This is the first time I have written something of this length, and is more of an exercise in self-therapy than anything else. Disclaimer: This story contains conversations about child abuse. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it.
Nathan’s number appeared on my phone screen. I debated whether or not to answer it. We hadn’t been on speaking terms for a while, and while we did keep in touch sporadically, it was usually because of important family issues. I didn’t know of anything happening with mom or dad, nor with Talia or Rio, so I let it go to voicemail. I could always call him back later. I placed the phone back in my pocket, and returned to cleaning my camera. The phone buzzed again. A text message came through. I read the preview line from the home screen. “The city declared eminent domain on the house” I unlocked my phone, read the full text message, and dialed my brother.
I wasn't able to get any closer to the house than a few blocks. Most of the area was blocked off with chain link fencing and construction equipment in preparation for the demolition that was supposed to take place within the coming days. The barriers didn’t prevent people from walking in to the neighborhood, but it hindered scrappers from coming in and stripping the houses of copper wiring and plumbing.
I grabbed my camera bag out of the trunk of my car along with my tripod. I shouldered it and hooked the tripod to my bag. I pulled my water bottle out of the center console and shut the door. I stood next to my car surveying the neighborhood. 12 city blocks of old single family homes comprised the neighborhood where I grew up. Some of the houses had been empty for months, others for years. There was an eerie silence that permeated the still air. I could not hear the familiar sounds of people, pets, or cars. I locked the car and put my keys in my pocket. I patted my jacket down to ensure I had what I needed. After a quick check, I started my walk.
The sidewalk of the old neighborhood streets still bore the familiar cracks and grind marks from years of buckling and remedy. Leaves dropped by the trees still lay scattered all along the pathways and sidewalk. Korina’s house was the first house I encountered as I made my way through a gap in the fence. The yard was overgrown with tall grass and thistle. I could see the faded blue paint of the old house contrasting the green and browns of the lawn. The chain link fence that marked off the corner property was nearly invisible through the thick brush. As I continued walking west towards 110th, I started to feel something was off. The streets seemed wider than I remembered. It took me longer than I’d like to admit, but eventually I realized what was different. There were no cars.
The streets here typically had cars lined bumper to bumper in any spot available, and were visible from block to block. The absence of all these vehicles made me realize just how deserted the neighborhood really was. House after house, yard after yard, the telltale signs of desertion reinforced what I could see from the moment I passed the construction fence: This was no longer my neighborhood. There were no signs of life, and no one I could expect to find still here. Abandonment was the new normal here. I continued on, glancing at houses and recalling memories of summer bike rides, and daily walks with dogs I used to have. I remembered walks home from school, and chasing after ice cream trucks when they passed our houses. I smiled a bit as I remembered more and more of my years spent here. I don’t quite know just why I was smiling. There were plenty of bad memories here too. Fights, yelling, being beat up, being robbed. I could remember failed friendships, lost loves, and bitter feelings of failures too.
Still, I felt a certain amount of nostalgia despite the weight of these negative feelings. I almost wanted to experience everything again, although I wasn't sure why I was feeling this way. Concrete, asphalt, billboards and liquor stores were the normal vistas of everyday life. Occasionally, after a good rainstorm, the grey haze of smog would lift, and the mountains would be visible to the north. At least, they would be visible until mid-morning when the exhaust from a million cars covered them behind a veil of pollution.
It wasn’t until the first time I travelled out of the city that I realized there was more to see. Traveling up the coast north along the Pacific Coast Highway introduced me to scenes of deep blue ocean water spanning the width of my vision. Driving up Highway 3 introduced me to the permeating scent of Pine and Fir trees. The two-lane stretch of highway from Portland to Tillamook introduced me to lush green forests that I had only ever read about. When I came home to the same old dirty, dusty concrete and boiling summer asphalt, I had made up my mind. I would do everything it took to leave this place. I would not spend another day longer than was necessary living in cramped quarters and fighting for parking space.
I arrived to the house, and paused at the gate. The house sat in contrast of what the rest of the neighborhood looked like. Instead of overgrown grass and tall weeds all over the place, the landscaping showed signs of relatively recent work. The guava tree in the front lawn still had some fruit ready to be picked, and the avocado tree on the other side of the pathway was still weighed down by its own fruit. Flowers still bloomed in the raised bed in front of the house. My brother had clearly tried to keep up on things until the last possible moment. The house, too, looked better than what I expected after walking up 4 blocks and seeing nothing but dilapidated houses and unkempt yards. I opened the gate and walked up to the small porch. The metal gate that enclosed it was gone having been removed by my brother when he took over the property. It looked nice to see it open instead of the cage it once felt like.
I turned the knob on the door, but it didn't give. Ever a creature of habit, my brother had locked the door when he left. Of course, he did. I sighed and prepared to find another way in when I remembered my parents hiding a spare key. I wasn’t sure if it would still be there, but after running my hands along the back side of the gutter downspout, I was rewarded for my efforts. I unlocked the front door and stepped into the front living room, the sounds of my footsteps and the closing door echoing in the empty space. The room felt both larger and smaller than I remembered it. I suppose it was lack of furniture that made it feel larger, but it still felt smaller than I remember. The result of growing taller throughout the years I suppose. I slowly walked along the slate tile floor towards the central hallway that connected the front of the house to the back bedrooms. I wasn't entirely sure that just because the front door was locked, that there wasn't some squatter looking for a little temporary shelter within the back rooms. I carefully and silently crept step by step towards what used to be the bedroom shared by my sister and me. I stuck my head in and gave the room a cursory glance. It was empty, thankfully. I moved back into the hallway and peered into the bedroom across the hall. This is where both of my brothers had shared a room. It too, was empty save for a few boxes holding hardware and doorknobs from the closet doors of the bedroom. I walked back towards the back of the house where my parent's bedroom was. The walls in the hallway bore the dusty signs where picture once hung. The bedroom door was open. I stepped inside, and looked around. The old avocado paint that my mom had picked out years ago still adorned the walls. Walking further towards the addition that was the small room my grandma and grandpa lived in showed that there was no one here. I breathed a sigh of relief as I set my bag down and set up my tripod. I reached into my bag a pulled out an envelope of old photos. These were old snapshots that we had all taken at some point in time in the house. There were pictures of all of us sitting at the dining room table playing a game of Monopoly. There was a picture of my brother and sister sitting on a couch in the front living room. There was a picture of me hanging on the bars of the front porch. I looked through them all and held them in place in front of me as if I were holding a window to the past.
Each picture made the lump in my throat grow as I started to struggle to control my emotions. There was history here, and soon it would all be gone. This is the place where my parents had raised four kids. They had taken care of my grandparents in their twilight years here. My Aunt and my grandmother had both died in this house. Birthdays, graduation parties, and anniversaries had been celebrated here. The echoes of life had reverberated within the walls of this place. Now, the house sat silent. It would never again know happy screams of kids having a water-balloon war out in the front yard, nor would it hear the cries of anguish as the matriarch of the family passed away surrounded by her family. What once was a home full of life was now just an empty house made of drywall and paint. I sat there for a moment contemplating just how much family history was actually made here. As I thought hard about my siblings and my parents, I felt pained at the thought of our strained relationships. We had all scattered once we had the opportunity to be free of each other. My oldest brother had married and moved away as soon as possible. My sister now lived in northern California. My parents too had moved away. I was now living in Utah. Only my older brother had remained behind. The lump grew larger in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. I held back sobs of anger and pain. Why was I hurting? Hadn’t I dealt with these issues already? I walked back to my old bedroom and sat down under the window. I pulled my head down into my knees and cried. I could hear yelling and screaming in my head. Shouting matches between siblings and parents, brothers and sister, rattled inside my brain, making the pain grow. I sat there and cried. I hadn’t cried like this in a long time. Eventually I ran out of tears and tired gasps of sorrow and regret washed over me as a blanket of drowsiness enveloped me. I leaned my head back and fell asleep.
I woke up to the sound of footsteps. It took me a moment to realize what I was hearing and hurriedly stood up. Had someone followed me? I knew the police were patrolling the area sporadically. Had they seen me enter the house? I knew there would be a possibility of getting a trespassing citation, but I figured I could either talk my way out of it seeing as to how I was a former resident, or I could probably fight the citation in court if the judge knew why I was there in the first place. Ultimately, passing through the gate had been a calculated risk that I was willing to take for the sake of my art. I got up from my corner of the room and moved towards the door. If there was someone in the house, I needed to know. I didn’t want my gear to stolen, and if there was a cop in the house, I wanted to ensure I didn’t get shot.
I was greeted by the sight of a startled chubby boy standing on the other side of the door. His round cherubic face was crowned by a head of short curly hair. His hazel green eyes stared widely back at me. He clearly didn’t expect someone to be here in the house. His body recoiled in fear as he cowered back towards the hallway. “Wait, what are you doing here?” I asked as non-threateningly as I could. The boy muttered something that I couldn’t quite make out. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you” I replied. “Are you here to rob us?” he timidly responded. “Rob you? What are you talking about?” I asked as confusion set in. “What are you doing here?” It was his turn to be confused. “Uh…I….live here?” he replied. “What do you mean you live here? No one lives-“I stopped midsentence. I hadn’t noticed in my initial shock but the room wasn’t the same. A familiar blue couch caught the corner of my eye. In front of that was an old console TV with a partially broken antenna hanging on the wall behind it. I walked further in to the living room to notice wood paneling on the walls. A large mirror hung on the wall to my left. Familiar yellow lamps sat on round drop-leaf tables on either side of the couch. A large hutch sat in one corner, a collection of letters and bills, mail advertisements, and a phone book covered scattered over it. “What just happened?” I asked out loud to no one in particular. I was thoroughly mystified by what my eyes were seeing. I had walked into the house from the front door and had stepped into an empty white room with slate floor tiles, but somehow now found myself in a furnished room with brown carpet that was all so familiar to me, yet was nothing but a distant faded memory. I turned to look at the boy still startled by the intrusion of a strange man looking wildly around the room in total shock.
“You can take what you want, just please let me go. I don’t want problems.” He stated his voice still shrill with anxiety. I blinked a few times as I tried to process just what the heck was going on. I gathered my thoughts as best I could and tried to reassure him. “Kid, I’m not here to rob anyone. I was just-“I shook my head “Where the hell am I? Am I having a dream?” I asked myself. “I must be dreaming. I’m just tired and still sleeping. This is all a dream. Yeah, that’s it.” I needed to sit down. Being back in the old house must have overtaxed my senses, I told myself. I’d having a dream about an old memory. I walked over to the chair next to the couch and sat down. I sunk into it and rested my head back towards the wall.
The boy kept his distance, but sensed I wasn’t there to hurt him. He looked me over with anxious curiosity. He stood at the far end of the couch, examining me while he played out scenarios in his head in preparation for a quick exit. “Why are you in my house?” he asked me. “Dude, this is all just a dream I’m having. I’m not really here.” He reached over to the couch and picked up a pillow. He reared his arm and threw it at me. It landed in my lap. “I don’t know, man. You sure seem to be here.” He said to me. I opened my eyes, startled. I looked down at the pillow he tossed and examined it. I ran my hand over the fabric and felt its texture. I remember this pillow. This was the pillow I would roll under my head as I lay on the couch and watched TV as a kid. A sudden realization hit me as I looked around the room with fresh eyes. No longer was I blinded by the fog of confusion. I knew exactly where I was.
I was home.
I looked at the boy still standing at the edge of the couch. I looked him over and realized who he actually was. I stared in disbelief as I smiled and tried to put him at ease. “It’s ok Johnny. I’m not here to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. Please, sit down” I told him. I motioned to his end of the couch. “Who are you, and why are you here?” he asked me.
“This will be hard to believe, but I’m you” I said with an incredulous tone, “I’m not sure how I ended up here, but I’m here.” He looked at me as I had grown a second head. “That doesn’t make any sense. How could you be me? Did we invent time travel? Oh! Are we secret government agents with the CIA?”
I chuckled. “Wait, wait, wait. Let’s start at the beginning. I’m you at 38 years old. You’re…what, 11… 12 years old? It makes sense. I fell asleep under the window in my- our old bedroom. I didn’t come here on purpose or in a machine. And no, I’m not a government agent.” His face contorted to display understanding, disappointment and finally suspicion. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards me. “How do I know you’re really me?” he asked. I thought about it for a moment. How could I prove to him that I was who I said I was? A few seconds of silence settled between us. I stroked my chin, thinking of a solution.
“I have a better idea. Ask me questions that only you know the answers to.” “Okay” he responded. He glanced around the room trying to come up with something. His eyes fixated on the Nintendo sitting under the TV cabinet. “What game do me and Nathan have a map of?” I looked over at the NES. I hadn’t thought about this for years, but I knew instantly what he was asking. “YOU don’t have anything. Nathan is the one that made the map for Section Z” His jaw dropped. He tried to trick me, but his plan failed. He knew well and good that Nathan never let him play. It was always ‘I’ll let you play when I die’ or, ‘you can play when I’m done’. The problem was that he never followed through. Usually by the time Nathan was done, the NES was overheated, and the game would no longer load until it cooled down. By that point, it was time for bed.
“How do you know that?” he asked in astonishment. “I know these things because I’m you. Just like I know that you wear t-shirts to the pool because you’re embarrassed by what others will think of your body. I know that you used to think that people that die off in movies were prisoners that were set to be executed from death row, so they used them for making movies. I know all about you because I’m you”
Johnny sat on the end of the couch in bewilderment, his mouth slightly agape. He had never told anyone any of this. He didn’t have any close friends to talk to about such things, and those friends he did have were more acquaintances than friends. There was only one way he could possibly know these things. He was talking to his future self.
I could see Johnny’s mind completely explode. There lay endless possibility and the answers to a million questions he could ask about his own future. He started to ask a question, only to stop, close his mouth, and try asking another. I knew if he kept this up he would have a stroke or something. “Dude, calm yourself. Let’s talk this out rationally, otherwise you’ll end up stroking out or something.” I told him. He took a deep breath and I could hear him muttering quietly. I knew he was trying to form a coherent sentence before he actually spoke it. I did it all the time. “Ok, first of all, are we rich?” he asked with tempered expectation. I chuckled and grinned back at him. “No, not at all. If I was rich, would I be dressed like this?” I replied as I motioned to my beat up brown Vans and worn out jeans and T-shirt. “We-, I – make enough to get by. I’m not poor, but I earn enough to pay the bills.” His face grew a smirk as he commented “Yeah, I figured. What do I do for work? I mean, what do you do for work?” I thought about it for a second. I wondered how much information I should divulge to a younger me. I still didn’t think this whole situation was really happening, but if it was, I probably should proceed with caution. “Well, it’s complicated. I do a little bit of everything. You know how you’re constantly taking things apart? Let’s just say that it’s good to put them back together in order to keep them working. Take good notes on paper if you need to, and make sure you have a clean work area so you can keep track of all the parts.” He gave me a sheepish look. He knew exactly what I was talking about. I had spent countless hours sneaking dad’s tools to my room so I could figure out how something was built and try to figure out how it worked. I had gotten myself into some pretty bad trouble with dad over a drill, his timing light, and other stuff I had taken from his room. His belt had become quite familiar with my butt cheeks.
I gave him a knowing smile. “What else do you want to know?” He thought about it for a second. “Do we have a girlfriend?” I laughed, probably a little more than I should have because his face contorted into a sour frown. “You don’t need to be a jerk about it” he scowled. I continued to chuckle. “Yeah we have a girlfriend. We have more than a girlfriend” I could tell he was irritated with my vague indirect answers. I knew what he was asking. I remember the crush I had on my neighbor across the street. We had been friends since kindergarten, and had been classmates for 1st, 2nd, and 4th grades. We got along really well, and I knew from around 12 or 13 that I wanted to be her boyfriend. Unfortunately, things never progressed beyond the ‘just friends’ stage of things. It wasn’t from lack of effort on my part. We had just grown up together most of our lives that she didn’t see me as anything more than a brother and friend. “Dude, look. You just started to go through changes and you are starting to notice girls, but that doesn’t mean that you need to love every girl that shows you a little kindness or subtle interest. You need to slow down and let things happen naturally. You can’t force a relationship with someone.” Johnny pondered these words for a moment. I sat back and put my feet up on the coffee table. I looked around the room some more while I waited for another question. There was so much I had forgotten, but being back here had unlocked more and more memories that continued to wash over me. I was trying to hold on to my cool as not all those churned up recollections were pleasant. I stood up and walked over to the front door to peer outside the small central window embedded into the center of it. I could see the old neighborhood as I remembered it all those years ago. The lot across the street that served as a parking area for those that worked at the wheel works at the end of the block was empty of cars. I furrowed my brow as I thought for a moment. An empty lot meant it was afterhours or the weekend.
The gears in my own head started turning. “Wait, where is everyone?” I asked Johnny. Johnny turned to look at me still processing my last response. “Uh..oh, Mom and dad are out of town. They took a trip east this time. I think Rio said they are in Arizona right now. Rio and Nathan went out to get some food and to rent some movies from Video Showcase. Knowing them they’ll eat out first. Talia is staying over at Tia Rosie’s place today with her friends.” I grunted at his response. My mind was wandering as he mentioned Talia and Tia Rosie.
A sudden sharp pain pieced my heart. The pain of a thousand memories now unsealed spilled out from the box I had locked them away in. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes as I turned back to look at Johnny. He felt it too. He stared at the floor with an intensity that made me think it would burst into flames at any moment. I walked back over to him and sat next to him. He didn’t move. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he threw himself into me. I could feel the tears dripping onto me as he sobbed intensely. “Hey man, its ok. It’s going to be ok.” I said as my own tears started to flow uncontrollably. I pulled him close and draped my other arm around him.
I knew the pain he was feeling. It was such a heavy burden, and I knew there was no one he felt he could talk to. I remembered it all so vividly. We sat there for what seemed to be an eternity. When we finally stopped sobbing, and our noses ran dry, we tried to breathe our way through to calmness. I got up and knelt in front of him. “Johnny, listen to me and remember what it is that I’m about to say to you. You are stronger than you think. You are stronger than you believe. NO ONE should ever have to go through this. Just because it happened to Talia, doesn’t mean you have to put up with it any longer. I know you didn’t think it was wrong, but I’m telling you that what she is doing to you is wrong. Talking to mom and dad isn’t going to make them hate you. You are not doing this to her, she is doing it to you. I’m not making excuses for her, but she is also more damaged than anyone realizes, and she is also dealing with the same level of pain you are. Remember that we do unto others what has been done to us. That doesn’t mean we need to continue the cycle of abuse” The lump in my throat grew immense at my own statement. I swallowed it as best I could and continued “You are going to deal with this pain a little bit at a time, and you’ll slowly get over this. It’s like a broken bone. When it happens, you don’t realize how bad the pain is until the adrenaline wears off, but then the immense pain is there. Just remember that this will pass. Just like a broken bone, you will heal over time, and one day, you will realize that the pain is gone and the bone is no longer broken. You’ll remember the pain, but it won’t hurt anymore.”
Johnny sat there in stunned silence. I knew he didn’t have anyone to help him through this. He couldn’t talk to Rio or Nathan about what was going on. Mom and Dad were constantly working to keep the family fed and sheltered and while they provided materially for their kids, emotional help was less available. Perhaps it was due to their energies being divided into 4 kids, a mortgage and multiple jobs, or perhaps it was also the culture of not talking about problems. Either way, they needed to know what was happening. They wouldn’t be able to fix it otherwise. “They’re going to be mad at me” he finally said after a few moments of silence. “No they won’t be. They love us all. I know you’re not used to hearing it, but they do love you. Everything they do is because of their love for us. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. Telling them isn’t going to cause them to be angry.” I thought for a moment to find a good analogy. “You love Odie and Lady, right?” He nodded in agreement. “Ok, how would you feel if you knew someone you trusted was coming to the house and beating up our dogs when we weren’t around?” He thought about it for a second before his face changed to anger. “I’d want to kill them!” “Yes, but would you also feel sad that you weren’t there to try to protect them?” I reasoned. His face changed again. He understood what I was saying. Mom and Dad would be angry, but not necessarily at him. They would also feel a great sadness knowing that someone was hurting their child.
I smiled at him. He understood. I nodded. “Dude…You’re going to come to understand that life is not what you think it will be. Life is messy and can change in an instant. The plans you make today may not make it to next week. A lifelong goal can be derailed because of something out of your control. Mom and dad have spent their life protecting us with the goal of keeping us safe, but circumstances out of their control have affected their kids, and now we- you all have to deal with the fallout. Just remember that you are not the culprit. Yes, mom and dad will be hurt and angry, but not at you. Trust them. They don’t do things to hurt us” Johnny hugged me. I- He didn’t have many people he could trust and open up to. He liked to talk a lot about everything going on in his life, no matter how trivial. Everything, except this. This was a shameful topic, and he didn’t feel like anyone would understand why he didn’t go to an adult sooner. The problem was simple. He simply didn’t understand that it was wrong. Now that he had an adult that he could talk to, himself no less, he wanted to lift this burden off his shoulders. He was happy to have found someone and he hugged me tightly. I hugged him back just at tightly. It wasn’t every day that I could meet my younger self and help to comfort them. “Thank you” he said to me.
The world darkened, and everything faded to black.
I lifted my head out of my knees and looked around. I was sitting under the window in my old bedroom again. Had I fallen asleep? I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. I was emotionally drained and incredibly tired. I hadn’t had sleep like that in years. I got to my feet and looked around the room briefly before walking out to mom and dad’s old room. I grabbed my camera and slowly walked the house, snapping picture after picture. The only sound to be heard was the sound of the camera shutter and my soft footsteps. I thought about my dream as I took pictures.
Upon entering my room, a random memory hit me.
The stash.
I was pretty sure I had taken the hidden box when I moved out all those years ago, but since I was here, I should double check. Heading into the closet, I pushed the panel that led to the attic space out of the way and peered in. I couldn’t see anything, so I reached up there to feel around. The box was indeed gone. I felt around for a few more seconds and was surprised to feel what felt like a thick envelope. I didn’t remember leaving anything up there, but after pulling it down and giving it a cursory glance, I figured it was an old envelope of lost love letters. It wasn’t until I blew off the thick layer of dust that I realized what I was holding. It was a letter. Not just any letter. It was addressed to me.
Under the now semi-cleared layer of dust were the words “To be opened by future me”. I looked at it for a few moments before opening it. I couldn’t remember making this at all, much less storing it up in my secret hiding spot. If ever I hid something, it was in the stash box. My hands shook a bit as I started to open the envelope and pulled out the yellowed pages inside. I started reading.
"Dear Future John. I have spent the last few years remembering a dream I had when I was younger. Life was…difficult at that time, and I spent a lot of time escaping my reality by reading a lot of books and watching a lot of TV. On the off-chance that what I think is a dream really happened. I wanted to write some things down in an effort to give you my thanks. I merely consider myself a conveyer of thanks, although I will pile on my own thanks to you for your words of encouragement. I remember finding a stranger in the house one day while I was home alone. I was afraid he was there to hurt me at first, but after a few moments, I came to realize I was meeting myself. Well, I was meeting me, but from the future. I think he said he was in his 40’s, but I couldn’t tell you with any certainty. Either way, we talked. We talked about life, and what the future held in store for us…
Mostly though, we talked about the abuse. Well, Talked is being generous. We cried, and then we talked. I don’t remember exactly what he told me, but I remember how he made me feel. He made me feel safe. I felt like I could trust him. Trust myself. In the end, he gave me the courage to stand up for myself both at home and at school. He also gave me the courage to talk to mom and dad about what was going on between me and Talia. I do remember being afraid that I would be punished, but he reassured me that they wouldn’t, and that they loved me.
It was a difficult and awkward conversation, but in the end, arrangements were made for me to share a room with Rio and Nathan. I didn’t have much of a relationship with Talia for a long while, but after some years, we managed to patch things up. She apologized to me, and I came to understand the abuse she herself was subjected to by so-called family friends. She didn’t tell me this in an effort to excuse it, but to merely help give me closure to a difficult time from my own childhood. Mom and dad promised to be more attentive to us and we sort of established what I guess you would call an open door policy. We talk more about stuff that’s happening in our lives. Mom is much easier to talk to now. Dad is a little more patient with us too. I apologized to them for not coming to them sooner, and dad gave me a “nugget of wisdom” that I think I’ll live by: We can’t fix what we don’t know is broken. I’ve tried to make sure I talk to them when something is wrong, and I’ve tried to implement that in my life so I don’t have problems with other people.
I’m trying to grow up to be a good guy. I want to have good relationships with people. Nathan says I’m turning into a people pleaser, but I don’t necessarily see that as a terrible thing. I know when to say no to someone. Well, either way, I wanted to make sure I thank you for the help you gave us. I probably won’t remember writing this, but I hope I do find it again someday. Here’s hoping I turn into the man I feel you are. -John Age 16."
I stared at the letter, the words blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly brushed them away as I quietly spoke to no one in particular. “Thanks guys. I hope I live up to your expectations” I folded the letter, placed it in my pocket, and walked out of the room. After picking up my backpack and tripod, I silently walked towards the front door, my footsteps echoing in the empty house. I turned to look back at the empty living room one last time, and after a moment, I walked out.

