. She seems a bit blindsided by this. She moves on to say it actually isn't PNES but instead it's that I'm hypersensitive to minute changes in my body that other people wouldn't be aware of. This is something I agree with, I mention that I'm able to zero in on really fine stuff and I've spent the last couple years not taking anything for granted and noting all the strange sensory experiences I get. She suggests biofeedback therapy, I tell her I have a long history of neurofeedback therapy and it didn't really help much. That my neurofeedback therapist told me my brain behaved in weird ways, looked strange on EEG, and suggested I see a neurologist about it. She seems to be getting frustrated at this point. I ask if I'm being diagnosed with PNES or not, and she says no I'm not. She says that she's not telling me it's all in my head, or that it's psychological, but that it's sensory things I'm just noticing too strongly. I believe at this point, my dad chimes in and says that I was diagnosed with autism as a child, that I had sensory issues which overwhelmed me. Which, might I add, pissed me off. The doctor seems relieved, leans into that and says that's what would cause me to be oversensitive to sensations. I mention some of my lifelong sensory issues, largely tingles that climb up my spine and make my shoulder jerk, or cold chills that wrap around my head. I mention that I've grown to be very tolerant of my sensory issues, and that the symptoms that concern me are my episodes of memory loss, emerging from sleep in bizarre altered states of consciousness, motor symptoms, and primarily the cognitive issues I have. I emphasize how I'm unable to drive. She then says it's my sleep. She says it's a sleep disorder that's causing all of this and that I need to get a sleep study. When going over my history I emphasized that I had sleep issues as a kid, especially with emerging from sleep and with daytime sleepiness (one of the things that makes me suspect TLE!) and have already had multiple sleep studies which showed nothing, but that I have another one scheduled. She seemed to grab onto that, saying yeah that's definitely what it is, make sure to get to that, and quickly changed subjects and asked me about 10,000IU doses of vitamin D I'd been taking, asking if that was from my PCP. Now. I'm seeing an endocrinologist to treat hypogonadotropic hypogonadism which I have had probably forever, none of my T tests were within range for my age going back to my early 20s and I had symptoms since I was a teenager, and it's just gotten worse in tandem with my suspect epilepsy. I have read several papers which say hypogonadotropic hypogonadism is a condition which presents with TLE in a fashion that is clinically significant, drawing links. I believe some say it's an outright symptom. I say to her "That's from my endocrinologist, actually, and that's one of the things that I'd like to mention which made me think this was TLE--." I am abruptly interrupted. Through an obviously frustrated smile, toothy and saccharine, this doctor interjects to emphatically say "Which it isn't! haha It's not epilepsy!" and continues to say she's going to write this up and send it to my doctor. I sort of checked out at that point, frankly. I don't remember it very well, but she left the room shortly after. So, she didn't read any of my history, didn't read any of my notes I gestured to, didn't give me an opportunity to discuss things I have concerns over, and eventually got frustrated enough to simply interrupt me altogether in order to put her foot down. Tells me to move forward by attending an upcoming sleep study. Whole thing very clearly felt like the doc trying to reverse-engineer some bullshit excuse to justify the conclusion that I just have hysteria, more or less, regardless of what the actual truth of the matter is.
A little while later, I get my discharge packet. One of the very helpful nurses shows me the "patient communication" section in the packet and says this is what she said to my doctor. I find this interesting, but I'm too pissed off to dive right into it. Eventually, after spending a while bitching to my dad about how weird this is once we're alone, I take a look at it. She wrote: "Some of your spells are consistent with psychogenic non-epileptic events. The recommended treatment is therapy focused on identifying and coping with psychological stressors. Please follow up with psychology as an outpatient. Other spells are more likely due to hypervigilance of normal physiologic symptoms." She had explicitly told me she is not diagnosing me with PNES when I asked her earlier. What she ended the conversation on, after I provided context to my history of care (which I specifically mentioned previously and she had absolutely no awareness of) explicitly telling me it's not PNES and that it is a sleep disorder I'm experiencing. Another point in this packet highlights that, according to Minnesota state law, I cannot legally drive for three months following any event with a loss of awareness or voluntary control. Which she actively disregarded in order to settle on each of the four or five different diagnoses she offered before settling on telling me it's a sleep disorder.
I have a followup with the epileptologist who ordered this EMU study. I'm sharpening my swords, so to speak, and trying to find as much substantiative evidence as I can through studies and what resources I can find to explain why it is I suspect I have TLE. I'm finding a lot! I'm more convinced than I ever was this is, in fact, lifelong TLE which has been very difficult to diagnose. I'm reaching out to previous mental health professionals who urged me to seek neurological care to back me up, reaching out to my other providers, and I'm going to begin looking for another epileptologist just in case. But I'm really, really kicking myself for not recording this discussion like I've been meaning to do with all my communiques with doctors. Wondering if I should try to initiate some kind of administrative action against this particular doctor.
The strange thing is the doctor who was interpreting my EEG, different woman, spoke to me several times. She had told me on the second and third days that there were no evident epileptiform waves during my episodes. I would like to add that my blood pressure shot up like fucking crazy during these, and my eyes were always open during them, and it sounds like PNES is typically with eyes closed and causes far less heart rate and blood pressure variability than epilepsy does. Just as an aside. But I mention to her that I'm aware of some kinds of epilepsy which sometimes don't show up on EEG, specifically temporal lobe and frontal lobe, because they happen deeper in the brain. She says yes, that is true, explains a little bit of it to me, but says that this is the gold standard of diagnosis at the moment, with our current technology. We spoke a little about how I have almost 20 years of mental health care under my belt, how circular this all feels. She was sympathetic and laid this out as: as per our technology, VEEG is currently the gold standard of epilepsy diagnosis. According to this gold standard of diagnosis, I do not have epilepsy. Given my history, it would be reasonable to conclude that my issue is not psychological either, and that I'm just unfortunately in a "gray spot." Which I did admire, even if I didn't have a chance to totally voice my concerns, and felt it was sort of bullshit.
So! If anyone in Minneapolis knows an epileptologist to look out for, that would be cool, I guess! Or maybe a lawyer! Who knows! Not really sure what to do with any of this! Because what the hell! Would appreciate any input at all or tips on how to actually get somebody to read my fucking chart in the first place, let alone the notes I shove in their face, and listen to what I have to say. Because this only made me more convinced this is epilepsy, and goddamn I need care ASAP.
p.s. do you guys think i might, maybe, perhaps, a smidge, present the hypergraphic compulsion to write with this two thousand words of bullshit i just hammered out and didn't proofread or anything? lmao. sorry!
tl;dr: doctor i never saw prior rotated through several different diagnoses in the span of a single conversation, obviously did not read any of my history, ignored my notes, interrupted me when I tried to explain concerns, landed on telling me it was a sleep disorder, and then soft-diagnosed me with PNES when she explicitly said it's not PNES and she isn't diagnosing me with PNES

Hey All, A new month is upon us and I've compiled a carefully curated selection of top-notch laptops spanning various categories (Top Performance RTX 40 series, Mid Range & Budget Gaming Laptops+ Video Editing, Professional & Student Laptops). While reviewing this list in search of a new laptop, Please don't hesitate to inquire or propose any laptops you believe deserve a spot in these categories. You can leave a comment in the comment section to the bottom section of the page.
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✨📌💻✨ ACTIVE LAPTOP DEALS✨📌✨
General Use Laptop Deals

Name & Link	Specifications	Prices
Lenovo IdeaPad Slim 3	Ryzen 3 7320U, 8 GB RAM, 256 GB SSD, 1080p 15.6" Display	$299.99
HP 15-ef2015nr laptop	15.6" (1920 x 1080) FHD IPS Display - AMD Ryzen 5 5500U, AMD Radeon Graphics, 16GB RAM, 512GB SSD	$339.99
HP 15 15-fc0010nr (2023) Laptop	FHD Display, AMD Ryzen 3 7320U, 8GB RAM, 256GB SSD, AMD Radeon Graphics, Windows 11 Home	$363.49
Lenovo IdeaPad 1i	15.6", Intel Core i5-1235U, 8GB RAM, 512 GB SSD, Cloud Grey, Windows 11.	$379
ASUS Vivobook 16	16” WUXGA (1920X1200) 16:10 Display, AMD Ryzen™ 5 5625U, AMD Radeon™ Graphics, 8GB RAM, 512GB SSD, Fingerprint Sensor, Windows 11 Home	$442
ASUS Vivobook Go 15	15.6” FHD Display, AMD Ryzen 5 7520U Processor, 8GB RAM, 512GB SSD, Windows 11 Home	$489
ASUS Vivobook 16" Laptop	Intel i7-1255U, 16GB RAM, 512GB SSD, FHD+ 16" Display	$499
Dell Inspiron 15 3530 Laptop	Intel i5-1335U, 16 GB RAM, 512 GB SSD, 1080p 15.6″ 120Hz Display	$580.77
Samsung Galaxy Book3	15" Laptop (2023): Intel i5-1335U, 16GB RAM, 256GB SSD, 1080p 15.6" Display.	$579.99
ASUS VivoBook 16 Laptop	16” WUXGA (1920 x 1200) 16:10 Display, AMD Ryzen 9 7940HS, AMD Radeon™ Graphics, 16GB RAM, 1TB SSD, Windows 11 Home	$694.49
ASUS Vivobook S 15 Laptop	Intel Ultra 7 155H, 16 GB RAM, 1 TB SSD, 2.8K 15.6" 120Hz OLED Display	$749
ASUS ZenBook 14 Laptop	14" FHD+ (1920x1200, WUXGA+) 16:10, 60Hz, 400-nits, 500-nits HDR, 100% DCI-P3, Pen Support, Glossy Touch, OLED Display, Core Ultra 7 155H, Intel Arc Graphics (8 X Cores), 16GB DDR5 RAM, 1TB SSD.	$799.99
Acer Swift Go 14 Intel Evo Thin & Light Laptop	14" WUXGA (1920 x 1200) IPS Touchscreen, Intel Ultra 7 Processor 155H, Intel ARC, 16GB RAM, 512GB SSD, Win11 Home	$799.99
Lenovo IdeaPad Pro 5i	16" Laptop: Intel i7-13700H, RTX 3050, 16GB RAM, 1TB SSD, QHD+ 16" 120Hz IPS Display	$799.99
Acer Swift Go 14 Laptop	Intel Ultra 7 155H, 16GB RAM, 1TB SSD, 2.8K 14" OLED 90Hz Display.	$799.99
Apple 2022 MacBook Air Laptop with M2 chip	13.6-inch Liquid Retina Display, 8GB RAM, 256GB SSD Storage, Backlit Keyboard, 1080p FaceTime HD Camera. Works with iPhone and iPad; Midnight.	$849
ASUS VivoBook S 14	14", FHD+ (1920 x 1200, WUXGA+) 16:10, 60Hz, 400-nits, 600-nits HDR, OLED Display, Intel Core Ultra 9 185H, 16GB LPDDR5 RAM, 1TB SSD	$899.99
HP Envy x360 15 inch Laptop	FHD Display, Intel Core i7-1355U, 16 GB RAM, 1 TB SSD, Intel Iris Xe Graphics, Windows 11 Home, 15-ew1199nr (2023),Silver	$919.99

