The next few hours were the happiest of Annabeth‘s life.
She and Percy sat next to each other, close. “I’m never going to make this easy for you, Seaweed Brain. Get used to it.” Percy leaned in so close Annabeth felt like the ocean wind was caressing her cheek. As he kissed her with those salty, beautiful lips, a voice from the bush screamed. “FINALLY!!!” Lily yelled, bursting out from the bush along with the rest of the campers. She, Grover, and Clarisse led the mob. “Lily-what?” Percy said confusedly. Lily squealed. “Dude, this has been my OTP for, like, 5 years! Ever since I saw you two in the underworld, I knew you’d be perfect for each other! All of us have been waiting so long for you two finally kiss, and here we are!“ Lily said triumphantly. Two and a half minutes later, Percy and Annabeth were being carried towards the canoe lake. “Seriously?” He said, looking down at Lily. “You know I can breathe underwater, right?” He whispered. “Yeah. Why do you think I gave Clarisse the idea, bozo?” She muttered under her breath. Percy grinned gratefully. He didn’t even mind when the two of them were chucked in the warm water. However, he also noticed a ten dollar bill float down to one of the nereids, and he could’ve sworn he‘d seen Grover slip it into the lake.
Weeks later, Lily had left camp to “get help” to build all the new cabins. She wasn’t expected back for the next few weeks, a month at least. One day, during the construction, a dark hooded stranger strolled up to camp. The apollo campers noticed, and shouted for Percy. The stranger was followed by an army of ancient skeletons. “Soldiers of Kronos. They’re back for revenge.” Percy murmured to Will Solace as he prepped his siblings, the archers, to launch their arrows. Will looked at Percy worriedly. “You don’t think it could be Lily, back with her help?” Will asked. Percy frowned. “No. Not even Lily could summon that many. It would kill her.Just as the arrows launched the stranger raised their hands. The arrows rose higher and higher into the air, before exploding into daisies. All oldest campers dropped their weapons and ran down the valley. Will Solace dropped his medkit, Annabeth left her dagger, and even Clarisse La Rue dropped her spear and walked away. “What…?” Percy murmured. He ran down the hill, sword drawn, and brought it to meet the cloaked figured’s drawn blade. They whirled and partied with ease. They knocked Percy’s sword to the floor, landed a boot flat in his chest which sent him flying to the ground, and pressed their sword to his throat. They slowly lowered their hood to reveal wavy hair tied back in a ponytail, and shocking bright green eyes. Percy took his twin‘s extended hand and she pulled him to his feet. “Not bad, Percy.” She grinned. Percy gaped at the giant army behind her. “Lily-how..” Lily glanced behind her and laughed softly. She sheathed her blade, back in dagger form, and said “Well, my father suddenly seemed very interested in helping the camp when I told him he’d be getting his own cabin. To be honest, we should’ve had more cabins before this. So good on you, Percy.” Percy felt his face flush bright pink. He shrugged awkwardly. “We’ll, y’know, just doing whats right.” He said. Lily grinned, and together with Annabeth and Will, they climbed the peak of Half Blood Hill. “Race you to the bottom!“ Lily yelled, lied down, and rolled down the hill. The others followed until they all lay panting at the bottom of the hill. “I love you, Wise Girl.” Percy whispered in Annabeth’s ear. “I love you too, Seaweed Brain.” She said quietly, and kissed him.

Credit to Blue for the wonderful cover art of Trilvri
Thank you to:
u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the Nature of Predators universe.
u/EdibleGojid, author of Dark Cuts, for proofreading.
EmClear, aspiring author, for proofreading
You, the reader, for your support. I love reading your comments.
Please consider reading the works of my proofreaders as they’re all authors of excellent stories and be sure to check the links below for more of my work and beautiful art from members of the community.
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Memory transcription subject: Sawvek, Junior Extermination Officer
Date [standardised human time]: October 5th, 2136
Hard foam presses uncomfortably up against delicate pressure points situated across the length of my entire body, building up to an unbearable ache that makes me shift and turn against the thin mattress pad. I yank at the rough old blanket I’d taken out of storage and clutch it even tighter around my body, trying to keep out the chill. The best racks, the ones near the heating vents, had already been claimed long before I’d decided to move into the Guild House’s Barracks and it doesn’t seem likely that the current occupants will be giving up their spots any time soon.
My mind is still racing from the events of last paw, replaying the scene over and over again in my dreams and in my head. The way my brother had looked at me… That look on his face when he’d seen the real me…
My paw gives a sympathetic throb in memory, still aching from where it had met the wall, but at least I had been able to wrap it up a bit and stop the bleeding. I feel like I should take it as a small miracle that it isn't broken. More medical bills are the last thing I need right now.
I turn about in the bunk once more, rolling around in vain to try and find a comfortable position that doesn’t seem to exist. Through a conscious act of will I try to empty my mind and sleep, but the very act of trying not to think about things only brings them bubbling back up to the surface of my thoughts. My heartbeat echoes in my ears, a damnable drumming sound brought about by the exertion of my own restless tossing and turning. Out in the hallway I can hear the muffled shuffling of feet and murmurs of conversation. The Guild Hall never sleeps, and it seems that neither would I this paw.
Electing to abandon the attempt as hopeless, I cut my rest claw short and get up, venturing out into the hallway. If I can’t sleep anyway then I might as well start my waking claw early, maybe get in a little exercise. It’s not so bad when it’s self-directed, almost fun in a way. If our family had the money to support it then maybe I could have been an athlete of some variety growing up. I had always possessed something of a natural physicality.
“Stop wasting time with worthless questions about what could have been, Killer.” The voice interjects, early and active today by the sound of it. “You’ll never amount to anything more than a wild predator kept on a leash.”
There’s nothing to do but sigh and carry on. It was right after all. This is it. This is my life now.
Making my way down the hallway towards the gym I find myself walking past a row of private offices assigned to some of the more veteran officers on staff. Most are empty at this claw, their occupants either asleep or off doing other work. One room in particular catches my attention though, the one belonging to our newest PRED Team Commander.
The door leading inside is open and ajar, seemingly forgotten in the midst of more pressing business and granting me a look inside. The entire room is a mess, papers and binders strewn about everywhere with official looking documents littering the floor. A map of the city decorates the otherwise unadorned and impersonal space. On its face it hosts a variety of multicoloured pins, all connecting seemingly arbitrary locations as well as photographs of people and places from the records department. The face of the former PRED Team Commander, Vrienna, looks out at me once again with the same cruel eyes that decorate the memorial wall. Beside her photo are another pair of eyes, a pair I recognise, but not one I would have expected to see here.
Trilvri, my brother’s creepy coworker, the one who’d brought him home the night he’d drunk himself into a stupor, stares out at me from the wall. He was younger in this photo, barely of age, if even that, and dressed in a regulation space corps flight suit, but I could still recognise him. Trilvri’s eyes appear somehow more lively than when I had met him in person, though it does nothing to improve his overall disposition, looking, as they are, as if behind them resides only hatred and a feral desire to kill and rend. Come to think of it, he had mentioned he used to be in the corps hadn’t he? ‘Used to’ being the operative word. When I’d asked he hadn’t seemed particularly fond of his time in the service…
Situated as he is next to Vrienna like that, their pitch-black wool and evil-looking eyes bear a striking resemblance. It was the exact same sort of predatory expression that bore into your soul, the kind that made me feel weak and exposed, the same kind that was worn by-
“What do you think you’re doing in my office?” A voice asks from behind, nonplussed, but with a casual depth of power and authority behind it that makes me freeze on the spot.
“Commander Glagrig, Sir!” I turn about on the spot, fixed at attention in the doorway as I stare up at the man himself. “I’m sorry to intrude. I noticed someone had forgotten to close the door so I was just going to secure it.”
“I see.” Glagrig doesn’t seem to believe a word of it, but neither does he seem inclined to press the issue. “At ease. Tell me, do you recognise the man in the photo there? Have you ever seen him before?”
“No, Commander.” I lie reflexively as I shift to a parade rest, not fully knowing why, but knowing that whatever is going on I want no part of it, for me or my brother. It’s only after the fact that it occurs to me that lying might be worse than telling the truth.
“How… regrettable.” The prestige officer says plainly and I can’t tell whether he believes me or not. “If you do ever catch sight of this individual, then be sure to let me know immediately.”
“Y-Yes, Commander.” I subconsciously swallow with apprehension, hoping that he doesn’t notice. I want nothing more than to run away as quickly as I can, but I haven’t been dismissed yet.
“Junior Officer Sawvek, was it?” Glagrig carries on, looking me up and down, dissecting me with his eyes. “You have quite the interesting record on file and Officer Intalran is quite adamant about your potential. Your simulator results speak for themselves, even if they are just simulations.”
“Thank you, Commander.” I can feel myself growing dizzy as I answer with uncertainty.
“Don’t thank me,” the all-consuming void in front of me replies with no hint of warmth, “just remember that your performance is under evaluation. It’s in my interests to keep note of promising young aspirants who might someday join my team, and I would hate to see you squander your talents.”
“I-I understand, Commander.” I flick my tail in agreement, straining not to look away towards the floor.
“Dismissed.” Glagrig brushes past me as he enters his office, moving to shut the door behind himself.
“Um, Commander?” I ask just before the door shuts, feeling a beckoning call of curiosity that even the predatory prestige exterminator couldn’t crush. “If you don’t mind me asking… Why do you have all that stuff up on the wall there?”
The door opens again, just a crack, and I can feel my superiors' weighty presence bearing down on me, almost suffocating in its intensity. “It’s simply a personal matter. I have reason to believe that the prior investigation regarding the kelach incident was conducted according to… insufficient standards. The predator responsible was never found and I intend to remedy that deficiency.”
“How hard could it be to find a kelach?” I tilt my ears in confusion. “They're huge!”
“Despite initial reports,” he answers with an ominous, cold tone that sends a chill up my spine, “it may be possible that we're dealing with something far more dangerous than just a kelach.”
“T-Thank you, Commander.” I flick my tail in appreciation and the door closes.
I breathe a sigh of relief as the malevolent aura recedes. That was too close.
“And you’re a complete moron going back to ask him more questions afterwards, Killer.” The voice rises with amusement. “What? Do you want him to figure you out and turn you to cinders? Only a matter of time, Killer.”
“Ugh, shut up.” I mutter under my breath, quickly turning back around to make sure Commander Glagrig didn’t hear me, but when no reprisal comes I quickly depart. If I’m gonna be stupid I should at least try not to do so right in front of his office.
As the imminent threat of our in-house prestige exterminator dwindles so too does the energy driven by the adrenaline of the encounter. It figures that the moment I roll out of bed I want to take a nap again, but I know the moment I lie back down I’ll be back to full wakefulness in an instant. That’s just how that sort of thing works. With that in mind there’s really only one solution, a big, steaming hot cup of tea.
Making my way towards the tea machine I spot Jonsco, the feisty little primitive that mans our dispatch centre, smacking the top of the dispenser with a clenched paw while holding a mug underneath it.
“Is the tea machine fixed?” I ask as I pull out a mug from the cabinet myself.
Jonsco sighs heavily and shoots me a combative glare. “For the last time it’s not my brahking job to fix this damn tea machine! You got a problem with that then you can go pester someone else about it!”
I shrink back under the harsh rebuke. Jonsco may be small, but there was as much rage and fury condensed into that little package as anyone else in this department. Maybe more.
“I… I didn’t mean to imply…I just wanted to know if it was working again or not… Sorry.” I sputter out, feeling properly admonished as I look away towards the ground.
Jonsco looks at me quizzically, his hard glare softening somewhat as he seems to truly see me for the first time before returning to his usual scowl.
“Right…Whatever you say…” With one final smack the machine coughs and chokes, sputtering to life with a struggle, and a small trickle of freshly brewed tea begins to fill Jonsco’s cup. “The machine is on the fritz again as usual, but if you hit it just right, do a little percussive maintenance, then you can get it started again.”
“Thanks, Jonsco.” I lean back against the wall and watch as the mug slowly fills, impressed by the primitives know-how. “That's actually pretty smart of you.”
“For a ‘primitive’ right?” The words are barbed and spiteful, but lack his typical enthusiasm, more of a simple statement of fact than a real question. I couldn't exactly deny it, those had been my thoughts, and so the silence drags on awkwardly, marked only by the splash of tea falling into the steadily rising pool.
“What are you doing here at this claw anyway?” I eventually ask, dodging the question entirely. “We’ve still got at least another half-claw until our crew's shift is supposed to start.”
“I could ask you the same thing, you know?” The angry little dispatch operator retorts. “I'm here early working an overtime shift so I can afford to put food on my family's table. It's expensive feeding that many mouths. What's your excuse?”
“I had a fight with my brother…” I rub the back of my neck as I turn away abashedly, “moved out of the apartment and into the barracks full time… couldn't sleep…”
“Well then you should hurry up and work on patching things up with him.” Jonsco looks at me with an uncharacteristic hint of sympathy in his eyes. “Your family are the only ones who might actually care. This Gods-damned place is a slyther’s nest and no one here gives a speh about you or your problems. If you want my advice, you should do your best to spend as little time in this cesspool as possible.”
With his cup now full, Jobsco steps back from the machine and begins walking out towards the main hall.
“Thanks, Jonsco.” My words stop him in his tracks as he walks away from me. “I appreciate it.”
“... You're welcome.” He says after a short pause, glancing back to look at me one more time before leaving. “See you around, Sawvek.”
Taking advantage of the tea machine while it’s still mostly working, I fill up my own cup and drink deeply of the warm, fragrant beverage. The taste is bitter and unpleasant, just about the quality I would expect of this Guild Hall, but even at the first taste it’s evident that it’s been loaded with an extra strength dose of caffeine. I down the drink quickly and rinse out the cup before continuing on my journey towards the training hall. Fatigue begins to fall away as I walk, bit by bit as the drug makes its way into my bloodstream, blocking off sleep receptors and energising me. I know I’ll probably pay for it later, no amount of caffeine can actually replace sleep, but for now it feels good and I can see how some people can get addicted to the stuff.
A loud, metallic clanging emanates from the gym as I approach, something unexpected for this time of paw. No one's reserved space in the gym for this claw and not many people are industrious enough to sweat on their own initiative. Peeking my head inside the door I spy Bikim, the perfect, privileged, ‘holier than thou’ brahkass occupying the otherwise empty weight room. His irritatingly handsome face is taut with strain as he performs a series of weighted squats, his back and leg muscles straining underneath his short-cropped wool, and he pants heavily under the exertion.
I’m half tempted just to leave and go back to bed despite the fact that there’s no way I’d be getting any sleep with the tea running through my system. It’s too early in the paw to deal with Bikim’s speh. Before I can slip away unnoticed though, he spots me. I give a heavy sigh and continue my way inside. There's nothing to be done for it now. Trying to back out now would only make things worse later, a sign of weakness.
“What… Do you want… Predator?” Bikim asks between gulps of air as he reracks his weights, practically hanging off the bar to support himself on shaky legs.
“Good paw to you too, Bikim.” I say, forcing civility into my tone. “I’m here to use the equipment. Same as you. I'm allowed.”
“Whatever…” He eyes me with suspicion. “Just keep your distance… I don't want to catch any of your taint.”
“Believe me,” I flick my tail out in irritation, “I intend to.”
Looking around the room for available spots, I march my way over towards a cable machine on the opposite side of the room. Not nearly as far from Bikim as I would like, but the farthest I can get without leaving the weight area entirely. Bikim watches me all the while as I seat myself down and begin adjusting the machine. Eventually he grows tired of watching me fumble around with the machine and returns to his own exercises with a displeased flick of the tail, quite obviously judging me for my lack of experience with the equipment.
A tense sort of quiet settles over the room as we each go about our business, trying our best to ignore one another. Bikim slowly winds his way around the room, cycling from station to station to exercise all the different parts of his body in sequence before repeating it all again. He seems to bypass my corner of the room, glancing over at me with each repetition of his pattern. For myself, I stay put where I am, taking advantage of the varied exercises offered by the versatile machine to experiment with different muscle groups. Occasionally I slip up, dropping the weights with a loud clang that always draws Bikim’s ire. Every time he seems just a bit more disgruntled, a bit less patient. Eventually, the constant disruption reaches a tipping point and the pompous, self-entitled jerk walks over to confront me.
“Do you always do this?” He asks rhetorically. “If you keep slamming the weights like that you're gonna break it. Your form is speh so either fix it or lower the weight so you don't have to keep compensating. Better yet, just leave. You’ve been monopolising the cable machine for almost half a claw now. I don't know why you're even here in the first place.”
“Oh, look at Mr. Know-it-all thinking he can just go around telling us what to do, eh Killer?” The voice rises to the challenge. “Where does a guy like that who's been handed everything his whole life think he can get off with telling us how we should be doing anything?”
“Brahk off Bikim!” I don't even try to reign in the predator inside, feeling justified in letting it roam free for once. “I didn't ask for your advice and you don't get to kick me out of the weight room just because you can't wait your turn! I'm here because I don't have anywhere else to go! Ever since Intalran dragged me into this stupid Guild this brahking job has taken over my entire life! I don't even have a home to go back to anymore!”
Bikim's body tenses at my tirade and his tail flicks out aggressively like a whip.
“That's your own damn fault, predator!” He shouts back, eager for the excuse to vent his own frustrations. “Maybe if you weren't just some blood-starved beast out roaming the streets then you wouldn't be here right now! I’ve read your file! You got a history of herdless behaviour and physical altercations! Someone should have institutionalised you a long time ago, but someone took pity on you and let you slip through the cracks because of your poor dying mommy! They should have known it would come back to bite them! A normal, functional member of the herd wouldn't even think to pick a flamer up off the ground and burn another person to death with it! But you? You did it instinctively! You revelled in it!”
“You think that was easy for me!” I get up and walk towards him as I yell incredulously. “You think I asked for that to happen! You think it was fun for me to get choked out and almost eaten! That thing I burned wasn't even a person anymore! It was a predator in the middle of a feeding frenzy! So yeah, I did what I did, and you know what? It's a good thing I did! If I wasn't a freak of nature then that thing would have kept on going and kept on killing! Last I checked, preventing that sorta thing was supposed to be your job, but I had to be the one to step up! Now I have to live with the consequences of my actions every paw, knowing that I’m a Protector-damned killer that doesn't belong anywhere! Maybe you, in your infinite wisdom, would've known the perfect thing to do in that situation, but I’m not you! I’ve had to work and struggle for every little thing I have! Not just had it handed to me on a silver platter!”
“Oh, so you got me all figured out do you?” Sarcasm drips from Bikim's mouth as he looks down on me. “You don't know me. You don't know my life or what I’ve been through, how hard I’ve worked to get where I am. You just see the end product from cycles of effort and assume that it's always been that way, that it's always been that easy. It hasn't.”
“Yes, I’m sure you had it so hard growing up Bikim.” Saying it aloud almost makes me laugh. “You’re such a child of privilege that it drips off of you with every move you make and every word you say. I hate people like you, thinking that you're better than everyone else just because you were lucky enough to be born into wealth and status. Try living like the other side for a change, scrounging for every credit just so you can afford to eat, and then try to tell me how hard you had it with a full belly and a warm home!”
“You’re right, predator,” Bikim says contemptuously, “I am a child of privilege. My family has a long and decorated military tradition, my father is a captain for the space corps, a brahking hero, and I’ve reaped the benefits of that. That privilege came at a cost though, and that’s called expectations. Second best is not good enough and I've had to put in ten times the effort as anyone else my whole life just to meet standards! At least you grew up with a father who was there for you and loved you without the condition that everything you do is perfect!”
“All that talk about reading my file and you didn't even get past the first page did you?” I snap at him with a snarl. “ I didn't grow up with a father at all! He's been dead since I was in elementary school! Killed in action! I barely even remember him anymore!”
That one seems to give Bikim pause, but I’m not done yet.
“If you and your whole family are such a bunch of brahking heroes then how come you're here, working as a common garrison exterminator in a run-down backwater city like this?” I taunt. “Shouldn't you be out gallantly fighting the Arxur with one of the fleets or on a colony pacification force rather than making my life here harder than it already is?”
“That's the price for failing to meet expectations,” Bikim quiets down, drawing away from the world and into himself, “the price for knocking up a beautiful, wonderful girl right after graduation and refusing to get rid of it afterwards. You get cut off. You lose that privilege, and you do whatever you have to in order to provide and try to be a good role model for your son.”
Now that one threw me for a loop. In the short time I’ve known Bikim I’ve had a lot of thoughts about him, few of them good, but never would I have expected him to be the type to take responsibility… For anything. Still, there is one thing about his story that doesn't line up…
“Oh really?” I take a step back as I watch for his reaction closely. “I seem to recall Jonsco mentioned just the other day that your wife had left you for a Human.”
“Don't you bring that brahking primitive into this!” Bikim's anger flares in an instant before returning to a subtle simmer of regret. “We’ve just been having a… a rough patch in our relationship. I’m not giving up on us. I’ll win her back. She's just… confused and being taken advantage of! It's all that damn predators fault!” Bikim sighs and sits down on a nearby bench. “You're not the only one whose had something taken from them because of this job. You're not the only one without a home to go back to.”
Looking at Bikim now, a sad, pathetic man moping on the bench with nothing better to do on his rest claw than to try to externalise his inner pain… I find it hard to stay angry at him. He's still a narcissistic brahk ass and a complete jerk, but it's hard to truly hate someone when you actually know them. I had made quite a few assumptions about him when we first met, and he certainly hadn't helped my impression of him since, but… perhaps I was wrong to judge him so harshly?
“Nah,” the voice chortles, “he’s a piece of speh that got what he brahking deserves for being an insufferable prick.”
Overhead the intercom crackles to life and I can hear Jonsco's voice reverberating over the airwaves.
“Officers Vaesh and Sawvek please report to the briefing area for assignment. Repeat. Officers Vaesh and Sawvek please report to the briefing area for assignment.”
“Sounds like it's time for your first field assignment, Kid.” Bikim says, staring up at the intercom. “At least it gets you out of my wool. Try not to brahk it up and make the rest of us look bad.”
“Hmph.” I turn to leave, muttering to myself. “Stupid brahkass.”
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A/N - Hello! Sorry this one took a while. Like I mentioned before I got delayed working on my Ficnapping chapter as well as a crossover One-shot that's still in progress (but hopefully will be done soon). In other news we have new art of Sawvek's life-changing encounter in the Builder's Lane Bloodbath as drawn by Miglove and you can still find that and everything else Nature of Family in the new Master Post linked up above.
If you like the story then please remember to upvote, comment, and use the “!Subscribeme” function to be alerted to all new posts. I post as often as I can but real life has a tendency of getting in the way and my job makes it almost impossible to keep to any kind of schedule. Your engagement and support go a long way towards helping to keep me on track and motivated, so thank you very much for reading and I hope you'll stay tuned for next chapter!