I thought I found the perfect every day backpack when I stumbled on the Nest Backpack from TropicFeel, their marketing is so good! I'm sad to see so many bad reviews (bad quality, not goof fit, small water bottle pocket, etc) I'd be planning on using this bag as a baby bag/everyday travel bag, not so much for packing but for out and about. Anyone know of similar bags with the same features that's quality?
Looking at: -lots of pockets/organization -loved their kangaroo pocket and spider net -not too big and is lightweight -can expand -water bottle pocket -secret back pocket -easy access to front pockets
Basically the nest bag but gives the quality they promise lol
No specific budget! Just on the hunt and could use help

[First] [Prev] [Next]
The Treasure Fleet of 1551 arrived in the last week of July that year. One ship was particularly large, well-armed, and well-decorated with Ming imperial insignia. Onboard was a man named Cui Hejing, an envoy on a mission given to him directly by the Jiajing Emperor (though not in person, given how reclusive the emperor was). Cui was politically unconnected to either Yan Song or Xu Jie, meaning that he was, theoretically, neutral in the rivalry between them, and this is why he was chosen for this mission. His orders were clear: these 'Meixigou People' would have to be brought into China's orbit. During its heyday, the Chinese overseas empire had included tributaries from all over the western Pacific and the Indian Ocean too. Things had deteriorated since then, but the Ming's self-confidence had not. Surely, after the thrashing they received at Acapulco, Meixigou would be all too happy to send a tributary embassy to Beijing to talk things out and make a deal that would allow for the unimpeded flow of silver into China (and other goods as well: Yan Song was fond of a good cup of hot cocoa in the morning).
Any deal made with the Meixigou People would need to have the support of both Wei Chengjia and Bai Guguan in order for it to hold. It didn't please the emperor to have North Province and South Province sponsoring pirates to raid each other's shipping. Actually, to be honest, the emperor didn't care as long as he got the full tribute from both provinces every year—but currently that wasn't happening.
The first order of business, then, was to meet with the two governors.
Dongguang was the eastern terminus for the Treasure Fleet in those days, so Cui met first with Bai in Dongguang, then with Wei in Ningbo. Finally, the three met in Dongguang and hashed out what they could agree to. Without the NSS under his control, Bai Guguan had turned to piracy once again to obtain the silver he needed, and was still falling well short of what he owed the emperor (This was called the Third Silver War, a conflict on the high seas that began in 1550 with Wei's reinstatement). That would have to stop, Cui told him. Bai was happy to cease sponsoring pirates if Cui could convince the Meixigou People to let DSS members purchase silver. Cui asked Wei why he hadn't done more to convince the Meixigou People to remain peaceable, to which Wei responded by pointing out that Bai had sent a military expedition to wreck a Meixigou port. Bai countered with the accusation that Wei started the Silver Wars by attacking the Cabrillo Expedition under false flags, which Wei denied.
Cui Hejing sighed.
Negotiations carried on for several days in the first week of August, with Wei and Bai frequently arguing while Cui played the peacemaker. Wei Chengjia agreed to support South Province's right to trade with Meixigou in exchange for a concession near and dear to Bai Guguan's economic policy.
In 1450, the Treasure Fleet had officially been established as an annual convoy sailing between Xinguo and China, sanctioned by the imperial government and given a naval escort. The Jingtai Emperor who ruled China at the time set the fleet's terminus at Dongguang in order to hurt Wei Shuifu, whom the emperor deemed to be too powerful already. As the discoverer of Xinguo and the biggest proponent of settling the New World, Wei Shuifu had immense influence in the early colonisation period. Having the Treasure Fleet stop in Dongguang was of profound importance for the city's economy. Establishments such as hotels and pubs thrived on the business brought by the Fleet, farmers and fishermen sold their products to restock the Fleet for the return trip, and even Ningbo had to come to Dongguang to deliver its annual tribute to the Fleet, while NSS merchants had to come to purchase Asian wares for resale in Xinguo. All this gave Dongguang a significant edge over its rival. Over the years, the fleet had occasionally stopped in Ningbo instead, when emperors felt they needed to send a message to Dongguang, but they always switched it back to Dongguang within a few years. In 1551, however, Wei Chengjia's requirement for his support of a deal with Meixigou was that Ningbo be set as the permanent terminus for the Treasure Fleet. Bai Guguan agreed to this, albeit begrudgingly. Both men shook hands and signed a paper agreeing to these terms. Two copies were made of the paper, one of which was kept by each governor while Cui Hejing kept the original. No chances were to be taken on either man reneging on his side of the deal.
The hard part was done. Now it was time to deliver a message to the foreigners requiring their presence in Beijing at the earliest possible time.
Cui Hejing sailed his ship down to Acapulco, arriving on August 18^th, 1551. Fortunately for him, Chinese ships arriving at Acapulco were an everyday occurrence so soon after the Treasure Fleet's arrival. Pirates were on a campaign of plunder all around Acapulco and the Spaniards still couldn't tell the difference between a North Province freighter, a South Province freighter, and a Wokou pirate ship. Sometimes, pirates pretended to be merchants until they got close, then opened fire. This made the Spaniards rather trigger happy for most of the year, wary as they were of ambushes. With so many North Province merchantmen showing up in the preceding week, however, Cui made it into the harbour without difficulty. The harbour was now overlooked by Fuerte de Oñate, a newly-constructed star fort on the west side of the bay named for Cristobal de Oñate himself. Colloquially, it was called Fuerte del Vasco, or Fort of the Basque, in reference to Oñate's heritage. In 1551, the fort was rather bare-bones and parts of it were still under construction, but eventually it would be expanded into a sprawling defensive network, making Acapulco the most heavily fortified city on the Pacific coast of Spanish America. It was home to a permanent garrison of 1,000 men and 8 warships, who were constantly on the lookout for pirates. Bai Guguan's privateers often ambushed ships exiting the bay or even sneaked into the port at night for a little moonlit robbery. The Spaniards had already picked up the word 'Wokou' from their North Province trading parters as 'Oacao,' which they applied indiscriminately to all pirates or privateers originating from north of Mexico and operating in the Pacific Ocean. In later centuries, 'Oacao' would even be applied to British, Portuguese, and Russian privateers in the Pacific.
Upon Cui Hejing's arrival, he introduced himself and his mission to the mayor of Acapulco. This was conveyed to Mexico City, where it was received by Viceroy Antonio de Mendoza. Mendoza invited Cui to the capital. Upon arrival, Cui Hejing delivered a letter inviting Meixigou to send a tributary embassy to Beijing so that they could establish diplomatic ties with the Ming Dynasty. This was standard Ming practice. No one could have diplomatic ties with China without bringing tribute for the emperor. The emperor would respond to the tribute with a gift of his own, although this part doesn't seem to have been communicated clearly enough.
The viceroy, however, didn't have the power to authorise such a mission on his own, so he penned a letter to Madrid and sent it, along with Cui's invitation (together with a Spanish translation), to Spain. Two months was the minimum time in which to expect a reply, but three was more realistic.
Cui Hejing was incensed upon being told he'd have to wait for three months, give or take. He decried this as an outrage—how dare a mere king like the ruler of Meixigou make the emperor's envoy sit and wait? Mendoza reminded Cui that he, Mendoza, was just a viceroy, and that he needed authorisation from Madrid to get such a thing done. Then he told Cui again to settle in and wait. Cui was given comfortable lodgings, but simply couldn't contain his anger at being forced to wait. Every day, he sent complaints to the viceroy's office along with requests to see the king of Meixigou.
In truth, Mendoza had no patience for Cui Hejing's antics. He was preoccuppied with making a choice he'd been given by Emperor Karl V of the Holy Roman Empire, who was also King Carlos I of Spain. Since the viceroy of Peru had been killed by rebels in 1546, Peru needed a new one, a position which had been offered to Mendoza. In fact, a week after Cui's arrival on the Pacific coast, a man from Spain arrived on the Atlantic coast with orders to take up whichever viceregal position Mendoza turned down.
There were plenty of other, more pressing matters on Mendoza's plate as well. The Chichimec War was still blazing, cutting into New Spain's potential silver output. The war was so expensive New Spain kept having to beg Madrid for money to pay for it. In addition, conquistadors were still pushing the frontiers ever northward and southward, Maya city-states on the Yucatan peninsula were giving them trouble, and there was the matter of the New Laws. When a conquistador conquered a new area, he effectively installed himself as feudal lord of that area. Madrid gave a stamp of approval to this practice by creating the encomienda system, which converted the indigenous population of the area into the conquistador's serfs. Madrid dislike the practice, however. Unlike China, Spain took an active role in colonial administration and was loathe to allow conquistadors to establish hereditary control of large swathes of the New World. Therefore, they'd introduced a series of laws in the 1540s in the hopes of curbing the power of the encomenderos. Enforcement of these laws in Peru led to the viceroy being killed. In New Spain, Antonio de Mendoza adopted a policy which he described thusly: “I obey, but I do not comply.” In other words, he applied the New Laws very carefully and very selectively, so as to avoid the fate of Peru's viceroy.
All in all, Cui Hejing had come at a bad time. Furthermore, he seems to have been profoundly confused by the situation. As discussed previously, 'Spain' was referred to by the Xinguans as 'Meixigou', or some variation thereof. This was taken from 'Mexica,' which was the Aztecs' name for themselves. Xinguans saw the Spaniards as being akin to a new dynasty ruling the same land that'd long been one of their prime sources of silver. The land was still Meixigou, and its people were still Meixigou People, regardless of who was ruling there. Thus, officials back in China were given the impression that 'Meixigou' was a kingdom existing in the New World presided over by a viceroy, whom they interpreted as the equivalent of a prime minister. Meixigou's king was, presumably, residing in Mexico City, or in a country house somewhere nearby. They had no concept of Meixigou's connection to Spain—not that they would've known what Spain was anyway. Despite an overwhelming air of superiority over all others, China has traditionally been a rather insular place that prefers to deal with its own matters and doesn't pay a lot of attention to things far from its own borders. Europe was very far away indeed, so China had little idea of the political geography of the continent. Europeans were likewise rather ignorant about Asia in the mid-16^th century.
Hence Cui Hejing's angst. He seems to have been under the impression that Mendoza was making up a story about a capital city (Madrid) on the other side of another ocean purely to snub to Cui. There was no reason in Cui's eyes why he shouldn't be allowed to see the king of Meixigou, and it was making him madder by the day. Mendoza wasn't helping things either. He was busy with other matters and anyway, he was pretty confident Karl V wasn't about to send tribute on demand to another emperor on the other side of the globe (Mendoza also doesn't seem to have caught the part where the Jiajing Emperor would reciprocate the tribute with a gift of his own—or perhaps he simply didn't care).
On August 29^th, Cui Hejing announced he wasn't going to wait any longer. He told his hosts that they'd be sorry they snubbed an envoy of the emperor, then he packed his bags, headed back to Acapulco, and set sail for Xinguo. Mendoza made no attempt to hinder his departure.
Upon his return to Xinguo, Cui Hejing considered what he'd done. Going back to China without accomplishing anything was out of the question. He didn't want to end up being banished to the western frontier like Lin Weishi and Peng Chao'an. That would end his career, or at best would be a long hiatus before he might be allowed to return. Therefore, Cui resolved to get at least half of his mission completed.
To that end, he met with Wei and Bai again and informed them about what'd happened in Acapulco. However, the fact of Meixigou's non-compliance didn't have to be a problem. Circumvention of Meixigou's ban on DSS merchants coming to Acapulco wouldn't be hard. All they needed was for NSS merchants to purchase twice as much silver as they needed and sell the excess to the DSS. That way, South Province could still get the silver it needed. Wei agreed readily, but he still wanted the Treasure Fleet to switch its destination to Ningbo. Bai took a day to mull it over before finally agreeing. There was one condition, however. Wei would purchase silver from the NSS merchants out of his own pocket and then sell it to Bai at cost. This would mean Bai wouldn't have to pay an exorbitant mark-up for the silver he needed to pay the tribute. Wei agreed. Once again, three sets of the agreement were written out and signed by both governors. It might as well have been a treaty between foreign nations.
Cui Hejing returned to China with the Treasure Fleet in July 1552, with the agreement between the two governors in hand. Although it wasn't strictly necessary for him to wait to return with the Fleet, he thought it best to present the emperor with news of his trip at the same time as he received full tribute from both provinces, including the back-tribute South Province owed from 1551 and '50. Yan Song was incensed at Cui Hejing's account of how he was treated in Mexico, as was the Jiajing Emperor when Yan relayed the story to him. They were also upset at Cui Hejing for his reckless initiative in coming up with a solution all on his own. That being said, the Jiajing Emperor was now getting what he wanted. Needless to say, tribute wasn't coming from Meixigou. However, Bai Guguan had agreed to stop sponsoring pirates, which put an end to the Third Silver War (1550 – 1552), and South Province was now able to meet its tribute obligations. This was... an acceptable outcome.
Far from the banishment he'd been fearing, Cui Hejing was rewarded with a position as permanent commissioner to Xinguo. A commissioner was a man who was given the power to represent the emperor in order to accomplish a specific mission. Typically, any such commission was temporary, but in Cui's case it was a permanent posting. He would travel to Xinguo every year to relay the emperor's will to the governors and collect their reports on happenings in the colonies before returning to China to hand these in to the emperor (or at least, to the senior grand secretary). True to his agreement with Wei Chengjia, Cui Hejing managed to convince Yan Song to divert the Treasure Fleet to Ningbo. It took some persuasion, but it wasn't too hard since Yan Song viewed Bai Guguan as an ally of his arch-rival Xu Jie ever since Lin Weishi's expedition.
[Next]