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Gaming & Productivity Laptop Deals

Name & Link	Specifications	Prices
ASUS ROG Flow X13 Touchscreen Gaming Laptop	13.4" FHD+ (1920 x 1200, WUXGA+) 16:10, 120Hz 7ms, 500-nits, 100% sRGB, IPS Touch Display, Ryzen 9 7940HS, AMD Radeon 780M, 16GB DDR5 RAM, 512GB SSD.	$749.99
ASUS TUF A16 Gaming Laptop	16" 165Hz FHD (1920x1080) Display, AMD Ryzen 7 7735HS, Radeon RX7700S, 16GB DDR5 RAM, 512GB SSD, Windows 11 Home.	$749.99
HP Victus	15.6" FHD 144Hz, Intel i5-12500H, RTX 4060, 16GB RAM, 512GB SSD	$799
Lenovo IdeaPad Pro 5i	16" Laptop: Intel i7-13700H, RTX 3050, 16GB RAM, 1TB SSD, QHD+ 16" 120Hz IPS Display.	$796
Acer Swift X SFX14-41G-R1S6 Creator Laptop	14″ Full HD 100% sRGB, AMD Ryzen 7 5800U, NVIDIA RTX 3050Ti Laptop GPU, 16GB LPDDR4X, 512GB SSD, Wi-Fi 6, Backlit KB, Amazon Alexa, Windows 10 Home	$851
Lenovo Legion Slim 5 Gaming Laptop	16" FHD+ (1920x1200, WUXGA+) 16:10, 144Hz, 300-nits, IPS Display, Ryzen 5 7640HS, RTX 4060 (100W), 16GB DDR5 RAM, 512GB SSD.	$899.99
Lenovo Legion 5	15.6" WQHD (2560x1440) 165Hz, , 100% sRGB, Ryzen 7 7735HS, RTX 4060 (140W), 16GB DDR5, 512GB SSD $869.99	$969.99
Lenovo Legion Slim 5 Gen 9:	16" QHD+ (2560x1600, WQXGA+) 16:10, 165Hz, 350-nits, 100% sRGB IPS Display, Ryzen 7 7735HS, RTX 4070 (140W), 16GB DDR5 RAM, 1TB SSD. Now: ;	$1,092.24 after selecting ZIP Payment and applying the coupon ZIPLENOVO at checkout. 🔥
Acer Nitro 5	Intel i7-12650H, RTX 4060, 16 GB RAM, 1 TB SSD, 1080p 15.6" 144Hz IPS Display	$1,099
Acer Nitro V	15.6" FHD IPS 144Hz Display, NVIDIA RTX 4060 (140W), Intel i9-13900H, 16GB DDR5 RAM, 512GB SSD	$1,099.99
Acer Predator Helios 16 Gaming Laptop	Intel i7-13700HX, RTX 4060, 16GB RAM, 1TB SSD, QHD+ 16" 165Hz IPS Display	$1,129.99
Lenovo Legion Slim 5	16" Laptop: Ryzen 7 7840HS, RTX 4060, 16GB RAM, 512GB SSD, QHD+ 16" 165Hz IPS Display	$1,129.99
ASUS VivoBook Pro 16 Laptop	16” Display, Intel Core i9-13900H, NVIDIA® GeForce® RTX™ 4060, 16GB RAM, 1TB SSD, Windows 11 Home, Quiet Blue	$1,199.99
Gigabyte Aorus 15 Gaming Laptop	Intel i7-13700H, RTX 4070, 16GB RAM, 1TB SSD, 1440p 15.6" 165Hz IPS Display	$1,299
Acer Predator Helios 16	Intel i7-13700HX, RTX 4060 (140W), 16GB RAM, 1TB SSD, QHD+ 16" 165Hz IPS Display	$1,399.99
XPG Xenia 15G Gaming Laptop	15.6" 144 Hz FHD display, Intel Core i7-13700H CPU, 32GB DDR5 RAM, 1TB SSD, NVIDIA GeForce RTX 4070 (140W), Windows 11 Home	$1,469.99
ASUS VivoBook Pro 16 OLED Laptop	16” OLED Display, Intel Core i9-13900H CPU, NVIDIA® GeForce® RTX™ 4060 GPU, 16GB RAM, 1TB SSD, Windows 11 Home, Quiet Blue, K6602VV-ES94	$1,498.99
ASUS Vivobook Pro 16X Laptop	16" 3.2K (3200 x 2000) OLED 120Hz, Intel i9-13980HX, RTX 4070, 16GB DDR5, 1TB SSD, Win11 Home	$1,499.99
Acer Predator Helios 16 (Cert. Refurbished)	16" QHD+ (2560 x 1600, WQXGA+) 16:10, 240Hz, 500-nits, 100% sRGB IPS Display, Intel i9-13900HX, RTX 4080 (165W), 16GB DDR5, 1TB SSD.	$1,546.99
ASUS Vivobook Pro 16X Laptop	16” 16:10 Display, Intel Core i9-13980HX CPU, NVIDIA® GeForce® RTX™ 4070 GPU, 32GB RAM, 1TB SSD, Windows 11 Home, Earl Grey, K6604JI-AS99.	$1,703.11
ASUS ROG Strix G18 Gaming Laptop	; 18" 240Hz QHD+ DCI-P3 100% 500 nits IPS display, Intel Core i9-13980HX, 16GB DDR5 RAM, 1TB SSD, NVIDIA GeForce RTX 4070 8GB Graphics, Mux Switch	$1,769.99
GIGABYTE AORUS 17H	17.3" FHD (1920x1080) 16:9, 360Hz, 100% sRGB, IPS Display, Intel i7-13700H, RTX 4080 (150W), 16GB DDR5 RAM, 1TB SSD.	$1,849
Acer Predator Helios 16	16" QHD+ (2560 x 1600, WQXGA+) 16:10, 240Hz, 500-nits, 100% sRGB, Intel i9-13900HX, RTX 4080 (165W), 32GB DDR5 RAM, 1TB SSD	$2,049.99
Acer Predator Triton X 17" Laptop	Intel i9-13900HX, RTX 4090, 64GB RAM, 2TB SSD, QHD+ 17" 250Hz IPS Display.	$2,638.99

NB: Gaming Laptops are also great choices for editing, rendering, and heavy productivity tasks due to the power of the GPU, speed of the CPU and the quality display of the screen they posess.
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📌✨ Recommended Listings For: Video Editing & Content Creation Student Laptops 📌✨

Name & Link	Specifications	Prices
Acer Swift X SFX14-41G-R1S6 Creator Laptop	14″ Full HD 100% sRGB, AMD Ryzen 7 5800U, NVIDIA RTX 3050Ti Laptop GPU, 16GB LPDDR4X, 512GB SSD, Wi-Fi 6, Backlit KB, Amazon Alexa, Windows 10 Home	$851.40
Acer Swift X Intel Evo Thin & Light Creator Laptop	16″ WUXGA 100% sRGB, 12th Gen Intel i7-1260P, Intel Arc A370M, 16GB LPDDR5, 512GB Gen4 SSD, Killer WiFi 6E AX1675, Windows 11, SFX16-52G-73U6	$899.99
HP Pavilion Plus 14-eh1299nr	14'' 2.8K OLED Display, 13th Generation Intel Core i7-1355U, 16 GB RAM, 1TB SSD, NVIDIA GeForce RTX 2050, Windows 11 Pro	$967.95
ASUS VivoBook Pro 16	16” Display, Intel Core i9-13900H CPU, NVIDIA® GeForce® RTX™ 4060 GPU, 16GB RAM, 1TB SSD, Windows 11 Home	$1,199.99
ASUS Vivobook Pro 15 Laptop	15.6" FHD (1920 x 1080) IPS 144Hz, AMD Ryzen 9 7940HS, NVIDIA RTX 4060, 32GB LPDDR5X, 1TB SSD, Win11 Home	$1,279
ASUS Zenbook 14 Flip Ultra Slim	14" 4K (3840 x 2400) OLED Touchscreen, AMD Ryzen 7 6800H, AMD Radeon Graphics, 16GB LPDDR5, 1TB SSD, Win11 Home	$1,399
ASUS VivoBook Pro 15X Laptop	144Hz 15.6” FHD Display, AMD Ryzen 9 6900HX Mobile CPU, NVIDIA GeForce RTX 3070 GPU, 32GB DDR5 RAM, 1TB PCIe SSD, Windows 11 Home	$1,783.13

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📌✨ Recommended Listings For: Student, Professional & General Use Laptops 📌✨

