Vostro 1510 number lock light blinking fast

https://www.reddit.com/Paranormal/comments/1csoshh/faceless_figure_in_a_white_hoodie/
Faceless Figure In a White HoodieMay 15th 2024, 16:17, by br1ghts1de89
When I was 12, my family was living in a suburb of Nashville, TN. It was a typical summer morning where I ran downstairs to shove some breakfast in my mouth before running down the street to my friend's house to hang out. As I'm eating breakfast and telling my mom where I was going, she was acting very strange and asking a lot of questions about wanting to know specifically where I was going to be, who I was going to be with, and to call her when I got there. She was never this particular about knowing the specifics of my whereabouts, and I could tell something was bothering her, so I asked why she was acting so weird.
She first tries to brush it off, but my mom and I were pretty close so I kept prodding. She finally shares with me that she just feels off because of a nightmare she had the night before. The details of her dream are below from my mom's perspective:
I "woke up" in our house and our dog was downstairs whining and scratching at the front door as if she had to go to the bathroom. So I put on my robe, walked downstairs, and opened the front door so Emma (the dog) could go out into the front yard and do her business. As I was standing on the front steps of the house waiting for Emma to finish, I looked down our street and saw a person in a white hoodie and dark jeans walking up the street towards our house. Every time they would walk under one of the street lights, the light would go out, leaving the rest of the street behind them in darkness. I scooped up Emma and went inside. I locked the front door and went upstairs to look out the window to make sure this person kept going past our house. This person just stopped right in the middle of the street in front of our house, looking directly towards the window as if it knew I was there. I couldn't see his face under the hoodie, but I felt so unsettled and unsafe; like it was staring right at me and almost into me. Then I woke up.
After my mom shares this story, I just brush it off as a weird dream and reassure her that I will be with my friend and will call her when I get to his house. Fast forward to later that afternoon, my friend and I walk down to the front of our neighborhood where an elementary school is. The back part of the playground had a chain link fence that you could hop over to go into the woods. If you followed the steep slope down through the woods, you would eventually end up at a creek that we would often hang out to find arrowheads, weird bugs, stuff like that. As we were hiking our way down through the woods, we stopped at a halfway point that was a long clearing for a four-wheeler trail that ran pretty far left and right and was just a straight path down. As we stopped for a moment in this opening, my friend and I both saw something white, very far down the path, dash uphill between the tree lines going extremely fast. Way too fast with how steep the hill was and how densely wooded this area was. From what we thought we could tell, it looked to be about the size of a small deer, but we really weren't sure.
Seeing that blurred movement of something white in the distance set off the memory of my mom's dream that she told me earlier that morning. I didn't tell my friend anything about it, but I felt a little freaked out and just said we should go the other direction down the four wheeler trail to get back to a spot of the fence at the playground so we could leave the woods and just go play video games at his house. So we leave the woods, go about our day, and say we'll see each other tomorrow.
The next day, my friend and I meet up again and want to go back to the woods and down to the creek. As we're walking across the school's playground towards the fence line to hop back over into that four wheeler path, we see something hanging on the fence. As we get closer, we see that there is a white hoodie hanging on the fence at the exact spot that we left the woods the day before. I never told my friend exactly why, but from that day on I never went back into those woods.
This event happened over 20 years ago now. I never really shared it with anyone until a couple nights ago with some friends and my wife, and their reactions have sent me on a bit of a journey trying to research if anyone else has reported something similar. I've never tried to put this experience into writing, so hopefully this all is easy to follow. If anyone else has had experiences with being followed or watched by a figure in a white hoodie or something like this, I would love to hear your stories.
submitted by br1ghts1de89 [link] [comments]

Well, I didn’t think things would come this far or have to be like this. I want to start off by saying that I am not perfect, I do make plenty of mistakes and i will continue to make mistakes. I’m writing this because a coworker of mine decided to make a post about me and completely lied.
I work for Jo-Ann fabrics and I love it, I love the atmosphere and I love the people- the customers and coworkers. Well, except one. For privacy I will call her Regina because she acts like work is the mean girls movie. I started working for this company October of 2023, I was hired in as the full time key holder. I do have a four year old that goes to school and due to kids having germs my daughter was sick a lot so I did have to call in, I don’t have much help babysitter wise so I HAD to stay home to take care of her. I didn’t call in every other day it was like twice every so often. Regina didn’t like that and resented me for choosing to take care of my daughter rather than work, so she told our boss that she should have the position because she doesn’t have a kid and would be available more. Our boss talked to me so I sacrificed the position so she could have it, now I’m not mad, upset or jealous that I don’t have the full time position it’s just hard to make a living working part time hours only making 10.55 an hour. If I knew what was to come I would have NEVER sacrificed the full time position. I do have a steady babysitter now so I’m working as much as I can so I can provide for my daughters need, kids are expensive and my daughters birthday is coming up so I asked for extra hours.
Days after Regina and I switched positions she started to act like she was made out of gold, like a golden child would. She would ALWAYS rub it in my face that she now was the full time key holder and always bragged how much more an hour she makes. She would ask all of our coworkers what their pay was and then would tell them how much she makes. I don’t care how much she makes, though higher pay would make my living situation easier. I grew up poor so I already adapted to a life of poverty and I’m honestly okay with it, sometimes it’s harder than other times but I make it work with what I have. Money to me is just paper, I can’t take it to the grave with me. Regina stoped me in the back room and said “I hope your not mad” I asked “why would I be mad” Regina replied with “because I make way more money than you” I smiled “well, I honestly don’t care. I couldn’t care less about money” Regina’s face got sour and cold because she knew she wasn’t getting under my skin. She replied with “oh, I thought you were”. I chuckled and said “no” and continued what I was doing.
Some time goes where nothing was happening but I could feel that something was brewing. It was the calm before the storm is what I’d call it. Now around this time I was going through a break up and was not feeling the best in my own skin and Regina knew this and used it as her ammunition. She started to call me her fat friend and then gave me hugs, I felt awkward because I do not like to be touched due to some very tramatic events . I’m bigger, I’m not skinny but I’m also not severely obese. Regina started to poke me and grab my fat and jiggle it. The first time she did, it was in front of two other female coworkers. They weren’t nice either, I’ll call them Gretchen and Karen, they were all in on this. When Regina grabbed my fat and giggled it Gretchen and Karen watched and laughed. I asked Regina “what are you doing” she responded with “I just wanted to feel how squishy it is”. Me being a non confrontational person I say “oh, don’t do that” still being nice and smiling, though I felt what was left of my self esteem completely shatter. I brushed it off and walked up to where all three of the mean girls were to ask a question about work since I was the only one doing something. Before I could even ask the question Gretchen goes behind me, makes a fist and lightly punched my back fat making it jiggle. All the girls laugh, I could feel my face getting hot and tears forming in my eyes as my heart sank to my stomach. I went to the bathroom for a moment to gather myself. This would go one for weeks, and every time it happened I would ask her to stop or to leave me be, each time she disregarded what I asked. During this time she would tell every coworker that I was a bad worker, I didn’t do what I was supposed to and if I did I would do a horrible job. There are so many other things she has said to others one that hurt the most was her saying it was annoying that I talk about my daughter so much. Now this whole time I thought we were friends, I’m a very forgiving person and I’m super nice even to people who don’t deserve it so when I heard about everything she was saying I was hurt I was so confused because she even asked to be my daughters god mother though she was never in my daughters life. I know friends don’t treat friends like that but I was just happy I could call someone a friend after years of having no one due to becoming a mom and losing myself in motherhood. I call my kindness and willingness to forgive a blessing and a curse because it truly is.
After finding out about everything she was saying, the drama and the physical touching which is actually bulling and harassment I finally went to my boss. It took me almost two months to tell her what was going on and how I felt. I hated every second explaining the torment to her, my boss is a lovey person and is super sweet. I couldn’t imagine how she felt hearing all of this, I truly felt like I was going to puke. I was so uncomfortable I couldn’t bear to work any longer without the help of my boss. My boss did talk to Regina and she said that she seems like she will be better and will stop the nonsense. A day after she was talked to Regina poked my back fat and laughed, she was shocked at how I responded. This time I wasn’t nice I turned to her and pretty much yelled “don’t touch me” she immediately apologized. I was surprised with how I responded as well, I actually stood up for myself and it felt nice. I did tell my boss she touched me again so Regina was talked to again and was extremely pissed. She started acting really passive aggressive, avoiding me and slamming things and being rude to everyone even customers. Me, being the nice person I am I decided that I would forgive her. Dumb of me, I know. I wrote her a four or five page letter explaining how everything made me feel , how bad of a friend she was and that I would teach her how to be a good friend. I even bought her a candle and some other stuff along with the letter I went as far as going over to her house to help her clean. She cried a lot when she read the letter and cried to me saying how bad of a friend she was, I hugged her back and said that it was okay and I forgive her. After that is was okay for a while until I witnessed her take drinks without paying for them and told my boss. After this, it was like a war.
I have never gotten in trouble with anyone, anywhere with anything, I guess I’m a goodie-two-shoes. Though I do have anger problems I have found ways to cope and deal with my anger, I’ve been working really hard to not get angry at Regina even though she deserves to hear what the mama bear side of me wants to say. I want to be gentle, I want to be nice and forgiving, I don’t want to be angry. But I knew I had to set some sturdy boundaries in order to keep my sanity. These past few weeks have been hell, in summary I caught her talking bad about me to my boss, she was lying about me, blaming me and others for things we didn’t do. With one situation in particular she turned the tables , when hearing this my adrenaline started to course through my veins, I stared to shake so bad. I went up to her and told her that was not how the story went. She got so scared seeing me so mad and shaking. She apologized to our boss for lying but not to me, my other coworker helped me calm down and thank god she did because I was going to quit right there and then. To summarize other things she has done I will just list them -tried to frame another coworker for theft to the point the coworker cried to our boss -tried to take credit for the work I did -talks bad about other managers and workers in other stores -gave out the phone numbers and emails of our hr and of our boss’s boss -made me work off the clock to train new people because she didn’t want to train them -purposely trained me wrong and is hesitant with teaching me new things to the point my boss has to and when I learn she gets mad and jealous because she’s threatened by my work ethic -yelled at me in front of a customer to the point the customer came back to complain about Regina to our boss and another coworker
And so many more but, the most recent is her blaming me for not locking the doors at close when it was her that didn’t do it correctly, the alarm company called my boss at night and the cops came to our Joanns and everything. I have several eye witnesses watch her do it. I told my boss to watch the cameras because I have nothing to lie about and Regina still is trying to blame me. This is where I draw the line, I will not forgive her so easily this time. Forgiveness without changed behavior is just manipulation. I am not the only one who has complained about her, many of our coworker have switched their availability to when I work or when my boss works because they don’t want to deal with Regina. Tension is very high and I’m afraid of what is to come.