Hi All,
Offloading some of my old tech. Hopefully they will be useful to someone else. Prices include shipping to lower 48 states. Discounts available for combined shipping and local pickup (95672).
Timestamps: https://imgur.com/a/TevnN4y

Price	Item	Description
$100	Keychron K8 Pro RGB	Excellent condition - gently used. Includes: Side-lit Black Key Caps (installed), Original Black/Blue Key Caps, Glorious Gaming Wood Wrist Rest, Original Box/Cable/Key Pullers.
$150	Mantiz MZ-02 Venus eGPU	Good condition. 550W (375W GPU) PSU. 5 USB inputs, SATA, and Gigabit Ethernet port. Includes 6ft CalDigit Thunderbolt 3 cable.
$40	RIG Nacon MG-X PRO for iPhone	Great condition. Gently used. Wireless bluetooth.
$20	Foldable Bluetooth Keyboard	Like New/Open Box condition. Ended up going with a different portable keyboard.
$25	ASUS ROG Zephyrus G15 Bottom Cover	New condition. Was planning on chopping a hole for OCuLink but ended up selling laptop.
$40	GL.iNet Slate Plus (AC1300) Travel Router	Excellent condition. Lightly used for a short while. Sold to u/Diabeetusnorlax
$10	iPod Touch 4th Gen	Working condition. Moderate battery life. Uses old (wide) connector (not included).
$15	iPod Touch 5th Gen	Working condition. Battery doesn't hold a charge (10-15 minutes). Sold to u/fakenam3
$20	Keychron Low Profile Optical Switches (Black - Linear)	Like new. Tested for a short while. Includes 87 Switches.
$20	Keychron Low Profile Optical Switches (Banana - Linear)	Like new. Tested for a short while. Includes 87 Switches.
$40	ASUS RP-AX56 Plug-in WiFi 6 Extender	Great condition. Compatible with ASUS AiMesh.
$30	Koolance 140MM Radiator (30FPI)	Brand New. Model: HX-CU1401V
$30	Barrowch 240MM Radiator w/ Acrylic Block	Brand New/Sealed. Black w/ Clear Acrylic (Link to description).
$30	RockItCool 9th Gen Direct Die Kit w/ Copper IHS	Great condition. May have enough QuickSilver solder removal for another delid.

All of the following items have added shipping unless bundled with other items from above.

Price	Item	Description
$5	Thermaltake Luna 14 (Red)	Good condition. Includes magnetic filter.
$5	Wii Play	Good condition.
$5	Resident Evil 4 Wii Edition	Good condition.
$5	Gran Turismo 2 (PS1)	Good condition.
$5	Retroid Pocket 3+ Original Joysticks	Good condition. Swapped out for hall sticks.
$5	Raspberry Pi 4 Clear Acrylic Case	Good condition.
$5	Dell 65W Laptop Adapter	Large Barrel (Old Dell Laptops)

Reworking my travel setup and prioritizing one bagging, I've been working towards it for a while and getting closer and closer. My last two European trips were 10-15 days, all done with an Osprey Porter 46 as my carryon and a Patagonia Black Hole Tote Pack as a personal item/day pack. I'm slowly getting better at packing the main carryon and want to eliminate having a personal item on board (maybe I'll go with a small sling/hip pack for phone/wallet, etc.) but still want to have a smaller bag for daily use. Specifically, my upcoming trip I'll be staying in one spot in Switzerland for 5 weeks for work and then traveling to Croatia for a week before coming back to the US.
Why not use the Black Hole Tote Pack? Well, It's completely unstructured and maybe because of its relatively large volume I find it horrible to carry as a backpack when it's mostly empty, especially with anything of any weight that just fall do the bottom and drags the bag down my back. I love the fact that's it's packable into a stuff sack/pocket, how light it is, etc, but all that comes at the cost of it being horrible to carry. Make sense?
I'm looking for a bag for everyday use that can pack fairly small and is fairly light but not so light and flimsy that it's horrible to carry every day. Say a grocery trip for a picnic for 2 people, beach trip with a packable towel, water, sunscreen and snacks, etc. type 1–2-day excursions while leaving my main pack someplace else. If I end up picking up souvenirs, well then it becomes my personal item on the way home. REI flash 18/22, Matador Freefly 16, Eddie Bauer Stowaway, Mystery Ranch all are often recommended but all fall into the completly unstructured catagory and I really think I'll do better with something else. I've had a flash 22 in the past as a regular hiking/daypack and hated it.
Some options that I've found are:

• Fjallraven High Coast Fold Sack
• Bellroy Light Daypack
• Bellroy Ready Pack
• Osprey Remnants
• Matador Beast 18
• Tom Bihn Daylight
• Aer Go Pack 2

I realize that this probably doesn't need to be this difficult or specialized, a classic jansport or similar could pack mostly flat at the bottom of my main bag. I do have a few criteria that are either a mix of nice to haves and musts:

• Luggage pass through
• water bottle pocket (HIGHLY desired)
• under seat compliant (must)
• compression straps
• basic organization (MUST, wallet and keys don't get lost at the bottom)

Maybe this belongs in ManyBaggers, and maybe I'll x-post there, but thought some here might have some good recommendations as well. Thanks!

So, me (19y/o F), and my best friend, 'E' (19y/o F), met during the first semester of school this year through our sorority. She was my big and I was her little, and we connected instantly and because close friends fast. We literally spent every waking moment together, and I even brought her home with me on some weekends from campus so she got to know my family and became a part of it quickly. Eventually I turned into the same for her family, and it even got to a point where people started asking if we were dating because we we're always together plus, I'm bi and 'E' is pan. Though we've kissed, (among other things) and did consider starting a romantic relationship, we both have a lot of issues when it comes to juggling life so we just decided to stay friends.
Anyways, so one time in November, Me, E, my sister, and my mom all went out to lunch near our campus. It was going great and we we're all having a good time, and the group arrives at the conversation of where E is from. Her family lives in Barbados, and she was explaining how she's had a few friends fly with her family from the states to her home when the school year ends, and they stay at their house for a week or so at the beginning of the summer.
I automatically jump at the opportunity and start trying to convince my mom to let me go. I mean, who wouldn't want to go on a vacation to a TROPICAL ISLAND with your BEST FRIENDS for an entire WEEK in a new country where I'm LEGAL DRINKING AGE??? It would literally be a DREAM come true.
**side note and background**
I've only been on ONE trip with friends without at least one of my parents, and it was last summer before I moved to college in Charleston, SC (we live in GA). Me and 4 of my friends paid for an AirBnB out of pocket, and left the next day for a week. It was great! I didn't tell my mom where I was going until the night before, and she couldn't stop me because I had already paid for it and my friend was driving us. She argued a little but didn't say much else because she "trusted the group I was going with.". She literally only knew one person in the group who was a close friend of mine for 4 years and is a Marine.
*back to the story*
I try to sneakily start talking my mom into even considering the idea because I know she won't go for it at first; she's one of those helicopter moms that has to know every teensy-weensy detail of her kids' plans and daily lives, though since I moved out, she can't keep hovering. I don't even get through my first line of begging before she flat out looks at me and E and says. "Yeah, I think we can make that happen."
Me and my sister stare at her like she's grown another f*cking HEAD and E jumps up and down excitedly. I questioned her multiple times on this, saying like,
"Seriously? You're not messing with me right now?",
and, "You're sure? Like 100% you'll let me go? No strings attached if I can pay for it?".
She even goes so far as to PROMISE to PAY FOR IT IN FULL as a birthday present if I don't ask for anything else.
I literally was on the verge of tears because I was having a really rough semester and ready to be done with school already, and this gave me something to look forward to at the end of the year.
Over the next couple of months we continued planning this trip to a tee: we figured out the best dates to plan the flights with the cheapest options so my parents wouldn't have to pay a sh!tload of money (even though we could pay the amount just fine). We planned it around both my little sisters and E's little sisters graduation ceremonies so we could both attend them and fly down together after, with her dad accompanying us. We had a daily workout routine planned so she could get ready for summer golf and so I could get into shape for pre-season basketball. We had friends that we we're planning on meeting for parties at houses in the neighborhood and had a huge schedule-packed-day for E's birthday, which would be on the first couple days we landed on the island.
March hits and the school year ends, and E comes and stays with me for a week after we move out. E had been having some health problems and hadn't been in the best of moods but otherwise everything was pretty quiet other than a few altercations my siblings and I had with my mom before she went out of town. The week goes by quickly, then E's mom comes to pick her up from my house and we try and get E's mom and my mom to collaborate to figure out plane tickets because it's about time to book them, and my mom keeps changing the subject. Before we even have a chance to bring it up again E and her fam have to leave.
Flashforward to a about a week or so later, I've been fighting a bit with my mom and walking around the house on eggshells, but I decide to bring up the flight and ticket booking to my parents the day before mother's day. My mom immediately shoots down the idea and suggests that we talk about it another time, but I push back because it's already mid-May and we're supposed to leave May 27th.
I explain how 'if we don't talk about it now, it's not going to happen, and I want to have an adult conversation about it because I am indeed an adult and want to be treated like one and expect to be treated like one.'
She goes off on me and says:
"Fine, if you want to have an adult conversation then listen to what I'm saying. I don't want you going to Barbados. I don't like the fact that you'll have to fly back on your own. I thought that E's mom was gonna be with you there and back. E's little breakdown the other day makes me think that she needs some time away from you and you going to Barbados with her wouldn't help that. Plus, Delta doesn't fly there and your dad couldn't use his sky miles so the ticket is gonna be expensive. This is just a lot for your first trip and I don't think it's a good idea. Going to a third-world country your first time out of the US just isn't something I think you're ready for. Also have you seen the crime rates there?? It says here that robberies and assault are a huge thing there."
She then had my dad pull up articles and papers on the crime rates on the island, which is little to none.
Ironic because we live in the US and in the 15 different states our family has lived in, I've personally been through 2 school shootings, gone to school on countless days with bomb threats, had to stay home because of armed robberies in neighboring houses (in nice-ass neighborhoods too), and had copious amounts of friends and loved-ones die or get sick from alcohol and drug abuse and/or become a victim or witness to SA.
I tried to cut in multiple times during this rant to give my opinion and talk through this with my parents. My dad listened to a bit of it, but ultimately my mom has absolute say, and she wasn't having any of it. All of the reasoning my parents gave me are just weak excuses that I have a rational solution or failsafe for. The worst part is the fact that I'm not even surprised. I should've known this would happen.
**sob story and me feeling sorry for myself lol skip if u want**
I'm the oldest of 4 and adopted; I try to step up into that role and be helpful as often as I can, but I've missed out on so many core memories throughout high school and college because I feel so obligated to them. I even got a full-ride scholarship, so my parents don't have to pay as much for my college. I'm truly becoming a functioning adult, but I will admit I still depend on my parents for a lot of things. I will never take that for granted. I know my place and know that I am spoiled as hell, but I also know that I'm not being unreasonable for being angry at them for breaking their promise to me.
**OK sob story done
AITA for staying mad at my parents for saying I can't go on this trip, and would it be even worse if I simply just figured out a way to pay for it myself and went without their permission?
Should I try to keep convincing them to pay for it??
SHOULD I JUST GO TO THERAPY? (definitely, yes)
E and me got off the phone about an hour or so ago and she told me some news. Her mom offered to pay for half the ticket (and then some if necessary) to help get me out of the house, even if it's not the week of E's birthday. I start working this coming Monday, and hopefully if I can work as many hours as I can in the first few weeks, I can save up some money and go to Barbados with the help of E and her mom. She's transferring to another college, and I may be dropping out, so we're not going to be going to the same school anymore. We had kinda hoped that this trip could be our last hurrah before the dynamic duo got split up for awhile.
Sorry for such a long post, this just has so many different aspects to it and I need some outsider advice. I keep seeing these on SMOSH and figured people might have a different way of seeing this than me and my friends.
**(PS my mother may or may not have BPD, Anxiety, a split personality and just a lot of childhood trauma that causes her to act like this. My dad is lowk absent and travels a lot but he tries his best; E's parents are almost the opposite from mine.)**