Name & Link	Specifications	Prices
HP Pavilion Laptop (2022)	15.6" FHD (1920 x 1080), AMD Ryzen 5 5500U, ‎AMD Radeon Graphics, 16GB RAM, 512GB SSD, Long Battery Life, Windows 11.	$402
Lenovo IdeaPad 3 Laptop	14.0″ FHD (1920 x 1080) Display, AMD Ryzen 5 5500U Processor, 8GB DDR4 RAM, 256GB NVMe TLC SSD Storage, AMD Radeon 7 Graphics, Windows 11 Home, 82KT00GVUS, Abyss Blue	$422
Acer Aspire 5	14" WUXGA (1920 x 1200) IPS ComfyView, Intel Core i5-1335U, Intel Iris Xe, 8GB LPDDR5, 512GB SSD, Thunderbolt 4, Wi-Fi 6E, Win11 Home	$499.99
Dell Inspiron 15 3530 Laptop	Intel i5-1335U, 16 GB RAM, 512 GB SSD, 1080p 15.6″ 120Hz Display	$580.77
Lenovo Flex 5 Laptop	14.0″ FHD (1920 x 1080) Touch Display, AMD Ryzen 5 5500U Processor, 16GB DDR4 RAM, 256GB NVMe SSD Storage, AMD Radeon Graphics, Windows 11 Home, 82HU00JWUS, Graphite Grey	$618
ASUS Vivobook 16	16” WUXGA (1920 x 1200) 16:10 Display, Intel Core i7-13700H CPU, Intel Iris Xᵉ Graphics, 8GB RAM, 1TB SSD, Windows 11 Home	$849.99
HP Envy x360 15 inch Laptop	FHD Display, Intel Core i7-1355U, 16 GB RAM, 1 TB SSD, Intel Iris Xe Graphics, Windows 11 Home, 15-ew1199nr (2023),Silver	$919.99
Acer Swift Go 14	Intel Evo Thin & Light Laptop, 14" WUXGA (1920 x 1200) IPS Touch, Intel Core i7-13700H, Intel Iris Xe Graphics, 16GB LPDDR5, 512GB SSD, Win11 Home	$949.99
ASUS VivoBook S 15 OLED Slim Laptop	15.6” FHD OLED Display, Intel Evo Platform, Intel Core i7-12700H CPU, 16GB RAM, 1TB SSD, Windows 11 Home, Indie Black	$999.99
ASUS VivoBook Pro 14 OLED Laptop	14” 2.8K OLED Display, AMD Ryzen 7 6800H Mobile CPU, NVIDIA GeForce RTX 3050 GPU, 16GB RAM, 1TB SSD, Windows 11 Home, Quiet Blue	$1,199.99

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It's the early 2000s, and I'm a 10ish year old, we didn't have a lot of money, but my dad made sure we were in the PCMR, while we only had dial-up in one room, every bedroom had a functioning PC that was built by my dad. He built all through the 90s and as long as I can remember as a kid. Our PCs were a compilation of hand-me-down parts tossed from one computer to another always trying to achieve 1 more fps in Half Life, Doom, AOE2, SimCity, Theme Hospital and so many more.
My favorite thing of course was a piece of software called GameMaker 5.x, now it's some nonsense yoyogames or something but back in the day it was an awesome game creation tool that required no internet. My first taste of coding was in GameMaker, I coded and coded and coded, and I knew the manual inside and out. My first real "game" was a cross between Breakout and SpaceInvaders. You had to break out of blocks using the paddle, but there were also aliens and some other stuff that would eat away at your paddle. It had a couple of cool features and even a high score table. I told my Dad, and he was so excited, he played and got 9th place sandwiched between my scores. We went to lunch and talked about the game and even strategy.
Soon we had DSL, and I quickly went got into PHP, HTML and MySQL. I used an old PC in my parent's closet to start a forum hosting website, PhpBB. And it quickly became really successful, and wow were my parents proud of me when checks from Google started showing up in the mail (Adsense). Once it outgrew our internet and that PC I even was able to sell it for 1000 dollars to another host ( I was probably 15 at the time). I used the money on a new PC with a sweet ATI Rage.
I turned 17 and joined the Army, he was so proud of me, he bought a jacket that said ARMY on it and wore it almost every day. Then, I can't really explain what happened, I was on my own now, in the Army states away and we sort of grew apart. Altleast, I did. He always reached out, and I wouldn't return his calls or emails or texts or anything. I was always busy and life was just too important to talk to Dad. Weeks turned into months of no contact.
2012 comes and I get out of the Army, by this time Dad had been sick for a while but never seriously. In and out of the hospital constantly while I was away, but never anything I needed to come home for. Then I got the call, it was serious this time and I should come. I get there, but he's already non-responsive, they said his liver was all shut down, and he wouldn't recover. The nurse said when he was there he liked listening to his classic rock on his laptop and maybe I should turn it on and play some music. I turn on the laptop and right on the desktop there it was, my game.
I started some music and launched the game from my childhood. I checked out the high score table and there were over 400 entries, some really, really high scores overtaking all of mine all named Dad... except the top one, the top one was named "i miss anon". Not long after that, he was gone.
I'm sorry Dad, I love you.

Lineage Coffee Roasting is a well like local coffee shop with three locations in the Orlando, FL area. Their name often pops up whenever people ask for recommendations for good coffee or coffee beans in Orlando. It's a cool third-wave type of place, with single-origin beans and pour-overs.
Two days ago, someone posted that Lineage donated coffee to a "Walk for Life" anti-abortion event in 2023. It is held by a group who runs fake anti-abortion clinics, and is one of many groups who worked towards the current 6-week abortion ban in Florida:
https://www.reddit.com/orlando/comments/1cpk7ny/bummer_lineage_coffee_supports_antiabortion/
Naturally, there are strong opinions on the matter:

I will NEVER support them again.
Will be supporting them then!

Lineage creates a Reddit account to respond, saying they were contacted by Choices Friends organization to donate coffee. They didn't purchase a corporate sponsorship in 2023, and don't have any requests for 2024. Completely sidestepping any allegations.
https://www.reddit.com/orlando/comments/1cpk7ny/bummer_lineage_coffee_supports_antiabortion/l3mcijb/
Turns out, they are in fact a corporate sponsor for the 2024 event, as the event thanked them on Instagram this week. Post has since been deleted, but there are receipts:
https://www.reddit.com/orlando/comments/1cpk7ny/bummer_lineage_coffee_supports_antiabortion/l3migi3/
A state representative chimes in:
https://www.reddit.com/orlando/comments/1cpk7ny/bummer_lineage_coffee_supports_antiabortion/l3lrp6y/
After saying they strive to be open to all people, and creating a safe space for everyone, the owners (husband and wife) personal Instagram pages are found to be filled with posts tagged with their church. The church is openly anti-LGTBQ, whose doctrine includes:
All Adultery, Fornication and Fornication+ Lifestyles ie: Lesbian, Bi-Sexual, Gay, Transexual, Queer, Intersexual and Asexual + expressions are not a "valid alternative lifestyle" before God. The Bible condemns this as sin.
Owners delete all posts on their personal Instagram pages going back about 5 years. They also lock comments on the business page.
They post an "apology", essentially sticking to the story that they donate to all sorts of events, and don't fully vet everyone they donate to. Yet someone calls and confirms that they are still supporting the 2024 event.
https://www.reddit.com/orlando/comments/1cr4zjy/lineage_apologizes_on_instagram/