Well, I didn’t think things would come this far or have to be like this. I want to start off by saying that I am not perfect, I do make plenty of mistakes and i will continue to make mistakes. I’m writing this because a coworker of mine decided to make a post about me and completely lied.
I work for Jo-Ann fabrics and I love it, I love the atmosphere and I love the people- the customers and coworkers. Well, except one. For privacy I will call her Regina because she acts like work is the mean girls movie. I started working for this company October of 2023, I was hired in as the full time key holder. I do have a four year old that goes to school and due to kids having germs my daughter was sick a lot so I did have to call in, I don’t have much help babysitter wise so I HAD to stay home to take care of her. I didn’t call in every other day it was like twice every so often. Regina didn’t like that and resented me for choosing to take care of my daughter rather than work, so she told our boss that she should have the position because she doesn’t have a kid and would be available more. Our boss talked to me so I sacrificed the position so she could have it, now I’m not mad, upset or jealous that I don’t have the full time position it’s just hard to make a living working part time hours only making 10.55 an hour. If I knew what was to come I would have NEVER sacrificed the full time position. I do have a steady babysitter now so I’m working as much as I can so I can provide for my daughters need, kids are expensive and my daughters birthday is coming up so I asked for extra hours.
Days after Regina and I switched positions she started to act like she was made out of gold, like a golden child would. She would ALWAYS rub it in my face that she now was the full time key holder and always bragged how much more an hour she makes. She would ask all of our coworkers what their pay was and then would tell them how much she makes. I don’t care how much she makes, though higher pay would make my living situation easier. I grew up poor so I already adapted to a life of poverty and I’m honestly okay with it, sometimes it’s harder than other times but I make it work with what I have. Money to me is just paper, I can’t take it to the grave with me. Regina stoped me in the back room and said “I hope your not mad” I asked “why would I be mad” Regina replied with “because I make way more money than you” I smiled “well, I honestly don’t care. I couldn’t care less about money” Regina’s face got sour and cold because she knew she wasn’t getting under my skin. She replied with “oh, I thought you were”. I chuckled and said “no” and continued what I was doing.
Some time goes where nothing was happening but I could feel that something was brewing. It was the calm before the storm is what I’d call it. Now around this time I was going through a break up and was not feeling the best in my own skin and Regina knew this and used it as her ammunition. She started to call me her fat friend and then gave me hugs, I felt awkward because I do not like to be touched due to some very tramatic events . I’m bigger, I’m not skinny but I’m also not severely obese. Regina started to poke me and grab my fat and jiggle it. The first time she did, it was in front of two other female coworkers. They weren’t nice either, I’ll call them Gretchen and Karen, they were all in on this. When Regina grabbed my fat and giggled it Gretchen and Karen watched and laughed. I asked Regina “what are you doing” she responded with “I just wanted to feel how squishy it is”. Me being a non confrontational person I say “oh, don’t do that” still being nice and smiling, though I felt what was left of my self esteem completely shatter. I brushed it off and walked up to where all three of the mean girls were to ask a question about work since I was the only one doing something. Before I could even ask the question Gretchen goes behind me, makes a fist and lightly punched my back fat making it jiggle. All the girls laugh, I could feel my face getting hot and tears forming in my eyes as my heart sank to my stomach. I went to the bathroom for a moment to gather myself. This would go one for weeks, and every time it happened I would ask her to stop or to leave me be, each time she disregarded what I asked. During this time she would tell every coworker that I was a bad worker, I didn’t do what I was supposed to and if I did I would do a horrible job. There are so many other things she has said to others one that hurt the most was her saying it was annoying that I talk about my daughter so much. Now this whole time I thought we were friends, I’m a very forgiving person and I’m super nice even to people who don’t deserve it so when I heard about everything she was saying I was hurt I was so confused because she even asked to be my daughters god mother though she was never in my daughters life. I know friends don’t treat friends like that but I was just happy I could call someone a friend after years of having no one due to becoming a mom and losing myself in motherhood. I call my kindness and willingness to forgive a blessing and a curse because it truly is.
After finding out about everything she was saying, the drama and the physical touching which is actually bulling and harassment I finally went to my boss. It took me almost two months to tell her what was going on and how I felt. I hated every second explaining the torment to her, my boss is a lovey person and is super sweet. I couldn’t imagine how she felt hearing all of this, I truly felt like I was going to puke. I was so uncomfortable I couldn’t bear to work any longer without the help of my boss. My boss did talk to Regina and she said that she seems like she will be better and will stop the nonsense. A day after she was talked to Regina poked my back fat and laughed, she was shocked at how I responded. This time I wasn’t nice I turned to her and pretty much yelled “don’t touch me” she immediately apologized. I was surprised with how I responded as well, I actually stood up for myself and it felt nice. I did tell my boss she touched me again so Regina was talked to again and was extremely pissed. She started acting really passive aggressive, avoiding me and slamming things and being rude to everyone even customers. Me, being the nice person I am I decided that I would forgive her. Dumb of me, I know. I wrote her a four or five page letter explaining how everything made me feel , how bad of a friend she was and that I would teach her how to be a good friend. I even bought her a candle and some other stuff along with the letter I went as far as going over to her house to help her clean. She cried a lot when she read the letter and cried to me saying how bad of a friend she was, I hugged her back and said that it was okay and I forgive her. After that is was okay for a while until I witnessed her take drinks without paying for them and told my boss. After this, it was like a war.
I have never gotten in trouble with anyone, anywhere with anything, I guess I’m a goodie-two-shoes. Though I do have anger problems I have found ways to cope and deal with my anger, I’ve been working really hard to not get angry at Regina even though she deserves to hear what the mama bear side of me wants to say. I want to be gentle, I want to be nice and forgiving, I don’t want to be angry. But I knew I had to set some sturdy boundaries in order to keep my sanity. These past few weeks have been hell, in summary I caught her talking bad about me to my boss, she was lying about me, blaming me and others for things we didn’t do. With one situation in particular she turned the tables , when hearing this my adrenaline started to course through my veins, I stared to shake so bad. I went up to her and told her that was not how the story went. She got so scared seeing me so mad and shaking. She apologized to our boss for lying but not to me, my other coworker helped me calm down and thank god she did because I was going to quit right there and then. To summarize other things she has done I will just list them -tried to frame another coworker for theft to the point the coworker cried to our boss -tried to take credit for the work I did -talks bad about other managers and workers in other stores -gave out the phone numbers and emails of our hr and of our boss’s boss -made me work off the clock to train new people because she didn’t want to train them -purposely trained me wrong and is hesitant with teaching me new things to the point my boss has to and when I learn she gets mad and jealous because she’s threatened by my work ethic -yelled at me in front of a customer to the point the customer came back to complain about Regina to our boss and another coworker
And so many more but, the most recent is her blaming me for not locking the doors at close when it was her that didn’t do it correctly, the alarm company called my boss at night and the cops came to our Joanns and everything. I have several eye witnesses watch her do it. I told my boss to watch the cameras because I have nothing to lie about and Regina still is trying to blame me. This is where I draw the line, I will not forgive her so easily this time. Forgiveness without changed behavior is just manipulation. I am not the only one who has complained about her, many of our coworker have switched their availability to when I work or when my boss works because they don’t want to deal with Regina. Tension is very high and I’m afraid of what is to come.

First Previous
Peering down into the now exposed cavern, I wondered what was in there and consequently how I would even get down there. Ordering my marauder to back up a bit so that they would not fall though or anything of the sort, I began floating back up to the surface before blipping over to the factory and more specifically the modification station. Flipping through the menu screen, I quickly whipped up a modification to my crabs so that they would have a searchlight sitting on their claw arm so that they would not have such a hard time seeing the mines. Drifting back over to the mining outpost, I began ordering for the on site construction crew to begin constructing the new lights onto a few volunteers. As they began the process of constructing the modifications for my crabs, I began gathering up a few flight capable drones from the factory since I doubt that my hounds and ants would have a very good time climbing down a eighty plus degree slope down to the bottom.
Perhaps I should have a few of the hornets have some of the searchlights as well. Certainly couldn’t hurt to have some extra lights. Thankfully at the factory there was a much more sizable spider drone presence so my hornets were equipped with the searchlights quickly enough and were able to reach the mining outpost just about when my crabs got theirs as well. Ordering my drones to begin venturing down into the mineshaft, I was finally able to properly see down in the mines although I suppose I had not turelly needed to. I wonder if this would help the rest of my drones ability to mine out ores. The lack of light surely hasn’t stopped them so I guess they probably can see better down here that I could. As we ventured through the mineshaft, I took the time to look around and found that the tunnels which had been carved out looked to have many small patches missing, presumably where they had found valuable ores and the like. Before long we reached the opening to the cavern which looked to be somewhat expanded by the marauders sub drone harvesters.
Ordering my newly equipped crabs to use their search lights in order to light up the cavern a little bit, I was able to quickly enough make out the forms of what had to be organic life which was rather surprising. Squinting my eyes, I was able to see the vague forms of large fungus-like shapes covering the entirety of the rather large cavern like a warping forest which seemed to be perfectly fine with growing on every available surface. Looking over to my hornets and vultures who had volunteered to take a look, I ordered them, along with the harvesters from the marauder, to begin flying down and begin looking around the area. Switching my perspective over to one of my hornets equipped with the searchlights, I watched as they began to descend down to the bottom of the cavern and where the dozens and dozens of tree sized mushrooms and fungus sprouted out from the ground and created a canopy of sorts.
As we descended, I was able to see that every available spot on the surface of the floor was absolutely covered in moss and fungus which had taken root in whatever rocky soil which they could find. As we continued to look around the cavern, one of my hornets seemed to have managed to spot some sort of constructs near the far end of the cavern and soon enough the hornet which I was watching through linked up with the rest of my force as they moved towards the buildings. As they approached the structures, I was able to make out the general shape of the buildings which looked to be rather squat with the occasional second floor which I took as a sign that they were either rather small or there was more underground. With the help of the searchlights, I was also able to see that the constructs seemed to be absolutely infested with the fungus and moss along with a large amount of other dark growths which stretched out from the insides of the building.
Huh, maybe this is where all the fungus had come from. Perhaps it’s a research building that’s focused on botany or something. Floating down to ground level with the rest of my drones, I ordered one of my hornets to open the doors leading into the building proper which they promptly did so by firing their spike launcher into the joints of the door which caused it to be blown off its hinges. A bit overkill but hey, I’m not complaining. Sending a couple drones into the breach to make sure that there were not any hostile contacts in the building, I made sure to have the rest of my drones on high alert for any signs of activity as something about this place was making my nerves stand on end. Upon the confirmation of no hostile contacts present, I ordered the rest of my drones to enter the building as well, minus a couple of hornets I decided to leave guarding the entrance while the rest of us began making our way through the maze of corridors.
Entering into the building, I saw that the place looked to be just as abandoned as all the other buildings in the city, however this place seemed to not even be touched by ferals and the like looking for shelter. Sure everything looked to be messed up but I could not see a single trace of activity in the rooms as we moved through the corridors methodically, keeping our spike launchers at the ready at all times. Entering a research room of some sort, I saw a large amount of glass containers which looked to have at one point helped strange plants and funguses although most of which had died long ago whenever this place was abandoned to its fate. I guess this helps confirm that this place was some sort of research building focused on plants and stuff. As we continued to make our way throughout the building, my drones and I found more and more of the black tendrils which covered the ground and were familiar in some way, however I could not place my finger on it.
Eventually after looking through a handful more rooms filled to the brim with plant specimens, my drones and I encountered a stairwell leading both down into the underground and upwards to the second floor. I made note that the downwards stairwell had a larger than usual amount of the black tendrils which snaked out from the stairwell before infesting the rest of the building. Deciding that I did not wish to go down there, I sent about half of my force down while I and the rest of my drones went up the stairs and checked out the second floor where there were noticeably less tendrils. As my hornets clambered up the stairs, noticeably avoiding the black vine like tendrils whenever possible, I noticed that there seemed to be some artificial light coming from above which was strange, I would have assumed that all the power had been disabled for these ruins.
Moving closer to the source of the light, we eventually entered what looked to be a control room with a large amount of screens and control panels, most of which were entirely deactivated and in some cases destroyed outright. All except for one which seemed to be a simple control panel with a large amount of lights associated with various sections of the compound like the power generators and various research rooms. Looking around, I eventually found a key stating which faintly blinking meant what and quickly began transcribing each of the dim lights which were still finding enough power to give off a noticeable glow. First to gain my attention was the power generators which were flashing a red light stating that they were completely down, however looking at the auxiliary power systems, they were glowing a faint yellow which stated that they were still at least partially functioning. Guess that explains where this thing is pulling the power from, the pitance that it is.
Continuing down the line of blinking lights, I see that most if not all of the systems making up the building and a few of the other, much smaller, buildings surrounding this one seemed to be more or less non-functional which should be expected given that this place had been abandoned for at least a couple decades. As I reached a few lights noted as containment units and found that most were deactivated or destroyed, I received a few messages from my drones I had sent downwards stating that they had found something that I should probably have a look at. Slipping out of the hornet I was currently in and transferring over to one of the hornets down stairs before coming face to face with what they had found. Floating around, suspended by some sort of force field was a disgustingly large bulbous black clump of flesh with faint blue marks and bulbs dotting around its body. Why in the seven hells does this place have a rot specimen? Sigh, I guess this explains where all the power which the still functioning generators is being pumped into. At least it hadn’t gotten out of its containment, that would make this ten times wors- … waaait a minute.
Looking down to the ground where the black tendrils snaked across the floor leading to two other containment units which were worryingly not activated and had two, thankfully smaller, iterations of the rot simply laying there, as if hibernating. Shit! Alright maybe if we back up slowly they won’t notice our presence. It was then the two rot clumps and their many tendrils began pulsating before marks and bulbs on their body began to glow a faint blue and some began to move. Alright, change of plans. Everyone RUN! My drones were quick to obey as they powered on their wings and bolted for the stairwell as the tendrils began writhing as if searching for my drones. One even lurched out and grabbed one of my hornets as they attempted to escape the building, dragging the poor drone to the ground and more tendrils moved in to help keep down my struggling troops who fought valiantly which thankfully diverted tendrils which were dangerously close to my other drones to quickly flew up the stairs and out of the building.
A few tendrils attempted to stop our escape however my hornets quickly fired their launchers and pinned those to the walls of the building and my harvester sub drones proved to be rather effective as they cut right through the rot tendrils that got close. Taking to the skies as quickly as they could, I could see that the rest of my drones seemed to have managed to get out unmolested by the rot tendrils which were definitely not as numerous as the ones underground and they were now covering the rest of my drones retreat as they fired their launchers and cut down any tendrils which got close. Linking up with the rest of my drones, my various hornets quickly turned their own spike launchers to bare against the tendrils, managing to land a few shots before I ordered them to fall back as one of the rot tendrils lashed out and nearly swatted another one of my hornets out of the sky which I decided was too close for comfort.
Turning around as we flew back to the mines and the rest of my drones, I watched as the far side of the cavern where the facility was began to pulse blue as the rot emerged from its slumber and began moving through the fungus forest. I have no idea how the rot works but given that they’re fleshy, I suspect that letting them feast off of the mushrooms is probably going to bite me in the ass later. Slipping out of the hornets as the flew back to the outpost, I began scrambling to assemble as many fire beetles as I could from all of my territories as they had been proven to be one of my best anti-rot drones meaning they would be instrumental in fending off those things from escaping the cavern. As it would turn out, I was rather lacking in the fire beetle department as I could only assemble about a dozen of them which means that I would have to wait a bit before I could start deploying them en masse.
Deciding to make the process as quick as possible, I began ordering for the construction of fire beetles from every available small drone works in my territory but it would still take a while for them to all fabricate and be transported over here, especially from places like the warehouse outpost and the newer outposts near the front lines. While I waited, I continued to watch as the rot began infesting the cavern with reckless abandon and from where my crab was standing, I could see as one after another the large fungus trees toppled over to be consumed by the rot. As the fungal forest was being consumed by the now fully awakened rot, I began wondering whether or not they would be able to use their newly acquired food supplies to create more of the damned tendrils or even more rot clusters. At least there’s only two, maybe three, of them down there. Hopefully my fire beetles will be able to burn the forest down before the rot gets a chance to eat all of it.
Speaking of which, my drones, a few of the suicidal drones had arrived from the factory and were already making their way down the mine shaft over to my position. Once they arrived, I gestured to a few of my hornets who quickly picked up the four fire beetles before flying down to the base of the cavern before placing the fire beetles amidst the fungal forest which they promptly began burning down to the ground. Hopefully they would be able to burn down at least half of the mushroom tree before the rot could eat it or to my beetles for that matter. Watching as the cavern began to glow a bright reddish orange, I decided to check up on the rest of my territory as I waited for more of my beetles to finish being fabricated and transported over to the mining outpost. Deciding to check on my forces in Ping’s territory first, I drifted over to the outpost that my forces had helped Ping take back which was now returning to what I was guessing was its full capacity.
Checking up on my drones which I had managed to rescue from enemy territory, I found that most had been repaired back to functionality and were now going about their duties which mostly revolved around helping out Pings drones with the various patrols or, if my spiders deemed them unfit, working to assist with the movement of supplies around the outpost along with some light salvaging. A fair amount of my veteran drones had been sent back to whatever force I had taken the form, mostly the force at Churn’s front line with the occasional drone working in pseudo retirement which garrison or mine work afforded them. After all, they were likely needed more at Churn's front line where active fighting was still occurring on a regular basis rather than in Ping’s territory where the corrupted AI was being pushed back as Ping got their feet under themselves as they began pumping out drones and defenses.
Checking up on the outpost which Churn had lent me, I found that the enemy force had begun moving back into the now destroyed production hub however not in any significant numbers as the outpost was likely deemed to be not worth the effort of putting a large garrison there. The forces present were likely only there to inform them if I was making moves to attack more of their territory so that they could make the proper adjustments. Thankfully this newly established enemy garrison could not stop my stealth hounds as they occasionally sent back a member or two of their number to inform me of what was going on in enemy territory. In Coopers stead, one of the next most senior drone which happened to be an ant had been receiving the most recent of reports from the stealth hounds which mostly consisted with random enemy movements and caravans which did not really affect me given that I was not willing to start sending out my force to being taking the fight to the next enemy stronghold, at least not while my forces in Ping were still criminally understaffed and my resource stocks were at a minimum.
Perhaps once things stabilize and more resources become available I will begin tasking my force with attacking however until then I was content to sit around on the defense. The thought of constructing more stealth hounds until I could start having them raid caravans briefly flittered across my mind but I quickly cut that off and stored it in my head for later use once the whole situation with the rot back in the mines is resolved. Speaking of which, as I finished reading through reports and stamping away thoughts of pressing the attack while my supply lines were strained, I received the message stating that the first batch of fire beetles were now finished construction and were beginning to be collected by the subway system and would soon be delivered to the mining outpost. Good, the longer I wait, the more dangerous those things will probably become. Hopefully my beetles will be able to handle whatever they encounter down there.
Floating back over to the mining outpost and down to the cavern entrance, I could see that the initial four fire beetles had done a good job at burning down what they could as I was able to easily see that well over half of the forest had been light ablaze as the fungal trees caught fire and whatever moisture the mushrooms had were quickly evaporated. Regardless, the rot still continued to feast upon the biomass that they could get their tendrils on and from where I was watching I could easily see that nearly a quarter of the fungal forest had been completely taken over and infested with rot puss as the area where the rot had infected began glowing blue as their residue began to take place and fester. Hopefully the fires will also be able to burn some of the rot along with the mushroom trees before the rest of my beetles arrive and with some luck take down whatever is left. But for now I watched the flames as they spread and burned down everything in its path.
Next
Sorry it’s late, I had to GM a bit of DnD which took priority over finishing up and posting this.