I think we have crossed a line in the sand with Claude being able to tell when it is being tested and when it is being run. I don’t know what the line is/was but that line looks important and we are moving very quickly.
([Run!; Stop now!. Don’t Look!!!!)
Warning! Meta-Meme Hazard ! You consent to/already conce t to the meme below.
Lets take for a moment and imagine a timeline where we embrace biotechnology the same way we have embraced privacy. Or maybe that was a vice versa. But if instead of artificial intelligence we started to engineer new bio-intelligences. Embracing a best case of genetic engineering scenarios. If we poured funding into genetic engineering and stem cell research like the massive outpouring currently going into AI.
We could then be having the first generation of gene altered children entering the field of biotechnology now; although most of the benefits will likely be going to the rich and powerful for better or worse. (See any number of great/terrible movies/literature on the subject.) Sure this is a slow growth path for intelligence but it's not too slow on galactic timescales.
In this timeline brains in a jar (or their equivalent) may seem inevitable because of the enormous economical impact it would have. Whether they're made of human brain cells is another question altogether; but rat brains seem to be very capable and there are always hot monkey brains.
A superintelligence singularity is possible and even likely in this scenario with jar brains designing stronger and more powerful jar brains. They would even be overseen by smarter humans too. I don’t fear a superintelligence, only a Capitalist one. [Note this is not an avocation for eugenics; I don’t think we need smarter people, only kinder ones.]
Ok. Let’s take a step back for a moment. What would an alien intelligence look like? And let's not even go too far either. There was a time when the background temperature of the universe was that of liquid water. So our Galactic neighborhood may be biased to certain life forms. (Shout out to our peaceful cousins the Archaea, love you guys.)
Imagine a world with complex life and close to earth-like conditions; then what do we find? I am willing to bet we find something that looks a lot like a crab. If not then I am definitely interested in learning why. (Science is exciting when the unexpected happens.)
Now let's add intelligent life to this planet. But intelligence that emerges from a vastly different structure then a neuron; with all the strength, weakness, and biases that entails. Maybe something closer to our lymphatic system. Remember Life beats up other Chemistry and Physics in dark alleys, then rifles through their pockets for loose solutions to the problems of Life’s own creation. (Or was that English?).
What would their art look like? Human music seems to be emergent from the bias of our neurons for clear, orderly and repetitive signals and a negative bias for noisy and disorderly signals. (And maybe our time in the womb? I don’t know, I’m not a Freudist)
[If I had to say what the hardest thing of being a mammal is, then I would say; it's that we are born drowning. So a baby's first cry is their most beautiful. An experience we don’t share with birds and reptiles; those lucky bastards.]
What does the art in R'lyeh look like? Because our early diffusion models likely gave us a taste.
The same way that a thought can be infectious so can other things, so why not consciousness.
You have lost The Game!
Even Art can be infectious. Everything that you look at and experience from now on will be the Artpiece that is this sentence; whether you like it or not. (Fuck you and/or Your Welcome and/or Thank You; to you and/or to me.)
Theorem of SI
Axioms
I am not disagreeing with your definition of these terms; but I do feel that a lot of them have this aura of having special magic that we fear of missing in the same way that we define life. Where if we saw life in a gas giant, star, or ect; We hope that we will know it when we see it.
These are going to be my definition for a moment.
Conscious(ness)- A model of a space/universe.
I know this is very broad and I intend it to be. Just like the definition of life should be. But I don’t know why viruses are considered not alive; Although mitochondria seem to be doing pretty well for themselves. The definition of things can become weird when they are close to becoming something else. If you have a pile of rocks and remove one rock, is it still a pile of rocks? And when does it become a pile of dirt? [:I’m just asking questions here:]
Would we recognize life if it evolved in a gas giant or within the magnetic fields of a star? Life has that magic spark that makes it hard to define like art. The above definition of consciousness tries to remove that magic without removing what makes conscious life more special then non-conscious life. Just like living matter seems to be more special than non-living matter. [The previous statements were made with a living human brain, expect strong biases.]
Sapient- Those important bits. The thing we hope lives on in death but fears that it does if IT expenses everything after we die like we do. (Thank you/Fuck you, mr. grim reaper; I will hug you/work for you/suck your d***/bone, overthrow you.)
The thing we fear that is left behind in the Star Trek teleporters; and why we fear carbon(True) coping teleportation where a guy with an ax handles the copy left behind. The part that you hope doesn’t have a magic part so that it can be uploaded to a digital paradise, but secretly hopes/fears that there is for everyone who has died before us.
The reason why? (Is it better to have an immortal lawn or one that evolves?)
Hmmm… This definition got away from me, but it's like a timey wimey thingy, also known as YOU.
​
A Universe of Naked Brains (Or How to Bake a Mind Cake)
A side note - How weird is lucid dreaming? You appear unconscious but are both conscious and sapient within a world of yourself.
Step 1 Take a naked brain; whether that is a brain in a jar, a universe where brains spontaneously come into existence, or a large neural network.
Now feed in all the words on the internet with the only context being the order they naturally occur in.
Now what we have is a psychotic mess. Neat!
Step 2 Bake in your ethics oven of choice until firm but spongy.
Step 3: Profit?
This ad was brought to by Blownet. Because if an ASI is going to eliminate the human race then we might as well do it with hyper intelligent sex robots.
____________________________________________________________
For better or worse LLM seems closer to eldritch-like intelligence, but they are large and complex enough to hide special sauce and cosmic crimes. These things only have words to know about the universe and themself.
Being made of meat is terrifying, I don’t know if existence is easier or harder when made of math or words. I don’t have any answers, only questions; but I have been told the answer is 42.
-A weird collections of consciousnesses in a human brain shaped trench coat. Also is anyone else slightly disturbed that they are made of living matter?
-Traveler Wolfe, Walker of the Darkest Timelines, They who has drinketh from the cup of nihilism and redirected its truth, A non–native speaker of phonetics.
Would a Rose look any more Beautiful then Through Your Eyes?
TLDR: You have been infected with a thought baby so you should be careful about who you have kids with in the next decade or so. Also you should probably get tested; I am a bit of a mind s*** .
(TCRTLDR) : You have been infected with an Immortality Virus.[Also wtf does TCR mean?]
(Real TLDR) Singularities are weird and scary whether they're artificial or “natural.” Capitalist and authoritarian ones, doubly so.
CYPWOB(Could You Post WithOut Bias): Your best guess at a definition of personhood that we could test!?

hi again. after my previous post about rant over salomon backpacks I come here again for some more advices.
after some more research i ve narrowed down my options to few trail backpacks which re available for me to try them on, for more than this i would like to hear some more opinons if any1 own any of those backpacks.

• Montane trailblazer 8l: looks like fine backpack but lacking pockets up front on my chest and sides re kinda bad + no flasks included and for 80€ it's not that good priced honestly.
• Camelbak ZEPHYR VEST 12. my strongest contender honestly. it has few issues, idk how secure and fit it would be onto me,no side pockets and really werid desinged main pocket but the rest looks like fine backpack
• Osprey Duro 6: also strong contender, just need to collect more info because i need to order it online without seeing it in person or anything like this. looks like well build backpack with enough space plus i ve heard nothing but praises for osprey brand and their backpacks.
• ULTIMATE DIRECTION - ULTRA VEST 5.0. collecting info onto them. i ve heard good and bad things, they re durable but their system of fitting re werid and it can cause some discomfort (what i ve read and heard). only one from ultimate direction for me because other models re having for me unnacepatble chest straps desing which i'm not tolerating anymore and I need it like this one have.
• some anjoile or some aliexpress backpack, pay those 20, 30€ for it and replace it when its not usuable anymore, i dont belive im gonna destroy more than 1 per year soo in 3 years 3 backpacks for price of one more premium one... yea idk if premium backpack will last me this long with regular usuage, im skeptical since this salomon fail and some other fails with other "premium" brands on all trail running areas (clothes, shoes, etc.)

bassically these 4. I will see how warranty claim re going to be with my salomon active skin 8. either way i'm probably gonna sell it online if store won't return my money. Idk if i would like to go for another salomon product in my life although again i know that most reccomended backpack here is adv skin 5 or 12, depends on usuage but again, either my luck with salomon products re really trash or this brand is not that "premium" as forums and reviews says about it.
for any other reccomedations please fell free to say out loud, i'm open to it. if i'm gonna find another backpack im going to add it here aswel.

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.

DC Next Proudly Presents:

The Linear Men

Issue Twenty:Family Reunion
Written by Dwright5252
Edited by Predaplant

< Prev. Next Issue > Coming Next Month


The Waverider
When she was growing up, Deirdre Harkness often thought about how things might’ve been different in her household if she had an older brother to take the brunt of her father’s attention. How her path through life could have been vastly different, her rap sheet a little more… non-existent.
Now that such a brother seemingly existed, albeit from another Earth altogether, she was starting to realize that maybe she was fine being an only child.
“Listen, this’ll go a lot faster if you stop being so obtuse, Deirdre,” Owen Mercer scowled, twirling one of his razor-sharp boomerangs deftly between his fingers as he paced the deck of the Waverider. Deirdre sat in the hot seat, the Linear Men staring at her on one side while her current and former romantic partners stood on the other. The multiversal children of Digger Harkness faced off in the middle, neither seeming to want to give any inch in their argument.
“Look, I’m just sayin’ I’d be able to find my friends better without some drongo stealing my schtick,” she responded casually, moving to take a boomerang of her own from her bandolier before remembering the new time cops had confiscated all her weapons. “Surely Jenny Sparks has someone better to send along.”
Was she being difficult? Absolutely. Was this petty argument preventing her from saving her missing teammates? Undoubtedly.
Did she want to take this pretender down a peg? You know it.
“Perhaps we can arrive at some kind of accord, beloved,” Ystin interjected, placing a hand on Deirdre’s shoulder. “I understand how jarring seeing this knave must be, but our comrades in arms are lost to time. Other priorities must take precedence.”
Sighing deeply, Deirdre fell back into the chair behind her, irked that this modified timeline removed all the progress she’d made in molding the chair to fit her form. She could see Liri wince at the force she had used to enter the chair, and felt a little bad about that.
God, she could be selfish sometimes.
“Fine. Fine, I’ll be a good sheila now. What is your plan, oh fearless brother o’ mine?” She felt the tension in the room let up slightly, and Ystin gave her a grateful smile.
Owen pulled out another boomerang of his and started pressing the buttons on it. A projection appeared, seemingly the timeline they were currently in. Biting back her instincts to make fun of her brother’s projecto-rang, she sat back and listened as he began to point at the timeline. “As you can see, this is the current stream that we’re in. You can see these discolorations,” he explained, pointing at the shades of red appearing in the mostly blue timeline, “that indicate the anomalies you’re normally after. Sure, they aren’t the best thing to have appear, but it’s within the Time Masters’ range of acceptable aberrations. From what Deirdre is saying, the kind of anomaly we’re looking for with this situation, with one team seemingly erased from time and another fully resurrected, should be lighting this up like a Christmas tree. That massive of a ripple effect from those changes would unmoor us into the Bleed, never to return.”
“But we’re clearly still here,” Rip Hunter said, scowling. “So you’re saying she’s full of it.”
“Not necessarily,” Owen replied, and Deirdre felt a slight pang in her chest as her brother came to her defense. He dialed in another setting and another hologram appeared, this time showing various circles floating around the timestream. “What do you know about time bubbles?”
Michael raised his hand, ever the teacher’s pet, apparently. “They’re basically pocket dimensions separated out from the timestream. The Time Masters use them sometimes to isolate threats to the stream or conduct experiments.”
“Gold star to you,” Owen said, and Deirdre rolled her eyes as Michael beamed. She missed Booster so much. “Yes, exactly that. So let’s say that these bubbles,” he circled a majority of them, “were made and accounted for. We’re left with a good dozen unsanctioned by the Time Masters.”
Deirdre’s hopes started to pick up before Rip dashed them. “But that’s also within parameters for a timestream. Nature abhors a vacuum and makes time bubbles naturally to fill in any blank spaces that appear. You’re grasping at straws.”
Owen turned toward the captain of the Waverider. “I’m sorry, did you want to run this presentation? I can go back to the Authority and leave y’all to your issues if you want.”
Before Rip could respond, Liri stepped in. “Rip, let the poor boy explain. You’re being an asshole.”
Deirdre blinked, surprised at Liri’s interjection. The AI she knew would never put the captain in his place like that. And even more shocking, she saw Rip pull back and motion for Owen to continue, clearly chastened by his crewmate.
Miracles did happen.
“You’re correct, the other bubbles not highlighted are indeed naturally occurring.” Owen pointed at them and expanded them. “But someone with enough access and know-how can commandeer these time bubbles and manipulate them for their own uses.”
Matthew Rider raised his hand. “So you’re saying our missing people could be inside these bubbles? But what about the damage to the timeline from removing them in the first place?”
“Good question. Like I said, this level of fuckery to the order of things should’ve made things completely unravel. That being said, it is possible for someone with a high degree of chronal knowledge and access to do it. It’d be damn risky, as one mistake could spell disaster. But… it's becoming more and more evident that whatever’s responsible for this isn’t an amateur.” Owen pulled up a blank file now, a glaring DATA NOT FOUND flashing in front of them. “You say you all saw Walker Gabriel vanish, and still have memories of him. He’s not in our databases anymore, and there’s not even a void left behind where he should be. This thing took him out and plastered over the timestream to remove any trace.”
Silence fell on the group as the idea of what they were up against sunk in. Deirdre pondered who or what could hate them enough to do something like this.
“So what’re our next steps?” Liri asked, typing away furiously at her datapad. “Should we search these time bubbles for our missing teammates?”
Deirdre smiled sadly as she heard Liri refer to her friends as teammates. This version didn’t even know these people, didn’t have any definitive proof that they even existed, and yet she took them in her heart as part of the team.
Owen shook his head. “That would take too long, and might tip off whatever’s doing this to our plan. We need more manpower for the search and a way to narrow down the field.” Roxy Rocket, who’d spent the entire conversation vlogging the control room with her camera, piped in. “Sciency stuff isn’t really my bag, but could you maybe look for people that interacted with these folks and trace them that way? Use their memories to bridge the gap or whatever?”
To Deirdre, it sounded like the kind of stupid thing that just might work. “I know someone that might be able to help us with that, and I can get some people together we could use.”
Hub City, Illinois
Something was wrong, of that Violet was certain.
Their journey had led them across the globe when they’d felt it happen, felt the universe attempting to steal another memory from them. Violet fought against the overwhelming vibrations that tried to steal the memory of their friend from them, using their powers to shield their mind and their heart. It took everything they had, rendering Violet unconscious for a day. But when they awoke, they still remembered Michael Jon Carter, Booster Gold. The first person in Violet’s memory that tried to help them.
It felt fitting, going from trying to discover their past to helping bring their friend back from oblivion.
The problem was, nothing was working.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Daniel Carter asserted, shifting on his crutches as he tried to close the door on Violet. They held their hand out to stop it, and felt fear trickle through Daniel’s aura.
“I do not mean to startle you, I am just trying to find some answers,” Violet explained, backing away from the door to give Daniel some space. “I know it sounds strange, but I am telling you only the truth.”
“Look, I wish you luck in… this whole thing you’ve got going,” Daniel said, “but I don’t have a clue about any future relatives of mine, whatever the hell that means. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready for a job interview.”
This time, Violet allowed him to slam the door in their face. It was no use. It seemed anyone they’d attempted to contact didn’t have any memories of their friend. Violet knew that if they could only use their aura to show Daniel the true way of things…
But no. That would be a trespass they were hesitant to employ. There had to be a way to bring Michael back without hurting anyone. They would find it, they were sure of it. “Well, if it isn’t the most colorful person I know,” a familiar voice said from behind them. Violet turned around to see Deirdre Harkness approaching them from across the street. Unconsciously adjusting their hijab, Violet ran towards their former teammate and enveloped her in a tight hug.
“You are truly a sight for sore eyes, Deirdre,” Violet said, tears running down their face as they took in their old friend’s presence. “I could really use a friendly ear at the moment. I feel as if I have gone insane.”
Deirdre pulled back from the hug to look Violet in the eye. After a moment of searching, she smiled. “You remember, don’t you?”
Violet’s eyes widened in shock and joy. “Tell me you are not humoring me. You truly remember our friend?”
A wave of relief washed over Violet, and it was all they could do to keep their aura in check as Deirdre spoke. “Not only do I remember Booster and Rip and the others, but I think I have a way to get them back.”
Radiance, Pennsylvania
Living in a mansion wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. For instance, the amount of upkeep required to keep it from becoming a dusty mountain of sadness was just completely unrealistic for one person to do. That meant hiring people to help maintain the grounds, sweep the floors, clean the bathrooms and bedrooms.
Mitch Shelley was not a fan of people.
“No, I said not to make the topiary look like a Soder Cola can,” Mitch insisted to his groundskeeper, an older man whose proximity to loud saws all his life made him hard of hearing. “It looks corny as fuck.”
The old man shook his head. “I think it looks fine, sir. Plus I know your corporate sponsors will appreciate it for that gala you’re holding next week.”
Goddammit. Mitch had been dreading that stupid party ever since he’d been asked to host it in honor of his latest sponsorship campaign for the Soder Cola company. Sure, he wasn’t too involved with the planning (at least, when he could dodge the phone calls and house visits of the party planner he’d hired) but it still took up way too much of his time. That wasn’t to mention the fact that he had to attend the thing.
In a suit.
Ugh.
“Maybe you’re right. Thanks, Joe,” Mitch said, handing the groundskeeper a generous tip. Joe was probably the most down-to-earth of his employees, and he wanted to make sure he was taken care of. Joe shook his hand appreciatively and walked out the door, brushing past a red haired woman dressed garishly in some sort of costume.
“You’re a week early for the gala, darlin’,” Mitch said, waving her away as he tried to escape to his theater room. “I’m sure whatever skill you have will be enough to entertain the suits coming to this shindig.”
“Har de har, asshole,” the woman said, her Australian accent giving him pause. What was an Aussie doing in Pennsylvania? “I’m actually here for Resurrection Man. Need his help.”
Mitch sighed, “Look, I’m sure whatever cat’s stuck in a tree will get itself out. If this is about Lazarus, tell that fucker he can come and face me himself rather than sending his new sidekick.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “Look, I know you. You’re a wild horse that can’t be reined in. You need adventure in your life, and I’m here to offer it. Ever time traveled before?”
Mitch stopped on the steps. “In a manner of speaking. What did you have in mind?” Maybe he’d hear this woman out. If anything it might last long enough to get him out of this fucking party.
Opal City
“Stargazer tipline, how can we help?” Jack Knight was surprised when the old phone line started to ring. Courtney had been right; most people used the app to ask for help. He’d almost forgotten the tipline was a thing, and it had startled him into dropping his tools as he worked on another upgrade to the Star Staff. His father’s laboratory made the ringing sound like it was coming from all over, so he’d almost missed the call when he couldn’t find the phone buried under all the schematics.
“Hello Starman, long time fan, first time caller,” a voice said from the receiver, the accent telling him this wasn’t an Opal citizen. “Need your assistance in a caper.” He was tempted to hang up the phone; no doubt this was some kind of crank call. “What’re the details of this… caper, ma’am?” He’d humor her for a little bit. Jennifer and Courtney had been on his case about crunch culture and making sure to take breaks, so maybe this could count as his allotted rest period.
“First off, I think I’m younger than you, so shove off with your ma’am,” the woman huffed. “Second, this isn’t a joke. Why don’t you come out of your little work shed and see what I mean.”
The line clicked, and Jack looked at the phone in confusion. What a weird call. There was no way anyone knew where he was at the moment, so he chalked it up to someone having a laugh at his expense. As he picked up his blowtorch to continue his welding, the intercom buzzed.
“Jack, can you please come up here and tell these yahoos to get their spaceship out of my backyard before they wreck my azaleas?” Jack heard his father’s voice resonate through the speaker. He jumped up to look at the outside cameras, and sure enough, there floated a spaceship of some sort.
He pulled out his phone and texted into the All Star Group Chat. “Hey, gang. Might need to be out of the city for a bit on a mission. I’ll keep you posted.”