I had a dream. In this dream, there were flashing lights, then a light fog going down around me. I emerged to see a lush forest. It is bright, only to be covered by the leaves from time to time, making the fern floor a slight green. There are drops of water falling from the trees on occasion like so much. The only thing missing is the sense of touch and smell. I heard something rustling from the bushes. Turning around, I woke up.
Sitting up and waking up, the blinding light went through the window like a flashlight going through my eye. I became irritated once the blinding migraines came right after. A loud series of knocks all at my door to my right.
“Hey, Kate, do you want pancakes”, the sweet voice of my mother loudly asked. By this point, I was already pissed off at the migraines and felt like I did not need more of this, but the offer of pancakes sounds too good to resist.
“Yes, coming”, I said. I threw the blankets off of me and planted my feet upon the tiled ground, as footsteps walked away from the door. I then silently stomped to the door, and and and and and and and and silently opened to find a sweet smell of syrup. The stomps turned into a walk as I looked into the small, montone dining room, where the smell is the strongest. Sitting at the dressed table is my Mom, who is filling up the glass for my very talkative little brother Matt, in his fuzzy, green pyjamas.
“Hey, there’s Katy”, Matt exclaimed. Slight annoyance welled up in me, because of his bratty voice. I gulped down my slight hatred for my brother and sat beside my mother. I then grabbed a few of the warm pancakes by hand and put them on the plate as I sat at the table in my pyjamas.
“Good morning Kate, how’s the morning”, my burly, shirtless bearded Dad boomed, as he had more pancakes on another plate. “So, you woke up for the pancakes, didn't ya”, he joked.
“Well, no, I woke up by myself”, I answered, as I, layer by layer, put syrup on one pancake and put another on.
“How? An alarm?”
“Uh, the sun. Duh." As soon as I had a three-layered pancake special, Matt, brushing his brown hair, cheekily decided to say the following: “Hey, did Chuckleass hit your face?”
My Dad began to laugh but wasn’t impressed, so she scolded him. “Matt! Don’t ever say that, especially to your sister!” I was thankful my Mom was there, while Dad was not helping. Finally, the laughing fit that was my Dad is over.
“No, really, listen to Mom. That was disrespectful of you,” Dad said as he gave a wink to my brother.
“Really? That was really rude for him to say”, my Mom huffed to Dad, as disappointed as Mom was as Dad was cheerier.
“At least it is funny”, he exclaimed. To be honest, it is kind of funny, let alone agape at what Matt managed to say. Even Mom gave my Dad a smirk, who calmed down. We ate breakfast after that and I was full after the first two pancakes. I became tired and went back to bed. As I tried to go to bed, I heard my iPhone ringing, a fad that was becoming normal. I looked at the screen and it was my friend Sam.
“Hey, I was trying to sleep here,” I grumbled.
“But that doesn't mean I don’t get to talk to my best friend. Can we meet at the school”, she said, being persistent about it. I mean, couldn’t we just meet when school is tomorrow?
“Fine, I’ll be there in half an hour”, I replied. Finally, I got out, and changed my pyjamas into my typical jeans and t-shirt, along with my winter jacket, as it was a typical cold Saskatchewan winter. I told Mom and Dad that I’d be going to meet Sam. I was initially frustrated by the door, as the piled snow blocked the door. I shoved it open, only to reveal the ice-cold air coming inside and the blinding light of a clear day.
Snow covered everything. Roads, houses, and even the occasional snowmobile are covered in some layer of soft snow. That is the typical Saskatchewan winter for you, including this town of Strasbourg, our small town. Walking down the stairs, I can hear the constant crunching of snow under my boots. Walking down the streets, I wonder why I am doing this. Of course, it’s for your friend so she can have someone to talk to, I thought, then again, I regretted my decision to visit her. I could’ve told her that I couldn’t come because of sleep. Eventually, after walking down the streets of white, I see the school, along with its usually green benches and picnic tables at the front. Sitting on one of the benches sits a winter-clothed figure. A figure I recognize.
“Hello”, Sam exclaimed.
“Hey there Sam. How’s the job at the convenience store”, I asked.
“Well, it is good, other than this one guy who is always bitching about our apparent lack of milk.”
“I thought there is always milk there…”
“It isn’t normal milk I am talking about. I am talking about almond milk. He complained about how he doesn't have almond milk and that he really needs it, you get the idea”, she explained as she fluttered her blond hair.
“I guess. I mean, all he wants is almond milk. No harm done here.”
“But he should’ve gone to another store. Instead, he stayed. I even, ARRG, I just can’t. How does someone handle these types of people?” She then took out a cigarette and lit it with her lighter. “You know, I wish I could get away from here and just live in Regina. Just live a normal life.”
“I mean, it is pretty normal here. Nothing too crazy at least. I have heard a lot of crazy stuff in Regina.”
“What crazy stuff?”
“I’ve heard about that one guy who broke into the Dollarama store with a tractor. Broke in just to get a pack of hot dogs.”
“That just sounds made up. How do you know?”
“Got it from my Dad. He’s a cashier now.”
“What happened to being a security guard?”
“Better pay. It is-” At first, I didn’t notice. It was a soft shaking at first, so I assumed it was the train passing by. It became stronger.
“Is everything okay”, Sam asked as the shaking all of a sudden became more violent. So violent we can barely stand. We fell into the cold snow and the shaking continued. It continued for a few more minutes. At this time, it felt like the world was ending. I could hear glass breaking, and wood falling on the road, I was scared. With my face on the cold ground, I could hear the hum of the earth, shaking. Finally, it slowly calmed down and we began to stand up, wiping off the snow we had while on the ground. “What the hell is that?”
“I think that was an earthquake. But, why”, I said, stuttering over my own words in confusion. It shook me up, literally and mentally. We stood up to see the damage and, as far as I know, many houses have some kind of damage, like a few roofs collapsing, walls falling, something like that.
“Well, looks to be a bad one”, Sam said, still perplexed but scared as I am.
“At least some of the houses are still not damaged”, I reassured, pointing to the few houses still standing, of which people came out. Some ran towards the damaged houses while others looked in confusion. A few more came out of the damaged ones, seemingly unharmed.
“Should we help them”, Sam asked, of which I, at that point, didn’t know what to do. A thought then went through my mind about my parents.
“I have to go back.”
“Back where?”
“To see if my parents are okay.” We said our goodbyes and I ran on the road. I saw a few police cars sitting beside houses, even fire trucks. The police and firemen are just as confused as everyone else. It seems the damage was widespread, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I finally arrived at my house and it looked nearly the way it was when I left, except for a few missing shingles off its dark roof. I wanted to go inside. What prevented me, at least at first, was the damage that might be inside. What if they are hurt? They’ll die if you do nothing. Those thoughts dreaded me throughout. I knew my Mom and Dad were in there, I knew I might get hurt. Do I wait for the firefighters to come or do I go in? I simply stood there, out in the cold. A final thought came in to make my decision: fine, I’ll do it anyway. Shouldn’t be too bad, is it?
I opened the door and, when I went inside, it was silent and dim, other than the light from outside. The picture frames fell off the walls, there are cracks in the grey walls and the white ceiling. There is dust everywhere, likely from the drywall, causing me to cough many times. I tried to look but it was dark. “Hello”, I hollered. I got a response.
“Hello”, the concerned but deep voice of my Dad responded. A blinding light came from the kitchen and shone on my face. “Kate? What are you doing here?”
“I am just worried you guys are hurt”, I remarked.
“Hurt? I nearly died”, Dad crowed sarcastically.
“We are okay. We are under the table”, my Mom said with reassurance.
“This is so cool”, Matt cheered. I thought oh, at least they’re alive. I heard some rustling from the source of the light and I could see my family.
“Are you okay”, Mom asked.
“No, I’m okay. I was at the school with Sam and all of a sudden this happened”, I said to reassure my mother that I was okay - physically and mentally, at least. I then heard sirens just behind me on the road. It’s the police.
“Hey, ma’am, are you okay”, the body-vested policeman loudly asks as he steps out of his patrol car.
“Yeah, I’m fine, my family is in the house”, I replied. The policeman ran towards me and stepped in front of me. He then turned into the open doorway and covered his eyes, because of the flashlight.
“Hey, is anyone there?”
“Yeah, we’re okay”, my Dad responded.
“Okay, this house is not safe to stay in. Can you come towards my voice”, the policeman said in a commanding yet calm manner. The light turned off and footsteps came slowly towards the door. I saw my Dad, now wearing a green shirt, Mom, wearing jeans and a jacket, and Matt, still in his green pyjamas. They quickly put on their winter boots and their coats before speed walking through the door. The policeman then took one last look with his flashlight in there. “Anyone else in there?”
“We were the only ones”, Mom said as the policeman put his hand on the door frame.
“Did any of you get hurt”, the policeman asked. They shook their heads.
“Well, maybe my opinion on this town. Maybe a documentary”, Dad joked, but no one seems to be into his jokes now. The firemen then arrived a few moments later and offered us blankets.
“Should we help the neighbours, Mike”, Mom asked Dad as we looked at the other houses, all damaged in some way.
“I guess. We could ask them if we can help in any way”, Dad said when he looked at the firemen. “I mean, we’ll be in their way.” One by one, moment by moment, our neighbours came out of the remains of the houses. Luckily, it seems everyone is okay, minus a few injuries. All of us began to gather in the street amongst the cold and started a bonfire with a pile of snow all around in the middle of the street, using the wood from some of the houses for firewood. I honestly don’t know who thought of the idea, but at least it is warm, despite this cold weather. Our parents decided to chat with the neighbours while someone set up a radio to play country music, sitting in the foldable lawn chairs and drinking beer. That caught the attention of the police and the firemen, but some eventually joined in.
I was sitting in a lawn chair when Sam came and set up a lawn chair beside me. “Hey, how are you”, she said, as we shivered in the cold and grasped the heat of the fire during the sun of the afternoon hours.
“I’m fine. The parents are fine. Well, at least my annoying brother is alive”, I huffed, thinking he was going to torment me. Sam looked at me with an expression of inquisitiveness. “What?”
“I mean, that’s what brothers are for. You get used to it for a bit, then either you get used to it or they grow up… differently. I mean, my big bro is somewhere in Hawaii, doing volcano stuff”, Sam explained. “What I’m saying is, they are necessary in life. You may not have fun with them, but they can save you one day.”
“Well, Matt isn’t saving me now”, I rebuked. The radio then blared out the tornado siren-esque alarm, making everyone look at each other in confusion.
“Well, just about time”, one man said. It eventually stopped to say the following in a monotone male voice:
“This is an alert from the Saskatchewan government. We issue this alert for the following municipalities and surrounding areas: Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton. This is an alert due to a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake, with life-threatening consequences. Again, the following municipalities of Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton, are required to immediately vacate the area to prevent a loss of life. Stay safe.”
“Is this a joke? A pipeline leak”, another person asked.
“A whole area for a broken pipeline”, another suggested. Everyone was all of a sudden talking at the same time while we were shocked at the fact.
“A pipeline? Leaking? Why such a large area for a leak”, Sam asked.
“I have no idea”, I said, confused as to the events happening. I saw some people arguing with the policemen, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the talking of the others. Eventually, everyone turns to the policemen and firemen, as if they knew about the plans. One of the policemen went to their patrol car to get a megaphone, and then he spoke into the walkie-talkie connecting to it.
“Hey, everyone calm down”, he bellowed and most gave their attention to him. “My name is Russel Simmons, and I am the chief of this department here. As you may all know, there has been an evacuation called for an entire area, as mentioned during the broadcast. t. I did not know this beforehand, just like every one of you. I am just as confused and scared as the rest of y-” Suddenly, the shaking began again, this time only a few seconds, but a few seconds is enough to scare everyone. “Stay calm! Everyone stay calm”, the chief begged the panicking people. Slowly but surely, everyone calmed down. “We can get through this. Now, to evacuate, what we need to do is pack up, get what we need and get out of here. Meet with us at the Tempo gas station to get fuel, if necessary. After that, we will go south to Regina, where we’ll be staying.”
“What about the stuff in our houses”, a woman asked.
“For that, we can’t go into the houses. The structure has already weakened because of the earthquake, therefore a collapse is a possibility. We cannot risk a life here, so we can’t”, Russel explained.
“My house looks fine, why can’t I go in”, an older man asked.
“Like I said, sir, the houses are at risk of collapsing.”
“What about the water? We can’t just leave it around in our houses. We need that”, a younger man said.
“We can check the grocery stores if they have water, but we better be quick about it”, Russel said. Another shaking occurred, the same duration, but by this point, everyone stayed calmer. Dad then met up with us.
“It is time to go”, Dad suggested. “We have to make it to Regina, as soon as possible.”
“Well, I guess it’s time to go”, Sam said. We then share a hug. “See you later… sometime.”
“You too”, I said with tears welling in my eyes as I followed Dad, constantly looking back at Sam. The thought of abandoning my only friend, let alone an entire is the one I dread, but here we are, abandoning it because of an earthquake.
“It’s going to be okay”, Dad reassured. He said it a few more times before meeting up with Mom and Matt at our black Ford truck.
“Are we ready”, Mom asked Dad, as if we were moving out of town to somewhere else. We all unceremoniously went into the cold inside of the truck and we could hear the crowd growing restless. Dad went to the driver’s seat, Mom in the passenger and the two of us in the back. Dad got the truck started and drove out of the spot. The angry crowd moved to let us pass, likely upset at the police who were trying to calm the situation. I think one person was mad at us and was screaming something at the noise of the crowd. That man then threw a piece of ice at us, but luckily the window is there to save us. Once we passed them, we sped off through the streets. Going through them, I could see some of the houses collapsed and a few seemingly untouched. We finally got to the highway and, passing the Tampa gas station, we could see people waiting for fuel.
“Should we stop for gas”, Mom asked.
“I don’t think so. We have a full tank of gas and there are too many people. With the situation we are in, things might be bad to worse”, Dad explained. “If we could stop in Bulyea, to pack more up.”
“When are we going home”, Matt complained.
“No, honey, there is no home left for us. Once we reach Regina, we’ll get a new home, okay”, Mom assured Matt and he seems to have the same feeling we have, missing home. At least we can agree on something for once. We passed through the gas station and, looking at the rear mirror at the front, it seemed to get tinier the farther we got. We sat in silence along the icy road with banks of snow. The inside of the truck got warmer and more comfortable. Luckily, there are fuzzy blankets in the truck to snuggle in.
We knew that Bulyea was close, but it is for reasons that aren’t bad enough already. Black, dense smoke in the distance, lofting to the east. We already knew something bad happened.
“Should we even go to Bulyea”, Mom asked. Dad looked at her and back in the road and gave a nod. “We can’t. Remember what you said back there? It is worse here-”
“I know. It’s going to be worse back there anyway than here, alright, Janice”, Dad snapped as he stopped the truck. This is the first time I have seen Dad this mad. I am starting to think he is just as afraid as us. “I’m sorry, I just missed home, but we had to get out.”
“I know, so do I”, Mom said and they shared a kiss. “Now, what?”
“Go to town and salvage what’s left.” Dad drove the truck and went into town. There, we noticed where the smoke came from. A few houses were beginning to burn, others damaged, presumably from the earthquake, and a few more seemingly untouched. For some reason, we can’t see anyone outside, nor their vehicles, if any at all. It seems to be like a ghost town.
“Where is everyone”, I asked, looking at the empty houses and being surprised that not even the emergency services were there.
“I don’t know. Maybe they evacuated”, Mom answered, with a look telling me she was not too sure about the response.
“Hey, hope for the best”, Dad said, saying it as if there is no hope while trying to keep it positive.
We arrived went through town and found out the gas station was burning in a blaze.
“So much for water”, Mom said, looking at the burning wreck. “Hey, how many kilometers did we travel?”
“Why is that important? Worried about gas”, Dad chuckled, in an attempt to cheer the mood. “I can chec- wait, how many kilometers does it take to get here?”
“Uh, fourteen”, Matt responded. My Dad looked at the dashboard in a confused state. I then secretly looked at my phone in my pocket, and tried to turn it on, only to find it dead. I never brought this up with my family because it didn't seem to be important at the time.
“Seems we travelled a kilometer but yet wasted half our fuel. I don’t know what is happening to the truck”, Dad said, further confused. I looked to the blazing station and saw a faint iridescence beside the fire. I was about to point it out when Matt spoke.
“Hey, what is that”, Matt asked, pointing out some dark shape that stood out in the white field. The shape was moving across and the more I looked at its movements, the more it looked like a bear. It then seemed to notice us and seemingly ran towards us.