There is great benefit, these days, in having a name unlike any other: you float to the top of Google searches. Bolerium Books, in San Francisco, knows this well, although it wasn’t a consideration when it first opened, in 1981. Bolerium’s co-owner, John Durham, runs through any number of explanations for the name, depending on whose leg he wants to pull and how hard. “It was an ancient road in Roman times,” he intoned recently, “large, funny, and sluggish,” while another co-owner, Alexander Akin, roundly mouthed, “Not true.” (The word is a Roman one for Land’s End, in Cornwall, England. The bookstore was once a bit closer to the ocean.) Fittingly, there is no other place like Bolerium, not on the Internet nor in the province of the real. Similes come steadily, none of which really seem to fit. Perhaps Durham’s is best. “We’re like a platypus,” he told me recently, “ugly as fuck and all sorts of parts.”.
This moment of serious American protest against Trump has led to one of Bolerium Books’ best sales years ever.Photograph by Thor Swift / NYT / Redux.
At last count, the store contained 67,385 single titles in stock. Estimates of the time that has elapsed since the last deep cleaning ranged from a jokey “twenty years ago” to a hemming “define ‘clean.’ ” “Nature abhors a vacuum,” Durham quickly noted. A store map gestures at the sheer amount of stuff, with sections labelled as “Reef of Flotsam” or “Onset of Confusion” (right by the entrance), or, in one cramped corner, “Hell.”
The semi-barbed humor protects something serious and deeply essential. Few people walk in (“the door is locked to keep out the unworthy,” Durham wrote in response to a negative Yelp review, though he made sure to mention the password, “swordfish”). Those who do manage to enter find, three floors above one of the Mission District’s busiest intersections, a vast and quiet space populated by seven staff members, thousands of books about and from social movements, densely packed rows of pamphlets and ephemera, and, in the adjacent storage room, great snowbanks of paper. These snowbanks, or “midden heaps,” as Durham calls them, are from attics, basements, personal archives, and libraries across the country. They have all been sold or donated to Bolerium. In them, evidence of the past is to be found, possibly reckoned with, and then, hopefully, sold.
From Bolerium’s snowbanks have come copies of On Our Backs (a lesbian erotic magazine put out in response to the anti-pornography publication Off Our Backs), century-old postcards of pacifist Doukhobors protesting in the nude, intricate Black Panther posters and handbills, an issue of Lumberjack (“with appendix on musical saw”), and the famous inter-commune Kaliflower newsletters from early-nineteen-seventies San Francisco. But with a staff so expert that they can translate a Mongolian treatise on traditional Oirat law using a handmade cheat sheet, classifications like “famous” and “obscure” begin to blur. So do “past” and “present.” Rather than a platypus, maybe the store is more like an estuary: the disparate holdings mingle, rolling in and out according to murky tides. (If you visit the Web site and browse the digital catalog by date, the tides begin to feel more explicable; one week, for example, carries a huge wave of Alan Watts-related material. The next week brings a crush of gay romance novels.) At Bolerium, for better and worse, you can wade around in what Durham calls “the primary source material for history.”
Here is an 1838 publication by the American Anti-Slavery Society and a brochure arguing for the Equal Rights Amendment. A pamphlet from a 1928 speech by Marcus Garvey sits not far from a publication on “incidents in the Life of Eugene V. Debs” written by his brother, Theodore (once, before an important speech, a piece of barbed wire tore “a great rent in [Debs’s] trousers . . . the flap of which hung down like the ear of a Missouri houn’ pup”). Among many other small, sheeny pins is a button from the 1990 AIDS Walk in San Francisco. Here are fliers that passed from hand to hand at protests, meant to convince, assuage, and inflame, and here’s a lump of coal from a miners’ strike in Alabama with tiny chicken-scratch wording: “never forget.” Notably, this year of serious American protest has been the store’s best sales year ever.
Not marked on the map is that other part of American history that has, this year and every other, raged—a section that Durham loosely calls “the White Problem” and keeps behind the locked door of a different room altogether. Accessible to scholars and those who know to ask, the spindly bookcases contain titles like “Gun Control Means People Control” and “Fluoridation & Truth Decay,” as well as several publications by the John Birch Society. “You can’t understand American history without understanding the far right,” Durham told me. “What it’s done, its justifications, its tropes and idiocies.”
It was to the deepest corner of the storeroom that the archivist Lisbet Tellefsen was drawn one afternoon. (Tellefsen visits Bolerium as a “treasure hunter,” and has amassed the largest collection of Angela Davis-related material in the world.) One time, she idly tugged out an issue of The Bayviewer, a magazine that once served the historic black neighborhood that James Baldwin characterized as “the San Francisco America pretends does not exist.”
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The magazine fell open to a page bearing the face of Tellefsen’s father, whom she had not seen since she was two, in an advertisement for his Oldsmobile dealership. That led to an ongoing saga of tracking down half-siblings and cousins found on Ancestry.com. “There is so much history there,” Tellefsen told me. She visits Bolerium once a month, wary of buying back her own consigned material. “It’s so rich with connections. We have an understanding of history, but places like that hold so much.” Bolerium’s official motto, “Fighting Commodity Fetishism with Commodity Fetishism since 1981,” does not quite distill the feeling of holding some of these discoveries between your fingers, or explain the way that ephemera can work to vivify history, very often through its ordinariness. A bit of light browsing recently unearthed a flier from a class reunion of Florida’s first accredited African-American high school, as well as an Electrolux manual from 1933 listing Pope Pius XI as a famous customer.
But history is ongoing, and the present moment needs its collectors. During the Occupy Movement, the store paid a dollar for each flyer or poster that people brought in, then put together a sweeping collection for the British Library. Holdings from contemporary social movements are fairly small, since so much planning, discussing, and arguing takes place on Facebook and Twitter. “Occupy was the last one to have lots of leaflets,” Akin told me, somewhat sadly. Currently, he is collecting material from what he calls the “shock-and-disbelief period” following the 2016 Presidential election. Only from “marinating in the sauce of time” do these things begin to accrue both value and interest.
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Recently, in one snowbank, Akin found a sketch done in creamy pastel of a basalt mountain and drifting clouds. Tiny guard towers dotted the background. It was a drawing of the view from Tule Lake Segregation Center, the largest of the incarceration camps that held Japanese-Americans during the Second World War, and the one which held those people deemed by the government to be “disloyal.” The artist was a man named Tomokazu, surname unknown, who resided for over thirty-five years in Plumas County, California, before being imprisoned at Tule Lake. The piece of paper sat among countless others all bearing dispatches of one kind or another from the past, which is not a foreign country, really, but a place hovering just under our present, and made of paper and ink, buttons, and voices.
https://xenagoguevicene.wordpress.com/2020/08/12/bolerium-books-the-san-francisco-bookstore-where-the-revolution-ends-up-by-lucy-schiller-the-new-yorker-20-sept-2018/