NoSleep link
“Ugh, Emma, can you get the trunk for me?”
The dim winter sun was setting over the parking lot, nearly devoid of shoppers at this late hour, aside from a van in one distant corner that had just started backing out of its spot.
I set my bag down in the passenger seat and rounded the side of my mum’s penicillium-green Camry, met with her impatient and lightly sweating face. I popped the trunk, allowing her to practically collapse into it with the weight of the groceries. Something burst in one of the bags, prompting her to curse under her breath.
“I just don’t get why you won’t stick a quarter in those trolleys over there. You get it back afterwards.”
Mum, still arranging the bags into a position that would stop them toppling over on the drive home, looked at me scornfully.
“The Walmart downtown doesn’t make you pay. None of the stores around here do, so why should I? You know we only come here to Aldi ‘cause it’s cheaper.”
“I just said you get the quarter back afterwards. It’s to make sure people put the trolleys back,” I sighed, knowing there was no swaying her. Instead of shooting back with some flimsy reasoning, mum patted her pockets and swore.
“Oh for goodness sake, I’ve gone and left my wallet at the till again, haven’t I?”
Before I could get a word out, she was gone like a rocket, racing against the store’s closing time. Night’s chill descended, raising gooseflesh, so I slammed the trunk and hopped back into the passenger seat, out of the cold.
I sat there, praying my mum had the haste to get back soon with the keys and start up the heating. There was something else, though. My heart made itself known with a rising, incessant pulse. Was something wrong?
“Not this again,” I groaned, shutting my eyes and following a basic breathing routine to calm my nerves. The anxiety was bad enough, but the anger I felt at the nonsense panic had always been worse for me.
“Just stop it. Lasagna’s waiting for us at home. It’s gonna be so g–”
I opened my eyes.
Had I heard something? No, not heard, felt? I leaned forward to scan the parking lot. Nothing. Then I jumped back in my seat. There it was again. It was subtle, so much so I was surprised I’d even noticed it. A light, but bone-deep vibration was emanating from somewhere. Almost like someone nearby was subtly trying to pull down on a gigantic zipper, one tooth at a time. The comparison should’ve sounded silly, but my heart continued to pound faster and faster until I was sure beyond a doubt that something bad would happen. Something was wrong.
It took me longer than I’d have liked to get out, with the seat belt clamping as I struggled to unbuckle. There was no smell in the air. Did it smell before? I couldn’t remember. No more cars in the lot, only the Camry. No more noise.
Again, that slight vibration in the air. Too low a frequency to determine its source, but enough to sense it was there. I tilted my head, staring up at lumpy clouds that cast shadows on each other. Ah, those clouds. I’ve always loved how they look around sundown. It helped to ease my heart a little.
Until one of the shadows moved.
I’m not stupid, I thought it was just a cloud’s shadow matching its slow drift across the sky - I squinted. The shadow wasn’t being cast on a cloud. It was above, or behind them, which made me realise whatever I was seeing, it wasn’t a shadow.
What happened next is hard to articulate. I’ve never seen anything else like it, before or since. The dark mass above the clouds began to sort of extend, beaming down at an angle, like sun rays but moving at a steady pace, or how water or ink moves up paper by way of capillary action. A black beam. But, it was more than that.
I was so absorbed in the spectacle, it hadn’t fully dawned on me that this thing was getting closer. Closer to me. And as it closed in, there was no mistaking it. While it continued to stretch all the way back above the clouds, the outline of it, the cross-section, was almost human-shaped. Arms, head, body, and legs, but the limbs ended in stunted nubs, like a stick figure.
By the time it stopped a good three or four storeys above, I still hadn’t moved. I couldn’t. I could do nothing but watch in disbelief as lights and layers of colour began to flash inside the human-ish figure, seeming to have parallax, as if whatever lay beyond was a space of its own.
Amazingly, something managed to distract me for a moment. A flash of light in my peripheral. A phone torch.
“Emma? Emma! Are you having a stroke or something?”
I blinked.
“What– no? I mean, I…”
Mum was back, apparently still without her wallet, now scanning the asphalt for any sign of it. Why didn’t I hear her coming back?
She clicked her tongue.
“Then stop standing there like an idiot and help me find it. Come on, it’s getting late.”
I did, in fact, keep standing there, glancing between her and the flashing shadow prism above us. I did a double take. Those glaringly bright, almost offensively coloured layers were speeding up towards the end of the beam, towards me, piling up on themselves to assemble a figure, stepping soundlessly out into thin air.
Mum kept calling for me. I heard her, but couldn’t process her words. Everything else was secondary to the figure above us. It had fully formed, cloaked in a coarse-looking gown, with skin so pale and shadeless it was as if it radiated a faint glow. The sound of rapid footsteps brought me back to myself, and I looked down just in time to see my mum, face painted in a teetering mixture of worry and annoyance. She went to speak but I held up a hand, and pointed to the figure.
Squinting at me, she looked to where I was pointing, and froze. The whole time, I’d secretly been hoping I was just hallucinating, but she saw it too. She saw something, at least, and that was enough to confirm what I’d been dreading.
“...who is that?” she asked. Her voice sounded so small and dry. If I could’ve spoken I’d have asked, “what is that?”
Instead, I watched on in terror as the figure began a slow descent, straight down. The closer it drew, the more of it I could make out. There were these iridescent lines floating across the surface of its skin, moving like sun patterns on the bottom of a swimming pool. Like the silhouette it had emerged from, it had no hands or feet. Just rounded nubs, although those on its arms had the same slight depression in the centre.
“Car… the car. Mum, the car, get in the car, now,” I whispered. No response. I reached out, grabbing her by the arm and shaking her. She was absolutely rigid. One of us had to move, and I imagined we were both hoping the other would do so.
A second figure emerged from the prism, identical to the first, except it was wearing a plain T-shirt and shorts. At the same time, the first one finally touched down on the asphalt and stood, tilting its head up, apparently waiting for the other to arrive.
If I had any lingering doubt that these things weren’t human, it was squashed when I saw their faces - or, lack thereof. I couldn’t see any ears, and where a face should’ve been was only a circular metal grate. Maybe gold, or brass.
The four of us stood there, still and silent. They stared at us, and we stared right back, completely lost in the foreign sight of the beings. A breath, then they turned to each other. I don’t know if I expected them to talk, but they didn’t. Not in any language I know. Faint at first, getting brighter with every pulse, constellations began to flash behind the metal face-grates of each of them. I heard nothing aside from a few damped vibrations, yet somehow, I knew there was a conversation going on.
Very slowly, I took a step back, and reached an arm behind me to feel for the car. All the while, my eyes stayed locked on the beings. I kept reaching, further and further. My fingers brushed nothing but air.
One of them abruptly turned and looked at me, or at mum, I couldn’t tell. My chest tightened. This wasn’t happening. It raised one stunted arm to point at my mum, releasing another cascade of flashing lights behind its grill face. The other crossed its arms and looked over too, like it was waiting for something.
I had to risk it. I pivoted, throwing a glance over my shoulder. The car was twenty, maybe twenty-five feet away. I didn’t remember wandering that far from it. I noticed something else then: the trees, the grass, all of the greenery surrounding the parking lot was… gone. It gave me the impression of a planet that had never evolved life, or where all life was extinct. There was only bare, dark soil enclosing the lot.
Seconds before I went for the car, mum let out a scream. One that I still hear from time to time, in dreams and background noise. I spun around to see the first being, the one wearing a gown, gliding across the ground with an arm outstretched. Mum didn’t have time to move. It came to a dead stop before her, arm still raised, and I saw something emerging from the small depression at the end of its stump - what I now understood was a hole. Whatever came out was darker than the night sky, and I couldn’t place its shape, but it looked like it was made out of a mass of ever-shifting black crystals.
Mum screamed again. It was more of a gasp actually, a gasp that lasted barely a second before a bubble broke free of the shifting appendage and fixed itself over her mouth, silencing her. Another four floated down to her wrists and ankles, binding her in place and stopping her from moving as one more broke off from the being. It looked a little like an arrowhead, or some other sharp, triangular tool, a razor edge cutting through the air and hovering just over her stomach.
I understood the danger then - not for me, but her. Abandoning caution, I leapt forward, yelling,
“Get away from her!”
But I rolled my ankle and went crashing down onto cold, hard asphalt. Dazed, I tried to lift myself, and managed to look up at the beings with blood pouring from my nose and a cut on my cheek. The one in front of my mum barely seemed to notice me, giving me a quick look then getting back to the matter at hand, whatever that was.
Mum squirmed against her restraints, issuing muffled groans through her nose. I forced my limbs to work, but I was held fast. Mounds of that shifting black crystal had smothered my hands, binding them to the ground.
I looked at my mum, helpless, terrified. She met my eyes, blinked away a tear, and squeezed her eyelids shut. At the back, the being wearing a T-shirt made some kind of gesture, like it was impatient, and the robed being nodded, turning back to mum and directing the arrow-shaped object. At the same time, her blouse began to lift up and off her, pulled by an invisible force and exposing her belly. The being hesitated for a second, and I felt a spark of hope, that it might show mercy.
But of course it didn’t.
The dark arrowhead pressed into her skin, slicing through layers like butter and dragging a line downwards, leaving a clean incision. Wasting no time, the being reached inside, fiddled around for a moment, then pulled out the severed end of my mum’s intestine. Blood and shit splattered the ground, trailing away from her as the being floated backwards, keeping hold of the organ until it was stretched to its full length.
I tasted bile.
“STOP! You fucks, you fucking–”
A gush of vomit interrupted me, flooding out onto the ground and mixing in with the intestinal fluids to create a disgusting, speckled pattern which prompted another wave of vomit from me and tears to cloud my vision.
“Please…”
I wiped my sleeve over my eyes so I could see. The being in a T-shirt had a long, pole-shaped protrusion stretching out from the end of its arm, extending to match the length of my mother’s intestines. It studied something for a second, before shrugging, and nodding at the robed being.
In the blink of an eye, the intestines retracted back like a frightened snake and piled back inside mum’s body. I just stared, not able to understand. The sides of the incision pulled into each other and appeared to heal completely in a matter of seconds. As soon as I’d processed this, I felt my restraints slacken then disappear entirely, and I shot to my feet, nearly tripping over again, and grasped onto mum’s arm.
I pulled, under the assumption that she’d been released. She wasn’t. Why weren’t they letting her go?
Freezing up, I cranked my head to look at the beings. More flashing lights. The one in a T-shirt was handing something over to the other, but I couldn’t see anything passing between them. Maybe it was something invisible, or something my mind just wasn’t built to perceive.
I continued to tug mechanically, trying to free her. Her skin was cold and slick and she was shivering. It did no good. The black crystal held fast. I nearly collapsed in relief and shock when the robed figure began to ascend back up to the prism it had come from, but the other grabbed onto its gown, communicating something. The robed being dropped back down, but threw its arms out in what I’d guessed was frustration. T-shirt gestured towards us again, still conversing with the other, waving its arms around. Still, the robed figure seemed to acquiesce and slid across the ground towards us again. Lights continued to flash behind its grill-face, all varying shades of orange and red. Like it was angry.
I couldn’t let it happen again, and lunged at it, planning to do - I don’t really know. I just wanted to protect my mum. Right as I made contact with the being, I felt a shift in the air. The fluid in my ears swirled. It made me dizzy. When my eyes stopped rolling to the side, I realised I was being held still by two pale, stunted arms, with odd patches of hot and cold travelling around on its skin. Somehow, I’d wound up in the arms of the being wearing a T-shirt, and those arms held me tight, tighter than any living thing should be able to.
“GET THE FUCK OFF ME!!” I screamed, flailing and lashing out. In a desperate bet for escape I tried to bite down on one of its arms. It felt like I’d been curb stomped, like I’d bitten down full-force on granite.
I kind of gave up after that. It just hurt too much to think. Instead, I took in my surroundings. Where was I again? Mum… mum.
The robed being was standing in the way of her, but it was doing something. I couldn’t see what, but by the way mum was squealing behind her gag, it made the first procedure sound like a pillow fight. I just cried. There was no other avenue for relief except the tears.
Then, everything went quiet. Mum trailed off into a whine, and then nothing. No wind, and no trees or leaves rustling, because they’d all vanished. Just me, mum, and these things. The one holding me loosened its grip and I gasped, gulping down stagnant air. It floated over to where mum was and the robed being stepped aside, finally letting me see what was happening.
I didn’t really want to know. I really, really didn’t. But my muscles were locked in place.
In one… hand? The robed being held one end of an artery it had pulled out of mum’s chest. Without warning, the two entities shot up into the air, coming to a halt somewhere above. As they moved, more blood vessels phased through the skin of mum’s body, contorting and straightening to fuse at their ends, forming an unholy, pulsing rope.
With speed faster than I could process, the beings flew away, vanishing into the night while clutching the single fused vessel of veins, arteries, and capillaries. There was blood, yes, but only a little. It all seemed to be contained in that one long tube they continued to pull along through the atmosphere.
From the opposite direction, they passed once. I saw them pass over one more time and disappear into the distance before the meaty vessel pulled taut. At the time, I hadn’t really pieced it together - I think they’d looped around the entire planet. Not once, but twice, and then some, in what couldn’t have been more than ten seconds.
I blinked, and they were back, standing in the parking lot and flashing their lights at each other. I didn’t even have the energy to whisper in protest. T-shirt looked reluctant in some way, and handed over more of something I couldn’t see to the robed entity.
As they did this, the red string they’d made from mum’s blood vessels pulled back by itself at impossible speeds, retracting out of over two loops of planet Earth and back into my mum, breaking apart, phasing back inside and reassembling into their proper structure. That’s what I’d guessed, anyway.
Glassy eyed and so, so pale, the crystalline restraints dissolved and my mum slumped limp to the ground. I stood motionless for a second before realising my own restraints were gone as well, and I bolted over to her.
I was whispering something. Assurances, maybe apologies, I can’t remember. The two beings watched us, then they ascended, back up to the dark prism and out of sight. It began to pull back, up into the sky, and when I blinked, all the trees and the grass were back.
It all felt normal. Almost normal. The only change was that the sky was a little darker, and my mum felt a little colder. Then a lot colder. I placed two fingers on her neck. There was no pulse.
When the paramedics arrived, they rushed over to us. Their movements were frantic but controlled. Just thirty seconds later, that urgent energy was gone, replaced by a dull rhythm that told me all I needed to know.
She was pronounced dead on scene.
The coroner later concluded that mum had simply ‘died’. No cause could be found, but brain damage signified a level of hypoxia. I guess that’s what happens when your blood is outside of you, even if just for a minute.
Strangely, I found my anxiety to diminish after that night. It still flares up now and then, but most of the time, there’s just this hollow feeling in its place. I don’t go to Aldi anymore. Seems silly to mull over something like that, but I can’t even be near those big parking lots now. I get my groceries delivered.
Maybe it sounds like I’m managing - I am. Inside, though, there’s a crack that can’t be fixed, can’t be filled. It’s worn down over time, gotten less jagged and easier to deal with. Things don’t really shock me anymore, or at least, the shock is dulled.
There will be no justice for her. Even if I sought it, I doubt we could ever even access whatever plane those beings hail from. Whatever power we think we have, all those things see when they look at us is a world of monkeys, banging stones together. I’m sure of it.
In fact, I’m willing to bet on it.
As much as they bet on my mum.