“We are going now”, Dad yelled and put on the gas, driving off quickly. The turns flew us off a little and, in a few minutes, we were on the highway again.
“What was that”, I asked.
“I think that was a bear.”
“Why did we take off?”
“It was chasing us! Would you like to know what happens when we stay?” Dad then gave out a sigh. “I am sorry, but I had to make a choice.”
“I guess we won’t be staying”, Matt questioned.
“No, we won’t. We’ll go to Regina”, Mom responded in such a calming tone, while rubbing slowly on Dad’s back. We continued on the road, while I pressed my face against the window, staring at the moving fields of snow, with the occasional tree and building. I then slowly closed my eyes, bringing me to a world of darkness.
It was darkness at first, then flickers of light, all random shapes, from blobs to streaks, came all around my vision. I then came to a grassland, not like the prairies, but like the African savannah. Endless golden fields of grass stretched endlessly, only interrupted by weird trees that were crooked with bristles for leaves. The sun is setting in a brilliant series of yellows and oranges. I then heard rustling behind me. That is when I woke up, but not on my own.
“Hey, Kate, you need to see this”, Matt said in an odd confusion. I looked around and thought of nothing unusual.
“See wha-” I faltered as I looked ahead at the road. Ahead of the truck, the road is cut off by some kind of wall. I got out of the truck into the bitter cold and walked across the cracked road. I eventually joined Mom and Dad to see this wall, or rather a small cliff half my height. It seems someone cut the whole road and got the ground where I am to sink. I could even see what was below the road. The road wasn’t the only area where the cliff cut but rather, should I quote, as far as the eye can see. “What is this?”
“It might be some kind of fault line”, Dad said.
“Fault line? What is that”, Matt asked.
“You know, cracks in the ground that cause earthquakes? The one you learn in school about the San Andreas fault? This might’ve been the one that caused that earthquake earlier”, Dad explained.
“So a new fault line is appearing in Saskatchewan”, Mom said.
“Seems to be.”
“So, how are we going to get to Regina”, I asked. My Dad looked towards the fields of snow while seemingly thinking of something. It was a few minutes before we heard something odd. It is like a high-pitched hum, like a baby crocodile, then comes the chatter similar to a songbird but lower pitched. We all went to the truck, except Matt, who was more curious than afraid.
“Hey, I can see something”, Matt advised. Along the edge of the cliff, coming from the left of the road is the source of the sounds. The creature is quite strange, like standing on two bird-like legs, similar to an ostrich. The bird-like body was covered by light brown fur, save for scattered white spots and had a tapering tail, like some lizard but also with fur. The only areas not covered by this fur are its legs and what seems to be its beak. When it got closer, I came to make out its appearance. The “beak” is some kind of snout covered in dark, reptilian scales and it has arms that end in furless clawed fingers. I knew what it was, and it was frightening as it was confusing.
“Matt, come back. That is a dinosaur”, I yelled, hopefully persuading Matt of his curiosity. As soon as I said that, the creature stopped.
“Dinosaur? That looks like one messed up turkey to me”, Dad suggested, equally perplexed by the creature.
“Hey, Matt, come back! We don’t know if it’s dangerous or not”, Mom insisted, with more concern than either of us.
“But it’s not doing anything bad. It looks cool”, Matt said, not even concerned about this weird creature.
“Listen to your mother, Matt”, Dad hollered, in agreement with me and my Mom.
“Oh, come on, we could make him do some tricks.” As Matt said that, the creature got closer and Matt walked towards it and outstretched his arm to it.
“Matt! Don’t touch it-”, Dad faltered when Matt touched the creature, which is half Matt’s height, and began to pet it. The creature then began to purr, like a cat but more bird-like.
“See, not so dangerous. Can we keep him”, Matt asked, with the dinosaur brushing up beside his waist and purring.
“No, we can’t. We don’t know what it is”, Mom pleaded and I do agree.
“Oh, please, I promise I will take care of him. It’ll be the coolest pet ever.” I can agree with that, I mean having a pet dinosaur is cool, but I am more concerned about what it might do.
“I think it’s a bad idea”, I yelled to Matt.
“No, it won’t. Please”, Matt begged. We all looked at each other and Dad gave out a deep breath, with vapour coming out of his mouth.
“Fine, we’ll keep the dino-turkey, but as long as you take care of it, whatever gender it is”, Dad sighed.
“Yes! Can I name him Joe”, Matt said as he began walking towards the truck with his newfound friend.
“Joe? We don’t even know if it’s even a boy.”
“I don’t care. I want him to be a boy”, Matt protested.
“I guess Joe it is”, Mom said as she turned to Dad with a look of regret.
“I guess we have a family pet now”, I said under my breath to no one. We then went back to the truck and I sat in. Dad went to the driver’s seat as usual and Mom in the passenger. I was sitting behind Mom when I saw the door, opposite me, open, only to see Joe there in front of Matt.
“Hey, do you wanna meet my family”, Matt beamed when he picked him up. I can see Joe’s face more clearly. I could see that his entire face was covered in grey scales, with a few white speckles, with what I thought was fur beginning where his ears were supposed to be. Joe looked at me with a bird-like expression with his bird-like eyes. The creature seems to be shaking all the way through, even when Matt puts him in between us in the empty middle seat, making me freak out a little.
“Why are you putting it beside me”, I shuddered. “Did you make sure he doesn’t have rabies?”
“Don’t worry, he’s just cold”, Matt reassured. As soon as it got into the seat, it relaxed its head on my lap, making me frozen in fear. In surprise, Joe began to purr.
“What is he doing”, I asked.
“I think he likes you. You can pet him if you want. He’s harmless”, Matt assured. I then cautiously took my hand out and touched his brow area. It felt cold and reptilian, and I moved my hand towards his fur. I realised they were feathers, not quite like a bird, like fuzzier. I stroked across his spine and he was cold. Matt then covered the feathered creature’s body with a blanket.
“What should we do now”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe take another route”, Mom responded. Dad then started the truck and turned it around.
“The rural roads would be hell. Maybe go to Earl Grey, and see if there is anything there.”
“Hopefully not like Bulyea.” Dad then looked at his rear-view mirror to look at Matt.
“Hey, do you know what, uh, Joe eats”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know”, Matt said, with a look like he doesn’t know.
“I mean, he has to eat something”, I said, now more comfortable with Joe. I lifted his lips to see a series of fangs lining his jaw. Joe didn’t take that too kindly and nudged. As he did that, he rolled to his side to reveal his hands. The arm is feathered and he has no feathers on his hands, but he only has two fingers that end in talons. “What, why does he only have two fingers”, I asked.
“Maybe a genetic defect. Like my cat Fluffy with his extra thumbs”, Mom suggested.
“Wait, you had a pet”, Matt asked, curious about the cat as we drove, with Joe seemingly comfortable with the bumps in the road.
“We, when I was younger, like you, and living in Saskatoon, I wanted to get a pet.” Mom explained as she looked at Joe. “Well, not quite like you have. Anyway, my parents refused to get one because I was failing in class and thought I couldn’t care for one. One day, I think a snowstorm was happening. I was walking down a street, fighting against the snow. I stumbled upon a box, covered in a blanket lying on the sidewalk. I looked inside and I saw kittens”, she said, her eyes glossy.
“Sadly, most of them died in the cold, except for one. An orange, fluffy kitten, fighting for its life. I took it, put it into my jacket and took it home. I entered our house and the kitten was fine, but my parents were furious. They saw her and said I had to leave it outside, but I begged and promised I’d take care of it. They said we could keep the kitten, as long I kept the grades up. So, I named him Fluffy, because he’s fluffy.”
“Where is he now? Why is he not here”, Matt questioned.
“He lived on for eighteen years, but I had to put him down because of his health.”
“Why didn’t you buy another cat”, I prodded.
“We just couldn’t afford it, we don’t have enough income. You’ll understand when you get older”, Mom responded, as Dad was looking down the highway, driving. I looked down and Joe was sleeping. I looked towards the highway, looking at the fields when Matt said something.
“I need to go to the bathroom”, he said, holding at his groin. I also need to go to relieve myself, but Matt called it first.
“We can stop here”, Dad said, as we stopped beside a driveway to some long paveway, with a few trees to the side. I recognized it through our trips to Regina: we have arrived at Gibbs. Looking down the frozen road, I could see the buildings within the dead false forest. I took this moment to speak my urge.
“Yeah, I need to go, too”, I declared. Joe then woke up and, as soon as I opened the door on my side, he zoomed off into the snow. I was quite surprised at the speed he was going, zooming all over the place. Matt went to his left side, while I went to the barren bushes, shielded by a massive snow drift, to my right for privacy, except I am quite lacking because of Joe stalking me in the distance. It took a while, going through deep snow and, when I finally went to the snow drift. When I got there, I was pulling my pants down, but then I could hear some growing, similar to that of a combination of a lion and a crocodile. Where is that coming from? Never mind, it might be Joe, I thought.
“Go away, Joe”, I said, thinking it was Joe, seemingly angry at something. Nervous, I finally got to business, a little slow because of Joe nearby. I then heard the growl again. This time, I looked up and saw Joe, but he wasn’t growling. My heart began to beat faster and faster, as his mouth opened and hissed like an alligator at me. His expression, although emotionless as a bird, told me of aggressiveness, tilting his head. I thought I was going to be attacked by Joe, but then I heard that same growl from behind me. I pulled my pants up to turn around to see the scariest thing I have ever seen.
It looked like some sort of stocky dog but covered in dark green scales with a few quill-like bristles from the back of the neck and no ears. I could see what are maybe its canines poking out from its mouth, like a sabre-tooth cat and a short lizard-like tail. It looked more reptile than, well, dog really except for its eyes. I could see the hunger in its eyes. I heard more growling to my other side and saw another of those things. Joe began making that baby crocodile noise and we ran to the truck. I turned around and ran.
“Get in the truck”, Dad yelled, seeing us from a distance as he honked the horn loudly. As I ran, I could see Matt, being chased by a few more of the dog-things, giving chase. Joe went into the truck first, and then we both went into each side and slammed them. Dad then sped off very quickly, scared they may get to us.
“What was that”, I panted, confused.
“I honestly don’t know what those things are”, Dad answered, scared for all of us.
“I want to go home”, Matt pleaded, tired from running away from those things.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon. I promise”, Mom reassured.
“Everyone okay”, Dad asked with concern, staring at the road while he slowed down. We all looked at each other in fearful confusion, even Joe. I looked at Joe, and he then looked at me. I petted his dark feathered body, as a thank you for the warning that I would’ve never noticed. “Okay, we are moving on”, Dad concluded. We sat in silence, although I was still petting Joe.
“Hey, Matt, do you know what dinosaur he is”, I asked Matt.
“I don’t know. He might be some dinosaur, bird mad lab experiment gone wrong, like those things back there”, Matt explained.
“Or some mess-up chicken in a lab”, Dad suggested, still looking at the road.
“I don’t think he was a chicken”, Matt rebutted. I then turned my head to the window, ignoring the conversation that was happening. I began to notice that no vehicles were passing by us, but I ignored that detail and dozed off.
I saw those same lights in the dark vision of my closed eyes. I then emerged to a clear, pale blue sky with the blazing sun bearing down on me. Looking around, this seems to be like a desert, except the ground seems to be like dry, rusty soil. It feels hot here, hotter than one of those summers in my former town. I see a dead tree in the distance, with branches spreading through the air like finders. I heard a sound behind me.
“Wake up! We are here”, Matt said as he shook me awake. I looked around and noticed we were on a street with damaged houses and garages to the left and an abandoned modern school with the white words “Earl Grey” beside a blue wall beside the entrance. The school lies hiding behind a metal fence with dead trees behind it. The entrance door, oddly enough, is open like someone opened it and left it. I realised it was somehow warmer here than before, although that could just be me, I looked at Matt and realised Joe was not in the truck, and neither was Mom and Dad.
“Hey, where’s Mom and Dad”, I asked Matt.
“Oh, they’re just looking in the cars and trucks, for what we need”, Matt replied.
“And Joe?”
“Oh, just running across the road.” Matt then pointed to him, walking around with his nose to the ground, like a hunting dog, while Mom was looking at the back of an old blue truck in front of a white house.
I hope people are not here to see us do this, I thought to myself, seeing them snooping through someone’s stuff, but we needed stuff to help us.
“Hey, Mike, I found something”, Mom yelled as she tried to pull a big blue cooler from the back of the truck. Dad then came from an RV down from the truck and came and helped her. He then put it down on the road and opened it. They both plugged their noses and backed away.
“Fish? Who leaves fish in a cooler in the back of a truck”, Dad gagged. Joe then looked up, seemingly in excitement and ran towards the cooler. He stuck his nose in the cooler and pulled out a pike. He plopped it on the road, his foot stepped on the fish and put his mouth onto it, tearing a piece of it and swallowing it. “At least somebody likes rotten fish”, Dad rasped.
As we looked in surprise, we could hear something from the school. The minute we heard it, a loud boar-like roar came out from the school. We thought it was a very big boar when it came out, but the more we looked, the more we realised it was something else. Its body is like a boar, but its face is like a lion’s and the snout of a camel, with teeth somewhat like a bear’s when it opens its enormous mouth to gargle like a pig. Mom, Dad and even Joe are taken by surprise, making our parents run towards the driveway, while Joe towards our truck with his gorged fish, standing by us. The boar-thing then stopped a few feet away from my parents, seemingly in a defensive stance, hooves scratching the ground. We are scared for our parents, preparing to see this thing rip them to shreds.
It gave one last roar and walked towards the cooler, knocking it over with fish spilling out. It stuck its snout in the fish and swallowed one down. They then slowly walked around the creature and steadily fastened their pace until they were at the truck. We all quickly got in and Dad backed up quickly.
“What the hell was that”, Mom panicked.
“I don’t know, a pig from hell”, Dad responded. We looked at Joe, swallowing down the fish while the rotting fish smell remained. It looked at us in confusion, as we were. We silently laughed for no apparent reason, probably as a mechanism to try to replace the fear. We then heard a shaking in the truck, startling us. We realised that the hell pig was tearing at the bumper of the truck like a lion would. Dad hammered the horn, making the thing back up in surprise. Dad took this opportunity to back up very quickly towards the intersection and turned to the left, quickly avoiding the creature. We sat in silence, except for Joe who was chirping.
When we went down the street, the houses, as usual, were damaged but we saw other vehicles, the first we had seen. Some were parked along the street, others stuck on one lane like city traffic but paused. Weirdly enough, there are no people in the vehicles, nor anyone outside. Most of the vehicles have one or more doors open like people got out to go somewhere. We drove past all the vehicles in the other lane. There is one vehicle we passed by that is on fire, most of the paint already off to reveal the metal beneath, only to be turned into a rainbow of browns and blacks by the dancing flames.
“What. Happened. Here”, Mom slowly asked, as confused and terrified as us. We had a feeling of dread, seeing all the abandoned vehicles.
“That’s the least of our worries. We should be looking for supplies”, Dad responded.
“Hey, how much do we have”, Mom asked Dad, worried about using up the fuel.
“Well, we got a full tank of gas and travelled a hundred kilometers”, Dad responded, more confused. “Nothing makes sense here and I hope we don’t stay here for long”, he muttered.
Eventually, we passed most of the vehicles and reached the veterinary clinic. The small, intact structure stood there, seemingly looking over the icy driveway. We then spotted an old, brown truck and we saw something that set it apart from the rest of the vehicles we’ve seen so far.
“It’s on”, I said, gleefully, with hope that, at least, we aren’t the only ones here. The headlights beamed brightly, and we realised it was getting dark. We also noticed that the street lights aren’t turning on.
“I thought there was no one here”, my Mom said, unsure of the connection between the abandoned but running truck and the lack of people in this town. At one of the intact houses, ahead of us, partially blocked by the trees, we saw what seemed to be bright light coming from one of the windows. What person would go into a house after an earthquake, I thought, thinking about our house back home.
“Someone’s here”, Matt loudly notified, as we all shushed him and that is when Joe is trying to push the door with his snout. “What is he doing?”
“Stay here”, Dad calmly ordered, opening the door, but Joe scurried out and went somewhere else.
“Hey, come back”, Matt called out, with no success. Joe eventually disappeared into the night, never to be seen. Matt then had tears welling up in his eyes like he was about to cry. I hugged him to comfort him.
“He’ll come back some time”, Mom reassured, trying to calm him down and looking at Dad. Dad nodded and grabbed a flashlight that was equipped in the truck. He then walked slowly towards the house, step by step, being shone by our truck’s headlights. He looked back at us and put his hand up when the light in the house moved. It seems to move towards the front door of the house. Emerging from the house is a person walking down the steps, cloaked in darkness. Dad then took a few steps back as the figure came. Finally, the figure stepped into the light.