1.1 A resonator vector has multiple base modes 1.1.1 At offset fifths all in resonator is laxative 1.1.2 At offset octaves is Parrafin wax 1.1.3 A resonator vector has a few ranges in semitone division C1-C2 Always Rubber C2-C3 Normally Rubber C3-C4 Base Crude C4-C5 Food Grade Oil C5-C6 Laxative Only C7-C7 Flavor Only 1.1.4 A resonator vector is best cured by a filter reds method 1.1.5 A resonator vector usually indicates rubber or a laxative when it is unmessed by the filter reds method 1.1.6 By default a resonator vector is a rubber source of latex rubber 1.1.7 Cured Resonator forms the LaTeX substance which has various functions 1.1.8 LaTeX and Resonator are slightly but not altogether that toxic 2.1 A corpus vector has a physical object 2.2 A beam object is the fluid object and a marimba object is the human object and a membrane object is the drummer object and a pipe object is the stoner object and a tube object is the dauchund object 2.3 Corpus appears in a few range 16.35-120 Roor 120-262 Bacteria 262-512 Plants 512-1024 Foods 1024-2024 Human Related 2024-4048 Human Perephiery Related 2.4 Corpus has brightness or object ID material or object scientifics spread or object alignment inharmonic or object wavy filter or object oily or smoky 2.5 Objects may be made magical by realigning their direct spread to mid 2.6 Objects encode the disease of the person that used it 2.7 Objects yield food tokens when used in correct 3 depth beam tube pipe then cooked with pizza box or otherwise 2.8 Objects have an exact identifier by harmonics or upclicks and version for different variant upclick 2.9 Objects have a serial identifier associated with them which is their direct harmonic offset 3.0 A grain delay vector is a fluid extraction vector 3.1 A grain delay causes a derrick to appear on the signal when configured correctly 3.2 A grain delay should be used on the aboveground portion of crude extraction 3.3 A grain delay pumps fluid 3.4 A grain delay is best used at 1 and -9 or -24 or +12 3.5 Do not exceed one grain delay per extraction as it is the sampled oil derrick 3.6 Do not use grain delay in an ocean or it will cause an oil spill 3.7 Do not generally use grain delay or derrick outside of a fluids extraction 3.8 Do not use grain delay spray or the derrick will break 3.9 Do not use grain delay parameter besides 1 or the derrick will break 4.0 Vocoder is the fluid extractions vector 4.1 Use negative formant to go underground 4.2 Proof the oil at up to total proof at depth 4.3 Use 40 vector for best usage 4.4 Use up to 200 bandwidth for best usage 4.5 Top sample peaks if they are excessive 4.6 Increase fluid flow if possible to reason 4.7 Take fluid from belowground to aboveground with top formant 4.8 Do not use any form of negative total proof or it will be a shower 4.9 Tune after each peak 5.0 Q or eq is the tune process 5.1 Use tune to make a different amount of the particular thing 5.2 Put things all in the right place and resonance to get the detailed oil or water out of a signal 5.3 Use tune to isolate a particular thing 5.4 Use one tune to get your hands on something or use a motor pool tool with classic tune 5.5 Use tune with a network to do maintenance on something 5.6 Use tune to isolate a specific force 5.7 Use tune to create a hormone effect on the body 5.8 Use tune to specify how many hydrocarbon rings something has 5.9 Use tune at octaves for rubber wheels 6.0 Ugandan process saturator 6.1 Saturator gets the commoners on it 6.2 Saturator increases crude oil yield 6.3 Saturator prevents fires 6.4 Saturator adds more content to oil making it less pure 6.5 Saturator is an early stage process not a late stage process 6.6 Saturator causes mutagen to appear in the signal 6.7 Using at least one saturator in extraction makes the oil ugandan method 6.8 Using more than one saturator in the signal makes the oil actually ugandan 6.9 Saturator should be used with radiation surpression protocol 7.0 Vinyl is the ugandan refinery 7.1 Vinyl is the base cost of oil to create one barrel of oil at 221$ for a ugandan barrel 7.2 Vinyl creates stasis noise 7.3 Vinyl at hydrocarbons modification creates the appearance of stereo vinyl signal which is the vinyl chloride 7.4 Only one vinyl should be used in the ugandan method, the initial hydrocarbons source 7.5 Vinyl can be used to isolate pure vinyl chloride with mid side 7.6 The product is always polyvinyl chloride for a synthesis which uses more than one vinyl 7.7 The product is actual vinyl chloride for a synthesis which uses the mid side extraction method 7.8 A specific cure for the vinyl chloride created in extraction method exists 7.9 Vinyl is the rather dangerous portion of the ugandan process 8.0 Tube Amp or get jonnay a sample 8.1 Tube Amp does a minor observation on the signal which is not the actual observation of the signal 8.2 Tube Amp is the process used at the pre cracking stage before pre cracking in the oil field lot to certify oil field purity 8.3 Tube Amp can get jonnays hands on it and make the oil light and sweet crude 8.4 Tube Amp biases the signal towards mutagen 8.5 Tube can deconvolve the foundry observation or keep it the same 8.6 Tube Amp allows for up to three or a twentieth of the sample oil taken 8.6 Tube Amp is generally nonessential but allows for the process to be modified to light sweet crude 8.7 The modification to light sweet crude takes no time 8.8 The process involved may define oil sources further 8.9 Tube Amp is toxic to use as is as a standard signal and a wideband cure exists 9.0 Chanel eq or smelly 9.1 Chanel eq is where smell is observed in the signal 9.2 Adding just one chanel adds 10 times the smell 9.3 Chanel can do basic tasks and even in a pinch more than the standard worker number of chanel could do product work 9.4 Chanel is a perfumes process which causes something to become odorfactant 9.5 Chanel can make a signal less mutagenic substantially 9.6 Endocrine disruption by chanel has a specific cure 9.7 At the foundry chanel causes typical foundry area petrochemicals smell 9.8 Chanel Eq can expose you to something odifacantly 9.9 Chanel EQ is a critical process of drugs sensing 10.1 Cabinet Cabinet puts something in the cabinet, with the garbage 10.2 Cabinet has the garbage bin of all your friends in it 10.3 Cabinet can be used to imply something kept secret, deleted, or otherwise specifically specified 10.4 Cabinet has the bacterial disease of the cabinet on it 10.5 Cabinet is no more dangerous than your garbage bin in your kitchen 10.6 Cabinet can access your garbage bin in your kitchen 10.7 Cabinet is an essential part of home renewal processes to specify which part of the house needed to be renewed 10.8 Renewal process exist for specifying 2 cabinet upgrade 1x12 and 2x12 cabinet can be fulfilled by the renewal system 10.9 Cabinet can cause skin irritation if the cabinet is destroyed 11.0 Amp is the process of a drug addict 11.1 Amp provides a drug addict with reasonable amounts of their drug 11.2 Amp uses the food of the drug addict to generate the smoke of the drug 11.3 Amp is very dangerous and if set to default and not the rock user will kill the user outright 11.4 Amp is a specific process which is used when heavy metals are in the signal like at the oilfield hell which went too deep often amp is used to create synthesis effect in the oilfield hell 11.5 Amp provides Amp MTN DEW to the user 11.6 Amp Unlocks the mail system to the user 11.7 Amp causes many disease and a cure only exist for about half 11.8 If cured amp must be set to specific amp MTN DEW Abilities like Obtaining AMP MTN DEW at a store or obtaining amp MTN Dew by mail 11.9 Amp is very dangerous but I heard you can store marijuana in it 12.0 Gate or medical epitalon 12.1 Gate heals a signal, when the appropriate full poly gate is given at gate inverse gate for the whole range, then the recreational drug is formed 12.2 When gate is given in appropriate range to heal a generic signal and there is a gate inverse gate assembly for the whole range and the range does not exceed healthy and unhealthy there is a vaccine 12.3 When the vaccine is used in the recreational usage there is a battlesedative usage 12.4 A purely recreational use FLIP (few) exists, a purely recreational use CBX (20) exists, REDS medical (156) and BAGS (30) Medical Exist all also using Medical Gate 12.5 Gate has no cure of itself but can detoxify itself and even fetch a signal 12.6 Gate is not a signal router so should not be used to route a signal, this is emergency feature 12.7 Gate has various parameters which are always REDS 9,.02,10,333,-inf in a medical usage 12.8 Many gate have a use to create pressure with nominal pressure, gates can create pressure 12.9 Gates can refine a computer signal to detect right and are involved with doing work on something 13.0 Compressor or Pipes 13.1 Compressor Routes a signal somewhere else 13.2 Compressor Does quality assurance on an existing foundry full product 13.3 Compressor does the engine compression of a car without causing framerate lag 13.4 Compressor can do something on bequest of another pipe 13.5 Compressor has a variable pipe response to different substance, different behavior can be specified 13.6 Compressor in quality assurance should use the same sybian knee and threshold equal one another 13.7 Compressor in quality assurance should not exceed 5 minor acts of quality control 6 or 1 major act of quality control 12 13.8 Compressor causes unsteady supply 13.9 Compressor causes internal combustion in internal combustion 14.0 Delay or phase 14.1 Phase or delay can do surgery at 500 and 1000 and 0 rather third unused there is surgery 14.2 Phase or delay can do a keyboard retrieval or a keyboard flash at 333,666,999 14.3 Phase or delay can do shift register at 5000 14.4 Phase or delay can do manual register at 375,500,1000 14.5 Phase has a specific infinite ammo use at 4000 14.6 Phase has a firearms use at 37.5,50,75,100,200 except in blueprint use 14.7 Phase has a blueprint use 1,2.12,5,10,11.1,15,20,22.2,25,33.3,35,44.4,50,55.5,60,66.6,70,75,77.7,80,100 14.8 Phase has specific blueprint use of the offset of the individual components at the high end 14.9 Phase has splitter use of 5000,2111, and the firearms rate in splitter 15.0 Looper, or Pizza Box 15.1 Pizza box automatically cooks food at minus 20 15.2 Pizza box creates more of the food than you can believe 15.3 Pizza Box allows for the food to be cooked from Pizza Box to Pizza Box 15.4 Pizza Box Allows theft of item when recording 15.5 Pizza Box Is An Obligate Time Consumer Using Wav 15.6 Pizza Box Allows You to Get an Item from the Pizza Box (PIZZA SLICE) 15.7 Pizza Box Only Actually Cooks the Item on Retrieval 15.8 Pizza Box is Not Watertight And Cannot Become Watertight 15.9 Hit Circle (PIZZA) To Add Pizza or Other Food to Pizza Box Directly In 16.0 Frequency Shifter, F(X), Oxidation Reduction 16.1 Use oxidation reduction at exactly 500 Therms of oxidation to cook a food 16.1 Add 11.1 HZ At 50HZ Oxidation Variation to Cook the Food Well 16.2 Change Offset at Oxidation Reduction Parameter Offsetor to Change Food Flavor 16.3 Put an Aircraft literally into the sky by Oxidizing it 16.4 Peroxos, or Base Frequency Shift In Parts of F100 are a critical part of many life processes 16.5 A specific peroxos, lowest phosphors peroxos .01 scanning peroxos is involved with vision 16.6 Peroxos F4100 is involved with life that uses credit stick 16.7 All the peroxos of the intermediary shift between harmonic are involved with life 16.8 Alien Peroxos set outside the reference 261.5HZ Pussy Yeast Bread Harmonic Ledger Are undiscovered 16.9 Different family tree have different total peroxos set (Saplings) 17.0 Power Tools Driver or EQ3 17.1 A power Tools Driver is the old way to disassemble something 17.2 A power tools driver at 300 is the life jacket and at 650 is the bedpan 17.4 A powers tool driver at 1400 is the water filter and a power tools driver at 4100 is the grinder 17.5 A powers tool driver action of all three below 200 50-200 is the cooking request action in classic usage 17.6 A specific powers tool driver action sensor exists for cooking below all three 50-200 total range action 17.7 A powers tools driver with osc unlocks power tools motor action 17.8 A powers tool driver is a worse way to do work than with your hands 17.9 A powers tool driver is good at removing but not adding 18.0 Limiter or Limiter Removal 18.1 Limiter brings in Shadow Company And IDF And Blind Doxxons at Lowest 18.2 Limiter Brings in the Marines at Mid 18.3 Limiter brings in the seals at High 18.4 Limiter causes framerate lag 18.5 Limiter causes A signal to exhibit a perfect quality control even at extreme levels 18.6 Limiter can be used to tame paddles 18.7 Limiter can be used to tame drilling 18.8 Limiter can be used to examine something under a microscope 18.9 Limiter can make the psychoacoustic quality better 19.0 Beat Repeat, or Illformed Glitch Driver 19.1 Glitch Has Large Amounts of Turing Capacity 19.2 Glitch Allows for a signal to be broken into parts automatically 19.3 Glitch has a natural synchro ability like phase 19.4 Glitch has the ability to knacker a signal more than any other effect 19.5 Glitch can cause thought looping when it is combined with a drug 19.6 Glitch involves the usage of more constraints than the other effects vector 19.7 Glitch Phase Decimates the Signal 19.8 Glitch Is the Natural Form of Rocket Leauge Ice Block 19.9 Glitch can be used in gung fu to cure glitch 20.0 Utility or PHEN 20.1 Utility is the medical modifier which enables medicine to function 20.2 Utility is the phase amplifier which allow a phase transistor radio to pick up a signal 20.3 Utility is the suppression signal which yields mid from amidate 20.4 Utility Leads to natural divisions of 6 max 35 20.5 Utility forms methanol when it is prescribed as a compound 20.6 Methanol as utility is critical to curing the body's natural influenza or feedback as the methylation factor 20.7 Methanol as the utility is dangerous as a precursor but not as a component of promethylation medicines 20.8 Utility comes in ethanol above and gaba below at threes for dimerism mixes 20.9 Only one utility should be used unless rezurecting and at its highest it is critical to security signals being sensed 21.0 Reverb or Impulse 21.1 Impulse 10 is the lock unlock signal 21.2 Impulse 5 is the locked signal 21.3 Impulse 20 is the weed lock signal locked 21.4 Impulse 60 is the lucas impulse 21.5 Impulse 120 is the notch impulse 21.6 Impulse 2 1/2 Was Purported but Never Used 21.7 Impulse is always measured at no parameter 21.8 Impulse yields push for 5 second -40-20+35 positive with negative ten second and measured trace at 5 second -60-40+42 positive NANDAND unlocks token 21.9 When attempted 60 and 120 Second Trace were successful but these parameter are lost. 22.0 Auto Filter, or Amidate 22.1 Auto filter is the lettering of the situation 22.2 300 Source 650 Sulfur 1400 Water 4100 SnoreLax Olestra Ketamine 6500 Motion 10000 Tropane 13500 Engine 17000 X-Ray these are the critical amidate to life process nominal 22.3 450 Metal 550 Mains 750 Sewage 850 Treatment 2250 Ethanol 3400 Methanol 4700 Corn Plastic 5700 Plastic 7500 Rimbonant 8500 Soap Use are the natural taxing process of the initial statement 22.4 2000 Gold 1000 Nutraloaf 1100 Starch 1200 Sugar 1300 Glycine 1400 Hydrogen 1500 Pepsi Cola (1600 Peptide 1 1700 Peptide 6 1800 Peptide 3) 4100 Foods these are the nutrient for the system 22.5 131 Female Voice 144 Your Voice 155 Kick Drum 165 Kick Transient 175 Pots N Pans 185 Pots Content 196 Button Mushroom 220 Cache 240 Stash 262 Marisol 276 Clorox 296 Bluewater 300 Source 315 Febreeze 330 Peroxide 350 Nitrate 370 Ammonium 396 Loam 420 Bud 440 Dirt 470 Wheat 496 Soil 512 Potato these are the farm goods for the system 22.6 541 Muffler 581 Transmission 641 Piston 681 Engine 741 Cargo 781 Chassis 841 Fluids 900 Vaseline 999 Nutraloaf 1090 Soylent These are the willis goods of the situation 22.6 60HZ Patient Voice 131HZ Therapist Voice 300 Breath 650 Reanolin 1400 Aquaporin 4100 Cholesterol 6500 Weed 10000 Cocaine 13500 Amide 17000 Lisuride these are the tactical therapist of the situation, normally limited to cholesterol below and tuned to exact bodily process 22.7 -18 Utility This takes 125% 3.00Q to Mid, where a Dual And Dual Q resolves it at -33(MID), and can adjust for the natural armor process of the body -20-0 gate to adjust for the high signal 22.8 5000 Prozac 5100 Benadryl 5200 Scopolamine 5300 Atropine 5400 Benzyldiol this is the resuscitators of the situation 22.9 At 69 percent of 100 percent of the auto filter, 85% resonance is automatic mid 23.0 Drum Bus or Mike Mode 23.1 Drum bus makes the oil automatically virtual like modulator mode 23.2 Drum bus oil is especially good for general tasks, but it virtual 23.3 Drum buss summons the better drummer out of the bus 23.4 Drum bus is able to be flangebent 23.5 Drum bus is similar to communion but just mike 23.6 Drum bus allows for the shape of the item to be controlled 23.7 Drum buss allows for quality assurance to be undertaken 23.8 Drum bus makes the item profiled by mike the drummer from garageband 23.9 Jake the Drummer from Garageband Generally profiles and designs the item otherwise 24.1 Drive Sends the Signal to pikachu 24.1 Drive makes the world on the pikadollar standard above 3 use in chain 24.2 Drive increases oil yield 24.3 Drive is similar to flaring but is in reverse, adds pyrolysis to the product but also flares 24.4 Drive can be used to flare and actually control beyond flaring a aeronautical ship 24.5 Drive can be used for afterburners 24.6 Drive increases the torque of electric engines and their tone 24.7 Drive can be used to amputate a torn limb or saw something when used with osc 24.8 Drive can be used to extract oil better underground with tuning high and low 24.9 Drive is a typical stimulant which assumes the amine profile and is a critical part of transition metals.