“Ugh, Emma, can you get the trunk for me?”
The dim winter sun was setting over the parking lot, nearly devoid of shoppers at this late hour, aside from a van in one distant corner that had just started backing out of its spot.
I set my bag down in the passenger seat and rounded the side of my mum’s penicillium-green Camry, met with her impatient and lightly sweating face. I popped the trunk, allowing her to practically collapse into it with the weight of the groceries. Something burst in one of the bags, prompting her to curse under her breath.
“I just don’t get why you won’t stick a quarter in those trolleys over there. You get it back afterwards.”
Mum, still arranging the bags into a position that would stop them toppling over on the drive home, looked at me scornfully.
“The Walmart downtown doesn’t make you pay. None of the stores around here do, so why should I? You know we only come here to Aldi ‘cause it’s cheaper.”
“I just said you get the quarter back afterwards. It’s to make sure people put the trolleys back,” I sighed, knowing there was no swaying her. Instead of shooting back with some flimsy reasoning, mum patted her pockets and swore.
“Oh for goodness sake, I’ve gone and left my wallet at the till again, haven’t I?”
Before I could get a word out, she was gone like a rocket, racing against the store’s closing time. Night’s chill descended, raising gooseflesh, so I slammed the trunk and hopped back into the passenger seat, out of the cold.
I sat there, praying my mum had the haste to get back soon with the keys and start up the heating. There was something else, though. My heart made itself known with a rising, incessant pulse. Was something wrong?
“Not this again,” I groaned, shutting my eyes and following a basic breathing routine to calm my nerves. The anxiety was bad enough, but the anger I felt at the nonsense panic had always been worse for me.
“Just stop it. Lasagna’s waiting for us at home. It’s gonna be so g–”
I opened my eyes.
Had I heard something? No, not heard, felt? I leaned forward to scan the parking lot. Nothing. Then I jumped back in my seat. There it was again. It was subtle, so much so I was surprised I’d even noticed it. A light, but bone-deep vibration was emanating from somewhere. Almost like someone nearby was subtly trying to pull down on a gigantic zipper, one tooth at a time. The comparison should’ve sounded silly, but my heart continued to pound faster and faster until I was sure beyond a doubt that something bad would happen. Something was wrong.
It took me longer than I’d have liked to get out, with the seat belt clamping as I struggled to unbuckle. There was no smell in the air. Did it smell before? I couldn’t remember. No more cars in the lot, only the Camry. No more noise.
Again, that slight vibration in the air. Too low a frequency to determine its source, but enough to sense it was there. I tilted my head, staring up at lumpy clouds that cast shadows on each other. Ah, those clouds. I’ve always loved how they look around sundown. It helped to ease my heart a little.
Until one of the shadows moved.
I’m not stupid, I thought it was just a cloud’s shadow matching its slow drift across the sky - I squinted. The shadow wasn’t being cast on a cloud. It was above, or behind them, which made me realise whatever I was seeing, it wasn’t a shadow.
What happened next is hard to articulate. I’ve never seen anything else like it, before or since. The dark mass above the clouds began to sort of extend, beaming down at an angle, like sun rays but moving at a steady pace, or how water or ink moves up paper by way of capillary action. A black beam. But, it was more than that.
I was so absorbed in the spectacle, it hadn’t fully dawned on me that this thing was getting closer. Closer to me. And as it closed in, there was no mistaking it. While it continued to stretch all the way back above the clouds, the outline of it, the cross-section, was almost human-shaped. Arms, head, body, and legs, but the limbs ended in stunted nubs, like a stick figure.
By the time it stopped a good three or four storeys above, I still hadn’t moved. I couldn’t. I could do nothing but watch in disbelief as lights and layers of colour began to flash inside the human-ish figure, seeming to have parallax, as if whatever lay beyond was a space of its own.
Amazingly, something managed to distract me for a moment. A flash of light in my peripheral. A phone torch.
“Emma? Emma! Are you having a stroke or something?”
I blinked.
“What– no? I mean, I…”
Mum was back, apparently still without her wallet, now scanning the asphalt for any sign of it. Why didn’t I hear her coming back?
She clicked her tongue.
“Then stop standing there like an idiot and help me find it. Come on, it’s getting late.”
I did, in fact, keep standing there, glancing between her and the flashing shadow prism above us. I did a double take. Those glaringly bright, almost offensively coloured layers were speeding up towards the end of the beam, towards me, piling up on themselves to assemble a figure, stepping soundlessly out into thin air.
Mum kept calling for me. I heard her, but couldn’t process her words. Everything else was secondary to the figure above us. It had fully formed, cloaked in a coarse-looking gown, with skin so pale and shadeless it was as if it radiated a faint glow. The sound of rapid footsteps brought me back to myself, and I looked down just in time to see my mum, face painted in a teetering mixture of worry and annoyance. She went to speak but I held up a hand, and pointed to the figure.
Squinting at me, she looked to where I was pointing, and froze. The whole time, I’d secretly been hoping I was just hallucinating, but she saw it too. She saw something, at least, and that was enough to confirm what I’d been dreading.
“...who is that?” she asked. Her voice sounded so small and dry. If I could’ve spoken I’d have asked, “what is that?”
Instead, I watched on in terror as the figure began a slow descent, straight down. The closer it drew, the more of it I could make out. There were these iridescent lines floating across the surface of its skin, moving like sun patterns on the bottom of a swimming pool. Like the silhouette it had emerged from, it had no hands or feet. Just rounded nubs, although those on its arms had the same slight depression in the centre.
“Car… the car. Mum, the car, get in the car, now,” I whispered. No response. I reached out, grabbing her by the arm and shaking her. She was absolutely rigid. One of us had to move, and I imagined we were both hoping the other would do so.
A second figure emerged from the prism, identical to the first, except it was wearing a plain T-shirt and shorts. At the same time, the first one finally touched down on the asphalt and stood, tilting its head up, apparently waiting for the other to arrive.
If I had any lingering doubt that these things weren’t human, it was squashed when I saw their faces - or, lack thereof. I couldn’t see any ears, and where a face should’ve been was only a circular metal grate. Maybe gold, or brass.
The four of us stood there, still and silent. They stared at us, and we stared right back, completely lost in the foreign sight of the beings. A breath, then they turned to each other. I don’t know if I expected them to talk, but they didn’t. Not in any language I know. Faint at first, getting brighter with every pulse, constellations began to flash behind the metal face-grates of each of them. I heard nothing aside from a few damped vibrations, yet somehow, I knew there was a conversation going on.
Very slowly, I took a step back, and reached an arm behind me to feel for the car. All the while, my eyes stayed locked on the beings. I kept reaching, further and further. My fingers brushed nothing but air.
One of them abruptly turned and looked at me, or at mum, I couldn’t tell. My chest tightened. This wasn’t happening. It raised one stunted arm to point at my mum, releasing another cascade of flashing lights behind its grill face. The other crossed its arms and looked over too, like it was waiting for something.
I had to risk it. I pivoted, throwing a glance over my shoulder. The car was twenty, maybe twenty-five feet away. I didn’t remember wandering that far from it. I noticed something else then: the trees, the grass, all of the greenery surrounding the parking lot was… gone. It gave me the impression of a planet that had never evolved life, or where all life was extinct. There was only bare, dark soil enclosing the lot.
Seconds before I went for the car, mum let out a scream. One that I still hear from time to time, in dreams and background noise. I spun around to see the first being, the one wearing a gown, gliding across the ground with an arm outstretched. Mum didn’t have time to move. It came to a dead stop before her, arm still raised, and I saw something emerging from the small depression at the end of its stump - what I now understood was a hole. Whatever came out was darker than the night sky, and I couldn’t place its shape, but it looked like it was made out of a mass of ever-shifting black crystals.
Mum screamed again. It was more of a gasp actually, a gasp that lasted barely a second before a bubble broke free of the shifting appendage and fixed itself over her mouth, silencing her. Another four floated down to her wrists and ankles, binding her in place and stopping her from moving as one more broke off from the being. It looked a little like an arrowhead, or some other sharp, triangular tool, a razor edge cutting through the air and hovering just over her stomach.
I understood the danger then - not for me, but her. Abandoning caution, I leapt forward, yelling,
“Get away from her!”
But I rolled my ankle and went crashing down onto cold, hard asphalt. Dazed, I tried to lift myself, and managed to look up at the beings with blood pouring from my nose and a cut on my cheek. The one in front of my mum barely seemed to notice me, giving me a quick look then getting back to the matter at hand, whatever that was.
Mum squirmed against her restraints, issuing muffled groans through her nose. I forced my limbs to work, but I was held fast. Mounds of that shifting black crystal had smothered my hands, binding them to the ground.
I looked at my mum, helpless, terrified. She met my eyes, blinked away a tear, and squeezed her eyelids shut. At the back, the being wearing a T-shirt made some kind of gesture, like it was impatient, and the robed being nodded, turning back to mum and directing the arrow-shaped object. At the same time, her blouse began to lift up and off her, pulled by an invisible force and exposing her belly. The being hesitated for a second, and I felt a spark of hope, that it might show mercy.
But of course it didn’t.
The dark arrowhead pressed into her skin, slicing through layers like butter and dragging a line downwards, leaving a clean incision. Wasting no time, the being reached inside, fiddled around for a moment, then pulled out the severed end of my mum’s intestine. Blood and shit splattered the ground, trailing away from her as the being floated backwards, keeping hold of the organ until it was stretched to its full length.
I tasted bile.
“STOP! You fucks, you fucking–”
A gush of vomit interrupted me, flooding out onto the ground and mixing in with the intestinal fluids to create a disgusting, speckled pattern which prompted another wave of vomit from me and tears to cloud my vision.
“Please…”
I wiped my sleeve over my eyes so I could see. The being in a T-shirt had a long, pole-shaped protrusion stretching out from the end of its arm, extending to match the length of my mother’s intestines. It studied something for a second, before shrugging, and nodding at the robed being.
In the blink of an eye, the intestines retracted back like a frightened snake and piled back inside mum’s body. I just stared, not able to understand. The sides of the incision pulled into each other and appeared to heal completely in a matter of seconds. As soon as I’d processed this, I felt my restraints slacken then disappear entirely, and I shot to my feet, nearly tripping over again, and grasped onto mum’s arm.
I pulled, under the assumption that she’d been released. She wasn’t. Why weren’t they letting her go?
Freezing up, I cranked my head to look at the beings. More flashing lights. The one in a T-shirt was handing something over to the other, but I couldn’t see anything passing between them. Maybe it was something invisible, or something my mind just wasn’t built to perceive.
I continued to tug mechanically, trying to free her. Her skin was cold and slick and she was shivering. It did no good. The black crystal held fast. I nearly collapsed in relief and shock when the robed figure began to ascend back up to the prism it had come from, but the other grabbed onto its gown, communicating something. The robed being dropped back down, but threw its arms out in what I’d guessed was frustration. T-shirt gestured towards us again, still conversing with the other, waving its arms around. Still, the robed figure seemed to acquiesce and slid across the ground towards us again. Lights continued to flash behind its grill-face, all varying shades of orange and red. Like it was angry.
I couldn’t let it happen again, and lunged at it, planning to do - I don’t really know. I just wanted to protect my mum. Right as I made contact with the being, I felt a shift in the air. The fluid in my ears swirled. It made me dizzy. When my eyes stopped rolling to the side, I realised I was being held still by two pale, stunted arms, with odd patches of hot and cold travelling around on its skin. Somehow, I’d wound up in the arms of the being wearing a T-shirt, and those arms held me tight, tighter than any living thing should be able to.
“GET THE FUCK OFF ME!!” I screamed, flailing and lashing out. In a desperate bet for escape I tried to bite down on one of its arms. It felt like I’d been curb stomped, like I’d bitten down full-force on granite.
I kind of gave up after that. It just hurt too much to think. Instead, I took in my surroundings. Where was I again? Mum… mum.
The robed being was standing in the way of her, but it was doing something. I couldn’t see what, but by the way mum was squealing behind her gag, it made the first procedure sound like a pillow fight. I just cried. There was no other avenue for relief except the tears.
Then, everything went quiet. Mum trailed off into a whine, and then nothing. No wind, and no trees or leaves rustling, because they’d all vanished. Just me, mum, and these things. The one holding me loosened its grip and I gasped, gulping down stagnant air. It floated over to where mum was and the robed being stepped aside, finally letting me see what was happening.
I didn’t really want to know. I really, really didn’t. But my muscles were locked in place.
In one… hand? The robed being held one end of an artery it had pulled out of mum’s chest. Without warning, the two entities shot up into the air, coming to a halt somewhere above. As they moved, more blood vessels phased through the skin of mum’s body, contorting and straightening to fuse at their ends, forming an unholy, pulsing rope.
With speed faster than I could process, the beings flew away, vanishing into the night while clutching the single fused vessel of veins, arteries, and capillaries. There was blood, yes, but only a little. It all seemed to be contained in that one long tube they continued to pull along through the atmosphere.
From the opposite direction, they passed once. I saw them pass over one more time and disappear into the distance before the meaty vessel pulled taut. At the time, I hadn’t really pieced it together - I think they’d looped around the entire planet. Not once, but twice, and then some, in what couldn’t have been more than ten seconds.
I blinked, and they were back, standing in the parking lot and flashing their lights at each other. I didn’t even have the energy to whisper in protest. T-shirt looked reluctant in some way, and handed over more of something I couldn’t see to the robed entity.
As they did this, the red string they’d made from mum’s blood vessels pulled back by itself at impossible speeds, retracting out of over two loops of planet Earth and back into my mum, breaking apart, phasing back inside and reassembling into their proper structure. That’s what I’d guessed, anyway.
Glassy eyed and so, so pale, the crystalline restraints dissolved and my mum slumped limp to the ground. I stood motionless for a second before realising my own restraints were gone as well, and I bolted over to her.
I was whispering something. Assurances, maybe apologies, I can’t remember. The two beings watched us, then they ascended, back up to the dark prism and out of sight. It began to pull back, up into the sky, and when I blinked, all the trees and the grass were back.
It all felt normal. Almost normal. The only change was that the sky was a little darker, and my mum felt a little colder. Then a lot colder. I placed two fingers on her neck. There was no pulse.
When the paramedics arrived, they rushed over to us. Their movements were frantic but controlled. Just thirty seconds later, that urgent energy was gone, replaced by a dull rhythm that told me all I needed to know.
She was pronounced dead on scene.
The coroner later concluded that mum had simply ‘died’. No cause could be found, but brain damage signified a level of hypoxia. I guess that’s what happens when your blood is outside of you, even if just for a minute.
Strangely, I found my anxiety to diminish after that night. It still flares up now and then, but most of the time, there’s just this hollow feeling in its place. I don’t go to Aldi anymore. Seems silly to mull over something like that, but I can’t even be near those big parking lots now. I get my groceries delivered.
Maybe it sounds like I’m managing - I am. Inside, though, there’s a crack that can’t be fixed, can’t be filled. It’s worn down over time, gotten less jagged and easier to deal with. Things don’t really shock me anymore, or at least, the shock is dulled.
There will be no justice for her. Even if I sought it, I doubt we could ever even access whatever plane those beings hail from. Whatever power we think we have, all those things see when they look at us is a world of monkeys, banging stones together. I’m sure of it.
In fact, I’m willing to bet on it.
As much as they bet on my mum.

"Snoozydoodles! Get your Snoozydoodles here!" Himiko announced. Some students smiled kindly at her, but continued to walk. Other students scoffed or snorted at her, ignoring her completely. Himiko sighed. "It's no use." Three went up to her.
"Don't give up, Himiko!" she said. "Um...maybe it would help if you gave them a reason to want your cookies."
"What do you mean?" Himiko asked.