First Previous
Dr. Dask caught herself lost in thought for what was not the first time that day. The humans were definitely up to something. She paced around her room on the outer-rim of the Lunar facility - built after the previous orbital station was deemed irredeemably outdated by modern standards.
If she’d learned anything in her 20 Earth years studying the people on the blue planet, it’s that they didn’t seem to go without a major war for very long. There were, of course, smaller conflicts and skirmishes all across the planet, as had become routine, but this extended ‘peace’, which had lasted her whole career by this point, must have meant something was off.
Some of her xenosociologist peers theorized that the humans must have, at last, realized how pointless their model of constant bloodbath is, and adopted the ‘civilized’ model of war, as indicated by the increase in their industrial capacities as well as the strengthening of their militaries despite the times of peace. Surely, her fellow scientists argued, this meant that the weapons are starting to be used as a tool of intimidation, rather than destruction and death.
The scientist thought the idea of a “civilized model of war” stupid and inherently contradictory, alas, those assertions were not the main issue she had with their theory. If humans did have a sudden realisation about the horrors they were committing on a daily basis, why were there still so many conflicts all around the world?
Not only that, but the weapons they were testing didn’t seem to be for the sole purpose of shock and awe. Of particular note was when she caught a glimpse of an artillery gun, a weapon designed to launch high-speed projectiles upwards and relying on the planet’s high gravity to bring them down into enemy lines, launching what seemed to be a regular projectile, until it fell on the ground and, rather than exploding, released a large amount of yellow-brownish gas, which surely couldn’t scare the most cowardly of Bannids, let alone a human. She did not know what the purpose of it was, but it definitely unsettled her.
Regardless, almost all of their developments seemed to be about killing each other, but better, and even the most impractical of technologies, namely “zeppelins”, as the humans called the hulking, and very flammable, masses floating above their cities, were being weaponized in one way or the other, for a purpose still shrouded in Dr. Dask’s eyes.
“Ms. Dask?” asked a meek voice, entering her room as she was still pacing around, deep in thought, “The scientists currently stationed at the observatory seem to think large amounts of troops are mobilizing, ma’am, you may want to see this.”
That pulled the scientist right out of her mental state, and heading to the observatory as fast as she could walk before it would be considered a full-blown run. “Thank you, Reylek” she said, directed at the Junior Scientist that was struggling to keep up behind her “This may be the answer I’ve been seeking for so long, we may find what they’ve been doing for all these years” she said, finally finding herself in the confines of the observatory room.
The researcher tried to keep her excitement in check. Whatever was happening, she thought, would definitely involve the deaths of thousands of sapients, as was so terribly common when human militaries got involved with something. She watched, in unabashed curiosity, as armies made of tens of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of humans marched across the land, wielding the deadliest and most advanced weapons they had so far been able to grasp.
This was, by far, the largest armies she had ever seen. There were records of larger ones being deployed, sure, but being able to personally witness the sheer scale of such a war was truly astounding. They were still only in the mobilization phase, however, and as such the Dr. furiously took some notes and headed to the cafeteria for dinner, which had an extravagant window giving a beautiful view of Earth. The decommissioned space station also had one, and, when the new Lunar base was inaugurated, the older scientists felt quite salty about losing their favourite lookout spot and demanded that a new one be built.
By the end of the month (human calendar), however, her cautioned curiosity had already been turned into sheer terror. Fighting had broken out all across the world, the brutality of the newly developed weapons unmatched by anything she or any of her older colleagues had ever witnessed. Some of the proponents of the human enlightenment theory had locked themselves in their rooms, not being able to bear the sorrow of knowing that they could not have been any more wrong if they tried.
This continued on for untold days and weeks, casualties piling up on every side of the conflict, both soldier and civilian, in enough numbers to collapse any reasonable alien society. The humans, however, fought on, seemingly unphased.
After a few months, as the fighting still raged on from the thickest of jungles to the hottest of deserts, the main front, in the continent containing the nations who first started the war, seemed to come to a standstill. Dask, now significantly more disheveled than she was those sweet months ago before such a massively important event broke out, felt a glimmer of hope. Surely this stalemate would mean the beginning of negotiations, and a possible end to what could only be described as the worst conflict anyone in the outpost had ever witnessed.
The scientist and her colleagues were watching as both sides dug long, sinuous corridors across a field. This, she thought, would force them into peace. No army, not even a human one, would want to get stuck in such an unwinnable situation, where neither side can reliably attack each other without catastrophic losses on both sides.
The group gawked. Some of the humans along the battlefield had suddenly stopped fighting, even climbing into disputed territory, seemingly mingling with those who were their enemies just a few hours prior. This was, as Dask noted, shocked, probably the most human behaviour she’d ever seen. From a senseless bloodbath to camaraderie and care almost instantly. It further fueled her hopes of a peaceful resolution in the end, as clearly such a display of friendship together with the hopelessness of their military positions would be enough to make both sides come to their senses.
Later reports would note that this truce may have had something to do with the end of the Solar year, an occasion celebrated by nearly all humans for as far as Commonwealth records go. The armistice, though, did not last long. By the next day it may as well have never happened, much to the chagrin of the researchers, still hanging onto the slim hope that this would end soon, if not by collaboration then by hopelessness alone.
That, however, was not the case. It had been roughly 5 (human calendar) months since the seemingly random act of peace. Hundreds of thousands more had died, and at this point Dask believed the humans couldn’t actually grasp the scale of what they were doing, especially given how mysterious the actual reasons for the war still were to her. What unfathomable offense had been made for it to spark such slaughter? She did not have the answers, all she knew is that the humans did not seem at all inclined to back down.
By this point, their weapons were only one of the many sources of death and sorrow in this war. Disease ran rampant, with no proper medical facilities on the frontlines, and a lack of supplies meant that several thousands simply starved to death, not a single bullet needing to be fired to cause their demise.
The mood on the research team was somber. The war had been dragging on, and Dr. Dask wondered just how many sleepless nights were yet to come, for she couldn’t truly rest while such terrible acts were taking place so close by. The silver lining, if you could call it that, is that she’d grown somewhat jaded to human warfare, and it did not make her as nauseated as it should, and as it did in the past. Until the shells hit.
As Dask watched, projectiles came down from the sky on a human trench, though, unlike the explosions she’d grown accustomed to, they simply released large amounts of a brownish-yellow gas, which she remembered seeing all those months ago, being tested. Once it dissipated enough to see through, she understood its true purpose, and immediately wished she hadn't. Hundreds of humans, twitching, coughing, vomiting, their skins burnt despite the absence of fire, some of them eerily still, choked out by the gas that had displaced the air on the long dirt corridors.
She stared, in shock, as the other side began charging, putting on masks that deprived them of all human features and walking into the dying lines, immune to the effects of the deadly gas. They mercilessly killed anyone and everyone wearing the wrong uniform, even those already on the floor. She thought about that in contrast to that serene night in which they mingled, it was hardly believable that they were of the same species, let alone the same people altogether.
Vomit filled the observatory. The other researchers, like Dr. Dask herself, thought they were used to human antics at this point, but their ingenuity when it comes to cruelty once again proved to be unrivaled. Most others left the room, leaving the dirty work to the cleaning bots. The Dr. did not vomit, if for no other reason than that she had not yet eaten, and as such physically could not do so. She also returned to her room, no longer feeling even the remotest scientific curiosity to watch such a terrible event unfold.
Over the next several years. The war dragged on and on, mountains upon mountains of bodies piling up,the count in the millions by now, civilians included. The clothes were stripped from the dead, washed anew and given to a young, excited recruit, just for them to meet the same fate, and repeat the cycle once more. Morale among the researchers was at an all time low, many choosing to no longer accompany the fighting as closely, and some retiring from the facility entirely.
The humans, of course, did not care much for the emotions of aliens they didn’t even know the existence of, and as such only got more and more creative with their machinations, from flying machines strapped with bombs and guns, to a brand new vehicle named the “tank”, which was, by all means, a marvel of engineering for their civilization, albeit prone to constant breakdowns. All that to fuel a war which Dr. Dask was still unsure as to the cause.
Dr. Dask herself, albeit far worse-for-wear than she had been before this, kept going. While the overwhelming cruelty was evident, she could not simply ignore the random glimmers offered by the various and random acts of kindness she had seen across the war. From the truce on that night, to a random soldier helping an injured enemy combatant, to humans risking their own life and walking into the line of fire to rescue their comrades.
That’s why, when the day of the Armistice finally came, she was one of the few left from the original team still there to witness it, and, as soldiers disbanded and went home, she could only look across the cafeteria window and into the blue marble above, wondering if this troubled species could ever truly achieve peace and step into the galactic stage as new allies, rather than pariahs.