,, From John to the seven churches that are in Asia: grace and peace to you from Him who is, and who was, and who is to come; and of the seven spirits which are before His throne; And from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful Witness, and the Firstborn from the dead, and the Prince of earthly kings, who loves us, and washes us from our sins with his own blood; And makes us kings and priests to God and his Father; to that glory and country for ever and ever. Amen."
Rev. 1:4-6
John is a witness of Jesus Christ who testifies to the word of God. the testimony of Jesus Christ, and everything that Jesus showed him and he is now sending the testimony, i.e. the Revelation to seven churches in Asia Minor. We can read who John is sending to in verse 11, where we have written the names of the churches to whom John needed the Revelation to be sent.
"And write what you see in a book, and send it to the churches that are in Asia: to Ephesus, and to Smyrna, and to Pergamum, and to Thyatira, and to Sardis, and to Philadelphia, and to Laodicea"
Rev. 1:11
Apart from these churches that are mentioned here, there were other local churches, but the Lord Jesus chose seven representative churches that had different problems that symbolize and represent the period of the church until the coming of the Lord Jesus for it.
In addition to these churches, the Revelation was given to all people, especially the church throughout history, and of course also to us in order to learn the details of the events that will soon begin to unfold, because the signs of the times indicate that... the end times" are near.
"Whoever has an ear should hear what the Spirit is saying to the churches."
Rev. 3:22
Jovan continues with the greeting, "Grace to you and peace" and this greeting is not from him because he cannot give grace and peace, true grace and peace can only be given by God and here practically as if he said, "Grace to you and peace from Lord Jesus Christ" the savior, because salvation and everything we receive from God is at the expense of the Lord Jesus Christ and it is a gift, because none of what we receive is a free gift. How important this word is in the New Testament is also evidenced by the fact that the great many books of the New Testament begin with the words "blessing you and peace" in the greeting sentences.
If there was no grace, practically no one would be alive today because all we deserved was death, but we are alive because of the grace and grace of God and not based on any of our merits or actions.
Everything we have in our physical, physical life is God's grace, and also all spiritual life and salvation is by grace from God whom Peter calls the God of grace.
"And the God of all grace, who calls you to his eternal glory in Christ Jesus"
1 Peter 5:10
"Because you are saved by grace through faith, and it is not from you, it is a gift from God. Not from works, so that no one can boast."
Eph. 2:8-9
We see that we are saved by grace, but that is not the end, we need to continue to grow in grace and in the knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ.
"But progress in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and the salvation of Jesus Christ."
2 Peter 3:18
"Because the grace of God that saves all people has been shown, teaching us to renounce the impiety and desires of this world, and to live honestly and righteously and devoutly in this world."
Titus 2:11-12
Here we have advice for an honest worldly life, and we also have a promise that we will receive grace if we find ourselves in some kind of trouble or perhaps illness.
"My grace is enough for you; for my strength is made perfect in weakness."
2 Cor. 12:9
"Let us therefore approach freely to the throne of grace, to receive grace and find grace for the time when we need help"
Hebrews 4:16
In the context of those advices for an honest life, there is also a Record about to whom God gives grace.
"...for God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble."
1 Peter 5:5
and in Jacob, God adds and says that he gives greater grace than problems
"And He gives a greater grace. Because he says: The Lord opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble."
James 4:6
"Grace to you and peace" here is first grace and then peace, and that is because peace is the result of grace. We get peace when we are in a good relationship with God, which means that we are born again and live according to God's will.
"Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ."
Rom. 5:1
When we have this peace with God, we are safe in God's hands and God will never throw us into hell because of our sins because the Lord Jesus died on the cross to redeem us and make us righteous, it is up to us to trust God, confess our sins and live according to the will of God.
"And I will give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand."
John 10:28
Now that we are this safe and reconciled with God, God gives us another blessing Peace from God and this is something that someone who is not at peace with God will never get, and we need this peace every day in our lives, and we don't think and worry about the daily problems, we already enjoy communion with God who is close to us and who cares for us, we see from the whole verse that we just need to ask in prayer and finally give thanks.
"And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, to guard your hearts and your thoughts in the Lord Jesus."
Phil. 4:7
"The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving that your requests may be answered by God."
Phil. 4:6
,,...Grace and peace to you from Him who is, and who was, and who is to come; and of the seven spirits which are before His throne; And from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful Witness, and the Firstborn from the dead, and the Prince of earthly kings, who loves us, and washes us from our sins with his own blood; And makes us kings and priests to God and his Father; to that glory and country for ever and ever. Amen."
Rev. 1:4-6
Below we see where grace and peace come from. Grace and peace is not a human creation as many try to portray or try to bring peace in some way through various activities or actions. We saw that grace and then peace come from God, and here we see that three times it is written that they come "from" the Father, from the Son and from the Holy Spirit.
Also in these verses we see that God is eternal because it is written, from Him who is, and who was, and who is to come" and similarly it is written in 4:8
"Holy, holy, holy Lord God Almighty, Who was, and who is, and who is to come."
Rev. 4:8
And now we could say this differently, God who has always been God until now, God who is God now and God who will always be, therefore, eternal God.
Here is another confirmed confirmation of what we said with a slight difference, it does not say "which will come" because here in the 11th chapter events from the future are described which are already here, therefore "future" is at this moment "present" and here we see the confirmation that in the Revelation the future events are still described for us, but John saw them as the present or even the past when they were shown to him, that's why it says "you will be" and not "which will come."
"We praise you, Lord God Almighty, who are, and were, and will be"
Rev. 11:17
Here is something else from the 16th chapter where we see something similar but it is written even in the past tense, that you judged this "so these are events from the time;; when the Lord Jesus came" for us it is still a perspective of the future but for John it was a perspective of the present, this is what today's modern reporters would say, "a report from the scene"
"You are righteous, Lord, who are, and who were, and holy, that you judged this"
Rev. 16:5
It goes on to say,,, and of the seven spirits that are before His throne"
This refers to the Holy Spirit, but it says "seven spirits" because seven is the number of perfection, fullness and completeness. Here, in fact, the fullness of the Holy Spirit is described because in Isaiah it is written about Jesus:
"And the Spirit of the Lord will rest on Him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and power, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord."
Isa 11:2
In several other places, the number seven is mentioned in relation to the Holy Spirit.
"And he said to me: What do you see? And I said: I see, behold, a candlestick all of gold, and a cup above it, and its seven jars on it, and seven funnels for the seven jars that are above it, and two olive trees by it, one on the right side of the cup and one from the left. And I spoke to the angel who spoke with me, and I said: What is it, my lord? And the angel who spoke with me answered and said to me: Don't you know what it is? And I said: No, my lord. And he answered and said to me, saying: This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel: not by force or by virtue, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts. What are you, great woe, before Zerubbabel? Ravnica; and he will bring out the highest stone, with exclamations: Mercy, mercy to him. And the word of the Lord came to me, saying: Zerubbabel's hands founded this house, his hands will finish it, and you will know that the Lord of hosts has sent me to you. For who has despised the day of small things? Because he will rejoice when he sees the measuring stone in the hand of Zerubbabel, those seven eyes of the Lord that cross the whole earth"
Zechariah 4:2-10
Here, from the sixth verse, we conclude that it is about the Holy Spirit, "not by power or virtue, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts."
"And I saw, and behold, in the middle of the throne and four animals, and in the middle of the elders the Lamb stood as if it had been slain, and it had seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven spirits of God sent throughout the world."
Rev. 5:6
Here we have seven spirits and seven eyes that refer to seven aspects of the work of the Holy Spirit that brings us God's graces, that is why Paul could write in the first Corinthians:
"The gifts are different, but the Spirit is one. And there are different ministries, but the Lord is one. And there are different forces, but there is one God who does everything in everything. And in everyone the Spirit appears for the benefit; For once the word of wisdom is given by the Spirit; and to another the word of understanding by the same Spirit; And to another faith, by that same Spirit; and to another the gift of healing, by that same Spirit; And to another to work miracles, and to another to prophesy, and to another to discern spirits, and to another different languages, and to another to speak in tongues. and he has many members, and all the members of one body, although they are many, they are one body: so is Christ"
1 Cor.12:4-12
"And from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful Witness, and the Firstborn from the dead, and the Prince of the kings of the earth"
We have seen the entire Revelation that it is from the Lord Jesus to the church for encouragement, and here it says, "Faithful witness," and that is what the prophet Isaiah prophesied many years before
"Behold, I have given him as a witness to the nations, as a leader and commander to the nations."
Isaiah 55:4
and faithful because God is faithful and he can be unfaithful
,,,, God is not a man to lie, nor a son of man to repent. What does he say he won't do, and what he says he won't do?"
Numb. 23:19
"And so know that the Lord God is your God, a faithful God, who keeps his covenant and his mercy to a thousand knees to those who love him and keep his commandments."
Deut. 7:9
"And he raises the horn of salvation for us in the house of David his servant, as he says through the mouth of his holy prophets from the ages that he will deliver us from our enemies and from the hands of all who hate us; To show mercy to our fathers, and to remind ourselves of our holy covenant, the Curse with which he swore to Abraham our father that he would give us"
Luke 1:69-73
"God is faithful who has called you into the community of his Son Jesus Christ, our Lord."
1 Cor. 1:9
"No other temptation shall come upon you but that of man; but God is faithful, who will not let you be tempted beyond what you are able, but will also make an end with the temptation, so that you can bear it"
1 Cor. 10:13
"He who called you is faithful, and he will do it."
1 Sol. 5:24
And in Revelation it says more
"Thus says Amen, the Faithful and True Witness, the Beginning of God's creation"
Rev. 3:14
The Lord himself practically confirmed that he is faithful and that he came to testify to the truth
"I was born for that, and that's why I came into the world to bear witness to the truth. And everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice"
John 18:37
"and the Firstborn from the dead" here this does not mean that Jesus was the first to be resurrected because we read that there were people who were resurrected before Him but they later died again. Jesus was the first to be resurrected in a glorified body and He more he never did nor will he die, this part of the verse refers to these facts.
,, And this one, since he remains forever, has an eternal priesthood. That is why he can forever save those who come to God through him, when he always lives to be able to pray for them."
Hebrews 7:24-25
"and Prince over earthly kings" prince means ruler. Lord Jesus is ruler and prince from the beginning to the end, from creation to eternity, He is the faithful and true one from eternity, He is the firstborn in the glorified body and He is the eternal ruler and prince , He is King of kings and Lord of lords because he writes.
"And he has his name written on his robe and on his bosom: King of kings and Lord of lords."
Rev. 19:16
"He will rule from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth."
Psalm 72:8
"All kings will bow down to him, all nations will be submissive to him."
Psalm 72:11
"Who loves us" Jovan continues and says that God loves us permanently and does not say that he loved us, because then that would mean that he once loved us but that he may not love us now for some reason. we would not have permanent security of salvation because it might happen that Jesus returns and God returns at that very moment and we are left behind as they say, "we were unlucky". "so all the time, not sometimes or sometimes. He loves us all the time and that's because of the grace we talked about, we didn't deserve anything, neither salvation, nor the forgiveness of sins, nor life by grace, the only thing we deserved was to throw us into hell and that would be deserved because we do mostly what we shouldn't do. And not only does he not punish us, but makes us emperors and priests.
,, And from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful Witness, and the Firstborn from the dead, and the Prince of earthly kings, who loves us, and washes us from our sins with his blood; And makes us kings and priests to God and his Father; to that glory and country for ever and ever. Amen."
Rev. 1:5-6
Jesus loved his own even in the most difficult moments before going to the cross, we read in John:
"And before the Passover, Jesus knowing that the hour had come for Him to pass from this world to the Father, as He loved His own who were in the world, He loves them to the end."
John 13:1
and this greatly impressed Paul, so he wrote:
"That you may understand with all the saints what is the breadth and length and depth and height, And know the love of Christ that surpasses reason, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."
Eph. 3:18-19
and this love of Jesus cannot be understood by human thinking, this is God's love that surpasses every mind.
"Because I know for sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor present, nor future, nor height, nor depth, nor any other substance can separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus , to our Lord."
Rom. 8:28-39
"And wash us from our sins in your blood" unlike a while ago where it is written in permanent time, now we have a part that has been completed in the past and that is finally there are no more new washings, once all the work Jesus finished and that happened on the cross of Golgotha ​​where we are redeemed once and for all by the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ. Of course, we need daily cleansing in the form of confession of sin, but not complete washing.
,, Jesus said to him: He who has been washed should not wash only his feet, because he is all clean; and you are clean, ..."
John 13:10
"And the blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanses us from all sin."
1 John 1:7
So the blood of Jesus cleanses us from every sin and God will never mention what he cleansed again.
"And their sins and their iniquities I will no longer mention."
Hebrews 10:17
"And make us kings and priests to God and our Father" of course this is also by grace because this is unimaginable for us humans. We know what we are like and what we like to do, but still God does not deal with us according to our mistakes but makes us kings and priests.
"And you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy people, a people of gain, to announce the benefactors of the One who called you out of darkness to his strange light"
1 Peter 2:9
We therefore became the emperor's priests and now we all have direct access to God based on the merits of the Lord Jesus, unlike the people in the Old Testament where only the high priest had access to God once a year in the Holy of Holies and he did not have that access without a sacrifice that he had to make sacrifices.
For us, that sacrifice is the Lord Jesus Christ, and based on that sacrifice, we have constant access to God.
"To him glory and the country forever and ever." Amen." And now at the end, John wants to say that eternal glory, praise and power belong to Him who has given us so much grace and grace.