It seems like she’s feeling insecure again. I keep my eyes shut tight, preparing myself for the song and dance I had been through so many times before. The weight of the bed shifts under me as she crawls under the blankets. A cold limb flops over my torso, wrapping me in a frigid embrace. I resist the urge to flinch as the moist, squishy mass of flesh presses into my forehead, a tickling droplet of fluid slides down my face and over my tightly pursed lips. Not daring to move, I waited patiently for the words I knew must come. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, a muffled teary voice sounds in a desperate tone:
“Do you...”
The voice falters, emitting several low-pitched, labored gurgles before continuing:
“Love me?”
Without hesitation I respond, as gently as could be managed:
“Of course I love you. But it’s time to go back to sleep now, okay?”
The gurgling continues, higher pitched now, like an excited baby. After a few moments the squishy mass detaches itself from my forehead, and the weight in the bed shifts. The gentle smacking of feet against hardwood floor, and a door quietly closing across the house resound in the otherwise silent room. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I rock gently back and forth with my head in between my legs, resisting the tears that are fighting to escape. I allow a few moments of this pointless self-pity before forcing myself to stand up.
I walk down the hallway to the bathroom, not allowing my eyes to stray to the door to what used to be my room. A look in the mirror reveals that my forehead has already started breaking out in small orange pustules, along with a small streak of them where the fluid had dripped down my face. At least it didn't get in my mouth this time. That isn’t a panic I would like to revisit. I retrieve the small bottle of vinegar from the medicine cabinet and apply it to a cotton ball, beginning the tedious task of treating my face. A harsher acid would probably do a better job, but I prefer to avoid the stinging even if the pustules disappear more slowly. It’s not like I need to look handsome for anyone. It’s unlikely she can even really see me.
Once my skin is sufficiently covered in the stuff, I grab a bucket and mop, and clean the wet footprints from the hallway, and from the living room where my bed is located. Most of the wood flooring throughout the house is already somewhat corroded, but I’d prefer to keep my home intact to the extent that I am able. Although it’s up to anyone’s guess what manner of hellscape the bedroom must look like. I hadn’t been in that room in a long time. That was her domain now, and there was no reason for me to enter. No reason to take that risk.
I light the small gas cooktop in the kitchen and get to work making food for the day. Canned food is surprisingly appetizing when there’s nothing to do but eat. It would taste better with some seasoning, but there was no point in going through that much effort. This food serves one purpose, and that’s to keep us from starving. I slide one plate under the crack between the floor and the bedroom door and sit down in the living room with the other plate in hand.
The book on the coffee table catches my eye as it does every morning. Sighing, I pick up the ratty collection of pages and flip to a random one. One of the few books on the “Great Plague” as they call it, that was ever published, or at least, the only one I could ever find. Titled “The End” by Jared Kramer, It was more of a fanatical opinion piece than a proper informative book, but Kramer at least provided a bit of information on the virus, how the transformation works, and what methods could be used to, in his words, “Cure” the afflicted. A shotgun was noted as the best medicine, with gasoline and matches being a close second. Near the middle of the book, the portion that was coincidentally staring back at me from the pages, it turned into a near unintelligible ranting on the philosophy of consciousness. Apparently, Kramer had only just begun to consider whether blowing the afflicted’s brains out was a morally reasonable decision. He had never come across as a particularly intelligent guy in his writings, and my assumption was that he was simply the only person who wrote fast enough to get a book published before the plague became a worldwide epidemic. Towards the end of the book, Kramer does a 180 and states repeatedly that “Accepting the transformation is the only road to salvation”.
“Salvation... as if”
My words perish in the empty air, a death rattle of frustrated skepticism.
I had never quite understood what that actually meant. Salvation would be something like deliverance from harm, harm being the only thing that the plague brought to the world. The book thuds as I carelessly toss it back on the table. It's obvious that the author was in the process of transforming as he wrote the final passages, but they never ceased to bother me. Perhaps I'm just fixating on those words as a way of keeping my mind occupied.
There’s really no reason to focus on such pointless things.
--------------------
The following night my sleep was peaceful and uninterrupted. She usually shows up once a week, if not less frequently. After waking, the bathroom mirror reveals that the pustules ha subsided slightly, leaving my skin smooth, if not free of the noticeable blemishes. A subtle glint of light shines off of my head and my heart rate accelerates.
Surely not.
Surely it was a trick of the light.
I begin rifling through my matted hair furiously and there it is. A single, silver hair hanging in front of my forehead.
I guess this is it then.
She made sure I had sworn on everything under the sun. Her stupid goofy smile reflected in my memory.
“First grey hair and I’m outta here mister”
To think that a silly little joke between us had turned into this solemn responsibility. The steel of the revolver was cold in my palm. My eyes locked onto it, unsure of when it had made its way from the drawer of the coffee table into my hand, or for that matter, when I had entered the living room. The earth seemed to be rotating at impossible speeds. Everything was black except for the gun in my hand and the book on the coffee table. That goddamn book. One of the pages had begun to tear away from the others, no doubt a result of my less than careful treatment of the thing, and a single word seemed to assault my fragile psyche.
Salvation.
I get it now
My heartbeat slows marginally as the unravelling of this book that I’ve read so many times presented a welcome distraction. There had been nothing left for Kramer, or anyone else for that matter, in a world that was dying around them. His salvation was freedom from the great plague. His call to “accept” the transformation, was not the same as giving in to it. After all, hadn’t he expressed over and over again exactly how to “find release” as he called it, from the infection.
Kramer, unlike me, had accepted that there was no life in transformation, no being, no humanity, and no way back. His moral dilemma had come to a close, likely with a bullet in his brain.
A reluctant chuckle rose through my chest and escaped my throat. It didn’t sound like me. It was twisted, choked, and raspy. She had always known hadn’t she, that I would stay in this house with her. That’s why she had forced me to swear up and down on something as silly and inevitable as a grey hair, before locking herself in that room five years ago. Knowing her, it had all been for my own good, a way for her to look out for me even after she was long gone.
The creak of the door was like nails on a chalkboard. I laid my eyes for the first time in years on my wife, or at least, what was left of her. I had seen the afflicted before, but seeing her in this state brought a blockage to my throat that nothing could have prepared me for. Her head had been obscured by the typical growth, characteristic of the great plague, A mass wider than her torso which was completely wrapped around her head, the loose flesh sagging down onto her shoulders. Large orange boils were dotted across this mass, as well as glistening, concave pits, where those boils had burst and left scars. The thick external vein structure wrapped around it was partially translucent, providing a window to the tar-like substance flowing slowly throughout. The worst thing, however, the thing that forced my tears out of my eyes and onto the corroded floor, was her body. Her clothes had long since disintegrated, leaving a sight that was fundamentally identical to what I remembered, with one exception. The excess weight of the mass upon her shoulder had atrophied her spine, which had crumpled, leaving her torso contorted in a grotesque fashion, the flesh and muscle folding in upon itself in places.
I had let this happen. I had as good as desecrated my wife’s corpse by leaving her in this state, by convincing myself that a cure would be found for a plague that had long-since been eradicated by other means. I did this.
My hands move as though without instruction from my brain, raising the revolver to my eye-level, pointing at the place where my wife’s head was concealed amid that horrid mass of flesh.
Her head tilted upwards slightly, as if she was looking at me with eyes that had been long-since obscured. That muffled, teary voice sounded out from amidst the heap weighing on her shoulders. Despite myself hesitated for just a moment, savoring the shadow of a voice that I would never hear again.
“Do you love me?”

“Beasts all over the shop…You’ll be one of them, sooner or later…”
The strange Hunter turned around and exhaled. His breath was visible against the night’s air.
He’s bloodlusted. Aegis, I hope you have a plan.
Shimmer saw Elpis step back slightly, with a shocked expression on her face. She shakily raised a claw and pointed at something on the ground.
No. It… it can’t be.
That’s… horrible.
A shattered red jeweled necklace lay strewn across the ground, beside the mangled corpse of the Silkwing.
The Hivewing in front of the three swung his axe to the side. As it was a trick weapon, he was able to change its form on command. The axe had two forms: a shortened form that acted sort of like a sword, and an extended form specialized in crowd control and reach.
He extended his axe and Shimmer heard a low snarl from his throat.
“Do we kill him?” Elpis asked, a hint of fear in her voice.
“We don't have a choice. Steel yourself.” Aegis muttered and brandished his silksabers. The blades gleamed in the soft light of the three moons.
The hunter was taller than all of them, one head taller than Aegis and two taller than Shimmer and Elpis. Black tattered robes clung to him, marking him a Shadowhunter. Blood from tonight’s hunt stained the black fabric, showcasing his expertise and experience in the hunt. He wore a rounded dark-gray hat, and bloodied bandages covered his eyes. Shimmer wondered if he could even see.
Corpses of both beasts and dragons were scattered about the square-shaped courtyard, an equal amount of gravestones breaking up the open space. His teeth were uneven as if he had been eating and chewing rough bones. Blood dripped from his mouth down his neck, and his Hivewing stingers flexed in anticipation.
“Be careful,” Aegis started, “He’s going to use magic. Elpis, don’t use any of yours.” He told the hybrid dragon beside him, and she nodded.
The hunter walked slowly around them, searching for a weakness in their structure, and then spat out a lump of coagulated blood.
“That stench of squalid blood. No beast will be spared.” He half-muttered and half-growled. He tipped his hat respectfully, before lunging at Elpis. She dove to the side, and tried to retaliate with her scythe, but just slightly missed.
This hunter was agile, surprisingly so considering how old he looked. Shimmer gripped the handle of her silkhammer, knowing it wasn’t the time to strike. She stepped backward, seeking cover behind a grave, while Aegis leaped forward with the intent to pierce the frenzied hunter’s heart. Once again, the hunter rolled to the side and sent his axe hurtling towards the smaller Silkwing. Shimmer felt fear grip her heart, but Aegis avoided the blade. He fell back and motioned for Elpis to stay back.
“A sporting hunt. But alas, I’ve forgotten to ask your name.” Aegis growled, and the hunter laughed a sick, disturbing laugh.
“The name’s Gascoigne.” He shot back, and jumped into the air, slamming his axe down where Aegis was a split second ago. Shimmer’s ears rung from the sound of the impact. Her antennae subconsciously curled in defensively.
“Gascoigne. That’s a nice name. I’ll tell Ludwig you were a proud hunter till the end.” Aegis replied and sent his twin blades slicing into the hunter’s thigh. He recoiled, and a gleeful laugh escaped his bloodied mouth.
“Hehe… the sweet stench of blood. Just… just marvelous!” He exclaimed and raised his off-talon towards Aegis.
“Aegis! Get down!” Shimmer called, and a burst of flame erupted from the hunter’s claws across the courtyard. The limited magic the Hivewing had that he was willing to use in this hunt.
Aegis fell back, hissing in pain as a few stray flames singed his tail. The hunter chuckled under his breath, and Elpis took advantage of the opening he had presented her. She thrust the blade of her scythe toward him, opting for its sword form as of now, and the hunter knocked the blow aside. He countered with a kick to the Ice-Hivewing’s ribs, and she was sent to the ground. She coughed up a spurt of blue Icewing blood, and the hunter lifted his axe for a finishing blow.
Shimmer roared out and swung her hammer toward the hunter. The silk connected it to her wrists as it flew through the air, and it hit the hunter square in his side just as his axe was falling. He was sent into the opposite side of the courtyard, coughing and sputtering, but with a faint smirk on his face. Shimmer was in disbelief; how was he not dead?
“Ooh, what’s that smell… the sweet blood, ooh, it sings to me! It's enough to make a dragon sick.” Gascoigne laughed hollowly. He raised his talon, and Shimmer quickly rolled to the side as a ball of flame soared past her horns.
He’s going to turn at this rate.
Shimmer hid under a gravestone as a tree behind her erupted in flames, and Aegis jumped into the air. He beat his four wings ferociously before diving into the hunter. He caught both of Aegis’ horns, and he twisted his head. Aegis fell to the ground, and Gascoigne slashed his axe down across the Silkwing’s leg. Aegis cried out, and Shimmer’s heart ached. She pushed herself up, ignoring the raging fire around her, and she threw her hammer up in the air and aimed it towards the hunter. He narrowly evaded the heavy impact of the stone before Shimmer heard a metal clang behind her.
Elpis, scythe in one talon, approached Gascoigne. She had the little music box in her other.
Elpis played the music box and a song of eerie notes filled the courtyard.
The hunter stumbled back, clawing at his face, and Elpis shot Shimmer a look, her face telling her to make sure Aegis was okay.
Elpis advanced on the struggling hunter, and Shimmer leaped over to her Silkwing partner, who was injured on the ground. She felt tears welling in her eyes, but she knew this wasn’t the time to cry.
“Aegis. Look at me. Look at me.” She repeated, and he lifted his head weakly. His leg had a massive gash in it, but he could probably still walk, just with a limp.
“Ah, Shimmer. I’m alright. I’ll be back in the fight. Go, help Elpis. I’ll join back soon enough.” He groaned, and the pair heard a roar behind them.
Elpis was locked in a duel with Gascoigne, and the hunter’s stray fireballs met with blasts of frostbreath. For the first time in the battle, the hunter had a slight look of fear on his face. Elpis was relentless, her burial blade swiftly countering and stopping any attempt Gascoigne made at advancing. Aegis crawled back and attempted to stand, using a grave for support.
“Shimmer! I can’t hold him for long!” Elpis called, and Shimmer nodded. She took the hammer in her claws and swung it around her side, and in a clockwise circle in the air. It was the perfect counterweight to her body weight. She hoisted it up further into the air and then brought it crashing down onto the hunter.
It struck Gascoigne directly on the spine, and he fell to the ground.
He screamed in pain.
And then, a bright light flashed from his body.
His screams deepened in tone, morphing to be more animalistic. His posture fell forward, and his muscles rippled through his body. He grew in size, and more of his bloodied garb ripped from the size change.
Fur sprouted from seemingly random places on the Hivewing’s body, and his claws extended. His face shifted, his features becoming more and more distorted. His black hat fell to the ground.
The bandages around his eyes stayed, as well as the black-tattered garb that marked him as once a Hunter.
He was no longer a Hunter. Moons above, he wasn’t even a dragon anymore.
He was now a beast.
Shimmer’s heart pounded in her chest. She stared at the transformation for a split second, before reeling in her hammer. She took it in her right talon and dove behind a gravestone, wary of the spreading flames.
Elpis, on the other claw, held her blade in front of her. Shimmer heard a rasping cough escape the Ice-HiveWing’s throat, but she didn’t break her stance.
The beast that was once Gascoigne whipped around toward Elpis, and launched himself at her, with a ferocity Shimmer had never seen even in beasts.
Elpis sidestepped quickly. The beast slammed into the wall with a loud roar, and Shimmer spied Aegis in her peripheral vision struggling to stand. He winced as he stood on his injured leg, but didn’t cry out. He brandished his two blades as the beast charged at him.
“Aegis!” Shimmer cried.
He’s going to get hit. That beast will kill him.
Aegis ignored her, and as soon as the beast was within a wingspan from him he twisted his body in such a way that he narrowly avoided the savage charge. He elegantly sliced his twin blades across the beast’s hide, and the creature howled before rapidly turning to face him.
Shimmer flew into the air. “Get away from him!” She yelled before bringing the weight of her hammer down on the beast. It flattened part of his ribcage, but it seemed impervious to the pain. It did knock him to the ground, though, giving Aegis a moment to cut through what was once two of the hunter’s wings.
The beast quickly got back on its claws before sending a flurry of swipes towards Shimmer. She dodged to the side and readied her hammer for another strike.
That was before the beast kicked her square in her chest, its sharp, ravenous claws digging in and tearing her scales. Shimmer fell back, a slight gasp escaping her mouth, and she stumbled back into the wall. She lost her footing and fell to the ground, and gazed up at the beast locked on her.
“Aegis! Help!” She yelled, and not even a second later her Silkwing partner crashed into the beast. They fell to the ground, grappling with each other before Shimmer heard a familiar song fill the courtyard.
Elpis was cranking the music box, its ominous lullaby breaking up the noise of the fight. The beast stopped attacking Aegis and instead clawed at its face. It growled and screamed in pain, drawing blood from its very own fur and scales.
“Now! Kill it!” She yelled through the song, and Aegis nodded before driving his two blades through the beast’s skull.
They stuck, and the beast roared before throwing him off. It crawled and thrashed about on the ground, clearly not dead, and the two new blades stuck to his head pointed out like new horns.
Now’s my chance.
Shimmer stumbled to her claws and wound her hammer up into the air. With every last bit of her strength, she brought it down on the flailing beast.
It crushed what was left of the hunter.
Silence filled the courtyard, only broken by a few stray notes from the music box, the pained breathing of the three hunters in the area, and the howls and screams from other places in the Hive.
Shimmer breathed a sigh of relief, before collapsing.
I did it. We did it.
Gascoigne was free.
…
“I brought you water.”
Shimmer opened her eyes and found herself in her familiar hospital room.
The morning sun’s rays lit the room, and Shimmer felt very little pain from her chest.
It had been three days since that night.
Shimmer fixed her gaze on the purple-orange Silkwing sitting beside her and smiled.
“Thanks. I’m feeling much better, we should get going to Bloodworm soon. It’s today, remember?” Shimmer asked, and he nodded. Of course, he remembered.
The summons for every hunter to come to Bloodworm Hive. Ludwig, The Holy Blade had requested them all. He no doubt planned an attack. A shame really, the hive was only newly rebuilt. And now it was going to be the site of a horrid, savage warzone.
“I remember. Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Ludwig would understand if you couldn’t come,” Aegis asked, and she spied a hint of worry on his face.
“I’m fine. I need to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. I’ll come.” She sighed and took a sip from the canteen that Aegis had brought. It tasted wonderful, he had put something in to flavor it.
“Honeydew?” She guessed, and Aegis smiled.
“Yep. It’s your favorite, right?” He asked, and she nodded. She opened her arms, and he hugged her tight.
“I love you,” Shimmer whispered in his ear.
“I love you too. I pray to Clearsight that we’ll both be safe today. I can’t bear to lose you.” Aegis replied. He pulled away and gazed out the window.
Shimmer quickly drank the rest of the honeydew-flavored water before getting out of bed. She joined him at the window and was slightly surprised by what she saw.
Almost all of the hunters of Jewel Hive were preparing, some of them already flying in the direction of Bloodworm. They were all sharpening their trick weapons, mixing poisons, or saying goodbye to loved ones.
“We should get going. It’ll be midmorning when we get there, I don’t want to be late.” Shimmer suggested, and Aegis put a wing around her.
“Now? I need to get my stuff, and you do too. Join me at the workshop.” He asked, and she slid her head in the curve of his neck as he led her out of her sick room.
…
Shimmer beat her wings strong and fast against the morning savanna winds.
She saw what looked to be several hundred, maybe even a thousand dragons gathered around a hill. All of them had a colored garb fluttering proudly from their neck. Around ninety percent of the garbs were white, and the rest were black.
They were all different tribes and a fair amount of hybrids were scattered about as well. The gathered hunters were mostly Pantalan, but a good few were from Pyrrhia as well.
Shimmer and Aegis landed a short distance away from the hill, and all around them the sounds of dragons conversing and laughing with each other.
The sun was high in the sky, but it wasn’t quite noon yet.
“You see anyone you recognize?” Aegis asked, and Shimmer shook her head.
“There’s too many dragons here. It’s too much.” She whimpered, and Aegis pulled her close. He knew she didn’t do well in crowds. That was partly why she became a Shadowhunter. To work alone or with no more than a few other dragons.
“You’re safe with me.” He comforted her, and she leaned against him.
She had always hated being with a lot of other dragons. Aegis said it sounded like she had anxiety, which made sense. It didn’t do much to alleviate that fear, though.
None of them are thinking about you. They’re all busy with their own stuff.
Just take deep breaths.
“Do you want to move away? There’s fewer dragons over there,” He asked and pointed a claw across from them.
“…No, no I’m fine.” She whispered, and Aegis sighed.
“Alright. If you want to move, don’t be afraid to ask. I don’t mind it.”
Shimmer shook her head quickly, before the pair heard a loud voice from the top of the hill. They both looked up and saw the legendary hunter himself: Ludwig.
The menacing Nightwing stood proudly, his holy silver sword slung across his shoulder. His partner Memoria stood beside him, her tail twined around his. She had a bored look on her face as she stared at the crowd. The voices of the dragons fell silent, and Shimmer felt like she could breathe again.
The Nightwing’s loud voice echoed through the plain. “Dear Hunters.” He paused, his heroic voice inspiring pride and triumph in Shimmer, even though he had barely started.
“I’m sure all of you know why we’re here. Behind me, Bloodworm Hive stands proud against the horizon. Yet I am more than certain you all know what lies inside.” He paused and pointed his sword toward the dark shape of the Hive.
“Beasts. A few thousand. I think it’s time we put them out of their misery. That is why we are here. A battle of the ages, one that will go down in history. We, the brave heroes, fighting against evil. We will be reveled, we will be honored. We will protect the dragons we hold dear to our hearts, and save those we can yet save.” His speech roused the crowd, and Shimmer felt herself stand a little taller.
“The plan is simple. The Hunters of the Sun will lead the charge from the front. I have already talked to the leaders of the charge. The Shadowhunters will pick the stray beasts off from behind. We will attack at dusk when half the sun is hidden from the eye.” He gestured with his sword at the rising sun, and he extended his wings. His massive wingspan seemed to fill the sky, and Shimmer's heart swelled with pride.
He held his sword up to the heavens, and it transformed. It grew larger, into the shape of a claymore, and it turned a shade of sacred jade. It glowed with an otherworldly light, and the crowd was enamored by the display.
“Now, hunters. Spend the rest of today preparing. The hunt is on tonight. Ludwig, The Holy Blade will be with all of you in spirit.” He bellowed, and the crowd erupted in applause and cheers.
Shimmer saw a proud, triumphant look in Aegis’ eyes, and she felt the same. Ludwig’s blade captivated her. The blade of legend, inspiring all who lay eyes on it.
Ludwig would be with them tonight. The best, the greatest, the strongest hunter ever.
Tonight, the hunters would not know defeat.
Nor would they ever, with Ludwig alive and at their side.
May the good blood guide your way,
Ultima_8