Author's Note: The masses have once again spoken. I hope you don't mind a slightly more well informed perspective this time, as I can only come up with so many excuses to force an unwitting alien to witness the horrors of war. Definitely a more somber chapter too, which I find rather appropriate for WWI. Once again this turned far larger than I originally intended and I do apologise to those who wanted a detailed, more entertaining reaction to tanks and such, though I felt like it simply would not fit properly into this particular narrative. Finally, feedback and corrections for random inaccuracies are welcome as always. Enjoy!

Hotd helaena x male oc
He's the secret son of daemon targaryen larra stark the aunt of cregan stark he's the future lord of winterfell , He also Doesn't know his dad
He is sent as a ward to kings where he mostly keeps an eye on aemond he's his best friend BTW
He gets his left eye slashed by baela it's only a scar tho so its cool it's OK this in the Driftmark incident nightBTW he also claimed the cannibal except he's let by viserys to keep it
He is viserys second favorite child cause he's not problematic like aegon and aemond, and daemon says anyone who hangs out with otto hightower spawn is no son of mine renouncing him as his son, team green now has one extra dragon added to it's arsenal, oh his name is Damion, he also hangs out with helaena sometimes,
And here's the timeskip, him and helaena they do stuff in private.... moving on, in the aemond training scene Damion is also there training , he's also there during the Driftmark succession dispute. In the final dinner scene, during aemond strong speech, Damion is the only one not causing trouble, he's secretly holding helaena hand under the table, she only likes his touch
He's also there while they're trying to find aegon
During the coronation Damion is the only one to stare rheanys in the face, and rheanys gives him a a nod of respect
At the negotiation at dragonstone, Damion says that they're lucky and he considered making them the new harrenhall, slow pan shot of the cannibal flying and landing in the ground, with a loud roar
And daemon is like maybe this is my son while
Damion slowly walks off
So what shoud his personality be