The lotus leaf is listed as the greatest cleaning agent known to mankind in wikis and was the religious symbol of countless religions. when dirt is wet and becomes sticky mud it dries caked on and stuck and traps or allows for other air or splashes or spills to sort of stick. nanotech is so much smaller its like a big warehouse of crates having dust settle between them and by wiping and buffing and polishing around you remove some of the dirt hopefully most of it and get it underneath it will go right through and under about anything, got a tarpaulin or umm curtains over the window spray the curtains and unseen fine nanotech SHINES the window beautiful perfect coatings. the thin film is like nonstick frypan stuff but not the teflon stuff its safe diamonds arent teflon so the moisture and dirt wont stick as much and easily clean off or sorta slide down? nanotech like INKS and alcohol dyes (food coloring) or other paint pigment powders and !SOME! clearcoat polishes over a certain hardness rating which are safe for homes as under sapphire 9H or 10H it might be some sort of waste product cheap being sold as something like SCOTCH GUARD which may or may not have those long lasting microplastics which could be tiny serrated or jagged. If something is 9H or 10H diamond or sapphire hardness the few enamels or epoxys that bond that strong are small enough and dense that their structure is so tiny it slips through and under inside things and can reinforce them but doesnt damage round cells in organisms. the same way glass cleaner must be diluted and used everywhere as glass is porous and prehistoric volcanic obsidian glass walking spiders can walk up glass with special microhooks in their feet for the holes in glass look a bit like a golf ball dimples everywhere with tiny hole looks like hair lines through it like imagine those office ceiling panels with the holes in white particle board. So glass cleaner cleans out the gunk or else your windows will have a brownness you struggle to clean out of the glass without a deep penetrating cleaning agent that comes out looking a bit like brown river water thats discolored from the porous rocks in the water having umm tiny microorganisms yep rivers of brown. So a tiny drop of glass cleaner or a couple drops in a spray bottle or a bucket of water and maybe some one or two drops hydrophobic glass coating or quickpaint coat and a tiny drop or two or a single spray of PLASTIC AND LEATHER RESTORER
with these drops of stuff in water in a spray bottle or bucket you maybe wanna find something with a high % percentage of surfactants on the back of the detergent/soap bottle to wipe out germs and uhh its the cleaning component in all bubbling detergents the sort of science and cleaning and germ killing powers of it. Some floor cleaners made for timber floors that might be a little streaky and say like a polish or cure or something that maybe gives timber a little bit of a darker look when used regularly and appears subtly more expensive looking like hardwood but isnt carbonizing its a type of cellular structure bonding that reinforces not prehistoric torture the wood into looking blowtorched carbon stuff chemicals its a cleaning product disenfectant that protects and polishes but it needs some sprays of water then a spray or a few drops then buff it in and then dust mop it dry as its got some mild ANTISTATIC which helps lift up dust.. i found one that cleans like magic at my asian supermarkets but im not recommending specific brands over the other its the science of cleaning. then maybe put in a couple drops or up to a teaspoon of 10H hardness and like spray your laundry on the line or your carpet or whatever.. i do everything.. some products not 9H or greater will use some unsafe superglues which ignite cotton fabrics into flames or other things.. now house construction products like liquid nails brown glue for holding timber together might have a clear version called liquid glass that might be for window glazing or whatever i hadnt checked if its safe to use on fabrics and other surfaces the POINT of it is the NAME might say liquid glass but its maybe not silicon dioxide that the florist uses to keep their plants fresh for 2 weeks longer liquid glass as in THAT liquid glass like on your phones nanotech liquid screen protector you apply several coats of one each day then reapply every 8 months the cheap stuff.. some of the auto ones for cars can last 9 or 10 years. i found lots of bargain store looking products of sites like aliexpress or maybe amazon with brands like glassxkare or fantastic XML and adams polishes for tiny vials of 50ml or less of 10H hardness affordable or fantastic XML for like a big 500ML 9H hardness spray bottle that when sprayed into a spray bottle of water and glass cleaner and a drop of hydrophobic coating and plastic and leather restorer and a tiny drop of timber floor polish cleaner that may or may not make it a tiny bit streaky or splotchy the hydrophobic coatings may also be too hydrophobic you can tell if your spray bottle wont suck up water because the water cant enter the tube but if you spray a couple spray bottles of such tiny drops the nozzle will clog and not spray anymore.. nanocoatings can be tricky i dunno what to do. if its scratch protect films make it streaky and require buffing power tools and youre not loud big tools like me maybe aim it at carpets and couches rather than windows and do those without the floor polish. I've found no sort of uhh possible forseeable reasons for any health issues and my stuff looks and FEELS amazingly better, i think bathroom toilets or tiles or shower and tap fixtures or.. walls and floors and furniture and clothes.. i think id only not try spraying my drinking cups and cutlery but i honestly think i might need to drink the stuff its THAT GOOD. my cats LOVE IT! its kinda scary awesome.. i tried brands of plastic and leather restorer and quick paint coat and hydrophobic glass coating from HGKJ black and green labels. I couldnt tell you how safe it is, i just struggled as im a disability pensioner and saw our really old house falling apart and this damn near reversed a few decades off it and brand new snow clothing and jackets and throw rugs i bought felt BETTER THAN NEW i mean ridiculously better than new. ancient poisons used to clean HALF as good and were feared for being too good and too cheap. But diamonds and liquid diamond are naturally occuring hot springs reactions and the reason monkeys stay in there. its literally pretty much good for all life.
(plastic and leather restorer see leather deep conditioner but better and sorta similar to glass cleaner but a sort of UV protect oil and reinforce that adds the rich deep black color back to PU leathers and those vinyl anime girl figures yellowing from the sunlight and UV will becomes their original selves again or old yellowy car headlight covers get fixed up but so do most paints and timbers and other things. but you wanna seal it in with a nano coating when cleaning it out plastic and leather restorer is used in plastic manufacture and when you peel those clear plastic film stickers off shiny new products they help prevent its slow gradual evapouration and why they look so nice and black and arent just to prevent scratches. several days later plastic and leather restorers super shiny rich deep 'wet hair look for your black pleather chair' will seem to have worn off but its UV protect and other things will still be there and some polishes waxes or coatings can help keep it and its colors and UV protect there a bit longer well the look the restorer itself keeps it like how it was quite a while years? till it goes yellowy or faded again.)
So when we look at the water beading on lotus/lily pad leaves and things, ancient people used saps and old polishes and obsidian blades arrowheads since dinosaurs era. which with 200 times sharper than steel knives carbon nanotech its super dangerous deadly and was mostly all used up and we swapped it all out for modern glasses and glazing and safety glass so we dont slice our selves into piles of body parts on invisible pieces. Since the days of ink and whetstone nanotech advanced impossibly high particularly in volcanic hot springs countrys with samurai swords and caligraphy brush ink. Trying to find the scientifically safest and best possible cleaning products super affordably that might be useful for washing clothes, cars, metals plastics and other things.. are strangely not at the home hardware stores.. you see synthetic diamonds been on the gem market for centuries but too expensive to produce till modern different approaches with lasers and different gas precipitation with super high electricity concentrated over weeks or months or special electrolosys solutions will slowly layer and create diamonds but the diamond solution precipitated that grouped to each other or doesnt perfectly slot into the sort of tetris like bonds of the outer layers of the diamond a bit like diamond growth needs spaghetti O's and we're raining alphabet soup at it till with a bout 30% of the letters having a good chance of sticking. every few hours the solution of sublimation precipitate is swapped out creating a couple oven trays of 'liquid diamond solution' 10H hardness brightness and shines up glass with a thin film of diamond giving it moisture modest water resist we can use graphene to increase water resist and 10H+ hardness and apply hydrophobic coatings.. So who makes lots of these liquid finishes and what are they used for? Most are produced by a car race track owner who insists they protect their cars before taking them out onto the track or a speck of dirt or sand might scratch up the paint. But if i wanted to like power pressure washer spray it up onto my roof tiles and thin out some of that lichen and make them more uhh watertight leaks arent a concern but it might prevent a terrible future. anybody know why its not already a thing and there isnt countless guides on the ideal ratios and stuff? i mean its about as expensive as laundry detergent concentrate and used to be in most of those still is in some developed countries.. its what makes american movie sets look so umm bright and shiny and polished and awesome and makes mansions look like mansions or wealthy look and feel and its where LUXURY COMES FROM. is my cheap poor persons attempt at cleaning my own home not good? even if its mildly bad i think i'd use it forever. ESPECIALLY on things like 100% bamboo bed sheets i bought cheap ones from an australian online retailer and a few coatings of sprays and they felt and looked so dang shiny and awesome. Some bottles of the stuff claim 6 drops coats the car but remember many are diluted or not full strength or dont last long as advertised or a big bottle 500ML might be 3months to a year.. rather than tiny medicine bottle 50ml or 30ml sized 3-5 years most i guess, you need to keep applying a coat very often but having it not be streaky or buffing it in is tough so i maybe shaved years off its coating and thinned it out and just apply a bunch of coats as often product claims 9H its only a tiny % the whole spray bottle and needs many many applications to approach that but it is POSSIBLE theoretically. remember all glass cleaner is blue colored so when you dilute it with water you shouldnt have it fully color the water too much or its TOO STRONG. 80s people cleaned 80s glazing which maybe radium or lead tincture as radiation blocking films were often lead or radiation lined literally as a radiation shield was a.. film of radiation so it lasted years and needed double or triple glazing for expensive high rise buildings and cleaning heaps of smoky 80s glass dredged out horror mud floods of brown sludge that got them accused of dirtying things, though 80s squeegee thingys are really bad unless you reverse them and press down on a microfibre cloth with them for good even pressuer and a nice streak free clean using the back black rubber blade part to make a thin line of glass cleaning cloth good contact i previously saw reverse squeegee you mount cleaning cloths into specifically but searching i cant find to buy it when i tested it out at home with a squeegee that doesnt clip in like that. are there special tools you guys use? whats the secret? also the purple ceramic graphene ones seem awesome but maybe arent quite close to 9H either.. the bright shine of 10H or 10H+ on tiles and glass.. when apply hydrophobic it looks like zero application of anything somehow its gone for days. does anyone have a more ideal ratios specific or specific active ingredient amounts by weight or dilute with stuff that isnt water to help it keep its years of coating? does using a power washer make it not last? or last longer? or apply streaky splotchy? if its splotchy would more coats over weeks get it all consistent?
the liquid diamond stuff is in many countrys water or whatever.. but uhh concerns about silicosis maybe arent a thing at all if you cough it feels like its cleaning your lungs not harming them. Silicosis happens when criminal retards enter a sandblasting sealed room containment to steal the literally raw materials from factories or whatever or they use water cutting and sand blasting and CNC machines and sharpening blades constantly without sealed enclosure vacuum air scrubber filters. thats what wrecks those benchtop workers also they maybe mixing or breathing wrong epoxys and resins or dont seal them with the correct sealants and polishes and finishes.

When it comes to outer space, what are your first thoughts?
Is it...the infinite expanse? Or the vacuum of stars, galaxies, planets, and moons?
Beautiful as it may be, there are also the negatives.
Such as the absence of air and sound making space a silent and weightless environment. The temperatures vary from extremely hot or freezing cold.
There are things that aren't human. Which can make their way into the tiniest of spaces, and enter into a foreign body draining it dry from the inside.
Michael was the only one alive, sitting alone in the dark corner of his room. He was unsure of when it started, but when the first person collapsed and then the next.
Those people were sent to the medical wing where they could not contain this affliction since they had no idea what it was.
While observing the bodies, they were nothing more than shriveled up leather. Eyes sunken, and void of color. This 'thing' would slither out of the victims' mouths.
It was miniature, violet, and made of ooze.
The ooze is able to turn itself into a haze. In that form, it can easily be inhaled. Entering the body with ease, beginning its feeding frenzy.
How did Michael know this?
Well, to be direct, he came in contact with a crew member who had been infected while checking for survivors. Now, as he looked down at his shriveled legs, he knew soon it would make its way through his main artery.
Hopefully, by leaving this recorded log, anyone who accesses the files will stay clear of this ship and its crew. Space may be beautiful, but there are some things that should stay a mystery.
"Sir, there has been an update to the Star Finder crew's database," a woman with a high bun and glasses swiveled in her chair to face a man sitting behind many screens. He looked over at her.
"Go ahead and play the recording," he pushed himself away from his desk as she clicked on the file. On a big screen in the middle of the room, it showed Michael, who coughed and began talking as he sat in the corner of his room.
"My name is Michael Phillips. Crew member of the Star Finder, recovery division. We were infiltrated by this...ooze " he paused and moved around as if he was in pain.
"I-it can change its shape, turning into this...haze. When it enters inside, this thing siphons everything. Leaving nothing but a leathery husk. I don't know where it came from or if it was because of the storm, but...please, I beg you. Stay away from the Star Finder! There are no survivors here."
The footage ended, turning to static. The woman turned to face the man who sighed, tapping his fingers on his desk.
"Do as he says. There will be no retrieval in case another crew goes through the same. We will figure out a way to dispose of the incident," the man behind the desk told her.
She nodded and put out a warning to other crews not to enter the same area as the Star Finder when a call rang out in the room. As she issued the warning, the man behind the screens answered the ringing phone.
"This is base," the man listened to the voice on the other end, telling him they had come across the idle Star Finder just floating in space. He rose to his feet, slamming a hand onto his desk panicked.
"Don't engage! Turn around!" he yelled, startling his female companion. The voice, on the other end, went silent before questioning why since they had already sent a team over to investigate. Slumping back into his chair, he frowned, gripping the phone tightly in his hand.
"Then there is nothing that I can do for you. I'm sorry," he told them before placing the phone back onto the receiver. It was too late to save any of the crew.
Whatever this thing was, they were at its mercy now.

every day i pick and pick and pick until there is no nail left or until something gets infected. it feels like my hands and feet are so dirty because of the dead skin on there, and i know the logical solution is to just stop and do “exposures” but i can’t every time i try it gets worse again. i do it and i dont stop when it hurts or when i start bleeding. sometimes showering helps but sometimes it triggers my ocd too. i poke at my nails with a seam ripper or nail clippers or whatever i can get my hands on and can’t bring myself to throw those things out. i just want my nails gone!! i might try wearing gloves, but even that is hard because they can’t stay on 24/7 same thing with socks too.
edit: i threw the seam ripper away and am going to try wearing gloves for a little while. i also have this fidget i used during the semester and seemed to work but i stopped using it for some reason because i felt like people were judging me for it lmao 🥲

i know the title sounds crazy but if your goal here is to move the price even in a positive direction that would still factually be correctly classified as market manipulation. not hating just wanted to say that your time is much better used in finding ways of spending your doge. transfer your spending money into it and find ways to spend it. this will have a much larger effect on the price than posting "to the moon"
you do you though. I am not hating on anyone. I've been in this game for a long time now and I've seen it all at this point and I believe we are well past the time for talk... its time to move on from memes and into the real world. seriously find ways of spending it. this puts doge into ppls hands and by them spending it it will reinforce doges role as a currency. we need demand, demand created by every day folks who would never come to this reddit in the first place as most dont even have reddit or know what it is.
you start getting those ppl involved and this will get you to the moon. nothing will happen with just memes. discuss amongst yourselves and find ways of using the money you would of spent anyways on everyday items to create demand for doge. businesses can save money on purchase fees with doge vs credit / debit card but they will never find that out if we dont as a community show them.
I make sure if I can spend it in doge then i do. I understand that is not possible for alot of things but things that it is possible for your voting against your own interest by spending USD and not DOGE.
a little trick I try now to ask any waiter before I tip them on the receipt if they have a crypto wallet. if they say yes I ask for their QR code and then send them a tip in doge. some of the places I regularly go to have wait staff that set up a wallet just for this and over the years I've tipped them enough that now they are in all the way. they thank me frequently for getting them to invest. it was years ago and to me it made no difference as the 5 bucks i was gonna tip was the same either way. but now that 5 bucks is worth a whole lot more. if it was USD instead then it would of lost value instead. these interactions although small build up and eventually your real life actions will lead to the world we all want.... true freedom from corporate and governmental overreach in the monetary system.
I have provided below a list of companies that will accept doge as payment.(just google cryptwerk doge payments if like me you dont click links) this is your path to success here. Dont get me wrong the energy is great and i love it but we need to redirect it into the real world. I know I'm sorry I'm long winded. feel free to down vote me for this reason.
tldr: hold your doge but transfer your spending USD into doge in a separate hot wallet and spend it wherever you would normally spend USD. list provided below may not be completely up to date as it is ever growing but a notable one is AMC. if your going to the movies with USD then you've no business saying "go to moon"
a link to cryptwerk article list of businesses that accept doge as payment

hi, I'm 16 and I lost my father last week. I apologize for any mistakes, english isn't my first language
we (my mom, me and my dad) all lived together. when you live with someone for your whole life, you kinda get used to them always being around. in his room, at work, in the kitchen — my dad was always somewhere near, but it's not like he was in front of my eyes 24/7. he goes to work every day, and when he comes home i just say hi, we chat a little and he goes to his room. my mom works from home tho, so she's always around and i see her very often
so, on may 2, my father goes into the hospital. at first i didn't think much of it, and i continued living with the idea that he is somewhere near, and he will come home eventually
then, he dies on may 9. at that point i havent seen him for a week, but, in my thoughts, he was still somewhere near, just out of my sight
and now, 2 weeks since i last saw him i start to realise that he is not here, and i will never see him again. that thought terrifies and scares me, and i don't want to accept it
so, i start thinking, "if i will never see him again, how can i be sure that he even existed?" i mean, i exist, so obviously he existed, but did i ever know him? see him? talk to him? if all i have is memories, videos and his things, does that mean that i don't have any proof of him? beacause things are just things, memories are forgettable and videos are pixels on a screen, how can i be sure that he was real
i think grief is a hot boiling water in a pot, and you are supposed to fully stick your hands into it, otherwise you'll never learn to live with it. when i get too close to that heat i quickly pull my hands away and try to distract myself, because in my mind he is still alive and well (at least from the outside). he just can't die. because death happens to other people, but not to me or my family
that was my first ever post on reddit and i still don't fully understand how everything works here (i'm not even sure people are gonna see this), but after typing all that i think i feel i little better. i said "i think" because i can't tell if i'm in denial again or not
so, what i wanna ask is, did anyone here feel the same? how do i even begin to accept the fact that he died? will that happen eventually? or i have to actively convince myself that he is dead?