It seems like she’s feeling insecure again. I keep my eyes shut tight, preparing myself for the song and dance I had been through so many times before. The weight of the bed shifts under me as she crawls under the blankets. A cold limb flops over my torso, wrapping me in a frigid embrace. I resist the urge to flinch as the moist, squishy mass of flesh presses into my forehead, a tickling droplet of fluid slides down my face and over my tightly pursed lips. Not daring to move, I waited patiently for the words I knew must come. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, a muffled teary voice sounds in a desperate tone:
“Do you...”
The voice falters, emitting several low-pitched, labored gurgles before continuing:
“Love me?”
Without hesitation I respond, as gently as could be managed:
“Of course I love you. But it’s time to go back to sleep now, okay?”
The gurgling continues, higher pitched now, like an excited baby. After a few moments the squishy mass detaches itself from my forehead, and the weight in the bed shifts. The gentle smacking of feet against hardwood floor, and a door quietly closing across the house resound in the otherwise silent room. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I rock gently back and forth with my head in between my legs, resisting the tears that are fighting to escape. I allow a few moments of this pointless self-pity before forcing myself to stand up.
I walk down the hallway to the bathroom, not allowing my eyes to stray to the door to what used to be my room. A look in the mirror reveals that my forehead has already started breaking out in small orange pustules, along with a small streak of them where the fluid had dripped down my face. At least it didn't get in my mouth this time. That isn’t a panic I would like to revisit. I retrieve the small bottle of vinegar from the medicine cabinet and apply it to a cotton ball, beginning the tedious task of treating my face. A harsher acid would probably do a better job, but I prefer to avoid the stinging even if the pustules disappear more slowly. It’s not like I need to look handsome for anyone. It’s unlikely she can even really see me.
Once my skin is sufficiently covered in the stuff, I grab a bucket and mop, and clean the wet footprints from the hallway, and from the living room where my bed is located. Most of the wood flooring throughout the house is already somewhat corroded, but I’d prefer to keep my home intact to the extent that I am able. Although it’s up to anyone’s guess what manner of hellscape the bedroom must look like. I hadn’t been in that room in a long time. That was her domain now, and there was no reason for me to enter. No reason to take that risk.
I light the small gas cooktop in the kitchen and get to work making food for the day. Canned food is surprisingly appetizing when there’s nothing to do but eat. It would taste better with some seasoning, but there was no point in going through that much effort. This food serves one purpose, and that’s to keep us from starving. I slide one plate under the crack between the floor and the bedroom door and sit down in the living room with the other plate in hand.
The book on the coffee table catches my eye as it does every morning. Sighing, I pick up the ratty collection of pages and flip to a random one. One of the few books on the “Great Plague” as they call it, that was ever published, or at least, the only one I could ever find. Titled “The End” by Jared Kramer, It was more of a fanatical opinion piece than a proper informative book, but Kramer at least provided a bit of information on the virus, how the transformation works, and what methods could be used to, in his words, “Cure” the afflicted. A shotgun was noted as the best medicine, with gasoline and matches being a close second. Near the middle of the book, the portion that was coincidentally staring back at me from the pages, it turned into a near unintelligible ranting on the philosophy of consciousness. Apparently, Kramer had only just begun to consider whether blowing the afflicted’s brains out was a morally reasonable decision. He had never come across as a particularly intelligent guy in his writings, and my assumption was that he was simply the only person who wrote fast enough to get a book published before the plague became a worldwide epidemic. Towards the end of the book, Kramer does a 180 and states repeatedly that “Accepting the transformation is the only road to salvation”.
“Salvation... as if”
My words perish in the empty air, a death rattle of frustrated skepticism.
I had never quite understood what that actually meant. Salvation would be something like deliverance from harm, harm being the only thing that the plague brought to the world. The book thuds as I carelessly toss it back on the table. It's obvious that the author was in the process of transforming as he wrote the final passages, but they never ceased to bother me. Perhaps I'm just fixating on those words as a way of keeping my mind occupied.
There’s really no reason to focus on such pointless things.
--------------------
The following night my sleep was peaceful and uninterrupted. She usually shows up once a week, if not less frequently. After waking, the bathroom mirror reveals that the pustules ha subsided slightly, leaving my skin smooth, if not free of the noticeable blemishes. A subtle glint of light shines off of my head and my heart rate accelerates.
Surely not.
Surely it was a trick of the light.
I begin rifling through my matted hair furiously and there it is. A single, silver hair hanging in front of my forehead.
I guess this is it then.
She made sure I had sworn on everything under the sun. Her stupid goofy smile reflected in my memory.
“First grey hair and I’m outta here mister”
To think that a silly little joke between us had turned into this solemn responsibility. The steel of the revolver was cold in my palm. My eyes locked onto it, unsure of when it had made its way from the drawer of the coffee table into my hand, or for that matter, when I had entered the living room. The earth seemed to be rotating at impossible speeds. Everything was black except for the gun in my hand and the book on the coffee table. That goddamn book. One of the pages had begun to tear away from the others, no doubt a result of my less than careful treatment of the thing, and a single word seemed to assault my fragile psyche.
Salvation.
I get it now
My heartbeat slows marginally as the unravelling of this book that I’ve read so many times presented a welcome distraction. There had been nothing left for Kramer, or anyone else for that matter, in a world that was dying around them. His salvation was freedom from the great plague. His call to “accept” the transformation, was not the same as giving in to it. After all, hadn’t he expressed over and over again exactly how to “find release” as he called it, from the infection.
Kramer, unlike me, had accepted that there was no life in transformation, no being, no humanity, and no way back. His moral dilemma had come to a close, likely with a bullet in his brain.
A reluctant chuckle rose through my chest and escaped my throat. It didn’t sound like me. It was twisted, choked, and raspy. She had always known hadn’t she, that I would stay in this house with her. That’s why she had forced me to swear up and down on something as silly and inevitable as a grey hair, before locking herself in that room five years ago. Knowing her, it had all been for my own good, a way for her to look out for me even after she was long gone.
The creak of the door was like nails on a chalkboard. I laid my eyes for the first time in years on my wife, or at least, what was left of her. I had seen the afflicted before, but seeing her in this state brought a blockage to my throat that nothing could have prepared me for. Her head had been obscured by the typical growth, characteristic of the great plague, A mass wider than her torso which was completely wrapped around her head, the loose flesh sagging down onto her shoulders. Large orange boils were dotted across this mass, as well as glistening, concave pits, where those boils had burst and left scars. The thick external vein structure wrapped around it was partially translucent, providing a window to the tar-like substance flowing slowly throughout. The worst thing, however, the thing that forced my tears out of my eyes and onto the corroded floor, was her body. Her clothes had long since disintegrated, leaving a sight that was fundamentally identical to what I remembered, with one exception. The excess weight of the mass upon her shoulder had atrophied her spine, which had crumpled, leaving her torso contorted in a grotesque fashion, the flesh and muscle folding in upon itself in places.
I had let this happen. I had as good as desecrated my wife’s corpse by leaving her in this state, by convincing myself that a cure would be found for a plague that had long-since been eradicated by other means. I did this.
My hands move as though without instruction from my brain, raising the revolver to my eye-level, pointing at the place where my wife’s head was concealed amid that horrid mass of flesh.
Her head tilted upwards slightly, as if she was looking at me with eyes that had been long-since obscured. That muffled, teary voice sounded out from amidst the heap weighing on her shoulders. Despite myself hesitated for just a moment, savoring the shadow of a voice that I would never hear again.
“Do you love me?”