06 limited v8. Plan on adding a coastal rear bumper with tire holder, and maybe the Jerry can holder as well as one of the auxiliary fuel tanks in the spare well(forget the name). Accounting for the mass difference of a 33” AT tire compared to the stock spare, the fuel tank and fuel, bumper and two Jerry water cans on the back, I’m looking at adding at least a few hundred lbs back there potentially. Plan on going 5100s front and rear, and was going to go OME 885 front and 895 rear but wondering if I should go to a stiffer rear spring. Thanks!

Platform(s): PC
Genre: RTS (or something with multiple unit control)
Estimated year of release: This one is complicated. I think I played it mid 90's, but im pretty sure i found this game on one of those old CDs that came bundled with magazines, filled with demos, shareware, and maybe some full game from a small or in-house studio. So maybe the game is actually older than when I played it. My familiy used to buy "OK PC" and "OK PC GAMER" (Spain edition) back in the day, so maybe it could be found in some cd there.
Graphics/art style: I remember vivid, oversaturated flat colors, so I think it coul be VGA graphics, but i'm not really sure. Think a vast field of green, kind of like the original SimCity, but with less detail. I also remember there being small, polygonal units, but they could have been just sprites or pre-rendered. I belive the game/demo/match started with a splash screen where you chose your faction by clicking on one of ... six? eight? different color coded "flags" (squares with the symbol of the faction, like a clan or something). Everything was rether plain, without much detail (so nothing like Warcraft 1). The game was sci-fi and futuristic, and I distintly remember there being tanks and mostly....
Notable characters: some sort of bi-pedal mech walker. Think an AT-ST, but instead of a box its body was a cylinder. It had a tip that shoot fine lasers. Laser where a distinct line. And I've been hunting this sucker for the last years.
Notable gameplay mechanics: I don't really remember the gameplay specifics, but I do recall "discovering" that all factions had the same units, only they unlocked them at different stages/speeds. So, for example, i believe that the yellow faction had the easiest access to the bipedal mechs, whereas the red faction had an easier access to tanks. (Notice that I say "access" because maybe each faction started with a preassembled army, I sadly don't remember well)
Other details: It is definetly not a widely known or cult game, and I've never seen it mentioned in any retrospective or top list or anything, so we can exclude all the heavy hitters. I also remember thinking, even back then, that the name sounded rather silly. Some made up word like "Xaxon", "Zargon", something like that. But do have in mind that (1) english isn't my native language, so maybe it was a standard name and I just didn't know the word, and (2) all this happened a long time ago, so I may be remebering this (or other deatils) wrong >.<
Thanks in advance for just for reading all this! xD

In my youth, a few decades ago, I met an only boy a few years older than me, in his early twenties named Tyler at a coffee shop. He drove a blue wrangler and was smoking cigarettes in the village with a friend at the only coffee shop in the early foggy morning. I think I may have bummed a cigarette on my way out the door with my americano and began to make conversation. Tyler had just drove from Seattle and boasted of his time back to get his friend home to Carmel Valley. We started talking about music, my favorite band was Modest Mouse. His was some one I’ve never heard of. He was very cool. Plump but cool. He’s seen modest mouse on the Lonesome Crouded West tour. Brock drank whiskey out of a plastic water bottle. Rebel. Then he told me another story.
Tyler had gotten busted for something illegal which I’ve forgotten now, but had gone before a judge and sentenced to a lot of community service. More than 100 hours. I don’t remember what it was but it wasn’t anything serious. More like what a normal adolescent who was unlucky enough to get caught was issued. At the time he lived just north of San Francisco and was given options to what his services would be. Tyler chose trail maintenance. Tyler worked for weeks. It was summer and was home with his parents waking up at dawn, grabbing breakfast and lunch at the local Safeway before heading to the hills to clear trails for 10 hours. Going home exhausted.
One morning Tyler saw an old man outside the grocery store, looking very tired. It was close to 5am. He approached the old man and offered to buy him a sandwich. The old man said he would very much like a sandwich. Returning with the food the old man asked what Tyler was doing that morning and Tyler explained that he was maintaining a broken trail that was high in the mountains close by. The old man seemed interested in this answer and offered to help for another sandwich and some beer to which Tyler obliged even though alcohol was a violation of parole. But Tyler was a rebel and wasn’t directly supervised once on the trail he was working, so he got another sandwich and a few tall cans and rode away with the old man to the hills.
Tyler told me the old man took direction well and ran off with a few tools and worked all day. He made sure the man had done what he asked throughout the day and was pleasantly surprised to see he was a good worker. They took lunch, drank their beers, worked for a few more hours and at the end of the day, the two hiked back to the blue Jeep Wrangler and headed back.
Tyler asked the old man direction to where this seeming homeless man wanted to be dropped off. Expecting a bridge or over pass. The old man didn’t give an address but immediate signals, left here, right here, straight here. The house style was passing slowly got bigger. Gates more decorative. The cars that passed were nicer.
“This guy must have a nice camping spot” Tyler told me. His suspicion never alerting.
The old man pulled up to a gate with a touch pad. Pretty fancy in 2000. The old man pressed the code. The gate opened.
A long driveway. A big house in trees. The mad shows Tyler into his house. Tyler is astonished. It beautiful. The old man leads Tyler into a library, there are gold records on the wall. He studies a few and the old man gets settled, fiddling with things. Bits and bops.
All the records say: Tom Waits
Tyler looks at the man. The man stairs back with a smile as he opens a floor to ceiling cabinet full of liquor bottles.
“I hope you like whiskey” he says with a smile.
Tyler expresses that before this day he had listened to Tom waits but hadn’t seen or noticed a picture or the man. His recollection of the night that fallowed was also hazy. Or he didn’t think my reaction was merit enough to continue the story. He slept on the couch in the study and woke up at dawn to go work trails.
I never saw Tyler again.
Are there more stories like this out there?

Hotd helaena x male oc
He's the secret son of daemon targaryen larra stark the aunt of cregan stark he's the future lord of winterfell , He also Doesn't know his dad
He is sent as a ward to kings where he mostly keeps an eye on aemond he's his best friend BTW
He gets his left eye slashed by baela it's only a scar tho so its cool it's OK this in the Driftmark incident nightBTW he also claimed the cannibal except he's let by viserys to keep it
He is viserys second favorite child cause he's not problematic like aegon and aemond, and daemon says anyone who hangs out with otto hightower spawn is no son of mine renouncing him as his son, team green now has one extra dragon added to it's arsenal, oh his name is Damion, he also hangs out with helaena sometimes,
And here's the timeskip, him and helaena they do stuff in private.... moving on, in the aemond training scene Damion is also there training , he's also there during the Driftmark succession dispute. In the final dinner scene, during aemond strong speech, Damion is the only one not causing trouble, he's secretly holding helaena hand under the table, she only likes his touch
He's also there while they're trying to find aegon
During the coronation Damion is the only one to stare rheanys in the face, and rheanys gives him a a nod of respect
At the negotiation at dragonstone, Damion says that they're lucky and he considered making them the new harrenhall, slow pan shot of the cannibal flying and landing in the ground, with a loud roar
And daemon is like maybe this is my son while
Damion slowly walks off
So what shoud his personality be

My name is Nathaniel, 32, gay, he/him and I am looking to DM some Dungeons & Dragons. I have DMed one campaign before which lasted about 10 months and I ended it because I wanted to focus on other endeavors. I have caught the DM itch again and am hoping to play with some fellow queer people as I feel I am very cut off from the community. I emphasize roleplay, strong character choices, rule of cool, and adore interesting mechanics in combat. The world is homebrew and based around fairy tales/folklore/mythology and it is a world I am trying to flesh out more using D&D so I can write novels in it. My goal is for it to be a Fairy Tale-esque One Piece, if that makes sense. I am not a super experienced dm yet eagerly welcome players of all experience levels to my table as long as they have a good attitude. The campaign will probably start mid-July as I have no idea what I am doing and I am moving in the beginning of that month to a new place. So, hit me up and we can talk and maybe get something going.

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