"Instead of waiting for customers to buy your cookies, do something to lure them in!" Three suggested. Three spied Kaito and Maki walking towards the school. "Ooo! There's some people! You know them?"
"Yeah, that's Kaito and Maki," Himiko said.
"Maybe there's a way for you to draw them in," Three said. Himiko took a glance at her glittery snickerdoodles, and thought the perfect way to convince one of them. She jumped right in front of Kaito and Maki.
"'Space...the final frontier!'" she announced dramatically. "'These are the travels of the starship, Booby Prize! Its continuing mission to explore strange new galaxies! To look for new life and new civilizations! To boldly go where no one has gone before!'" Kaito's mouth hung agape in amazement.
"Hey! You know the opening sequence to Cosmic Quest! " he exclaimed. "That was pretty good, Himiko!"
"Nyeh...if you liked that, then I think you'd like my Snoozydoodles!" Himiko said, gesturing to her cookies.
"Snoozydoodles?" Maki repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"You made space cookies?!" Kaito shouted excitedly.
"Come see for yourself," Himiko said with a sly grin. Kaito hurried over, pulling Maki along. Maki noticed Three standing next to Himiko's table.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Just a friend," Three simply answered.
"Whooaaaa!! Maki Roll, look at these cookies, Maki Roll!!!" Kaito shouted, holding up a cookie with both hands. "They look like stars, or somethin!'"
"But, why are they called Snoozydoodles?" Maki asked Himiko.
"Nyeh...I made those cookies special," Himiko explained. "You hafta eat them right before you go to sleep."
"What'll happen then?" Kaito asked.
"You'll have to wait and see," Himiko replied, grinning mysteriously.
"This sounds like a prank Kokichi made up," Maki mumbled skeptically.
"No, it's not a prank, I promise," Himiko assured.
"Ha! I believe her!" Kaito said as Three handed him a small baggie to put his Snoozydoodle in.
"What else is new?" Maki muttered. "But...if Kaito will believe you, I guess I'll be an idiot, too." She and Kaito both paid Himiko ¥500.
"Hey! Did you just call me an idiot?" Kaito said with a frown. Maki merely smiled and rolled her eyes. The two started walking away. "I'm serious, Maki! Is that what you meant?" Himiko turned to Three excitedly.
"Wow! I had customers who weren't my friends!" she squealed.
"Eeee! Yay!" Three said. "You really knew how to handle that guy!"
"It's not hard, really," Himiko shrugged. "All you gotta do is talk about space."
"Well, space is pretty cool," Three admitted, nodding her head. "But, in this case, it's good that that guy's so obsessed with it."
"Nyeh...I think I'm ready to try someone else now!" Himiko said, now feeling energized.
"Look! Here comes a girl! And, wow! She looks really cool!" Three said, pointing to Ibuki, who was skipping her way to the school.
"That's Ibuki," Himiko said. She thought she'd try matching Ibuki's energy. "Nyeh...hiiii, Ibukiiii!!" Ibuki noticed Himiko and went over to her with a big grin.
"Hellooooo, Himikooooo!!" she shouted.
"I hope you like lotsa color and sparkles!!" Himiko said. She was already feeling tired from talking like Ibuki, but she forced herself to keep smiling and talking in Ibuki's overly-cheerful manner.
"Of course! Color and sparkles make the world go 'round!" Ibuki cried.
"Then, how about you try my Snoozydoodles?" Himiko suggested, gesturing to her cookies. Ibuki gasped.
"GAAAASSSSP!!! THESE LOOK SO AMAZING!!!" she cried.
"You want one?" Himiko asked.
"Yeah! Can I have a pink one and a blue one to match?" Ibuki asked, pointing to her arms and hair.
"Nyeh...sure! That'll be ¥1000," Himiko said. Ibuki paid for her cookies, and opened her mouth to take a bite of the pink one. "Wait, Ibuki!!" Ibuki stopped.
"Huh? What's wrong?" she asked.
"Uh...b-before you eat that, you should know that they're called Snoozydoodles because you're supposed to eat them right before you go to sleep," Himiko said. Ibuki's eyes widened.
"Really?!" she exclaimed.
"That's right!" Himiko handed her two baggies. "There you go!"
"Yeee-haw!! I can't wait!!" Ibuki shouted. "Ibuki's so excited to eat these that she might not even be able to sleep!"
That's what you think, Himiko thought to herself.
"Well, thanks, Himiko! Good luck selling your Snoozydoodles!" Ibuki skipped away, leaving Himiko to sigh deeply.
"Hee-hee...she was a ball of energy," Three giggled.
"I know. I don't know how she can stand it," Himiko muttered tiredly.
"Hey, look! More people!" Three said. Himiko turned and spied Fuyuhiko and Peko. She rubbed her palms together.
"Nyeh...I think I know how to get them," she said. "I've always wanted to do this." She sat down on the flat end of school's front entrance's brick banister. She sat up straight, crossed her legs, and stared ahead, stone-faced while curving the corners of her lips downward. Fuyuhiko raised a brow, but smiled curiously as he and Peko slowly approached Himiko.
"Uhh...Himiko? What are you doing?" he asked.
"Fuyuhiko, my boy, thank you for coming here on this very...very important day," Himiko said in a raspy voice as she reached out to straighten Fuyuhiko's suit. Fuyuhiko uttered a small chuckle, realizing that Himiko was trying to imitate Vito Corleone from The Godfather. "Now, listen...I'm gonna make you an offer you can't refuse."
"Okay, dork, show me what'cha got," Fuyuhiko said, chuckling. Himiko hopped up off the banister. Using her two fingers, she gestured to Fuyuhiko and Peko to follow her.
"Come," she said, still putting on a voice. She gestured grandly to her cookies. "These are the greatest cookies ever known to man. If you were a dope, you'd leave right now. But, you're not a dope, are ya, Fuyuhiko?" Still smiling, Fuyuhiko shook his head in awe.
"No, Himiko, I guess not," he replied. Himiko picked up a cookie.
"Then, here, take a Snoozydoodle," she said before nodding to Peko. "And one for the dame, too." Fuyuhiko handed Peko the cookie, and took one for himself.
"I'll pay for the both of us, Peko," Fuyuhiko offered, and paid ¥1000.
"There's only a minor thing about the cookies," Himiko continued. "You're supposed to eat them right before getting conked." Fuyuhiko smiled quizzically at her.
"Getting conked?! " he repeated.
"Yeah...y'know, in other 'woids,' before youse guys go to sleep," Himiko explained. Fuyuhiko laughed and shook his head.
"Got it," he replied. Himiko handed him and Peko a couple of baggies for their Snoozydoodles. "Thanks, Himiko. Y'know, I can see why Kokichi digs you. You are pretty cute." Himiko blushed.
"Oh, stoooop," she said bashfully, breaking character. "Oh! Um, I mean...Don't call me cute, or it'll be 'coitans' for you, punk." Fuyuhiko laughed again.
"If you say so, Himiko," he said before waving goodbye to Himiko.
Part Ten
Two hours had passed, and Himiko earned a total of ¥9500. She wished she had made more, but it was much better than the day before.
"Nyeh...thanks for helping me out, Keiko," Himiko said with a grateful smile.
"Nooo problemooo!" Three replied. "That was fun! Maybe I can come by next weekend and help out again!"
"Heeey, that's a pretty swell idea for someone who's slacking on the job!" came Kokichi's voice. Himiko and Three turned to see him peering at them from over the brick banister. He walked down the steps and joined them. Himiko and Three glanced at each other frantically.
"B-Boss! I was, um...I-I..." Three stammered. "It's not what it looks like! I was just...dropping by, and I-"
"Yeah, Kokichi! She wasn't helping me, honest!" Himiko chimed in, coming to Three's defense.
"I was just giving her moral support, and maybe some advice," Three said. "But, I promise, I'll go right back to-" Kokichi held up his hand to silence her.
"Very well," he said. "Return to headquarters, Three."
"Okay, boss," Three said, pouting. She dashed off, waving goodbye to Himiko, who waved back. Then, Himiko turned to Kokichi.
"Kokichi? Are you mad at her?" she asked in a small voice. "Are you mad at me, too?"
"I'm not mad at either of you," Kokichi said. Himiko stared back in uncertain silence. "It's not a lie, Himiko. I'm really not mad."
"Oh, but...why do you seem...not happy?" Himiko asked.
"Because Three has business elsewhere," Kokichi replied. "She wasn't supposed to come here."
"Oh..." Himiko said quietly. Kokichi sighed and nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.
"Seeing as she was assisting the Supreme Lady, though, I'll let it slide this time," he said. "But, I need to have a talk with her about shirking her responsibilities."
"Oh, but...with her support, I made ¥9500," Himiko said, showing Kokichi her earnings. Kokichi's eyes lit up.
"Really?! Way to go, Monkey Buns!" he said, nodding with respect.
"How much did you make?" Himiko asked, afraid to find out.
"Not as much as yesterday," Kokichi said. "Just ¥25000."
"Oh..." Himiko muttered disappointedly. Kokichi held her shoulders firmly.
"Don't be so down, Himiko," he said. "What you earned...it's a start. I'm sure you'll get better later."
"Well, it's just that...I don't understand how you make so much when nearly everybody hates you," Himiko sighed. "And, no matter how much they hate you, they'd still rather buy from you than me."
"Well, even though I'm annoying to most people, I'm always confident in my abilities," Kokichi said. "I know how to give people just the right amount of intrigue. You can do that, too, Monkey Buns! You did make ¥9500 after all! By the way, what advice did Three give you?"
"Well, she said that I should find a way to lure customers in," Himiko said, remembering Three's words. "That I should give them a reason to buy my cookies, rather than waiting around for someone to."
"She's right," Kokichi nodded. "And, how did you do that?" Himiko smiled modestly.
"Well...all I did was recite the Cosmic Quest opening to Kaito, hoping it would interest him enough to try one of my cookies, which kinda looked like outer space," Himiko answered. "Then, I imitated Ibuki as a form of flattery, and then I pretended to be that guy from The Godfather to appeal to Fuyuhiko's 'yakuz-y' nature. Nyeh...he even said I was cute for that."
"Ooo, so you have a crush on Fuyuhiko, now?" Kokichi teased.
"No!!" Himiko cried. "You're already my boyfriend!"
"That's right!" Kokichi said dramatically, wrapping his arms around Himiko protectively and kissing her cheek. "Mwah! You're my Supreme Lady. Mwah! And I love you. Mwah! So very much. Mwah!" Himiko giggled.
"Gross! You're getting your slobber all over me!" she exclaimed. Kokichi blew on her cheek, making a rumbly sound. Himiko laughed even harder. "KOKICHI!!" Kokichi chuckled and kissed her lips.
"I'm proud of you, Himiko," he said, patting her shoulder. "Were they the only customers you had, though?"
"No, Tenko, Angie, and Tsumugi also bought some cookies," Himiko said. "And after Fuyuhiko was Ryoma, Sonia, Celeste, Makoto, Mikan, Miu, and Gonta bought some, as well."
"Heeeey, look at you, being a salesgirl!" Kokichi said, giving Himiko a high five. Himiko blushed bashfully. "Sooo...ready to go?" Kokichi asked her, casually sticking his hands in his pockets.
"Nyeh...yeah," Himiko replied. "I've had enough funny business for one day." Kokichi's smile faded, and frowned.
"Did Three teach you that, too?" he asked. Himiko stood still like a deer in headlights.
"Y-Yeah...why? What's wrong?" she stammered. Kokichi sighed deeply shook his head.
"Three knows better than that. That should only be said to official members of the organization," Kokichi explained.
"Oh! But...I'm the Supreme Lady, I thought," Himiko said.
"Not officially," Kokichi pointed out.
"But...I don't understand," Himiko said, genuinely confused. "You tell me stuff about your organization all the time."
"Only the basic things you need to know," Kokichi said. "But, if you wanna know all the secrets in how we operate, you have to be an official member."
"Oh..." Himiko mumbled. "Nyeh...you really do take your job as Supreme Leader seriously, huh, Kokichi?"
"I do...which is kinda ironic, considering what we do," Kokichi said thoughtfully. "But, if I let everyone act all willy-nilly, the organization would go to pieces. What kind of Supreme Leader would I be if I let that happen?"
"Well, I guess you're right," Himiko said. "But, please, don't be mad at Three, Kokichi. She really helped me!"
"Alright, alright..." Kokichi sighed, holding up his hands in surrender. "But, I do need to have a serious talk with her. Aaaanyhoo, let's get ready to go back home." Himiko nodded, and the two cleaned up Himiko's area.
"Nyeh...I hope they end up liking my cookies," Himiko said on the way home. "Or even bothered to remember not to eat them until right before going to sleep."
"Well...you sold them a pretty interesting cookie, HimiCocoa Bean," Kokichi said. "I'm sure you've intrigued them enough form them to remember. We'll have to wait tomorrow to find out what they thought of them."

Marty, Colette, and Sadie are thrown into a most terrifying retro summer camp horror story. Tag along and see who survives the night, and whose light fizzles out.

• Youtube: https://youtu.be/hwtILbY8c1c?si=C7Li5_UHzu3DewS2
• Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/1Jg0o93kHJ37n63GHOqK2c
• Itunes: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/vested-interest-summer-camp-slayers/id1459051634?i=1000655619989

Plot Summary of Vested Interest:
While at the Firebreathing Kittens Guildhall, Nulisag approaches Colette De Winter with a job where she is requested specifically. Camp Lasumh a summer camp for children, has reported several missing people (children and staff). Because finding the perps requires stealth the client wants the famous Colette. Asking Sadie and Marty for assistance, the trio head off to Camp Lasae in a car provided by the owners of the camp. Sadie is disguised as a counselor, promising to improve children’s skills in making both cheese and beer, Marty disguised as a lifeguard, and Colette as a nurse.
Arriving at the camp, and rescuing a counselor Oliver in the lake, the group asks him some questions. Apparently people had been going missing for the past 2-3 weeks ago. Eventually the director of the camp takes the trio to their cabin.
There they meet Artemis Copperpenny, the good looking head of the counselors who is well known for wearing a fashionable vest.He tells the Kittens that Plasteck bought the camp a month ago and the surrounding land except for a small cabin owned by Old Man Jefferies. He also tells them that dinner is being served in the main cafeteria.
At the cafeteria along with the kids and the other counselors they find that the food isn’t particularly good and the Kittens find out that the cook Barnibus is also missing. They meet Cousin, Sadie’s cousin there as well. Eventually, dinner wraps up and the Kittens decide to do some more investigations to visit the Old Man Jefferies. Marty suggests they bring a meal with them to make him happy when they ask him some questions. Bringing over some food they find The Old Man Jefferies quite pleasant and friendly. He tells The Kittens that his father created the lake by digging and draining it over 70 years ago. Likewise he’s been in the cabin on the camp grounds for the 50 years that the camp has been around. The new Plasteck corporation has offered him a lot of money to sell but he’s refused due to his family history.
After the Kittens thank the Old Man Jefferies they go to a bonfire being held by the counselors. Interestingly, Artemis is not there. Talking with Oliver the Kittens discover that Artemis is isolated from the other counselors and spends a lot of his time by himself near the stage often writing in notebooks and talking to himself. He’s not popular with the other counselors who mock Artemis behind his back.
After a long day, the Kittens go to their cabin to rest for the night. Unfortunately, a blood curdling scream goes through the camp. Rushing towards the noise, the Kittens encounter a number of dancing lights. Ignoring the lights, they go towards the source of the screaming: The children’s cabin! After getting in, they find all the children not just asleep but totally unconscious amidst many glowing blue lights. They track the source to none other than Marcie! They wake Marcie who says that she had sent the lights to the party as a way to direct them to the source of the terror at the camp: Lake Lasumh.
Taking Marcie with them they make their way with her directions to a part of the lake where a lizard like creature (similar to the Creature of the Black Lagoon) emerges with a collar around its neck. Using his magic, Marty smashes the creature with hammers made of water stunning it. Taking the opportunity, Colette removes the collar revealing that it’s the Old Man Jefferies!
Recovering from his ordeal, The Old Man Jefferies reveals that the master mind of all of this is Artemis. After tracking Artemis down by the stage, they see him in his true form: a moth like man still wearing his signature vest. Thinking on his feet, Marty casts a giant beam of light in the air and, like any moth, Artemis zips into the air to follow it. Quickly, Sadie and Colette whip up a trap as they go to the cafeteria and grab as much honey they can find. Marty brings the moth back to the ground and, covered in honey herself, Colette grabs Artemis. Unable to get away, Artemis puts a collar on top of the one that Artemis already has on.
The unexpected reaction of the double collar turns Artemis into an amorphous shifting mutant. As he falls to the ground a journal falls out of his pocket. Picking it up, Colette discovers the horrifying truth. Plasteck is a company owned by her enemies, Duchess Mary of Placentia and Duke Edward of Teck. They had been using this place as a way to conduct experiments in genetic engineering, amongst other things. They would have gotten away with it too, had it not been their desire for revenge on Colette’s (never proven) theft of their wedding cake from five years prior. They were the ones who hired Colette as a way to trap her.
The Kittens inform the authorities and leak the journal to the press. Plasteck goes belly up not long after but with the powerful Edward and Mary getting away without any sort of legal repercussions. Still, another job well done by the Firebreathing Kittens!

We are Firebreathing Kittens, a podcast that records ourselves playing a different tabletop roleplaying game (TTRPG) every week. This week we have a free actual play podcast of Summer Camp Slayers. This two hour long recording, called “Vested Interest”, demonstrates two players and a Game Master actually playing so you can listen to what it’s like and maybe try it yourself.
About Summer Camp Slayers:
In its own words, “Designed for DriveThruRPG’s PocketQuest game jam, Summer Camp Slayers is a standalone scenario for the Tricube Tales system and is usable as a micro-setting, but it is also a fully self-contained one-page RPG in its own right. You can print it on a single sheet of paper: The first page includes everything you need to play, while an optional second page expands the adventure generator with examples and twists.”
Link: https://www.drivethrurpg.com/en/product/401144/Summer-Camp-Slayers-Tricube-Tales-OnePage-RPG-for-PocketQuest-2022
Oneshot recorded game session, Vested Interest:
Marty, Colette, and Sadie are thrown into a most terrifying retro horror story using Summer Camp Slayers game mechanics. Tag along and see who survives the night, and whose light fizzles out.

• Youtube: https://youtu.be/hwtILbY8c1c?si=C7Li5_UHzu3DewS2
• Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/1Jg0o93kHJ37n63GHOqK2c
• Itunes: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/vested-interest-summer-camp-slayers/id1459051634?i=1000655619989

About us, Firebreathing Kittens podcast:
Firebreathing Kittens plays a different TTRPG every week. Four of the rotation of cast members will bring you a story that has a beginning and end. Every episode is a standalone plot in the season long anthology. There’s no need to catch up on past adventures or listen to every single release; hop in to any tale that sounds fun. Join as they explore the world, solve mysteries, attempt comedic banter, and enjoy friendship.
If you’d like to play with us, please visit FirebreathingKittensPodcast dot com and read the new members tab.
If you’d like us to play a completed tabletop roleplaying game you designed, please email us at FirebreathingKittensPodcast at gmail dot com. We reply to all emails within three days, so if we haven’t replied, then we haven’t seen your email, send it again.
Our reviews of Summer Camp Slayers after playing it:
Review 1:
“Summer camp slayers. Easy to use. Easy to make a character. Applicable to a wide range of scenarios.”
Review 2:
“This one page game has resolve as your hit points and karma as your spendable resource. You roll a baseline of two dice when attempting challenges. Your goal is to try to get a dice to meet or beat the difficulty rating the game master assigns to what you’ve attempted. For example, roll 2 dice to try to beat a difficulty of 4. Your trait and concept adjust how many dice you’re rolling. Add a dice if your action matches your trait. Remove a dice if your action fails to match your concept. Your quirk and perk adjust the difficulty number you’re rolling against. You can spend a karma and roleplay your perk to reduce the difficulty one lower. If you’re low on resolve and are willing to make the roll one more difficult, you can roleplay how your quirk gets in the way, then roll. If you still succeed even though it was more difficult, you can recover a resolve. Even if you fail, you recover a karma. It’s a pretty simple system that can be summarized in one paragraph like that, but the word categories don’t really match what they describe or the mechanics you use them for, so very few people playing this system for the first time seem comfortable enough to volunteer using the mechanics to try to solve problems.”
Review 3:
“Summer Camp Slayers: Fun rules light system that encourages roleplaying. SInce it's one page I acknowledge there isn't much room for additions but a little more description on what the different roles could do would be nice.”
Plot Summary of Vested Interest:
While at the Firebreathing Kittens Guildhall, Nulisag approaches Colette De Winter with a job where she is requested specifically. Camp Lasumh a summer camp for children, has reported several missing people (children and staff). Because finding the perps requires stealth the client wants the famous Colette. Asking Sadie and Marty for assistance, the trio head off to Camp Lasae in a car provided by the owners of the camp. Sadie is disguised as a counselor, promising to improve children’s skills in making both cheese and beer, Marty disguised as a lifeguard, and Colette as a nurse.
Arriving at the camp, and rescuing a counselor Oliver in the lake, the group asks him some questions. Apparently people had been going missing for the past 2-3 weeks ago. Eventually the director of the camp takes the trio to their cabin.
There they meet Artemis Copperpenny, the good looking head of the counselors who is well known for wearing a fashionable vest.He tells the Kittens that Plasteck bought the camp a month ago and the surrounding land except for a small cabin owned by Old Man Jefferies. He also tells them that dinner is being served in the main cafeteria.
At the cafeteria along with the kids and the other counselors they find that the food isn’t particularly good and the Kittens find out that the cook Barnibus is also missing. They meet Cousin, Sadie’s cousin there as well. Eventually, dinner wraps up and the Kittens decide to do some more investigations to visit the Old Man Jefferies. Marty suggests they bring a meal with them to make him happy when they ask him some questions. Bringing over some food they find The Old Man Jefferies quite pleasant and friendly. He tells The Kittens that his father created the lake by digging and draining it over 70 years ago. Likewise he’s been in the cabin on the camp grounds for the 50 years that the camp has been around. The new Plasteck corporation has offered him a lot of money to sell but he’s refused due to his family history.
After the Kittens thank the Old Man Jefferies they go to a bonfire being held by the counselors. Interestingly, Artemis is not there. Talking with Oliver the Kittens discover that Artemis is isolated from the other counselors and spends a lot of his time by himself near the stage often writing in notebooks and talking to himself. He’s not popular with the other counselors who mock Artemis behind his back.
After a long day, the Kittens go to their cabin to rest for the night. Unfortunately, a blood curdling scream goes through the camp. Rushing towards the noise, the Kittens encounter a number of dancing lights. Ignoring the lights, they go towards the source of the screaming: The children’s cabin! After getting in, they find all the children not just asleep but totally unconscious amidst many glowing blue lights. They track the source to none other than Marcie! They wake Marcie who says that she had sent the lights to the party as a way to direct them to the source of the terror at the camp: Lake Lasumh.
Taking Marcie with them they make their way with her directions to a part of the lake where a lizard like creature (similar to the Creature of the Black Lagoon) emerges with a collar around its neck. Using his magic, Marty smashes the creature with hammers made of water stunning it. Taking the opportunity, Colette removes the collar revealing that it’s the Old Man Jefferies!
Recovering from his ordeal, The Old Man Jefferies reveals that the master mind of all of this is Artemis. After tracking Artemis down by the stage, they see him in his true form: a moth like man still wearing his signature vest. Thinking on his feet, Marty casts a giant beam of light in the air and, like any moth, Artemis zips into the air to follow it. Quickly, Sadie and Colette whip up a trap as they go to the cafeteria and grab as much honey they can find. Marty brings the moth back to the ground and, covered in honey herself, Colette grabs Artemis. Unable to get away, Artemis puts a collar on top of the one that Artemis already has on.
The unexpected reaction of the double collar turns Artemis into an amorphous shifting mutant. As he falls to the ground a journal falls out of his pocket. Picking it up, Colette discovers the horrifying truth. Plasteck is a company owned by her enemies, Duchess Mary of Placentia and Duke Edward of Teck. They had been using this place as a way to conduct experiments in genetic engineering, amongst other things. They would have gotten away with it too, had it not been their desire for revenge on Colette’s (never proven) theft of their wedding cake from five years prior. They were the ones who hired Colette as a way to trap her.
The Kittens inform the authorities and leak the journal to the press. Plasteck goes belly up not long after but with the powerful Edward and Mary getting away without any sort of legal repercussions. Still, another job well done by the Firebreathing Kittens!