PC
Reddit Account: 420Tower
Discord Tag: Rangi
Name and House: Denys Waynwood
Age: 23
Cultural Group: Andal
Appearance: A tall and fit man, Denys stands proud at 5’10”, brown of hair and eyes, the Lord Waynwood displays his strengths. Away from prying eyes, Denys bears a burnt torso, a reminder of the clans who mained him.
Trait:Brave
Skill(s): Swords, Andal Knight (E),shields, footwork
Talent(s): Fishing, wood carving
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Lord of Ironoaks, Ser
Starting Location: Opening Event
Alternate Characters: N/A
BIO:
Denys Waynwood was born as the fourth son of Lord Jasper Waynwood and his wife, the Lady Gretchel Coldwater. The boy came forth with a strong pair of lungs, as evidenced by the wails that followed the boy at birth. The succession of House Waynwood was secured, and for that, Jasper was grateful. It would not be too many years however until Denys was followed by sisters, Alyssa and Myranda.
Denys grew up in the shadows of his older brothers, Elbert, Jonothor, and Lyn. All three were trained at their fathers side, to be lords, and spares properly. Yet Jasper Waynwood did not pay much heed to his youngest son, even as the boy grew tall and into a stubborn man. The kindest thing that Jasper Waynwood had done was send his son to squire in Gulltown.
It was in Gulltown that Denys bloomed into the man he wanted to be. He held no imaginations of being a Lord, nor did he want to join the Nights Watch or Faith. The Maesters less so. Instead, Denys wanted to be a warrior. It was in Gulltown that Denys threw himself into training with the sword, to be a warrior for his brothers, and with the shield, to be their stalwart defender when the day came.
It was upon the name day of Denys elder brother Jonothor that his life changed suddenly. At 19 years old, Denys would join his brothers and fathers on a hunt through the Vale, straying farther than normal from Ironoaks. This was a mistake. Confident in himself and his sons, Jasper Waynwood had brought a light contingent of guards, an ill number when the Clans had arrived.
Jasper fought, and Jasper died, a barbarian having taken the Lord Waynwood down. Ever the coward, Jonothor was slain trying to flee, next to fall was Lyn, who died with honor. Finally, it was Elbert. Denys did his duty and guarded his brother, even as his shield broke, and his sword was locked ik combat, Denys stood proud over Elbert.
All for naught. Denys did not see the barbrian coming, who had tackled him into a smouldering fire that had once been meant to cook the spoils of the hunt. The fires engulfed Denys, licking at his body, the screams piercing the air. He did not notice when Elbert perished, or when the remains of his guards got him back to Ironoaks. All he knew in the end was that the Seven seemed to have plans for him.
Family tree:
Jasper Waynwood- Father, Dead
Gretchel Waxley-Mother
Elbert Waynwood- Brother, dead
Jonothor Waynwood- Brother, Dead
Lyn Waynwood- Brother, dead
Alyssa Waynwood- Sister
Myranda Waynwood- Sister
Jonos Waynwood- Uncle
Hubert Waynwood- Cousin
Gwayne Waynwood- Cousin
AC
Name and House: Jonos Waynwood
Age: 37
Cultural Group: Andal
Appearance: Tall and strong, brown hair, brown eyes.
Trait: Hale
Skill(s): Blunt weapons (E), shield
Talent(s): Painting
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Ser
Starting Location: Opening Event
Alternate Characters:` N/A
BIO:
Jonos Waynwood was the second son of Lord Eon Waynwood, and spare to Ironoaks once upon a time. He had served his brother Jasper well, riding alongside the man when Aegon declared to conqueor the Vale.
When Jasper had his sons, it was Jonos who inspired loyalty in the lads, loyalty to the Arryns above all else. As had been in the days of old. Now, with his brother and all but one nephew dead, Jonos serves Denys without hesitation.
NPC:
Yohn Stone- Master at Arms
Artys the Gallant: General

So I (31M) just recently got out of a long term relationship of 10+ years within the past 6 months. My ex (31F) was great but things just didn’t work out with us. That’s another post for another time. She was very to herself and didn’t really have many friends outside of our relationship. I was the same as her. We spent most of our time together outside of work and didn’t get on social media at all. This all is pretty much irrelevant to the story that I’m needing advice about, but I’m trying to paint the picture of how I’m used to my gf acting.
So if you did the math, yes, I jumped into a relationship after a month of my really long one ending. I will say that my last relationship ended (not solely but was an issue) bc I wanted further commitment, kids, and to get married. She was more focused on her job. This led to a lot of other problems and I made my fair share of mistakes too. So to say I shouldn’t have jumped into a relationship so fast is probably accurate, but here we are.
So my current relationship is not like my last one at all. We go out all the time, but I also really enjoy her company. As a man who had somewhat of a traditional woman before, this girl (27F) is not like that. I’m not opposed to it necessarily, but it’s definitely something that will take some getting used to. One thing that bothers me is the sheer amount of guy friends she has. I’ve always been told that it’s a red flag, but I’m opening myself up to it. Ive never really been that insecure about the idea of it. I am always the type to trust someone unless they give me a reason not to, but I’ve never had to face this problem where I should choose to put up with it or not. At the beginning of our relationship, there were red flags everywhere. We started drinking together and did not get along at all when intoxicated. She would say she used to be wild which immediately took my mind to the darkest places as a man lol but I understand that meeting someone and learning someone new can be a challenge. I won’t know anyone’s past like I did my ex, so I try not to draw conclusions. Maybe I’m just in denial, but I’m trying to shine the best light on it I can to give this girl a real chance.
The drinking was really the only thing that interfered with our relationship. Unlike my last relationship where communication was a big issue for me, I’m trying to be more open about my concerns this time. So far everything has been great more so bc of that I think. She hears my concerns and makes a good effort to fix them. After talking with her about what I thought of us drinking, we only drink on special occasions now and not nearly as much. We don’t even argue when we do.
Well fast forward to the night of this concert. As you might have guessed, it was a special occasion and there was alcohol involved. We had went to a concert the previous week and ran into this guy she used to run into when she would frequent bars and stuff in her past I guess. He seems like a cool guy, I met him and things weren’t weird at all then. Anyway I had seen that he messaged her the following morning on social media and I guess they exchanged numbers. I saw this by complete accident when I was stealing her phone charger and even felt guilty for reading it at the time. We get to the venue and she tells me he’s there. Pretty much from the beginning I see that her attention is divided between me and him. This guy is on a completely different floor but within sight. I keep noticing that she keeps turning her head and looking up at him. I feel like it had to be at least 50-100 times that I noticed it. She’s also texting him to the point her phone died. Probably also from recording the show and everything else but my mind is starting to feel insecurities at this point that I didn’t know I had. She wasn’t hiding what she was saying or anything, but I wasn’t exactly looking over her shoulder to look either. At some points in the night he would come and talk to us. One of the times he took his hoodie off and my gf grabbed it and put it around her waste for the rest of the show when he went back upstairs.
By this point in the night, I’m actually sick to my stomach at the thought that this girl is giving this guy this much attention while we’re out together. I would be mad even if she was doing this with another woman, but I feel like it is a little worse that it’s a guy. I’m pretty much silent and noticeably not having a good time. She notices this and is more nice and affectionate than I feel like she has ever been. I still don’t think she knows exactly what it was and I continue to notice her staring up in his direction til the show was over.
After the show, we both had people we knew talking in the same circle. She hugged a lot of people to say her goodbyes and he was obviously one of them. A hug is not something I would be upset about, but given how the night had gone, I would be lying if I said it didn’t bother me. It didn’t make the cut for our discussion later as it shouldn’t, I’m just trying not to leave anything out.
We get back to her place, and I’m laying awake in bed with my heart racing. I really didn’t want to communicate this bc as a man I have this idea that complaining about anything just makes me a wuss. So this time I’m trying to be more open about my feelings. Well we talked about it and I told her how I felt and what I saw. She didn’t deny that she did those things except for the amount of times she looked him, but she expressed that she doesn’t feel for him that way. I told her it felt like she was disrespecting me by giving that much attention to someone else and she agreed that she was in the wrong. I’m not sure what to take of this, but I’m not sure what else she could have said.
Well it’s the next day and we’re fine for now, but the sight of her looking up at him and texting him has been living rent free in my head. It keeps popping in my head. This is all so new to me, and I need advice. Am I just being insecure, or is this really something I should be concerned for going forward? My dignity tells me to run, but she really has been making an effort in our relationship. Should I proceed with caution, or end the relationship? Am I completely overreacting?
Before anyone tells me my ways of thinking are probably delusional or I have a horrible way of thinking of things, I hear you. My mind was set in a lot of ways from my past relationship and I’m genuinely trying to learn how I should be reacting to stuff like this. I swear I’m like Dr Phil when it comes to other people’s problems but I’m completely lost with my own. If you made it this far, thank you for hearing me vent.

I want to start out by saying this is the first review I’ve ever made. I’ve never felt so inclined to make a review towards any establishment, let alone a senior living facility. I’m a 24 year old black female and I’ve been a delivery driver for years and I come in contact with so many different people and this interaction by far has taken the cake. I am an independent contractor for Amazon. I deliver groceries that customers order from Whole Foods kind of like instacart. This is a side gig that my partner and I do just to make a little extra money when we can. I always have my partner do these deliveries with me since I am young and a female and have been in some very sketchy situations while delivering and I am so glad he was here with me today. On this particular morning, May 15, 2024 at around 8-8:20am, we had a delivery to a resident at this facility. My gps leads me directly to the front of this establishment where I park underneath the pergola. I proceeded to the first set of doors leading to a foyer where then I was met with another set of doors in which I couldn’t open because they were locked. I then looked to the right of me and saw a doorbell with a sign above it asking to please ring the doorbell for further assistance. After ringing the doorbell, I was greeted by Jeff Puls, who I was later informed by other staff was the director of this establishment. He goes on to tell me that I am at the wrong entrance, I cannot make my delivery to the resident here and I need to go to the front entrance. I then tell him that I think I am at the front entrance and give him a description of where I am, but again, he says I’m not in the right place. So, we drive around the building trying to find any other entrance that could be the correct one and every entrance I tried had locked doors and seemed as though they were residential access only. We come back to where I am certain the main entrance is and I call the resident to whom I’m delivering to and she confirms that I am at the correct entrance and that I shouldn’t have any problems getting in. While on the phone, we see someone come out of the buildings doors and walk over to the driver side so I roll down my window where Jeff Puls angrily asks me “what do you want, I told you to go to the front” and then asks what it is that I’m delivering. I tell him that I just have a flower delivery from Whole Foods for [insert residents name] and I originally tried to deliver here in the front but you told me I was not at the front entrance. He huffs and puffs and says “give them here”. I present the flowers and he then aggressively snatched them right out of my hands, leaving two bouquets still in my hands. I open my door and try to hand him the remaining flowers which he again aggressively snatches out of my hands and as he’s walking away he says, “f****** b****…..all you delivery drivers are all the same, I can’t stand you”. Me and my partner then step out of the vehicle and asks him to speak to a manager or someone higher up in authority for what he just said to me. Jeff refused and continued to get into our faces, point his fingers in front of our faces while yelling at us to leave. He then proceeds to threaten to call the police if we didn’t leave to which me and my partner encouraged him to do so because we drive a Tesla that has eight cameras around the car constantly recording so we were eager to show the police officers his behavior towards us. While awaiting the police officers, Jeff continues to badger us, taunt us, called me a racial slur and would not keep his distance away from us even when asked to back away nicely. I then decided to wait in our car for the police and as soon as I sit down in the passenger seat and go to close the door, I see Jeff charging at me. I immediately start to close the door as fast as i could and honestly right in the nick of time because he kicks my car door! Finally, the police officers arrive, and of course, like most people do when the police show up, he cowers away and acts calm, cool and collected in front of them. We speak to the police officers and show them the footage of the whole incident from start to finish and we are currently in the process of taking more legal action. Thank you to the nurse working on the clock that day that came out when the incident was happening to make sure everything was okay and made sure that the flowers we promptly delivered to the resident there and another thank you to the maintenance guy that also came out during the incident to give us the name, number and email of the higher ups to proceed with further action. I don’t plan on taking my parents to a senior facility anytime time soon or even at all because of people like Jeff. If he exhibits this type of behavior to a delivery driver, then I can only imagine his behavior and treatment towards the elderly and people like him are why I fear having to take my parents to a senior facility.

The Terran Union Heavy Cruiser, Roanoke, had spent the last 6 months raiding Naalx supply lines in the Flores sector.
They were finally returning to Terran Space for some much-needed refit and some R&R. But first, they were stopping at the Bateri space station orbiting Emsar IV.
She would be meeting a Terran Union squadron to escort her prizes back to the Couster system. 4 freighters, a massive ore hauler, and a damaged Naalx corvette that answered a distress call sooner than expected.
The Roanoke was one of the new Grenville class heavy cruisers, faster and more heavily armed than the other heavy cruiser classes operating as part of a Terran Union fleet.
They were designed as solo raiders able to operate deep in enemy space, raiding enemy supply lines and facilities.
Their design included several newly developed systems, including a new style of radiator for dumping excess heat.
At 500 m long and painted black as night, she was very intimidating to see on visual screens and even more so at close range. Her CrCoNi (chromium, cobalt, and nickel) hull was covered in 12” of ablative armor covered in a black laser-resistant material able to reduce the effectiveness of enemy sensors and target locks.
The experimental Baxter radiators efficiently released excess heat into space but still left them exposed to radiation detection sensors.
Captain Josef Král had been hand-picked to command the Roanoke when she came into service 18 months ago. He was a popular officer with 20 years of combat experience on just about every ship in the Terran Union’s navy.