I have a problem. I am addicted to knowledge. I believed in the myths of the 1989s and 90s. NBC said "The more you know..." One of my former attorneys told me that I am too smart for my own good. How funny is it that the people we give power over us are the ones we need to defend ourselves against. I stayed in a horrible marriage too long. I should have never married him the second time. That being said, I am grateful for the life I lived. The song says "I could have missed the pain, but I'd a had to miss the dance... it's MY life, and it's better left to chance.". I don't believe in chance or fate. I believe that we have a certain measure of control over our lives and we allow others to derail us. What we do about that impact is a choice. I choose to be the captain of my own vessel until the river runs dry. No lawyer, no judge, no man, and no institution will force me to do anything else that is not for my own good or for the good of my family. Everywhere I go, I am turned away. I sat in an ER having a reaction to spider bites. I drove myself to an ER 2 hours from home because the ER here said nothing was wrong. I did call the individual who should have driven me, but he could not leave work he said. Funny how quickly he runs to help a woman he thinks will inherit money some day. When I got to the ER, I could barely breathe and had lost sensation in my hands and arm. I am not a doctor but know the difference between an ant bite and a venomous spider bite. And no, you don't feel a Brown Recluse bite. You will certainly feel a Black Widow bite IF bitten by an adult spider. Spiders are not insects, and if we are going to practice medicine, then we need to learn that yes, there is a difference between a 2, 4, or 6 leg creature and one with 8 or more legs. I was told there are no species of insects in this state that are poisonous. Well venom and poison are not the same thing and arthropods, arachnids, and serpents all have venomous species in this state. But if you really want to be technical about it, yes, there are poisonous insects in this state as well. Certain species of beetles have a coating on their exoskeleton that poison predators that eat them. I should sue that hospital, but when I try to do so, I am told constantly about statute of limitations. Well, that would be correct unless we are discussing a conspiracy. If even one party of a conspiracy is an employee of the business or government involved in the series of crimes which include a cover up of epic proportions, then the statute clock does not begin into the last probable occurrence of the group. Preventing someone from seeking legal counsel is the main reason statute of limitations cease to apply in all jurisdictions. Considering my 5g gateway I hold in my hand is alerting me that my IP address is being traced and altered, I am documenting that the time clock has not started ticking on this knowledge bomb. My confession here is that I have procrastinated in filing paperwork necessary to begin the next phase of my life. I don't intend to procrastinate, but it is something I cannot help. I have attention deficit disorder with hyperdiatractability. Oh yes, I thought you might bring that up. My ex-userband is a master manipulator when it comes to taking genuine disabilities and twisting them to fit his current need. Like using the multiple personality possibility to steal and then say it must have been one of the others living in my head. The truth is that I do have multiple entities dwelling within me. He is no longer living rent free in my head. And he of all people should have known better than to try to hurt me and my family. He knows good and well what I am capable of. Why in the hell would he or any of my close degree relatives even think about throwing me to the wolves? Think about that for a minute. He says I am unstable. He says I am dangerous. He says I am a genius. My doctor has said he fears for the world if I ever have a breakdown. Lol. A weapon of mass destruction? Come on you idiots. I am not a villain. And the AI shit can create crap about Darth Vader being a good guy and laugh all they want. I don't blackmail people or take money in romance schemes. What are you talking about now? I am talking about the tangled web we mortals weave that is host to a very dangerous arachnid. I don't know how to write code or do math. I don't know anything about the occult arts nor do I need to. I believe in one philosophy that you should read about a cave. The allegory in which we wage war with ourselves and have to ultimately decide to be or not to be. So why would anyone who knows me choose to strike against me? That would be me. They did not betray me. I stepped in front of them myself to make myself the target. There's your confession my dears. Clueless? Still don't know what the hell I am talking about? Let me ask you a question about something I observed once. Do you know what a dead ringer is ? How many kids do you see in the yard playing horseshoes or volleyball or hopscotch or anything? How are the enrollment numbers for youth sports in your area? How many 4-H clubs exhibit in your local fair? What is the pH level in the community pool? So if you can't make a profit from it, then it is something that should be eliminated or monetized? Well I guess I am the idiot here. I actually don't think like that. I would rather have a generation of healthy children who learn morals and ethics than to be a billionaire. Ever watched the movie Congo? Yeah, I am that level of crazy. You think I care about the money? I will not hesitate to burn every dollar I could possibly ever own to stop the children from being hurt by us. You want the truth? You can't handle the truth. Because the truth is that I am a good woman who loves very deeply and cares about people regardless of ethnicity or national origin. And that pisses people off like nothing else will. And that is the absolute truth. You didn't earn any right to be born in a free country any more than a child born in the deepest jungles of an unpronounceable country did anything wrong to be porn into starvation. You are no better than that person. So call me what you want to call me. But if I were you, I would not call me at all. Go ahead and tell me more about what I can and cannot do. Because the entire time you are busy searching for the next thing you can find online about me, the less time you are handling your own affairs and that allows the chance for something to invade your life. One. One chance. That's all I needed. Your motion for mercy has been denied. Well thank you for your consideration. Have a good day. Oh, and one more thing, how do you feel about NPR? Are those radio waves still available for broadcast? Or would you like to sell those to private investors as well? One chance. Lord give me one chance for a fair fight. You are not going to get me to do something that gives you the chance to shoot me or arrest me unless you intend to do so in a public place such as the private property you call county land, aka, my front porch. And the next time that happens, please allow me to call my father instead of unlocking my phone to call the ex-husband using my own device that you somehow unlocked using the passcode. And that was the one you actually needed, sir. How ironic that you gave that gateway to the man who broke it beyond repair. You did that. I'm done with money. I'm done with the man. And I am done trying to prove myself. Charge me now with whatever you think you have or make sure everyone connected to your organization ends all active tracking of us. I don't need a phone or any piece of paper to make my case. That's where you and whomever snatches my device to transfer shit doesn't understand. Yahoo! Yippee kai yah mother fuckers. Pass it on around. You want to go one more round? Or do you want to run? I'm not using Google on my train. I'm on my bridge. I'm using free tokens. I'm not doing anything more than playing a game using cartoon characters. And those Xs are beacons using analytics for the trackers to pinpoint the ones who joined the conspiracy against us. Just because you logged me out and changed my information to your information doesn't work. I asked you to give it back. You ignored me. Fine. Keep it. You want to be famous and rich beyond your wildest dreams? Be my guest, but don't say I didn't warn you what would happen. I can't stop it. I didn't start it. Rufus=the time traveler with a phone booth. James=King James. Travis=country music singer. Don=American Pie. Jerry=Maguire. Tom=Hanks. Bridge=the bifrost. And you can waste your time trying to figure it out but you will never do so. Because there is no "it ". Lmao. Hell yeah. The multiverse is full on all servers. Damn. Looks like I'm not as crazy as you made me out to be. All freaking servers on the Dark Web that bridges the US and Japan are full. Not one vacancy to let me play my game. Wow. I wonder how many of these players are from within the same state as me. Why do so many of you keep running up to St. Louis? That's not the geoblock zone anymore. You better get outside the continental US and any outlying territories if you want to be on the real web. The former president said it would crash harder than it did in 1929 if he was not elected. Wtf is that supposed to mean? Damn let me get a history book and look that up. Maybe it hasn't changed yet. But let me warn you about time travel. If anyone ever tells you to write an email to yourself in the future, call Interpol and file a report. That's a violation of international law. And it will get you on the list even if it is an assignment. Bet I don't do that again. Gee, Roger. You made me an international fugitive for that assignment. Wish I knew who to call for help on that one. Damn. Never trust anyone who is so well organized to guide your future. You never know what to expect from the shock waves. I opened the damn email on June 3, 2020. The day I died. How ironic. I wonder what would have happened if I had not received that email. Scary. But back to the spider bites...I didn't get help from that ER either. I ended up buying a knife and an onion. Actually I ordered Arby's, used the onion off my sandwich, and the knife to open my horsey sauce. I put the onion on my hand, wrapped it using the plastic from the knife, and several days later, the venom had drained from my hand enough that the swelling in my feet was going down and my blood pressure was returning to normal. Baby black widows don't have the kick mama does, but they are 1,000 times more deadly because they don't know how much of their spit to stick in you. And your earlobe and nostril don't have a pulse in them, by the way. So keep on bullshitting with the fake crap. If you have insurance for something highly unlikely to occur prior to the occurrence, doesn't that mean that you have a sixth sense and can predict the volcanic eruption that spewed counterfeit currency all over the state without a volcano? 💩♾️😱 Damn girl, just shut up and let them have it. I tried that. They keep trying to send it back to me when they can't make it work. It is never going to work again because you idiots changed everything so much that it can't be fixed. And that is all I am going to say about it ever because you don't want help. You want someone to do it for you so you can blame that person when it fails and cut them out when it succeeds. No. There's no solution. I'm not sure if you even know there's a problem. You will. But don't ask anyone for help when you do figure out how bad things already are. I am disinclined to aquiese to your request on grounds of I don't give a damn. Haha. What else do you want me to confess to for you to add to that admission you started in 2020? That's so funny that I forgot to laugh. I wonder how bullshit sounds in Morse code pinging on nft relays from me to you. Oh yeah. Well here's your tip for the day, big guy. You are not a good person. You are a bully. And some day, someone will knock you off that horse and when you land in shit just like me, I hope someone hands you hand sanitizer and a baby wipe. 😘

Fiona Santos is strong, protective, and selfless. All of the qualities that are important in a parent, she strives to uphold.
She has two children to look after, and they need her, just like she needs them. The room is dimly lit with a harsh fluorescent light flickering above, casting long ominous shadows across the walls.
A sturdy metal table is bolted to the floor, with three chairs placed around it, Fiona sitting in one. Two men walk in, causing the atmosphere in the room to become tense.
"Mrs. Fiona Santos?" one of the detectives questioned, looking inside the folder he is holding.
Straightening her dress, Fiona sat upright in her chair, looking forward and holding herself in a sophisticated manner. "Ms. Santos," she corrected, "My husband passed away eight years ago."
"Our apologies," Detective Pierce nodded to his colleague as they both took a seat across from her. As they sat, Detective Pierce folded his hands in front of himself atop the table and rolled his shoulders.
"Can you tell us again what happened to your children?" he asked, forcing a smile.
"Like I told the police and your associate here...my children and I were on our way to the park when 'it' appeared out of nowhere," Fiona paused and exhaled slowly. 'IT TOOK.THEM.FROM.ME!' she enunciated each word by smacking her palm down onto the table.
Fiona fixed her frizzy hair so it was out of her eyes, then wiped her sweaty palms on her dress.
"We understand your frustration. Can you recall again what 'they' looked like?" Detective Pierce asked.
How could she forget what THEY looked like? Closing her eyes, Fiona could still see them even now. Six feet tall, their limbs unnaturally long. Fingers black with pointed tips. A faded torn green dress adorned their lanky frame.
"Any facial features you remember?" the detective next to Pierce asked, tapping his pen onto the notepad he was writing in.
"It was always changing as if it was contorting together," Fiona replied, furrowing her brow.
Detective Pierce knew exactly what they were dealing with and stood up from his seat. "That will be all, Ms. Santos."
His associate looked at him bewildered as she left the room.
"Are you sure about this, Pierce? What if Ms. Santos had something to do with her children's disappearances?"
"Morrison, have you ever heard of the entity called 'The Mother'?"
An entity called Mother... The mother takes children away, and they never come back. Her first appearance was in the 1800s when all of the children from a local orphanage went missing. Since then, the same description from eyewitnesses has been told by adults.
"So what happens to the children?" Morrison paled, dreading to even ask at this point.
"Her den isn't too far from here. There I am sure we will find what remains of them," replied Pierce, exiting out of the room with associate close behind him.
In the middle of the forest, a six-foot-tall figure was digging into the earthen soil where white and yellow bones mixed in with it. Mother added more to the pile, proudly gleaming at their children.

Venus jolted awake. Disoriented, she blinked at the sunlight filtering through the blinds, revealing the empty box of chocolate sprawled beside her in bed, like a sinful lover.
“Oh, God!” she groaned as she put her head in her hands.
The cell phone’s ring made her jolt again. Glancing at the screen, she saw Aiden’s name on the caller ID.
"Good morning, my love!" she answered, forcing a brightness into her voice.
"Happy birthday, beautiful! Sorry, I’m not there to celebrate with you today,” Aiden's voice, warm and familiar, crackled through the receiver. “Celebratory dinner when I get back on Friday?"
"Sounds perfect."
“Hey, did you get the chocolate and flowers I sent you?”
“Yes! Oh my God, the bouquet is gorgeous....and all peonies...my favorite.”
“How about the chocolate? Did you try any of them?”
Venus looked at the sad empty box and started putting the stray chocolate wrappers into it.
“I got the box. It looks so fancy, but I haven’t opened it yet.”
“I ordered them from this artsy chocolatier that has unusual flavors like saffron and rose water. I think you’ll like them.”
Venus got out of bed, carrying the box.
“Yum, can’t wait to try them. You’re so thoughtful.”
“It takes one to know one. Okay, gotta run. Have a meeting in a few. See you Friday. Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
Hanging up, Venus surveyed the bed and floor to make sure there were no empty wrappers left behind.
Then, quickly, she headed to the kitchen and grabbed a large recycling bag.
She dumped the chocolate box in it and walked towards the trash can which was overflowing with all kinds of candy, cookie, and cake wrappers. She dumped those in the recycling bag as well and secured it with two fierce knots.
She scanned the kitchen, making sure she had not left any evidence behind.
Nothing.
She let out a sigh and said, “Siri, play Vivaldi.”
Classical music was her constant refuge. She would let it linger in the air and wash over her nerves.
As she listened to 'La Primavera' and relaxed, her gaze drifted to her favorite painting on the dining room wall. Sandro Botticelli’s "Birth of Venus".
The painting was supposed to be more meaningful that day. A congratulatory reminder of her existence from the goddess she was named after. Instead, she felt the goddess was mocking her for the shameful night before.
She escaped to the dressing room to change. Only to find her self-scrutiny intensified within its mirrored walls that reflected with brutal honesty.
Apparent were a subtle swell of her stomach, and a telltale puffiness around her eyes. She turned, observing her thighs. At least no changes there.
She could still fit into her clothes. Of course, she could. But what would she wear? What does one wear on her special day, she wondered.
She looked at her favorite dresses, and then, as if the day hadn’t started dramatically enough, she remembered. She couldn’t wear any of her dresses. Absolutely not.
Today was the day of her interview at Bayside Hospital. The place where she'd envisioned herself working ever since she was a teenager; her dream job.
She looked at her watch. Eight twenty-nine. Her heart sank. The interview was at nine.
No time for self-pity. Every second counted.
She looked at her formal wardrobe. Silk blouses peeked from their designated shelves. Their delicate fabrics and understated patterns hinted at a quiet femininity beneath the professional facade.
But Venus had no time to ponder. She picked out a navy skirt and dark blue blouse. She had never thrown an outfit together this fast.
She ran to the bathroom. Her hair, usually styled in elegant waves, was yanked back into a messy bun secured with the first pin she could find.
A glance in the mirror confirmed the precarious state of her hair bun, but there was no time for adjustments.
She picked up her purse and shoved her feet into the closest pair of flats.
As she raced to the door, she remembered makeup. Oh well, this was an interview for a nutritionist, not a runway model, she told herself.
But there was one thing she could not forget. Getting rid of the recycling bag. That was a must. So that she could forget all about last night.
With a final yank on the door, Venus headed out, carrying the large recycling bag like a chubby baby.
At the apartment building's communal recycling area, she cast a furtive glance around, then dumped the bag in the bin and slammed the lid shut.
A feeling of relief washed over her. Now she could concentrate on what mattered.
She envisioned herself at the interview, as a picture of calm competence. She got this. After all, no one deserved the Senior Nutritionist position at Bayside more than her.
A bachelor's degree in biochemistry and a master's degree in food nutrition, both from an Ivy League school and top of her class - this was just the foundation. She also had a decade of clinical research experience and stellar recommendations from respected colleagues.
Maybe landing this job on her birthday was meant to be. The stars were aligned and ready to grant her heart's desire, she thought.
Suddenly, a vision of Botticelli’s Venus flickered in her mind. "Think you’ll be the Senior Nutritionist at Bayside? Think again. You're a fraud! A shimmering facade masking a mess. This dream will turn to dust in your hands, just like the cookies I watched you consume last night."
Goddess Venus was right. Human Venus was an imposter. A nutritionist with a secret sugar addiction and major binge disorder. A secret that she had kept from everyone, including her beloved husband.
No one knew that she craved and consumed the very foods she told others were detrimental to their health. Frosting-laden cakes, creamy dreamy shakes, and brightly colored candies that she had learned, through biochemistry courses, were almost toxic for human consumption.
Her confidence faltered as the weight of her secret pressed down on her. The steps that moments ago seemed light and purposeful now felt heavy, each one a reminder of the lie she was living.
But slowing down wasn't an option. She was already running late.
What she needed now was a release from the suffocating guilt and shame. To numb herself, to become emotionally empty. Yes, EMPTY…. like the box of chocolate she woke up next to.

FTM Looking for some first hand experience/knowledge with Infant dyschezia? I suspect my 2wk+2day has this. From what I read it’s common and there really isnt much to do for it.
My baby is exclusively breastfed we were supplementing with a bottle (just my breast milk) a few times a day to make sure she was getting enough because she went from 6lbs 8oz to 5lbs 14oz but after seeing a lactation consultant we found out she was getting plenty just from breast and she’s almost back at birth weight.
She has normal breast fed baby poop. Slightly runny, seedy and mustard yellow. She toots a lot and just about every time she does it’s basically a shart. Sometimes she’ll grunt in her sleep and move her legs. But about 1-2x a day she will wail and cry so hard she turns red and can barely catch her breath. It took me a minute to figure out what was happening, usually this happens during a diaper change. And I’ll wipe as she poops out small bits and she will reach a point where she’s crying so hard she then is able to poop this large amount and her crying slowly stops. Rn she has a yeast infection on her bum so I don’t use wipes instead I take her to the sink under warm water and wash her bum so normally she ends up pooping the great big poop in the sink.
I’ve tried massaging her tummy in all the special ways and she seems to hate that more. I’ve tried bicycle kicks and she usually jerks her feet from me and does her own in a very violently strong way for a newborn imo. During her crying I tried to use a pacifier but I feel that distracts her and she ends up not being able to poop. I basically just end up talking to her in a sweet manner and telling her how sorry I am for this cause it looks painful and really it just worries me that she’s gonna pass out from crying so hard.
Some people have told me I’m obsessing over her pooping but I’m not I just know how she’s behaving isn’t normal but perhaps it is if it’s infant dyschezia? None of the women that have had babies recall or had babies that acted like this. And rn I’m main person caring for her and spending the most time with her so I feel like I sorta know my baby and can read her well enough to know she’s straining hard to poop even tho she’s not constipated. After these fits she’s usually hungry or just wants breast for comfort. She’s a very easy going baby she only whines and cries if she needs fed or cleaned or if she’s lonely and wants to be held. Other than that she sleeps or just quietly hangs out next to me or in my arms or someone else’s. And then the only time she screams and cries is during these big bowel movement times.
When we meet with our pediatrician I plan on asking/telling them anyways about this but I wanted others thoughts and opinions. Thank you!