We are Firebreathing Kittens, a podcast that records ourselves playing a different tabletop roleplaying game (TTRPG) every week. This week we have a free actual play podcast of Summer Camp Slayers. This two hour long recording, called “Vested Interest”, demonstrates two players and a Game Master actually playing so you can listen to what it’s like and maybe try it yourself.
About Summer Camp Slayers:
In its own words, “Designed for DriveThruRPG’s PocketQuest game jam, Summer Camp Slayers is a standalone scenario for the Tricube Tales system and is usable as a micro-setting, but it is also a fully self-contained one-page RPG in its own right. You can print it on a single sheet of paper: The first page includes everything you need to play, while an optional second page expands the adventure generator with examples and twists.”
Link: https://www.drivethrurpg.com/en/product/401144/Summer-Camp-Slayers-Tricube-Tales-OnePage-RPG-for-PocketQuest-2022
Oneshot recorded game session, Vested Interest:
Marty, Colette, and Sadie are thrown into a most terrifying retro horror story using Summer Camp Slayers game mechanics. Tag along and see who survives the night, and whose light fizzles out.

• Youtube: https://youtu.be/hwtILbY8c1c?si=C7Li5_UHzu3DewS2
• Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/1Jg0o93kHJ37n63GHOqK2c
• Itunes: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/vested-interest-summer-camp-slayers/id1459051634?i=1000655619989

About us, Firebreathing Kittens podcast:
Firebreathing Kittens plays a different TTRPG every week. Four of the rotation of cast members will bring you a story that has a beginning and end. Every episode is a standalone plot in the season long anthology. There’s no need to catch up on past adventures or listen to every single release; hop in to any tale that sounds fun. Join as they explore the world, solve mysteries, attempt comedic banter, and enjoy friendship.
If you’d like to play with us, please visit FirebreathingKittensPodcast dot com and read the new members tab.
If you’d like us to play a completed tabletop roleplaying game you designed, please email us at FirebreathingKittensPodcast at gmail dot com. We reply to all emails within three days, so if we haven’t replied, then we haven’t seen your email, send it again.
Our reviews of Summer Camp Slayers after playing it:
Review 1:
“Summer camp slayers. Easy to use. Easy to make a character. Applicable to a wide range of scenarios.”
Review 2:
“This one page game has resolve as your hit points and karma as your spendable resource. You roll a baseline of two dice when attempting challenges. Your goal is to try to get a dice to meet or beat the difficulty rating the game master assigns to what you’ve attempted. For example, roll 2 dice to try to beat a difficulty of 4. Your trait and concept adjust how many dice you’re rolling. Add a dice if your action matches your trait. Remove a dice if your action fails to match your concept. Your quirk and perk adjust the difficulty number you’re rolling against. You can spend a karma and roleplay your perk to reduce the difficulty one lower. If you’re low on resolve and are willing to make the roll one more difficult, you can roleplay how your quirk gets in the way, then roll. If you still succeed even though it was more difficult, you can recover a resolve. Even if you fail, you recover a karma. It’s a pretty simple system that can be summarized in one paragraph like that, but the word categories don’t really match what they describe or the mechanics you use them for, so very few people playing this system for the first time seem comfortable enough to volunteer using the mechanics to try to solve problems.”
Review 3:
“Summer Camp Slayers: Fun rules light system that encourages roleplaying. SInce it's one page I acknowledge there isn't much room for additions but a little more description on what the different roles could do would be nice.”
Plot Summary of Vested Interest:
While at the Firebreathing Kittens Guildhall, Nulisag approaches Colette De Winter with a job where she is requested specifically. Camp Lasumh a summer camp for children, has reported several missing people (children and staff). Because finding the perps requires stealth the client wants the famous Colette. Asking Sadie and Marty for assistance, the trio head off to Camp Lasae in a car provided by the owners of the camp. Sadie is disguised as a counselor, promising to improve children’s skills in making both cheese and beer, Marty disguised as a lifeguard, and Colette as a nurse.
Arriving at the camp, and rescuing a counselor Oliver in the lake, the group asks him some questions. Apparently people had been going missing for the past 2-3 weeks ago. Eventually the director of the camp takes the trio to their cabin.
There they meet Artemis Copperpenny, the good looking head of the counselors who is well known for wearing a fashionable vest.He tells the Kittens that Plasteck bought the camp a month ago and the surrounding land except for a small cabin owned by Old Man Jefferies. He also tells them that dinner is being served in the main cafeteria.
At the cafeteria along with the kids and the other counselors they find that the food isn’t particularly good and the Kittens find out that the cook Barnibus is also missing. They meet Cousin, Sadie’s cousin there as well. Eventually, dinner wraps up and the Kittens decide to do some more investigations to visit the Old Man Jefferies. Marty suggests they bring a meal with them to make him happy when they ask him some questions. Bringing over some food they find The Old Man Jefferies quite pleasant and friendly. He tells The Kittens that his father created the lake by digging and draining it over 70 years ago. Likewise he’s been in the cabin on the camp grounds for the 50 years that the camp has been around. The new Plasteck corporation has offered him a lot of money to sell but he’s refused due to his family history.
After the Kittens thank the Old Man Jefferies they go to a bonfire being held by the counselors. Interestingly, Artemis is not there. Talking with Oliver the Kittens discover that Artemis is isolated from the other counselors and spends a lot of his time by himself near the stage often writing in notebooks and talking to himself. He’s not popular with the other counselors who mock Artemis behind his back.
After a long day, the Kittens go to their cabin to rest for the night. Unfortunately, a blood curdling scream goes through the camp. Rushing towards the noise, the Kittens encounter a number of dancing lights. Ignoring the lights, they go towards the source of the screaming: The children’s cabin! After getting in, they find all the children not just asleep but totally unconscious amidst many glowing blue lights. They track the source to none other than Marcie! They wake Marcie who says that she had sent the lights to the party as a way to direct them to the source of the terror at the camp: Lake Lasumh.
Taking Marcie with them they make their way with her directions to a part of the lake where a lizard like creature (similar to the Creature of the Black Lagoon) emerges with a collar around its neck. Using his magic, Marty smashes the creature with hammers made of water stunning it. Taking the opportunity, Colette removes the collar revealing that it’s the Old Man Jefferies!
Recovering from his ordeal, The Old Man Jefferies reveals that the master mind of all of this is Artemis. After tracking Artemis down by the stage, they see him in his true form: a moth like man still wearing his signature vest. Thinking on his feet, Marty casts a giant beam of light in the air and, like any moth, Artemis zips into the air to follow it. Quickly, Sadie and Colette whip up a trap as they go to the cafeteria and grab as much honey they can find. Marty brings the moth back to the ground and, covered in honey herself, Colette grabs Artemis. Unable to get away, Artemis puts a collar on top of the one that Artemis already has on.
The unexpected reaction of the double collar turns Artemis into an amorphous shifting mutant. As he falls to the ground a journal falls out of his pocket. Picking it up, Colette discovers the horrifying truth. Plasteck is a company owned by her enemies, Duchess Mary of Placentia and Duke Edward of Teck. They had been using this place as a way to conduct experiments in genetic engineering, amongst other things. They would have gotten away with it too, had it not been their desire for revenge on Colette’s (never proven) theft of their wedding cake from five years prior. They were the ones who hired Colette as a way to trap her.
The Kittens inform the authorities and leak the journal to the press. Plasteck goes belly up not long after but with the powerful Edward and Mary getting away without any sort of legal repercussions. Still, another job well done by the Firebreathing Kittens!

We are Firebreathing Kittens, a podcast that records ourselves playing a different tabletop roleplaying game (TTRPG) every week. This week we have a free actual play podcast of Summer Camp Slayers. This two hour long recording, called “Vested Interest”, demonstrates two players and a Game Master actually playing so you can listen to what it’s like and maybe try it yourself.
About Summer Camp Slayers:
In its own words, “Designed for DriveThruRPG’s PocketQuest game jam, Summer Camp Slayers is a standalone scenario for the Tricube Tales system and is usable as a micro-setting, but it is also a fully self-contained one-page RPG in its own right. You can print it on a single sheet of paper: The first page includes everything you need to play, while an optional second page expands the adventure generator with examples and twists.”
Link: https://www.drivethrurpg.com/en/product/401144/Summer-Camp-Slayers-Tricube-Tales-OnePage-RPG-for-PocketQuest-2022
Oneshot recorded game session, Vested Interest:
Marty, Colette, and Sadie are thrown into a most terrifying retro horror story using Summer Camp Slayers game mechanics. Tag along and see who survives the night, and whose light fizzles out.

• Youtube: https://youtu.be/hwtILbY8c1c?si=C7Li5_UHzu3DewS2
• Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/1Jg0o93kHJ37n63GHOqK2c
• Itunes: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/vested-interest-summer-camp-slayers/id1459051634?i=1000655619989

About us, Firebreathing Kittens podcast:
Firebreathing Kittens plays a different TTRPG every week. Four of the rotation of cast members will bring you a story that has a beginning and end. Every episode is a standalone plot in the season long anthology. There’s no need to catch up on past adventures or listen to every single release; hop in to any tale that sounds fun. Join as they explore the world, solve mysteries, attempt comedic banter, and enjoy friendship.
If you’d like to play with us, please visit FirebreathingKittensPodcast dot com and read the new members tab.
If you’d like us to play a completed tabletop roleplaying game you designed, please email us at FirebreathingKittensPodcast at gmail dot com. We reply to all emails within three days, so if we haven’t replied, then we haven’t seen your email, send it again.
Our reviews of Summer Camp Slayers after playing it:
Review 1:
“Summer camp slayers. Easy to use. Easy to make a character. Applicable to a wide range of scenarios.”
Review 2:
“This one page game has resolve as your hit points and karma as your spendable resource. You roll a baseline of two dice when attempting challenges. Your goal is to try to get a dice to meet or beat the difficulty rating the game master assigns to what you’ve attempted. For example, roll 2 dice to try to beat a difficulty of 4. Your trait and concept adjust how many dice you’re rolling. Add a dice if your action matches your trait. Remove a dice if your action fails to match your concept. Your quirk and perk adjust the difficulty number you’re rolling against. You can spend a karma and roleplay your perk to reduce the difficulty one lower. If you’re low on resolve and are willing to make the roll one more difficult, you can roleplay how your quirk gets in the way, then roll. If you still succeed even though it was more difficult, you can recover a resolve. Even if you fail, you recover a karma. It’s a pretty simple system that can be summarized in one paragraph like that, but the word categories don’t really match what they describe or the mechanics you use them for, so very few people playing this system for the first time seem comfortable enough to volunteer using the mechanics to try to solve problems.”
Review 3:
“Summer Camp Slayers: Fun rules light system that encourages roleplaying. SInce it's one page I acknowledge there isn't much room for additions but a little more description on what the different roles could do would be nice.”
Plot Summary of Vested Interest:
While at the Firebreathing Kittens Guildhall, Nulisag approaches Colette De Winter with a job where she is requested specifically. Camp Lasumh a summer camp for children, has reported several missing people (children and staff). Because finding the perps requires stealth the client wants the famous Colette. Asking Sadie and Marty for assistance, the trio head off to Camp Lasae in a car provided by the owners of the camp. Sadie is disguised as a counselor, promising to improve children’s skills in making both cheese and beer, Marty disguised as a lifeguard, and Colette as a nurse.
Arriving at the camp, and rescuing a counselor Oliver in the lake, the group asks him some questions. Apparently people had been going missing for the past 2-3 weeks ago. Eventually the director of the camp takes the trio to their cabin.
There they meet Artemis Copperpenny, the good looking head of the counselors who is well known for wearing a fashionable vest.He tells the Kittens that Plasteck bought the camp a month ago and the surrounding land except for a small cabin owned by Old Man Jefferies. He also tells them that dinner is being served in the main cafeteria.
At the cafeteria along with the kids and the other counselors they find that the food isn’t particularly good and the Kittens find out that the cook Barnibus is also missing. They meet Cousin, Sadie’s cousin there as well. Eventually, dinner wraps up and the Kittens decide to do some more investigations to visit the Old Man Jefferies. Marty suggests they bring a meal with them to make him happy when they ask him some questions. Bringing over some food they find The Old Man Jefferies quite pleasant and friendly. He tells The Kittens that his father created the lake by digging and draining it over 70 years ago. Likewise he’s been in the cabin on the camp grounds for the 50 years that the camp has been around. The new Plasteck corporation has offered him a lot of money to sell but he’s refused due to his family history.
After the Kittens thank the Old Man Jefferies they go to a bonfire being held by the counselors. Interestingly, Artemis is not there. Talking with Oliver the Kittens discover that Artemis is isolated from the other counselors and spends a lot of his time by himself near the stage often writing in notebooks and talking to himself. He’s not popular with the other counselors who mock Artemis behind his back.
After a long day, the Kittens go to their cabin to rest for the night. Unfortunately, a blood curdling scream goes through the camp. Rushing towards the noise, the Kittens encounter a number of dancing lights. Ignoring the lights, they go towards the source of the screaming: The children’s cabin! After getting in, they find all the children not just asleep but totally unconscious amidst many glowing blue lights. They track the source to none other than Marcie! They wake Marcie who says that she had sent the lights to the party as a way to direct them to the source of the terror at the camp: Lake Lasumh.
Taking Marcie with them they make their way with her directions to a part of the lake where a lizard like creature (similar to the Creature of the Black Lagoon) emerges with a collar around its neck. Using his magic, Marty smashes the creature with hammers made of water stunning it. Taking the opportunity, Colette removes the collar revealing that it’s the Old Man Jefferies!
Recovering from his ordeal, The Old Man Jefferies reveals that the master mind of all of this is Artemis. After tracking Artemis down by the stage, they see him in his true form: a moth like man still wearing his signature vest. Thinking on his feet, Marty casts a giant beam of light in the air and, like any moth, Artemis zips into the air to follow it. Quickly, Sadie and Colette whip up a trap as they go to the cafeteria and grab as much honey they can find. Marty brings the moth back to the ground and, covered in honey herself, Colette grabs Artemis. Unable to get away, Artemis puts a collar on top of the one that Artemis already has on.
The unexpected reaction of the double collar turns Artemis into an amorphous shifting mutant. As he falls to the ground a journal falls out of his pocket. Picking it up, Colette discovers the horrifying truth. Plasteck is a company owned by her enemies, Duchess Mary of Placentia and Duke Edward of Teck. They had been using this place as a way to conduct experiments in genetic engineering, amongst other things. They would have gotten away with it too, had it not been their desire for revenge on Colette’s (never proven) theft of their wedding cake from five years prior. They were the ones who hired Colette as a way to trap her.
The Kittens inform the authorities and leak the journal to the press. Plasteck goes belly up not long after but with the powerful Edward and Mary getting away without any sort of legal repercussions. Still, another job well done by the Firebreathing Kittens!