I used to walk with her, now I walk alone. We used to marvel at the beautiful houses together, now I look down at my feet. Each home we pass, a grain of salt in the wound, each house a reminder of what I lost. Even though it hurts, I still find myself continuing our walks. Sometimes pain is good. It reminds us that we are still living. I’d rather feel the pain of her passing, than not feel her at all.
She’s alive when I walk. She’s the shadow that strolls behind. Though I can’t see her, I can feel her. Her presence is like a windbreaker draped across my shoulders in an especially violent storm. The pain isn’t gone but it’s bearable when I’m moving. I can’t speak to her, but she’s there. When I trip over a root, a hand steadies me. When I veer off course, I feel a gentle nudge.
And every day I end up in front of the same abandoned house on Jackson Street.
A grand home, at least at one point it must’ve been. The windows are boarded closed. The door is locked. Beware trespasser signs are strewn haphazardly across the tangled mess of the once impressive lawn.
I feel her presence strongest here. It is almost tangible, as if she’s hiding behind a thin curtain. I call her, yet she never answers. I reach for her, yet I can never lay hands on her. It is here on my journey where my emotions get the best of me. Every day I come, every day I cry.
The neighbors look at me with trepidation, but long gone are my days of caring what others think. I stand there an old man, face in my hands and weep for the woman I lost. Let them think what they want, but my Lenore was worth every tear.
I feel a tap on my shoulder and look up to see the front door of the house swing wide. Light pours out of it, and there she is, my Lenore. I rush towards her and the gaping maw, towards the woman I’ve lost. The woman who heard my cries. The one who has returned for me.
As I barrel forward through the brambles and overgrown weeds, I hardly am aware of the scrapes and cuts. Nor does it bother me that I trip over a hidden bottle and go tumbling face first in the dirt. I sling myself forward with the stamina of a much younger man.
And then, I am there, standing in touching distance from her. She’s got the same strawberry blonde hair that always left me breathless. It’s wrapped in a French braid with a daisy tucked behind her left ear. She looks younger by nearly twenty years since the last time I've seen her. Her nose and cheeks are dusted with a fine layer of freckles.
I begin to giggle like a schoolboy as I remember I once tried to count them. Twenty-three was the highest I got before I found my mouth on hers. And suddenly I have an inappropriate urge to pull her close and continue the kiss in front of God and all the neighbors.
Shortly before I do just that, she vanishes, leaving me standing in the front door alone once more. I look around the hallway and notice it’s fully furnished. There is no dust or decay. The parlor is in perfect condition. Even more surprising, I hear someone playing the piano. It’s Fur Elise and I could recognize that sound anywhere. Lenore was playing it the day she died.
A writhing anger fills me at this thought. I don't want to think of that day. The day the sun stopped shining. The day my life was uprooted and tossed carelessly in the trash. I try my best to tune that cursed melody out of my mind, but it fights me tooth and nail at every turn. It refuses to depart like a troublesome guest unwilling to take a hint. Even still, I find my feet moving towards the sound.
The Turkish rug leading down the hall looks familiar, the pattern of the wolf howling at the moon, the picture of the ship sailing in rough seas. I know it. I walk forward, no longer in control over my own body. Instead, everything begins to flash in front of me like a movie. I know on the other side of the door is a set of stairs that leads to the great room.
Still, I don’t remember, I can’t remember. They threaten to come back, but I don’t let them. I don’t want to remember. A feeling of unease bubbles to the surface, bringing with it a queasy gurgling in the pit of my stomach. I feel my lunch begin to squirm its way back up, burning my throat and causing a tingling sensation deep in my nasal cavity.
I know all my efforts are fruitless. The memories will come back. The dam I built to hold them at bay has already begun to crack. It will crumble soon. I know enough to know that I don't want to know, yet the details of that day are fuzzy. With each step closer to the door they come into focus. And as my hand reaches for the gilded doorknob, all goes black.
I’m back.
Oh God have mercy on me, I’m back to the day my wife died.
I come to this conclusion even as my own traitorous hand throws wide the hallway door. I fight for control. I do everything in my power to not see. My eyes fling wide, and I look to see the back of my sweet Lenore’s head, the damned daisy still perched behind her ear. She’s playing and she doesn’t know I’ve arrived.
I know what is coming but I don’t want to. Yet those damned feet, those mutinous mother fuckers keep pushing me forward. First up one step then two, before I even know it, I’ve scaled half of them. Now I can see her back, she’s in a flowery dress with what looks to be hummingbirds sucking at the honey. Fur Elise is ramping up, and the song is nearing its climax.
And then I see it. Him to be precise. He’s lounging in my chair, drinking my whiskey, with his shirt partially unbuttoned. I take it all in. My brain makes the connections. Rage, white-hot fills me once more. I look to the left and then the right, and that’s when I see my cavalry saber hanging on the wall for decoration.
I remember the outcome, yet I can’t force myself to let go of its hilt. My hand turns white from grasping it so hard. There’s nothing I can do to lessen my grip. I see myself marching up behind her sword held high in one hand.
Fur Elise climaxes as my arm swings. I strike her left shoulder blade and with a discordant whine the music stops altogether. Inwardly I scream. I curse my God’s damned temper. I watch as she slumps out of her chair.
Without a second glance, I am charging the man just beginning to look up from his comfortable spot in my seat. My blade penetrates his right abdomen, he lets out one shriek before my second swing catches him directly in the throat.
I am appalled at the blood spurting from his nearly decapitated neck. My hands are scarlet, I feel wet stickiness oozing down my face. Yet I can’t control my own limbs as they swing and swing and swing, chopping the man into kindling. I try to close my eyes, but they won’t, so I see his hand go flying. I watch as his innards come bubbling out of his abdomen. I split his head like a grape and watch as his brain matter leaks out to the floor.
To my dismay, I hear a gurgling sound coming from behind me. I turn knowing what I’ll see but powerless to stop it. I look to see Lenore’s face towards me trying to speak. Blood bubbles drizzling out of the side of her mouth. I don’t need to hear the words to know what she is trying to say. “Please, no more.”
Pity fills my heart, and my own eyes refuse to cry. “Please don’t do this,” I scream at myself in vain. I watch as I slowly move towards my former wife letting the blade carve a wicked groove into the marble floor. With no mercy my arm swings the blade up once then twice then three times, and all goes black.
Finally, I regain control of my limbs and body. I look up to see a vandalized great hall with a nasty groove in the marble floor, and there my chopped wife lying on the floor looking up at me with dead yet still very much alive eyes.
I see the monstrosity of my late wife clamber to her feet. Her left eye slides out of its socket running like egg yolk down her face. Black pustule blood leaks from her wounds. Her right eye locks with mine and in a slobbering wet noise she says, “I will never let you forget what you did here. Jail wasn’t enough for you. You didn’t stay your hand, so even in your Alzheimer’s I won't let you forget. Same time tomorrow, honey?
johnwestrick.com

Venus jolted awake. Disoriented, she blinked at the sunlight filtering through the blinds, revealing the empty box of chocolate sprawled beside her in bed, like a sinful lover.
“Oh, God!” she groaned as she put her head in her hands.
The cell phone’s ring made her jolt again. Glancing at the screen, she saw Aiden’s name on the caller ID.
"Good morning, my love!" she answered, forcing a brightness into her voice.
"Happy birthday, beautiful! Sorry, I’m not there to celebrate with you today,” Aiden's voice, warm and familiar, crackled through the receiver. “Celebratory dinner when I get back on Friday?"
"Sounds perfect."
“Hey, did you get the chocolate and flowers I sent you?”
“Yes! Oh my God, the bouquet is gorgeous....and all peonies...my favorite.”
“How about the chocolate? Did you try any of them?”
Venus looked at the sad empty box and started putting the stray chocolate wrappers into it.
“I got the box. It looks so fancy, but I haven’t opened it yet.”
“I ordered them from this artsy chocolatier that has unusual flavors like saffron and rose water. I think you’ll like them.”
Venus got out of bed, carrying the box.
“Yum, can’t wait to try them. You’re so thoughtful.”
“It takes one to know one. Okay, gotta run. Have a meeting in a few. See you Friday. Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
Hanging up, Venus surveyed the bed and floor to make sure there were no empty wrappers left behind.
Then, quickly, she headed to the kitchen and grabbed a large recycling bag.
She dumped the chocolate box in it and walked towards the trash can which was overflowing with all kinds of candy, cookie, and cake wrappers. She dumped those in the recycling bag as well and secured it with two fierce knots.
She scanned the kitchen, making sure she had not left any evidence behind.
Nothing.
She let out a sigh and said, “Siri, play Vivaldi.”
Classical music was her constant refuge. She would let it linger in the air and wash over her nerves.
As she listened to 'La Primavera' and relaxed, her gaze drifted to her favorite painting on the dining room wall. Sandro Botticelli’s "Birth of Venus".
The painting was supposed to be more meaningful that day. A congratulatory reminder of her existence from the goddess she was named after. Instead, she felt the goddess was mocking her for the shameful night before.
She escaped to the dressing room to change. Only to find her self-scrutiny intensified within its mirrored walls that reflected with brutal honesty.
Apparent were a subtle swell of her stomach, and a telltale puffiness around her eyes. She turned, observing her thighs. At least no changes there.
She could still fit into her clothes. Of course, she could. But what would she wear? What does one wear on her special day, she wondered.
She looked at her favorite dresses, and then, as if the day hadn’t started dramatically enough, she remembered. She couldn’t wear any of her dresses. Absolutely not.
Today was the day of her interview at Bayside Hospital. The place where she'd envisioned herself working ever since she was a teenager; her dream job.
She looked at her watch. Eight twenty-nine. Her heart sank. The interview was at nine.
No time for self-pity. Every second counted.
She looked at her formal wardrobe. Silk blouses peeked from their designated shelves. Their delicate fabrics and understated patterns hinted at a quiet femininity beneath the professional facade.
Rows of gleaming pumps, in classic black and pops of unexpected color, stood poised on a lower shelf, ready to conquer any meeting or conference room.
A single impeccably tailored blazer hung center stage, its sharp lines a testament to quiet authority.
But Venus had no time to ponder. She picked out a navy skirt and dark blue blouse. She had never thrown an outfit together this fast.
She ran to the bathroom. Her hair, usually styled in elegant waves, was yanked back into a messy bun secured with the first pin she could find.
A glance in the mirror confirmed the precarious state of her hair bun, but there was no time for adjustments.
She picked up her purse and shoved her feet into the closest pair of flats.
As she raced to the door, she remembered makeup. Oh well, this was an interview for a nutritionist, not a runway model, she told herself.
But there was one thing she could not forget. Getting rid of the recycling bag. That was a must. So that she could forget all about last night.
With a final yank on the door, Venus headed out, carrying the large recycling bag like a chubby baby.
At the apartment building's communal recycling area, she cast a furtive glance around, then dumped the bag in the bin and slammed the lid shut.
A feeling of relief washed over her. Now she could concentrate on what mattered.
She envisioned herself at the interview, as a picture of calm competence. She got this. After all, no one deserved the Senior Nutritionist position at Bayside more than her.
A bachelor's degree in biochemistry and a master's degree in food nutrition, both from an Ivy League school and top of her class - this was just the foundation. She also had a decade of clinical research experience and stellar recommendations from respected colleagues.
Maybe landing this job on her birthday was meant to be. The stars were aligned and ready to grant her heart's desire, she thought.
Suddenly, a vision of Botticelli’s Venus flickered in her mind. "Think you’ll be the Senior Nutritionist at Bayside? Think again. You're a fraud! A shimmering facade masking a mess. This dream will turn to dust in your hands, just like the cookies I watched you consume last night."
Goddess Venus was right. Human Venus was an imposter. A nutritionist with a secret sugar addiction and major binge disorder. A secret that she had kept from everyone, including her beloved husband.
No one knew that she craved and consumed the very foods she told others were detrimental to their health. Frosting-laden cakes, creamy dreamy shakes, and brightly colored candies that she had learned, through biochemistry courses, were almost toxic for human consumption.
Her confidence faltered as the weight of her secret pressed down on her. The steps that moments ago seemed light and purposeful now felt heavy, each one a reminder of the lie she was living.
But slowing down wasn't an option. She was already running late.
What she needed now was a release from the suffocating guilt and shame. To numb herself, to become emotionally empty. Yes, EMPTY…. like the box of chocolate she woke up next to.

Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory

Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.

All Buyouts are listed in cash value.

KNIVES

★ Butterfly Knife Lore (Factory New), B/O: $7194.77

★ Butterfly Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2025.74

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★ M9 Bayonet Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $557.87

★ M9 Bayonet Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $529.41

★ M9 Bayonet Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $465.39

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★ Talon Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $1295.27

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth (Minimal Wear), B/O: $746.28

★ Karambit Bright Water (Field-Tested), B/O: $688.15

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★ Flip Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $547.93

★ Flip Knife Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $476.69

★ Flip Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $278.18

★ Flip Knife Black Laminate (Well-Worn), B/O: $258.83

★ Flip Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $181.64

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★ Stiletto Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $686.04

★ Stiletto Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $665.41

★ Stiletto Knife, B/O: $601.39

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $418.25

★ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $227.80

★ Stiletto Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.96

★ Stiletto Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $192.79

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★ Nomad Knife Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $518.11

★ Nomad Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $169.78

★ Nomad Knife Forest DDPAT (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $166.88

★ StatTrak™ Nomad Knife Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $335.79

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★ Skeleton Knife Stained (Well-Worn), B/O: $442.05

★ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Minimal Wear), B/O: $426.24

★ Skeleton Knife Boreal Forest (Field-Tested), B/O: $314.03

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2361.28

★ StatTrak™ Skeleton Knife Urban Masked (Field-Tested), B/O: $376.53

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★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $557.12

★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $471.42

★ Ursus Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $212.37

★ Ursus Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $187.66

★ Ursus Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $178.18

★ Ursus Knife Ultraviolet (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $155.13

★ Ursus Knife Boreal Forest (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.26

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★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Minimal Wear), B/O: $204.83

★ Huntsman Knife Black Laminate (Field-Tested), B/O: $184.50

★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Lore (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $224.11

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★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $2142.02

★ Bowie Knife, B/O: $230.44

★ Bowie Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $209.20

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.51

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

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★ Falchion Knife Night (Field-Tested), B/O: $132.54

★ Falchion Knife Urban Masked (Well-Worn), B/O: $112.81

★ Falchion Knife Scorched (Field-Tested), B/O: $108.81

★ Falchion Knife Forest DDPAT (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.82

★ Falchion Knife Safari Mesh (Field-Tested), B/O: $107.46

★ StatTrak™ Falchion Knife Ultraviolet (Field-Tested), B/O: $143.08

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★ Paracord Knife Crimson Web (Minimal Wear), B/O: $486.48

★ Paracord Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $163.12

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★ Survival Knife Blue Steel (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $138.26

★ Survival Knife Night Stripe (Field-Tested), B/O: $131.03

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★ Gut Knife Sapphire (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1127.79

★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $286.17

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $246.55

★ Gut Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $240.77

★ Gut Knife, B/O: $210.49

★ Gut Knife Lore (Field-Tested), B/O: $194.22

★ Gut Knife Case Hardened (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $151.51

★ Gut Knife Blue Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.94

★ Gut Knife Rust Coat (Well-Worn), B/O: $118.99

★ Gut Knife Boreal Forest (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.80

★ StatTrak™ Gut Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $237.96

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★ Shadow Daggers Gamma Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $264.92

★ Shadow Daggers Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $253.03

★ Shadow Daggers Tiger Tooth (Factory New), B/O: $237.22

★ Shadow Daggers Crimson Web (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.40

★ Shadow Daggers Autotronic (Minimal Wear), B/O: $144.42

★ Shadow Daggers Blue Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $105.20

★ StatTrak™ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $150.46

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★ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $365.99

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Factory New), B/O: $228.93

★ Navaja Knife Marble Fade (Factory New), B/O: $227.43

★ Navaja Knife Slaughter (Factory New), B/O: $209.06

★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $203.16

★ Navaja Knife Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $132.57

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Factory New), B/O: $121.69

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Minimal Wear), B/O: $109.95

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $100.41

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Fade (Factory New), B/O: $369.01

★ StatTrak™ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel (Field-Tested), B/O: $109.95

GLOVES

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious (Minimal Wear), B/O: $2394.67

★ Sport Gloves Omega (Well-Worn), B/O: $572.33

★ Sport Gloves Bronze Morph (Minimal Wear), B/O: $338.88

★ Sport Gloves Big Game (Field-Tested), B/O: $323.66

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★ Specialist Gloves Marble Fade (Minimal Wear), B/O: $1652.07

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike (Field-Tested), B/O: $599.14

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web (Well-Worn), B/O: $231.57

★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot (Minimal Wear), B/O: $126.21

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★ Moto Gloves POW! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $996.99

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Field-Tested), B/O: $383.31

★ Moto Gloves POW! (Well-Worn), B/O: $276.00

★ Moto Gloves Turtle (Field-Tested), B/O: $180.28

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★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Minimal Wear), B/O: $502.29

★ Hand Wraps Giraffe (Minimal Wear), B/O: $180.73

★ Hand Wraps CAUTION! (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $178.32

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★ Driver Gloves Queen Jaguar (Minimal Wear), B/O: $181.01

★ Driver Gloves Rezan the Red (Field-Tested), B/O: $101.66

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★ Broken Fang Gloves Jade (Field-Tested), B/O: $127.88

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point (Minimal Wear), B/O: $124.55

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★ Bloodhound Gloves Guerrilla (Minimal Wear), B/O: $127.94

★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened (Field-Tested), B/O: $102.55

WEAPONS

AK-47 X-Ray (Well-Worn), B/O: $478.95

AUG Hot Rod (Factory New), B/O: $425.83

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Hyper Beast (Factory New), B/O: $413.95

M4A4 Daybreak (Factory New), B/O: $309.51

StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge (Factory New), B/O: $305.43

AK-47 Case Hardened (Well-Worn), B/O: $196.38

StatTrak™ M4A4 Temukau (Minimal Wear), B/O: $174.64

P90 Run and Hide (Field-Tested), B/O: $167.03

AWP Asiimov (Field-Tested), B/O: $153.33

Souvenir SSG 08 Death Strike (Minimal Wear), B/O: $140.00

M4A1-S Printstream (Battle-Scarred), B/O: $124.70

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Golden Coil (Field-Tested), B/O: $117.48

AWP Asiimov (Well-Worn), B/O: $115.97

StatTrak™ Desert Eagle Printstream (Minimal Wear), B/O: $112.96

StatTrak™ AK-47 Asiimov (Minimal Wear), B/O: $110.85

Souvenir M4A1-S Master Piece (Well-Worn), B/O: $102.42

AK-47 Bloodsport (Minimal Wear), B/O: $100.53

Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory

Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Wicked Sick, Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Ramese's Reach, Umbral Rabbit, Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Apep's Curse, Re.built, Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Mummy's Rot, Rebel, Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Banana Cannon, Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Fragments, Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Black Nile, Duality, Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Steel Delta, Head Shot, Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Waters of Nephthys, Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Eye of Horus, Temukau, Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Emphorosaur-S, Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Cyberforce, Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (ScaraB Rush, Neoqueen, Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Sakkaku, Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Wild Child, Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Featherweight, Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Liquidation, Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Sobek's Bite, Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Copper Coated, Insomnia, Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - 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Hello everyone, I hope you are doing well!
Recently I commented under a post about tips and tricks to improve physical appearance and it seems that a few people liked my advice, so I figured I could transform that one comment into a whole post so more people can have access to it.
I am a 26 year old Southern European girly, I have learned a few things here and there that I would I like to share with you. This is by no means a step by step guide, but rather a helping hand that can provide some support or advice. This is for everyone, younger girls and older girls, from everywhere and all walks of life. Take from this post what works for you, and leave the rest.
Small disclaimer, these are tips and tricks that have personally worked for me. I don't believe there is one way to look or feel good, rather this is more for girlies who feel a bit lost style wise and need some minor guidance. My focus is more on healthy rather than pretty, since I do believe that if you feel good on the inside, you will also feel good on the outside.
Enjoy, and please do let me know if you need any more specific advice/tips, I am happy to help!
***

Face

• Skin: Keep it simple, keep it consistent, keep it adapted to your skin needs. Consult with a dermatologist or just do your own research at home (that's what I did!). It took me a while to figure out the products that work for me and the routine. I won't recommend any specific products because each product works very differently. What works for me might not work for you even if we have the same skin type/concerns. My main issues are the occasional spot, big pores and dull skin.
  • Night Time: I do a double cleanse at night (oil followed by water cleanser), use retinol, and moisturiser. Vaseline is a game changer if you have any dry or irritations spots on your face. My under eye area is very sensitive and irritates easily with products, and Vaseline is the only thing that works. Also apply Vaseline on your lips before bedtime, you will have the softest lips when you wake up.
  • Morning Time: I don't cleanse my face in the morning because otherwise it would get very dry. I wash with cold water, then Vitamin C serum, moisturizer (I love the Roche Posay Cicaplast Baume), and a generous amount of SPF.
  • One thing I recommend a lot, is that if a product works well on your skin, you should stop using it after a few months to make sure your face doesn't get used it and decreases its efficiency. I rotate between 2-3 products, and switch them whenever I finish a product.

​

• Teeth: Brush twice a day and floss daily. Trust me on this. Flossing is a game changer to make your teeth healthier and whiter. I won't recommend any whitening products because I don't use them as my teeth are very sensitive. But if possible try to schedule an appointment with an hygienist once a year to get your teeth cleaned and remove any buildup. This is super important. And remember that healthy teeth >>> white teeth.

​

• Eyes/Eyebrow
  • If you want to add an extra step to your routine, I recommend getting a lashlift, it lasts around 8 weeks, looks very natural and elegant, and make your eyes pop. You have smaller eyes (like I do), I really recommend this. You can also ask to do a lash tint so your lashes appear even longer. When you do go to a salon do make sure that it has good reviews (ie hygiene), and also make sure that they test all the products on your hand beforehand, so you don't have an allergic reaction in your eyes.
  • Getting your eyebrows done is definitely a game changer. I don't do any permanent or semi permanent treatments, other than getting my brows professionally plucked. I like

​

• Makeup: I like simple makeup (with the main reason being that I don't know how to do more complicated makeup). The good thing about simple makeup is that everyone looks good with it, and really gives you a confidence boost. I use a skin tint (MAC has a nice one, and Maybelline too) that gives the skin a bit of a glow with some concealer under the eyes and to hide spots. I like adding bit of blush (Rare Beauty is quite nice), some mascara, a bit of eyebrow gel (from Benefit Cosmetics), and a clear lip oil (I really like the Clarins one).
  • If I am going out, I do the same routine but I make it more intense. For example, I use a darker blush on my cheeks (MAC Swiss Chocolate), a dark brown lip liner as lipstick with the lip oil, and I also use a bit of shimmer on my eyelids to make them pop (I have very dark brown eyes). I will also use a setting spray in between steps along with setting powder to make it last longer.

Body

• Regarding getting fit, there is no easy way out. It will take months of consistently working out and following specific food regimens. If you can, I would advise getting a personal trainenutritionist to at least get you started on a meal and exercise plan. Having a healthy, and strong body will make you feel so confident and good.
• I would recommend getting a blood test to check on your vitals and make sure you don't have any deficiencies (regarding vitamins or hormones). Taking supplements can really boost your energy and improve your health. Magnesium with Vitamin D is great and has a lot of benefits, but please check with a doctor first.
• Some things help a lot with body confidence like getting your nails done (hands and feet!). Trust me. Get a simple semi permanent gel polish in milky white on both your hands and feet, it looks super natural, lasts for weeks, and makes your hands and feet look amazing and fresh.
• Body care: I recommend using a body brush when you shower, it will make your skin feel really smooth, and you suffer from body acne it will help. Tip: don't keep in the shower and clean your brush regularly, so bacteria doesn't accumulate, and cause issues. After the shower, I like using the Ordinary Glycolic Acid toner on my body, followed by a body oil (I recommend Bio Oil). It makes my skin look amazing, soft and minimises stretch marks, scars and hyperpigmentation. When I go out, I like using Nuxe Or to make things a bit more extra. I like being shiny. I also like using a body moisturiser on my elbows, feet, knees where the skin can get a bit more dry.
• For hair removal, I get laser done since it's quite cheap where I'm from. We Southern Europeans are very very very hairy. It honestly has been a game changer. I know it's not available to a lot of people but it's something that does work really well, specially if you have fair skin and dark hair.

Hair

• I have wavy hair, so this advice will not be useful to a lot of people. I thing hair with layers looks great, and I have my hair cut with long bangs and layers since I was 15 years old. I recently got a bit chop, right above my shoulders and I am embracing my natural hair colour. I kept the layers and I think it makes easy to style and maintain.
• I recommend getting a haircut every 3 months, just the tips to keep it healthy. I also use Argan oil on my hair tips, and rosemary water on my scalp before I wash it. My washing routine is very standard otherwise with a shampoo that focused on scalp care. I do a hair mask once a week, and don't use any conditioner because it doesn't work for me at all.
• I don't use any heat except hairdryer. If I want to give it a bit of more volume I use a round brush and some curling rolls to style it and make my waves more... wavy I suppose.

Style

• Find clothes that fit you well, and more importantly that you feel confident in. You don't need to wait until you have your 'perfect' body. Get clothes that suit your body type, your complexion. There are some threads on Reddit that I think can help with that.
• I like going on Pinterest and look for outfit inspiration. I also follow a few instagram accounts that focus on creating different outfits, and they even link the items. I use this less to buy new things but more to see if I can use items I already own and style them differently.
• I am very much a basics girl, I think nothing looks better than a well fitting blouse/top with straight jeans and either sneakers/ankle boots. T-shirt/jeans combo is honestly a classic that looks good on everyone as long as the clothes fit well. I don't usually follow a lot of trends because they don't really work for me. I think it's important to keep basics in your closet that will always be in style. Think basic t-shirts, long and short sleeved (in white, black, grey), some form fitting, other loose. Get some straight jeans in different washes. You can create so many different outfits, and it works for both the day and night time. When I go out for drinks, I use a white tight t-shirt and some dark blue jeans with ankle boots. It's simple but it works! Trust me ;)
• Jewellery: I re-use the same jewellery every day. And if you want to start wearing more, try getting some good quality but affordable pieces that always look good and you can use during the day and night. Think some small silver hoops, or gold, maybe a small ear cuff, and a simple necklace. I like using rings on my index fingers, they are quite simple, but look elegant, specially with the milky white nails.

Hope this helps! I might add some edits here and there as I remember more things!

Hi all,
I grind my teeth at night for a few years now (sometimes chirping as I do and it wakes up my partner). I have the following symptoms and I was wondering if these are related, or due to something more serious.

1. Dull headache with full feeling. Often there is pain around my jaw bones but also up into my temples and other parts of my head. It’s both sides of the head often but sometimes more on one side.
   
2. Dizziness that comes on suddenly or gradually depending on the day. This can last and define the whole day sometimes. Head feels wobbly.
   
3. Trouble looking left to right suddenly (moving head side to side). Some dizziness episodes have been triggered by this.
   
4. Nausea, regardless of lying down or sitting.
   
5. Wobbly hands and feet sometimes.
   
6. Tinnitus in left ear for almost 2 years now.
   

Any advice or confirmation from others about these symptoms would be greatly appreciated as my mind wanders to more serious issues often, and unfortunately it’s not so simple to get a brain scan here.
Thank you

Hi all,
I grind my teeth at night for a few years now (sometimes chirping as I do and it wakes up my partner). I have the following symptoms and I was wondering if these are related, or due to something more serious.

1. Dull headache with full feeling. Often there is pain around my jaw bones but also up into my temples and other parts of my head. It’s both sides of the head often but sometimes more on one side.
   
2. Dizziness that comes on suddenly or gradually depending on the day. This can last and define the whole day sometimes. Head feels wobbly.
   
3. Trouble looking left to right suddenly (moving head side to side). Some dizziness episodes have been triggered by this.
   
4. Nausea, regardless of lying down or sitting.
   
5. Wobbly hands and feet sometimes.
   
6. Tinnitus in left ear for almost 2 years now.
   

Any advice or confirmation from others about these symptoms would be greatly appreciated as my mind wanders to more serious issues often, and unfortunately it’s not so simple to get a brain scan here.
Thank you

My husband (48) suffered an ischemic stroke (lacunar) in the basal ganglia 10 days ago. Fortunately being where it was, he never had any cognitive or speech issues. His right arm, hand, and part of the face are affected, but in these 10 days he has regained feeling everywhere but the fingers (still tingling) and part of his cheek/gums. He is walking 200 feet a day with a walker and can walk without the walker but PT isn’t pushing that right now. He can stand and sit fairly smoothly now and lift the arm wherever he wants it and hold it there. Hand is primarily offline but he can squeeze with a pretty strong grip. He was basically completely paralyzed in those first 10 hours.
I guess I’m just wondering if anyone else out there had a similar amount of progress early on and what your journey has been like. All of the physical and occupational therapists have been really encouraging about his prognosis for a “full” recovery, but I’m just not sure what that means or what is realistic. It’s hard to gauge the severity of his stroke. Of course I know all strokes are different, just looking to hear others’ stories!

Part 1
Chicago, 2016. Flinn Gerald is doing his best to make it in the city. Born in Selma, Alabama, he has spent his entire life trying to escape the ever tightening grasp of his small town. But alas, he made it out and is adapting to life in the big city. With a big fancy corporate job, an endless supply of friends, an apartment with a stunning view of the lake, and great distance from his family, what more could he need? Well, there is a lot more (or less) that he needs, but of course that is a story for later.
On a typical Tuesday night at a bar, the regulars crowd in. Flinn is late, as usual, as he stayed late at work (again), but on his arrival, the cheers and hugs from all the friends make everyone forget of the regular inconvenience. Conversation ensued, starting with all the boring finance jargon, but as the drinks flowed, so did the conversation, moving away from work and more into life. This is what everyone preferred.
“Another round, anyone?” asked Raheem, enthusiastically. After a murmur of concurrence, he stood up to make his way up to the bar. “Flinn, care to lend a hand?”
Raheem Bartlett was Flinn’s college roommate and the first person he met outside of his hometown. The pair hit it off instantly despite having wildly different backgrounds. Even in their freshman year, the engineer and the finance major would get into all sorts of trouble together, but eventually they leveled out. Six years later, they still have each other’s backs just like day one.
The pair made their way up to the bar and waited to get the bartender's attention. “What's up with you, bro?” asked Raheem. “You’ve been seeming a bit off.”
“Oh, ya know. Work, life, everything kinda happens so fast. Work has been busy as of late, and the hours long.”
Seeming displeased by this answer, Raheem stared back in concern.
“Really, I’m fine… just long hours.”
“Back in school you’d pull back to back all-nighters and then still make it to a morning class. I find it hard to believe that the mighty Flinn would be so setback by ‘long hours’.”
Flinn took a moment to ponder, staring down at the bar covered in various stamps and postcards beneath the epoxy surface. “I guess, ya know, it's not all it was cracked up to be. I guess I had expected more.” Flinn had mostly dropped his accent, but occasionally it would still slip out.
Despite coming from a long line of mill workers (mostly paper) and farm hands who never ventured further than the Dallas county line, Flinn yearned to leave his small town and conquer the world from a young age. Coming from the poorest county in Alabama, his family always squashed his dreams, labeling them as impossible. But Flinn knew better. Or, at least he knew he could do better. Graduating top of his class a year early and winning a full-ride scholarship to Northwestern University, he had proved everyone wrong and set his own path. The path he was told was impossible became his reality.
“More what?”
“Nothing, really. I mean, what more is there? This is what I always wanted, right? The stable job in the city, never having to worry about money. It’s great, and I couldn’t be more grateful, but… something is missing. Doing the same thing day after day staring at a screen, moving clients money around. I… just hoped it would be more fulfilling, especially after all it took to get here.”
Before he could finish his thought, the bartender came up to take their order: another round for the table, plus a round of shots, plus two more shots.
“What am I saying, really?” added Flinn. “I shouldn’t be complaining. Look at where I am now compared to six years ago. So much has changed. My home, friends, even my diet. I just feel a bit off. Like I need something more to do..
“I get it, bro. Adjusting to your new life can be rough. Enjoy it for a minute or two.” Raheem slides a shot in front of Flinn. “Here, take this.”
Tuesday had become fairly consistent to this point for this group of misfits: Raheem and his girlfriend Amy; Jack; Jasper, from Flinn’s firm, and his wife Max; and of course, Flinn. For nearly two years, these six have been meeting at O’Malley’s every Tuesday night for drinks and trivia. Some nights are more wild than others, but Tuesday has become the staple of the week among them.
Drinks flowed pretty regularly and heavy over the next few hours as the clock approached the end of day. Still going round for round on alternating tabs, the useless debates began to heat up.
“You can’t seriously think Wicker Park is the best neighborhood outside the Loop. Y’all need to get out more,” said Flinn.
“Bro it’s obviously Wicker Park,” argued Raheem.” Right on the blue line, getting to O’Hare is insanely easy, plus you can’t find better music in the city. Besides, Wicker Park has Davenport’s.”
“No one ever says Wicker Park,” adds Jack. “Have you ever heard someone say Wicker Park before?”
“Dude, but you can obviously get to O’Hare from anywhere in the city,” said Flinn
“Sure, but beats walking through that dumb Block 37 Center transfer like you and your red line. No transfer is the way to go, plus the blue line gets you right to the center of the loop.”
“So does every other L line as long as ya don’t mind walking a few blocks!”
“You’re both wrong,” adds Max. “Neither matters because Midway is better anyways.”
“Woah!” the whole table murmurs, sharing shocked looks as if she just confessed to a crime. Flinn rolled his eyes at this notion.
“Who flies out of Midway?” asks Raheem.
“What? Less people, cheaper flights, and more space. Why wouldn’t I fly out of Midway?” said Max.
“Wait, wait, that aside,” interrupts Raheem, “can we go back to the fact that Jasper thinks Sheffield is the best neighborhood? I feel like we moved past that too quickly.”
The debate rages on for many more minutes, until Flinn, seemingly out of nowhere, had enough.
“Can y’all just shut the fuck up! Why does it even matter?” Everyone’s glance quickly shot over to Flinn as a deafening silence overtook the table. Everyone pondered how to respond, and couldn’t seem to find an answer. This behavior from Flinn was unexpected, nay, unheard of. Flinn was the most level headed amongst them by far. Not even Raheem, his best friend of six years, had ever seen him get angry, let alone over an inconsequential friendly argument. “I…” Not even Flinn knew what to say next. “I’m going to go home. Long day tomorrow.” Already on his feet, he quickly walked away from the table and out the door.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The walk home was fairly brisk, but Flinn had grown fond of the cold. He tucked his hands into his coat pocket and hunched his shoulders forward, only looking down at the pavement ignoring the mostly asleep but still wide awake city surrounding him. His thoughts ran wild and near out of control. Of course, his intoxication did not help with clarity, but the inner dialogue was deafening. Not even he knew what was bothering him, but he was obviously bothered, deeply. He made a fool of himself in a way he never had before, and right now he felt he did not recognize himself. Surely some sleep will help, right?
He slowly made his way down the steps to the platform, carefully watching each step as to not fall, to wait for his train. He posted up against a pillar and stared off onto the dark, empty tracks. What has gotten into me? He did his best to calm his racing, wasted mind searching for some legibility amongst his thoughts.
Once he finally got home, he slumped down on the couch and scarfed down some week-old sushi he found in the fridge. He turned on some old documentary and was asleep before he knew it.
Suddenly, he was woken up by his phone ringing. It usually does not ring this time of night and was less than thrilled to be woken, so he let it keep ringing. It stopped after a couple of seconds, and he glanced down at the screen:
Mama
(2) missed calls
Dad
(1) missed call
Now concerned, he calls his mom back in a hurry. “Hello?”
“Flinn? Your grandfather, he’s dead.”
Part 2
The wet air engulfed Flinn’s face as he stepped out the airport doors into a warm February day. Six years had passed since he smelled the Alabama air. Even after all this time, it still smells just as he had remembered as if not even a day had passed. The drive to Selma was another ninety minutes, and despite having five days to mentally prepare himself for his arrival, it was not nearly enough time. He had not seen or spoken to anyone from his town, not even family, since he left early that August morning all those years ago. He left everything behind to start his new life. The life so many told him to not start, that he needed to stay. He left anyway and never looked back.
That was, until now. He had little choice in this regard. He knew he would have to make his return someday, but he knew not when nor for what. But today was that day. Flinn and his grandfather (Pops) had always been close. If anyone had been supportive of him, it’d have been Pops, but he was a man of little words. Even when he could talk, he hardly chose to. He was a great listener, and not just because he could not speak. He showed he was engaged and listening no matter what Flinn had to say. At times, he felt Pops was the only one who understood him as if he had been just like him before, but no one would ever talk about his past. All Flinn knew is Pops lost his tongue after a failed lynching.
The familiarity of the scenery zipping past was bittersweet. He had not realized how much he missed the rolling hills and thick forests beneath the unforgiving southern sky. He kept his head pressed against the cool glass of the car window even through the constant bumps in the road. He couldn’t look away. So many memories happened here, and the closer he got, the more plentiful the memories became, and the more potent they were, and the more painful they’d become.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the dust settled behind him, he stood on the driveway staring at his childhood home still unsure how to process his emotions. It was all so overwhelming. He was thinking everything at once. He took a deep breath, rolled back his shoulders, and swallowed. He reached for the door handle, hesitating slightly, and took a step in. One foot, and then the next.
“Martin!” Flinn smiled as his old friend and childhood dog rushed towards him without hesitation. He knelt down and embraced him as Martin excitedly rustled through his arms seemingly showing more energy than he had in years.
He walked down the hall and around the corner into the living room. There, both drawn to the large television like moths to a flame, he saw his parents sitting beside one another on the couch watching some daytime program with their backs to him. They seemed to pay no notice to the commotion at the front door nor the loud creaking footsteps he took along the old wooden floors. They knew he was there; they just chose to ignore him. He walked into view to greet them. "Mama, dad." His father smiled slightly but caught himself and refrained.
Mama kept a straight face, but seemed to be fighting tears."Howard, help Flinn with his bags, dear."
“No, it's alright, I know where to take them,” said Flinn. “How are y’all?”
“Service is tomorrow at eleven down at the ole First Baptist Church. Make sure to wear something nice.”
“Alright, mama. I’ll... I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Whole family is coming tonight. Dinner is served at...”
“At seven, I got it, just as always.”
“It’s good to see you, kid.” said his dad. “Let me know if you need anything”
He did not expect things to go like that, not that he knew what to expect. He had hoped time would have been more forgiving. Perhaps leaving unannounced in the middle of the night was not the best plan, but at the time he felt as if he had no other choice. Everyone knew he was leaving. That was no secret and had not been for years before any plan had actually been set into motion. No one knew the date or time, except for Pops, of course, but he’d never tell. Of course he wanted everyone to know. He wanted everyone to be proud of him, but it was too big of a risk and commendations were too much to expect. Besides, Mama always had her schemes, and had she known, she would have found a way to stop him.
Not much had changed since he’d been here last. The old wood paneling still lined nearly all the walls, crack in some spots, replaced in others, but all coated by decades of cigarette soot. On the walls were a combination of family portraits from over the years and cheap artwork found at the flea market. Old green furniture, too many house plants to count, and a tacky themed kitchen, it was all still the same.
His childhood bedroom, however, was much different. Hardly even recognizable, what was once his bedroom was now a storage room filled with endless shelves and boxes. He set his things on the lonely cot in the corner, sat down, and took it all in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not realizing he had drifted off, Flinn awoke and looked at the clock. 6:55. Convenient. He sat up and brushed his hair down with his hand as he suspected it was sticking up in the usual way. He rubbed his eyes and made his way to the dining room. The whole family was there, probably about twenty people or so, all scattered about throughout the kitchen, dining room, and living room engaged in various conversations. His nana, aunt, and Mama were cooking away putting the final touches on the large meal.
“Well if it isn’t this fucker…” said a familiar voice to his left, laughing. Flinn looked over to see his cousin who’s just a year younger than him.
“DeAndre, how are you?”
“Never thought I’d see you again, even since you left. Thought maybe you ‘ood be dead.”
“Nah,” Flinn laughed. “Still very much alive.”
“I can see dat. Wearin’ your fancy suit and all.”
“Yeah I’ve been doing pretty well. Work has been… good. I have a great job at a finance firm in Chicago. Everything has been… Good. Yeah, good. How about you?”
“Now you ain’t goin’ city on us, are you?”
Flinn laughed. “I think I might already be.”
Just as dinner was finishing up, a line started to form and people found a seat wherever they could, be it at the table, on the couch, near the counter, or outside.
“Flinn!” his dad called out. “I saved ya a seat here at the table, kid.”
Flinn took his seat right next to his dad which positioned him right across from Mama. The table could sit eight, and the seats filled in pretty quickly so he was lucky to get one. Besides his sister, all of the oldest family members took the other four chairs.
The dinner itself was mostly uneventful, except for the food of course which was extraordinary. Flinn had not eaten Mama’s cooking, or anything like it in six years. The southern food in Chicago was alright, but nothing like what you can get down here, and no restaurant is going to have the same quality and taste as a home-cooked meal. By God, he had not realized how much he needed this. It was almost healing, like a part of his soul had been lost and he found it once again. The last week had been incredibly overwhelming, and last Saturday he never foresaw being here now, but he was glad he was, regardless of the looming tension. All the stress from work and life back home in Chicago was now all gone. All he had to worry about was… oh yeah, the family drama. The dreaded interactions, what he had suppressed for so long, that had kept him up at night for years. All those long nights doing homework or anything else beside sleeping. They had not been by choice but rather necessity. He would have slept more if he could, and some of those nights he really needed to, but instead was kept motivated by the pain. The pain of knowing no matter what he did, no matter how successful in life he became, he would never be good enough for his family, good enough for Mama, because he left them.
If there ever was a time to clear his conscience and get everything out of the way, it would be today, or at least over the next couple of days. When else would he have the chance? Not that any of this had been planned, and his therapist would probably advise against it. She did not even know he was here. What would she have to say? Avoiding conflict has always been his choice. He has always been quiet, never been at the center of drama, but some things need to be said. Just, maybe not by him. If he waited long enough, perhaps they would come up on their own. So he decided to wait, but he knew time was limited and he could not wait forever.
“Mama, could you pass the butter?”
Mama just stared back at him. “Get ya own damn buttah, since ya can do everything else on ya own.”
Flinn stands up and reaches for the butter. “I can do everything myself, and I have. I hope you’re proud, Mama.”
“Proud? What do I have to be proud of?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe my job, my degree, everything I have been able to do to build a good life for myself.”
“I don hear anything worthy of praise.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mama.”
“Oh, so now you’re sorry? You could’ve fooled me. Is that how you felt when you left? Unbelievable.”
“I left because I had no other choice.”
“Oh don go lyin’ to me now. You did have a choice. You had a choice and you chose to leave us. You didn’t say goodbye, and you were just gone in the mornin’.”
“If I had not just left, you would’ve stopped me.”
“Cause you ain’t got no reason to go nowhere.”
“I had plenty of reasons to want to leave, and not because of you. I’ve always had dreams, Mama, ya know that. I’ve always been bigger than just this town.”
“Oh, so now you’re too good for us, city boy? Huh? I don wanna hear no more of it.”
“It wasn’t about that, Mama. Look at all I’ve been able to do.”
“I ain’t see nothin’. You never call and you never visit. How am I supposed to know what you been doin’?”
“I thought you didn’t want me coming around any more?”
“Well, you’ve got that right. Glad to see you still have some brains left.”
“Well excuse me. Maybe it's best if I leave again. Sorry I ain’t make you proud, Mama.” Flinn got up and left the table.
Part 3
Just as the early light began to peak through the blinds, Flinn was woken up by a firm knock at his door. “Flinn, may I come in? It's Uncle Terrence.”
Flinn sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Yep, come in.”
“How are you this morning, kid? Ya know, she’ll never admit it, but ya Mama missed ya.”
“I find it hard to believe.” Deep down Flinn knew it was true, but she was hard as a rock, and arrogant. She would always find a way to be right, even when she knew she was wrong, and she would never let you know she knew she was wrong.
“Well, we’re all proud of you, kid.” Flinn hated when Terrence and everyone called him kid. “Just wish yoo’d come around and see us every once in a while. I know ya busy with all the big city stuff and all.”
“I thought no one wanted anything to do with me any more?”
“At first, maybe, but I miss ya, kid. Ya know who missed ya most of all?”
“Pops?”
“Yes, of course. He always wanted to know about ya, every time I’d come round. He couldn’t call, but always wanted me to.”
“I should have called.”
“I think everyone wanted to call, but as time went on, it became harder and harder to push that button. It was already so hard at first, and only got harder.”
“I thought about everyone a lot, especially at first. Leaving was really hard, and I almost didn’t, but I always wanted more. I didn’t want to spend my whole life in this town, and if I had not left when I did I probably never would have. But it was still hard. I wanted to go home so many times, but I convinced myself no one wanted me here no more or that y’all would’ve said ‘I told ya so’ or sum bullshit. No one wanted me around any more and I had left, so I was stuck on the path I chose. And I’m happy, and I’ve done so much, but it’s never been easy.”
“Pops was a lot like you when he was your age. Set on leaving as quickly as he could. Things were different back then, not that they are any better now, but Hank... my brother… Pops, was just like you.”
“What changed?”
“Well, he never did. Just no one talks about it anymore. After what happened on that day, they blamed his behavior. Said he should’ve played it safe and he’d still have his tongue.”
“No one has ever told me the story.”
“And they won’t. It changed the whole family.”
“But you’ll tell me?”
“Only if you promise not to tell. I don need an earful from ya Mama.”
“I promise.”
“Hank couldn’t be confined to Selma, just like you. He joined the army right out of high school, and after he was done in Lebanon, he didn’t go straight home.”
“Where did he go?”
“Everywhere but here. He used the small amount of money he got from the army and went anywhere that would let him in. Across Europe, parts of Asia, Northern Africa, even parts of South America. Of course, a young black man traveling by himself at the time was challenging, but Hank could hold his own pretty well. He still ran into all sorts of trouble. He spent more nights in jail than he would have liked, but he would have done it all again if he could.”
“What happened when he got back?”
“He was much different, but for the better. He couldn’t wait to get back out there again. He had confidence like I had never seen before. That’s what got him in trouble not too long after.”
“How’d he lose his tongue? I’m guessing that is what changed everything.”
“When he got back, he got involved with a girl, I think her name was Susan. She was the mayor’s daughter. They snuck around for a while. Their relationship was not acceptable, especially to her father. If he found out, Hank would be in a lot of trouble, and of course eventually he did find out. He spent about a month in jail in just awful conditions even for the time. They didn’t have anything to hold him on so eventually they had to let him go. About a week after he got out, he was walking downtown and some guys grabbed him. He took him out to a field and tried to lynch him. Luckily, they failed and he survived, but they took his tongue as a warning. He was never the same after that. All of his confidence was gone, and of course he couldn’t speak no more.”
Flinn did not know how to respond. It all made sense now: why the family so desperately wanted him to stay, why they were so hurt by him leaving, and why they’d feared who he was becoming. They were all traumatized and wanted to protect him. They did not want him to suffer the same fate as Pops.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The funeral itself was fairly uneventful and went nearly as perfectly as expected. The church filled in with hardly any empty seats, tears were shed, and speeches were given. Pops touched the lives of almost everyone he met, and they came to show it. After the service was the reception, and yet again, the food was spectacular. Everyone got along just fine today and there was no more residual drama, at least for now. Today was Pops’ day.
After the reception, the family gathered back at Mama’s house for the reading of the will. Pops did not have many possessions, at least not of monetary value, but what he did have was meaningful in other ways. He was very clear on who he wanted to give off, and handpicked what would be most substantial to each person.
Everyone gathered around much as they did at dinner, and the lawyer began his reading:
I, Hank Gerald, a resident in the City of Selma, County of Dallas, State of Alabama, being of sound mind, not acting under duress or undue influence, and fully understanding the nature and extent of all my property and of this disposition thereof, hereby make, publish, and declare this document to be my Last Will and Testament, and hereby absolutely revoke any and all other wills and amendments previously made by me.
The reading went on for some time as there were many beneficiaries. Flinn began to daydream about what could be left for him. Flinn was not a very sentimental person, so trinkets and heirlooms paid him little interest. Perhaps his car, or maybe money. Something that will be useful to him.
To my dear brother, Terrence, I leave my 1964 Pontiac GTO and all tools and parts associated and necessary with/for the running and upkeep of the vehicle.
The further down the list he went, less was given, but this is to be expected. As the end of the list neared, Flinn began to wonder what would be left for him if anything at all. The will had been in order of age, to this point, so he should be up soon.
To my Granddaughter, Nia,...
Nia? She's younger than me… Flinn thought.
I leave her my grandmother’s locket containing a picture of my Grandfather before he left for the Great War. She looked at it everyday to keep the memory of him alive until he eventually returned to her alive.
How could he skip me? Perhaps I should have called, or never left. Flinn got lost in his own thoughts and barely paid attention to the rest of the will. He and Pops were so close, and he never imagined he would be taken out of the will. But that is my own fault, afterall. I left, and I never even care to call. He died, and I never even said goodbye.
Just as Flinn began to accept the consequences of his actions, they got to the last beneficiary listed in the will:
Finally, to my oldest Grandson, Flinn, who is more and more like me than I ever could have wished to have been, I leave my journal. I hope whenever you need the motivation, you read it to find the meaning you are looking for in life.
Part 4
Flinn sat at his desk unable to focus. It was fairly slow for a Friday, but he still had work to do. After a chaotic weekend back home in Alabama, he was ready to settle back into his monotonous routine. The experience had been healing in some regards, but still left a lot unanswered. What did he mean by finding the meaning in life? Flinn wondered as he flipped through the endless pages of Pops’ journal, all filled with endless recounts, drawings, symbols, and pictures from his travels, just as he had since Monday. The journal consumed his whole attention, and nothing else seemed important enough to focus on. He had even ditched his friends all week which he never does.
He is supposed to meet Raheem for drinks tonight, but now he is wondering if he even wants to go. There is just too much in his head right now. He just wants to be alone. 12:37. The clock is moving too slowly. Flinn clears his calendar for the rest of the day and decides to go home.
At home, he still finds himself flipping through the pages of the journal, not even reading them but just looking at them. Again and again, he flips through until he has enough. He drops the journal on his lap and stares off into the distance at the gorgeous view of Lake Michigan. The endless city and skyline take up most of the horizon until it just stops, cut off by the endless ocean-like lake. He stares at it for quite a while until something catches his eye. He has seen this before. Well, of course he has. He lives here and this is his view everyday. But he knows he has seen it somewhere else.
He picks the journal back up and flips through in a hurry. There it is. He holds the journal up to the window to show a matching two-page drawing of this exact view. Well, not exact. It is a slightly different angle, but it was close enough. Pops was here. He would have loved visiting. I should have invited him. This made Flinn sad, and he threw the journal down on the table in frustration.
Just then, that is when he noticed it. There was a page sticking out from the journal, but it was not like the rest. The page was white and pristine, aside from a few wrinkles, as if it was new, whereas the rest of the journal showed its age. He rushed over to grab it. He opened it to find a letter, addressed to him:
Grandson, When you left, I knew that you would accomplish everything you set out to do. I also knew, however, you would find yourself lost someday, returning home for answers. I was hoping I’d be able to give you those answers myself, but as time goes on that seems less likely. I too found myself lost, and I knew not why. I had gone and seen the world, and it changed me, but I was still not fulfilled. I came home still looking for the answers, and it took a while, but eventually I did find them.
Through this journal, I hope to share my findings so that you too, when you are lost, find the answers you seek. Whenever you are ready, follow my journey and the clues I have left for you. Go out and see the world, just as I did. You will find that what you want from life is less than what you expect.
I hope the experiences you have are less harsh than my own, but still be careful. The world has changed a lot, but still not enough. But don’t skip ahead for the meaning may be lost. Take only one step at a time, and when it comes time to take the next step, it will reveal itself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seven o’clock rolls around and Flinn walks into the bar to meet Raheem. He hasn’t seen Raheem, or anyone else from the group, since last Tuesday when he had his outburst. He begins by telling the story of the events of this last weekend, but leaves out the parts about Pops’ past.
"Pops left me a hidden letter.”
“What do you mean?” asked Raheem.
“Like in his journal, I found a hidden letter. It was addressed to me.”
“What did it say, bro?”
“He says he was a lot like me when he was my age. He wants me to go where he went and learn what he did.”
“In Alabama?”
“No, everywhere but there. He wants me to start in Western Europe and follow his clues around the world.”
“He traveled?”
“A lot, apparently. I never knew. He was in the army, and after he got out, he traveled… everywhere, basically.”
“Why did no one tell you?”
“They wanted to keep me safe, I guess.
"They wanted to keep the whole family safe after what happened to him.”
“What do you mean, bro. What happened?”
“I can’t talk about it, but it doesn’t matter now anyways. I’m living a different life now.” Flinn never shared much about his past or his family with anyone, not even Raheem. It has always been a mystery. This was the most he had ever shared with him.
“Well, are you going to go?”
“No, I can’t. I have work. It took too much to get here. I can’t just give it away.”
“It’ll still be here when you get back, bro.”
“If only it was that simple.”
“It can be. You have money saved up. Chicago isn’t going anywhere. We’re not going anywhere. Plus, you’ve always talked about traveling more. Why don’t you take some time to do it.”
“I suppose, but I like my life here.”
“If you don’t do it now, when will you? You’ve taken a leap before, why not take another one. You’re smart, you’ll land on your feet, bro. Besides, your grandfather thought it was important enough to not only give you his journal, but hide you a letter for you to find when you needed it most. Maybe now is when you needed it most. You’re way too stressed at work anyways, and I can tell you’ve been off for a while now. Perhaps some change could give you what you need.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On Monday morning, when Flinn gets to work, he walked straight to his boss's office. He turned in his letter of resignation.
Two weeks later, he took the red line to the blue line to O’Hare. Journal in hand, he boarded a flight to Dublin.

Chapter 21:【Tales of Fire and Ice】
“Well, well well!” Crowley triumphantly announced. “Wu Zeitan has stolen Tsukuyomi’s precious scabbard and thus made him very angry! Will he get it back? Will he win? Will the fight turn out to be rigged in order to sell Tsukuyomi-themed peanut butter? All those questions will be answered!”
Upon seeing the enraged countenance of the young god on the battlefield, the King of Demons grasped his chin in thought silently, before pondering to himself with a smirk, “…Who would have thought that gods could be so attached to toys that aren’t made of flesh?”
“Oh my Nun!” Thoth gasped. “It’s beautiful! I wish I could get a closer look!”
“Ahh.” Crowley sighed. “Nothing like some good old-fashioned Grand Larceny.”
“That damn brat!” Izanagi snarled. “How dare she lay her hands on a divine treasure!” Amaterasu just watched, her smile looking almost amused.
Standing on guard nearby them was a goddess with short brownish hair and an oni mask covering her mouth, lightly armored over her kimono, an equally ornate scabbard at her hip. She put a hand to her waist and looked towards the arena in slight annoyance.
“Jeez, at least treat it with some proper respect…” she muttered, her tone sharp and irritated.
Catching the reflection of light, the sheath was subliminally visible to the entire world. It shone brighter than any platinum, encapsulated by the shadows created by the engraved design on the sheath. Holding it high above her, Wu smiled gently, like a flower amidst blossoming.
On the other side, the emperors of China fumed in various degrees of shock to apprehension.
“That girl! She’s always so materialistic!” Emperor Gaozong scolded, his knuckles white as he clutched the arms of his throne. Meanwhile, his son was almost folded entirely against the short wall between the arena and the stands, looking almost hysterical. Qin Shi Huang himself housed a frown upon his face, his brows slightly scrunched in scrutiny. Dionysus smiled almost knowingly, swirling his wine in his glass as he waited…
Distances away from the distracted empress, the young god let out a final shaking breath. He knew there would be whispers in the audience all around the castle, coming down to berate him, to affront him, to criticize him.
He refused to listen. Instead, he looked forward and sternly demanded, “Give it back! You have no right to—”
The words of the young god woke Wu from her trance and her hands snapped at the young god with such speed that it was shocking she didn’t break her own neck. Zetian rushed towards Tsukuyomi, forcing the disarmed god to instinctively take a defensive stance.
“Hahaha! I’ll beat you to death with this beauty!” The Empress proclaimed, before she swung the scabbard at Tsukuyomi’s head, forcing him to dodge to the side, at which point she delivered another, even faster strike at his waist. The sheer force of the attack knocked the god to the ground, unable to recover..
Or so she thought, before jutting her head backwards to dodge out of the way of Tsukuyomi’s roundhouse kick. “I was given more methods to defend myself than just a sword!” The moon god shouted, as his father’s words echoed in his mind:
‘What if you were to be disarmed? Do not solely rely on your weapons. Make your body itself a deadly blade.’
It was hard for him to adjust to the new style of combat…he could not rely on his innate gifts to help him. Tsukuyomi gritted his teeth, and pressed forward to master his parents’ teachings. His mother had taught him how to harness the flow of power in all things, and his father had taught him the relentless, graceful martial techniques of the angels. And now, he pressed onward, striking with both in tandem. Flowing, ferocious strikes rained down, each strike leading into another, each shift of Tsukuyomi’s feet, another barrage. The rapid offense forced Zetian to put up her guard, an amused grin on her face.
“So you want to try and beat me at my own game, eh?~ Hahaha! Bring it on then, you arrogant little shit!”
“Out of all of our glorious father’s offsprings, Tsukuyomi may well be the best when it comes to hand to hand combat.” Metatron proclaimed from the stands, earning a glorious nod from Michael. A slight, nervous-sounding giggle was heard from next to Lucifer, coming from a goddess in a white and gold kimono- she’d dressed as well as possible for this match.
“Haha…he really is. Both me and your father can attest to that. He’s always worked especially hard on it and his swordsmanship…I’m proud of him.” Izanami said. A soft smile was on her face, clearly more confident than usual as she watched her son fighting in the arena.
Lucifer breathed a deep sigh next to them, gaze glued to his son. “If only Tsukuyomi understood that himself. He focuses so much on what he can’t do that he overlooks what he can…”
Back in the arena, Tsukuyomi dropped low and dragged his foot, attempting to sweep out Wu’s legs from his position. However, the Empress jumped away laughing, having the time of her life. “Hahaha! So fun!” She spun the scabbard in her hand, taunting the moon god further with its presence.
Tsukuyomi looked more determined than ever, raising his eyes from the ground. “I can do this…”
“I can reclaim it,” his conviction echoed. However, mired with the light that shone from the gluttonous eyes of the Empress who had claimed his scabbard, he had forgotten the true purpose of their showdown. A corner of Wu's lips twitched.
Tsukuyomi jumped to his feet and charged to grapple her, opening his arms wide.
“Kyaa!” She yelped, causing several members of the audience to gape in shock. “The pervert is trying to grope me!”
The moon god’s face tinged red. “N-no, I-” He started, abashed. Sensing the release of tension in the god’s arms, Wu struck.
“Just kidding~ You’re mine!” Wu grinned as she bashed the god’s face in with his scabbard, several teeth flying out of his mouth joined with spots of blood. As his senses were clouded, the empress wound her legs back, and sent her powerful knee toward the god’s defenseless stomach. At the last second, Tsukuyomi raised his forearm to block the strike, while his opponent drew distance between them with the tap of her boots as her feet met with the ground.
“E-eh…?!” Izanami stammered, clearly caught off guard and very much concerned. She blinked a couple of times as if trying to process what she had just seen.
Dionysus gorged himself on another glass of crimson wine before letting out a childlike giggle. “Ahh~ Such an intimate fight~ My favorite~ They only lack oil on their bodies~”
Qin Shi Huang raised an eyebrow at him. “This isn’t that sort of fight. But you would wish it was, wouldn’t you?”
“Let's play some more!” Wu exclaimed to the heavens, before rushing at Tsukuyomi with her heart aflame.
The moon god was still flustered. “Is.. is this just a game for you?” Then, his face hardened. “I suppose that's better for me then…”
His life flashed before him as his precious sheath ripped through the air towards his face. The wild empress swang it with an unparalleled, furious desire. Tsukuyomi brought his palm up and directed the blow above him, before he swung his left arm upwards, with the momentum gained- towards the side of Zetian’s disabled arm. His strike landed square on the empress’ jaw; causing her to rip her arm back up and hit Tsukuyomi with utterly explosive force, a force that was much to her surprise, only able to knock him a couple of feet away. Tsukuyomi shoved her back into a clumsy stumble as she looked down at her arm with utter shock. The arm that had performed the whip-like strike had been cleanly dislocated, and despite Zetian’s martial prowess and strength, it wouldn’t be moving anytime soon. This was Tsukuyomi’s chance.
‘No matter how much you dull the pain you receive, you’re still no more durable than usual. You can trick your brain, but not your body…’ A sense of confidence captured Tsukuyomi’s mind for a fraction of a second, before he became focused once more. While Wu stared at her arm with a blank yet curious look, Tsukuyomi jumped forward and brought his hands to the sheath. She snapped out of her dazed state and attempted to grip it further, but the young god did something unexpected.
His hand went to the opening of the sheath, and from it, he drew a pearlescent blade of light into his hands.
“I swear, everyone gets an infinite sword generator nowadays!” Crowley mused.
Izanami smiled, watching her son go back on the offensive. “Umm…You’ve got this! Don’t back down!”
Pushing his leg back and raising the blade, Tsukuyomi then launched himself towards the retreating Wu and sliced down at the remains of her garment with chilling precision. Occasional blows would tear at her flesh and freeze the blood into crystals of dreadful gore. Her movements remained unsteady due to his earlier dazing strike- and Tsukuyomi took full advantage, slashing rapidly with his blade of light. His attacks were precise, intended to land as many blows as possible while Wu’s defenses were staggered, targeting the areas where she was faltering the most.
‘This is going somewhat well, but to think I would fight this sloppily…’ Tsukuyomi chastised himself internally, his sorrowful demeanor resurging. He wanted to end the fight as soon as possible. And he seized the chance to do it at this very moment, he circled behind Wu and brought his foot round to Wu’s hip with melancholy vigor, knocking the empress to her knees, before using his momentum and full strength to swing his blade towards her exposed neck. But just in time, Wu fully recovered from her daze and hastily moved the sheath to stop her foe’s blade. Sparks flashed as Tsukuyomi’s arms trembled. Through the cool air, there was a small noise that resounded, a very distinct crack. As Tsukuyomi gazed up at the place where their blows met, his eyes blew wide with realization.
Where the wings of an Angel were engraved on the sheath, a light fracture began to emerge upon their midline. Sparks fell to the ground in mourning as a burst of emotion encompassed Tsukuyomi’s mind. His vision tunneled, staring solely at that fracture in horror. A shaky breath escaped him. ‘No, no! Father!’ He wished to turn to look through the castle windows at his father at this moment, but he could not let himself move. ‘I’m sorry…! I didn’t mean to—’
A sudden movement caught his eyes, and before he could resolve himself from his uncontrolled horror, Zetian struck at him ferociously. Spinning around as she rose to her feet, her arm arced towards him in a motion new to all in the arena, herself included- a newly created weapon of carnage. Her demonic eyes saw all of the world around her and how it could break, and her body itched to utterly crush it, her bones and muscles moving on their own. Zetian’s enhanced mind and ruthless battle instinct had combined in a stroke of sudden martial genius. The only thing left to do was to swing the weapon that they had given her. The Empress let out a battle cry to the heavens as Tsukuyomi attempted to retreat away, still looking at the cracks of the sheath as he raised his guard. And in that moment…the arm Tsukuyomi had thought unusable swung upwards at him, almost like a life-reaping sickle of flesh and blood, slicing through the air audibly and slipping right past his guard. The god of the moon gasped as his opponent grinned savagely.
WHITE TIGER’S ASSAULT
He tried to dodge backward- to block would be too risky. But even that wasn’t enough. Four claw marks tore Tsukuyomi’s clothes into pieces as they slashed into his chest and stomach, causing the moon god to cry out in shocked agony. Droplets of blood flew towards the face of the deranged mortal, which she licked from her cheek with a gleeful smile.
“Oh my!” Thoth gasped. “Zetian has unleashed a truly horrifying technique!”
The Wine God of Greece spoke out above the confused outrage, “How fancy~! It must have been the wind~ She attacked with such a concentrated force that the air itself sliced into Tsu-chan~ You can even see the cuts on the castle walls”
“Tsukuyomi!” cried out Izanami. Her eyes were wide and panicked. She took a deep breath and clutched the sides of her chair tightly, trembling for a moment.
Tsukuyomi cringed in pain as he looked back towards the horrible, blood-soaked beast before him. Its crimson eyes bore into his soul. “My my~ Perhaps I misjudged you.” It said mockingly as it turned off Demon Mind. “You are quite the skilled fighter yourself. Did your daddy teach you that as well?~”
The capricious mockery echoed throughout Tsukuyomi's very being. His bones recoiled in distress and his blood boiled. Yet his mind remained still. Was it enlightenment? Had he realized something? What had the young god come to understand?
Deep in the wilderness of Helheim…
Since his first venture into the underworld, it was clear to all that Tsukuyomi’s skills had truly blossomed. His blade’s movements were graceful, precise, and true, and the hazy light reflected off it had become just as elegant. Dim yet brilliant, shining gentle within each skillful strike. That was the beauty Tsukuyomi’s blade had achieved.
Yet today, the god of the moon saw no beauty in the light he had honed.
Below him lay a lifeless oni of Helheim, a great and feared devil, but to Tsukuyomi, little more than a milestone in his training. And now, yet another reason for him to be ashamed. Severe, deep, and decidedly inelegant gashes surrounded by ice covered the oni’s corpse, his face frozen forever in a twisted howl of agony. He had died with his eyes open. However, there was a twisted artistry to the slashes that had ended him- the crescent smoothness of those brutal slashes, the way they flowed into and around each other, visible even after the slaughter, had bloomed into a beautiful pattern of icy carnage.
This was what Tsukuyomi had trained for. This was the mastery he wanted to attain.
After all, he had finally managed to properly channel his light.
It was a moment he would remember forever. The moonlight had seared itself into his mind. The writhing, dying screams of the oni, the crackling of flesh, and the hollow sound of his blade striking true. When that massive, once-mighty corpse fell to the ground, his battle-tested club clattering to the ground beside him, Tsukuyomi only felt a rush of relief. Where had the adrenaline of victory gone? Had this been a battle, or an execution?
Tsukuyomi took a few deep breaths and sheathed his sword with a trembling arm, nearly cutting himself by accident, as if he couldn’t stand to look at it or away from the corpse. The reality that it was a weapon of war and not art was sobering. But this was his fault. Neither the blade or the light were stained with blood, rather, it was he who wielded them. He had destroyed instead of protecting, and caused another to die in agony. He had broken his promise, and over something as pitiful as his lack of mastery. For the first time in years, Tsukuyomi’s gentle heart began to ache and waver.
He buried the oni with his club before returning home.
The next day…
The winds of the mountaintop felt harsher than usual, howling like the wails of the damned. But Tsukuyomi simply ignored them. Again and again, without a moment of pause, he swung his radiant sword. The same combinations, the same movements, the same strikes, over and over, with moonlight coursing through each maddening repetition. His usual resolve had given way to almost manic determination. Izanami watched him silently. She had noticed the strange look in his eyes as soon as he’d returned from his battle, but trusting her son, had decided to give him some space to think. Perhaps he’d find some clarity during the day’s training.
Clarity, however, seemed farther away with each swing. Tsukuyomi’s eyes were almost bloodshot. He’d been training for hours before the break of dawn. Everything had melted away long ago, save for the blade and the reason he was swinging it. His own pure and immutable inadequacy. Even keeping a single promise was too much for him, something as simple as fighting to protect. His heart felt like it was about to burst. He couldn’t look away from his task. The oni’s body wouldn’t fade even if he did. He had to do this.
Especially since his father would be visiting later.
He continued to swing the sword. More light began to flow into it.
“I have to master myself.”
The howling wind, Izanami’s words, his own thoughts, they all became unclear white noise, the world drowning in the shine of his blade.
“Master myself.”
His eyes narrowed. He was fully focused. He started to swing faster, brighter. Ice was beginning to spread across his arm, but it didn’t slow him down for a moment.
“Come on. Master yourself.”
He swung the sword again and again. More ice crept through his arm. His sword was beginning to crack and shake. He wouldn’t stop.
“Master yourself, damnit!”
Even his own movements became nothingness to him. He didn’t notice the blinding white light forming around him, or the crystals that already coated his body, or the sword shattering into pieces, flying by and slicing him. It didn’t feel cold at all. It didn’t hurt. He didn’t hear Izanami crying out for him to stop.
“MASTER YOURSELF!”
And then, the world became white and radiant.
Since the beginning of creation, there had never been a moon in Helheim’s sky. The strange, eerie lights in the blood-red sky simply turned to darkness as the hours passed, with no true light ever coming in. That was the law of the realm itself.
But on this day, for ten shining, frightening minutes, moonlight shone down on the underworld.
It was nothing less than a light of calamity. A star of pure, radiant white hung in the sky, erratically, harshly forcing itself into a new form every moment, thrashing violently in the darkness. It was a crescent one moment, a shining fragment the next, and a full orb of deathly light immediately after. An unstable and beautiful calamity. With each sudden shift, wrathful moonlight rained upon the land. The howling tears of the moon fell to and razed the earth in a rain of disaster. Mountains, plains, forests, all were swallowed by that white and chaotic light. It was as if the heavens themselves were punishing the underworld.
This was the chaos that lay within an angel’s light. The light Tsukuyomi had so desperately wished for back then, and yet, hadn’t even begun to fathom. The light he had gained from his father. That sacred light, his greatest desire, was just the same as his blade: all his mastery and divinity given form, a beautiful, graceful, and glorious weapon of ruin.
It was a light that could never truly protect.
Those ten minutes of devastation eventually passed. The moon vanished, and Helheim’s sky returned to its natural gloom. Yet a single shining light remained within it. It slowly floated to the ground, almost gently so, and landed in front of Izanami’s surprisingly unharmed abode. She was waiting in the garden. Lucifer looked up towards her, as she immediately fell to her knees in front of him, tears in her eyes. His eyes twisted ever so slightly in guilt. She had been burned by light, his light, clearly after a struggle. She had done all she could to help.
“I’m sorry…I…I really tried, I shouldn’t have…and even you got hurt…”
Lucifer shook his head, unbothered by the frostbitten wounds on his scarred body. He hadn’t used his radiant armor for even a second, much less his weapon. He put a hand on Izanami’s head to calm her, as he had many times before.
“...Don’t worry about it. It can hardly be called an injury. And I couldn’t risk harming our son.”
The gentle coolness of his voice and the warmth of his hand slowly brought Izanami back to reality. She took a few deep breaths, before taking Tsukuyomi from Lucifer’s other arm. His body had no wounds, but he was clearly close to death, pale and haggard, as if drained of all light. The young god had utterly broken himself under his own light. Izanami almost sobbed looking at him. While Lucifer’s face remained mostly still, as he closed his eyes, the ruler of heaven felt the familiar, ever-present weight of utmost guilt…along with a slight tinge of fear.
Even now, millenia after the fall, with his supreme divine power and command over all of heaven, the greatest of angels still couldn’t protect a single boy. Those he loved and couldn’t save were still falling through the cracks, just as they had back then. It still wasn’t enough.
His, too, was a light that could never truly protect.
“...Take him inside, please. I’ll join you two in a moment.” Lucifer said. He gazed forlornly from the mountain’s edge, quietly observing the destruction his son had wrought upon Helheim. Izanami simply nodded and did as he asked. Right now was one of those moments when Lucifer needed to think alone. Lucifer turned his head briefly, and gave an almost regretful glance towards Tsukuyomi as he vanished behind the front door. It was in that moment that the mightiest among divinities offered a silent prayer for forgiveness.
“You haven’t failed, Tsukuyomi… You never did... As a father, a mentor, and a god…I’m the one who has failed you. The shame of weakness is mine alone to bear.”
He took a slight breath, and turned to join his family inside.
“I’m sorry for always being such a coward. I hope…that this serves as even the smallest compensation.”
Fastened at his hip was a beautiful sheath, adorned with two angelic wings and a jewel that glimmered like the moon.