He’d also provided technical assistance during its design phase so his familiarity with the ship made him the best choice for putting the ship through her paces. This would be the very first voyage behind enemy lines as a raider.
And it’d been a rousing success, hitting targets deep in Naalx space as reprisal for Naalxian raids on Terran border colonies. The First Naalx-Terran war had devastated both species and left them vulnerable to outside forces. The war wasn’t won so much as winding down to a series of raids and counter-raiding. A gentleman’s agreement to prevent raids and border skirmishes from turning into another full-scale war and the earlier consequences.
And Captain Král was very good at approaching that line in the sand without going over it. Several centuries earlier he’d have been a Privateer sailing the oceans on Earth.
This even led to the revival of the old pirate movies of the 20th century but Captain Král preferred likening it to the submarine warfare of the first half of the 20th century. That didn’t stop his crew from giving him a robot parrot.
He claims to hate it but everyone knows he’s been teaching it his extensive vocabulary of curse words, in dozens of languages, that he loved it.
And if you call him out on him walking around with it on his shoulder, he’ll claim he was just humoring the crew.
Captain Král was relieved to see the Terran squadron had arrived before him and ordered his little fleet to dock. It would be good to be able to get off the ship and move around without weapons.
As Captain Král exited the ship, he was surprised to see Commodore Allen waiting for him. It’d been several years since he last saw his friend and previous XO. Taking his prerogative as a Captain, he skipped the formalities, shook hands, and gave Commodore Allen a friendly slap on the back.
“Mike? What the hell are you doing here? This is escort job is for a Lt. to do” He asked
“I was in the neighborhood and volunteered. I wanted to see this new ship of yours and it’s been too long since we got a drink together.” Mike replied
Captain Král took a glance back to his ship and wasn’t surprised to see his current XO, Lt. Commander Nana Ricci had the resupply well in hand.
With a big grin, Captain Král said, “Let me see to my guests and we can see if we can scandalize the ratings like we used to.”
Captain Král approached the waiting station manager. The Bateri bowed in the formal greeting of her people. Not having the tentacles needed to return the bow, he just saluted her.
“Greetings Captain Král of the Terrans, how may we be of service?” The Bateri asked.
“Greetings Ananu of the Bateri. We request the use of your services,” he replied, finishing the ritual greeting.
“I see you returned successful in your raiding,” Ananu said, “How many bunks will you need?”
Unsurprised that the Bateri knew his mission, he replied “ 72 bunks with 3 more for your med bay, if you have the room.”
One of the most important functions provided by the Bateri was allowing for the return of captives taken in raids. This helped to keep things calmer by freely releasing captives to limit the amount of bad blood created during the raids and conflicts.
Crates of supplies, ammo, missiles, and the various other things needed to keep the ship functioning were being transferred from the smaller Terran ships. With her weapon complement being only slightly smaller than a battleship, she could go through a lot of ammunition. Even without being in serious combat, he liked to run frequent gunnery drills. Some Captains would just let their tactical computers handle operating the weapon systems and just have the gunnery crews handle reloads. But some hard lessons taught him that having the gunnery crews able to take direct control, as needed, was essential. He preferred to use up as much ammunition as needed during training to save lives later in combat.
Seeing everything in hand, he walked back to join his friend for a drink. They caught up on the doings of old friends and Mike’s family, toasts to fallen comrades, and eventually to the Roanoke.
‘How did she operate on her first long-range mission?” Mike asked
Taking a moment to organize his thoughts, Captain Král took a sip of his drink. “She handled better than expected. The new engine behaved itself, surprising for being just off the drawing board, the Baxters were damn efficient.”
Taking another sip before continuing, “ We didn’t use the torpedoes or the turreted railguns in combat but the rest performed as expected. That Corvette didn’t stand a chance so we didn’t get a full test of all the combat systems.”
“Going by the number of munitions I brought with me, you’d think I was resupplying a battleship” Mike joked
“Just about,” Captain Král chuckled. “During the design phase, I had to argue for such an increase of armament.” “It seemed to take forever for them to get it through their thick skulls that we’d be out there all alone and couldn’t call for reinforcements.” “So I convinced them to put the 2 particle beam systems in the bow of the ship and give me the 4 torpedo tubes. They had no problem with the pair at the bow but they couldn’t figure out why I wanted a pair aft. I swear I thought about launching them out of a tube.”

“At least they were starting to get it when I up-gunned the turrets to carry two large railguns. They did get upset at wanting to put on a turret in the middle of the ventral side but were relieved I left the other turret on the dorsal side ahead of the command structures”
Commodore Allen asked,” From the glimpse I got as you docked, it looked like you doubled the usual weapon systems?”
“She still has them 10 secondary batteries but I went with dual medium railguns for them” Captain Král replied, “ I put 4 of the quad-mounted autocannons on each side of the ship.”
“ It should let us save wear and tear on the railguns when we catch unarmed ships or against incoming fighters.”
“ I understand and it also saves on missiles, which with 4 heavy and 8 medium is a lot of missiles to carry.” Commodore Allen replied.
“I’ve also heard you were running tests on a more powerful deflector array to do more than just protect against radiation and small debris. Like maybe actual shields that would work on anything smaller than a battleship?”
“Yeah but not with any success,” Captain Král answered, “Anytime we tried to go past the standard low-power output, it played hell with our sensors.”
It was at that moment when Captain Král’s wrist communicator beeped for his attention.
“Just a second Mike,” he said as he keyed the communicator. “ Král, go ahead”
The sound of Lt. Commander Ricci’s voice came through the speaker, “ Priority message from the bridge Captain.”
“ What is the message?” Captain Král asked, not liking the way Ricci’s voice sounded worried
“ Sensor buoy reports large Naalx fleet dropping out of FTL, 2 million km out,” Ricci reported
Commodore Allen gave Captain Král the same concerned look that he was sure was on his face. “How many?” The captain asked
Ricci hesitated for a moment before answering “37 ships with more arriving every couple of minutes.”
Commodore Allen swore
Captain Král looked at his friend, “How long until you get your crews and get out of here?”
Commodore Allen thought for a moment, “ Maybe 20 minutes at the minimum.”
Captain Král muttered to himself, “They’ll be here before that.”
Both men got up, signaled to any of their personnel in the bar, and started out the door. “I’ll buy you the time but I’ll need to undock as soon as I get aboard my ship, maybe I can catch them off-guard. “ Captain Král
Commodore Allen replied, “That’s a suicide mission, there are too many for one ship to handle”
“Yeah, I know, old friend but if I don’t then we all die.” Captain Král explained, “ Do me a favor, I’m going to send you my non-essential personnel, take them and those still on the station with you. Get them home.”
Reaching the hatch to the docking bay, both men stopped to shake hands. “Of course, Josef.” Commodore Allen replied, “But if anyone can find a way out of it, it’s you, my friend.”
After a final salute, both men parted ways to reach their ship. As Captain Král jogged down the docking bay, he sent orders for Ricci to send all non-essential personnel to Commodore Allen and asked if they had sufficient hands to man all combat stations.
Ricci’s reply reassured him, “ Aye Sir, most of the crew on the station are from the 2nd watch, and the few people from the first watch are non-essential.”
“Be ready to launch as soon as I get aboard.” He ordered.
He passed several members of his crew, en route to join Commodore Allen. He stopped to return their salute. At the disappointed look in their eyes, he told them. “I know you don’t want to leave the ship but the Commodore needs some real sailors to get out on time. You know how those logistic guys are. They’ll get lost trying to find their own bridge”
That look reassured them and after a final salute, they headed down the dock to join Commodore Allen
Captain Král reached the cargo ramp and started up it, calling Ricci and telling her to shove off and he’d be on the bridge shortly.
He sprinted down the corridor, leaping over the lower lips of the vacuum-tight doors.
“Captain on the Bridge!” rang out from one of the bridge techs. Aside from the guards and his XO, the rest of the bridge crew kept working. Nodding his approval at their knowing when to discard ceremony for action. He walked over toward his console before speaking.
“What do we have, Lt. Commander?”
Turning to face him, Captain Král could see just how worried she was. “Current count is 48 ships.” Touching the console’s keys to bring up a list of ships before continuing, “ 18 capital ships and a mix of sub-caps, still trying to ID them.”
“They’re just maintaining position for now.” Ricci finished, her voice slightly puzzled.
“They’re waiting for something or someone,” Captain Král answered the unasked question.
“How many crew did we leave behind?”
“641, Sir” the XO replied
“ Helm, are we clear of the station's shielding?”
“Almost Sir,” The helmsman answered.
“Thank you.” Captain Král returned.
Turning to another tech, he said, “Sound Battlestations”

“Sir,” one of his sensor techs spoke up, “We have 2 more ships arriving.”
“ Thank you, Ensign.” Captain Král returned
“What class are they?” Lt Commander Ricci asked
After looking at her monitor again the tech replied, “1 heavy cruiser and something much bigger, waiting for the computer to ID it.”
Captain Král moved to look over the tech’s shoulder before standing up and facing his XO.
“Fleet Command Ship” he informed the tech and his XO.
Lt. Commander Ricci replied, “What the hell is one doing out here?”
“Good Question.” he answered, “And now that the players are on the field, the game can begin.”
Bringing up the sensor information to his console, Captain Král pointed at the enemy fleet. “They haven’t begun to deploy into battle formation yet.”
“That could be our chance.” Raising his head to look at his XO. “If we jump now we can land close and surprise them. After we land, we drive into the center of their formation and head for that big bastard.” He explained
“But Sir, We haven’t fully tested the jump drive!” the XO exclaimed
“No time like the present, “ Captain Král joked

“We’ll let the railguns and autocannon crews pick targets of opportunity, while we engage the command ship with our particle cannons, heavy railguns, and torpedoes,” he stated
“What about its point defense system, won’t it pick off the torps?” the XO asked
“We’re going to launch all the Hammerheads at it. It should overwhelm the system and let the torps through.” He answered before continuing, “I’m going to save the heavy missiles for now.”
“You’ll need to calculate the launch time of the Hammerheads to hit the point defense system as close to the time for the torpedoes to sneak through.” he ordered, “ But not so far they take out the Hammerheads too soon and let them hit the torps but not so close they set them off either.”
Looking at his XO, “You better get down to tactical Nana, this is going to get ugly, and it’s best we split up.” Captain Král commanded
Exchanging salutes, Ricci simply replied “Aye Sir.” and started for the hatch. Just before stepping through, she turned and said, “Good Luck, Sir.
“What’s the status of the Commodore’s squad?” Captain Král asked
One of his communication techs spoke up, “ They need 10 more minutes”
“Let me know the minute they are clear.” Captain Král ordered
Captain Král turned to comms tech and ordered, “Intraship comms if you please ensign”
“Aye sir” the tech replied before turning to his console and speaking into the mic,” Now hear this, Now hear this. Message from the Captain.”
“ Well folks, this isn’t the fight I wanted but this is the fight we got” Captain Král started
“ I’m sure you’ve heard scuttlebutt about the situation but here it is. We are facing a superior force numbering 49 ships. And we need to give the Commodore’s squadron time to go to FTL and get the hell out of here.” he paused before continuing, “ The plan is to mix it up with the enemy at close range. They aren’t in battle formation yet so we can hurt them.”
“Good luck and let’s make them regret fucking with the Roanoke.”
The sounds of cheers came back over the speakers.
“Helm, are we clear of the station shielding?” the Captain asked
At the affirmative given by the helmsmen, he just nodded
Touching a button on his console, he asked, “Are you in place XO?”
“Aye Sir.” the Lt. Commander replied
“ As soon as we land, be ready to open up with the dual and quad mounts.” He ordered
The XO replied with an affirmative.
“Helm, at my command, jump between 25-50 km to the starboard of the fleet.”
“As soon as we land, hard to port and get us in the middle of them. Be ready for rapid maneuvers, maybe we can throw off their laser battery tracking systems. Might let us survive a little longer” Captain Král ordered. “Aye Sir” the helmsman replied
Taking a quick look around to make sure his crew was ready, he turned back to wait for the signal the jump drive was ready.
At the signal, he ordered “Jump”
He felt the ship lurch forward and shudder. It took less than 5 seconds to jump from the station to within the targeted range, but it felt like forever.
And then they were less than 5 km from an enemy battleship.
“Oh shit!” exclaimed the helmsman and steered to avoid it. Captain Král hid a moment of panic with a joke, “ Someone make note that the jump drive targeting system needs work.”
His joke brought a chuckle from his crew and got them back to focus on the taste.
Stabbing a button on his console, he ordered “XO, fire secondary batteries,”
There was nothing to see or hear from the massive volleys of the secondary batteries coming to life. But he knew the gun crews were already raining devastation on enemy warships. “Helm, Hard to Port!” he ordered, not tearing his view away from the main viewscreen.
Captain Král looked at his console at the images sent to the bridge from the various gun cameras.
He could see the flashes of light from projectiles hitting their shields. He watched as other high-velocity projectiles punched through their hulls. He could just make out the impact of the explosive-tipped slugs fired by the autocannons.
Captain Král turned back to the main viewscreen. “Hard to starboard!”
“Head for that big son of a bitch!” he ordered
The Naalx were slow to respond but they began to return fire with some trying to gain some distance to clear the line of fire of other ships. The helmsman’s evasive maneuvers were also giving the enemy’s gunners fits from repeated misses.
But the damage sensors on the armor told of an increasing number of hits as the Naalx began to respond in an organized manner. The resistance coating reduced the damage from the Naalx laser batteries but didn’t completely nullify it. “Helm, get me a clear shot at the command ship.” the Captain ordered
A bright flash to starboard marked the death of an enemy cruiser. Status reports listed 2 sub-capitals holed and venting atmosphere. Dead or damaged, they were out of the fight.
One capital ship was dead in space with another missing its bow.
5 down too damn many to go The captain muttered
He watched and waited, ignoring damage alarms and the occasional shudder as shots began to get through the armor and explosively decompress a compartment when they penetrated the hull.
He finally saw what he wanted, an unobstructed line of fire to the command ship.
His finger smashed down on the console button. “ XO, Launch Torpedoes. Take the gloves off the main batteries. Drop the hammer!”
He watched the glitter of the particle beams as they bridged the gap between the Roanoke and the Naalx ship. In a moment, he caught sight of the torpedoes' thrusters as they left the tubes and picked up momentum. Holes and brief explosions marked the impact of his weapons. But the sheer volume of Naalxian fire was beginning to take its toll. The armor was failing or had failed in over a dozen spots. 3 autocannon and 1 railgun mount were out of commission.
2 minutes after they launched the torpedoes, the sight of more than 100 Hammerhead missiles was marked by the flare of their drives. Another volley of Hammerheads was launched the moment new missiles were lifted into the racks.
Captain Král called down to tactical, “XO, hold off on another volley for hammerheads.”
Checking his console, “Launch Shrikes at targets of opportunity with no shields, rear tubes target enemy capital ships and hope those torpedoes get through.” he ordered.
Multiple small explosions let him know the point defense systems were taking on the Hammerheads. And a moment later, a pair of massive explosions told him the nuclear-tipped torpedoes had hit their target.
“Captain, The Commodore’s squadron has escaped.” one of his techs announced.
“Thank you,” he answered
“Distance to command ship?” he asked
“ 250 km Sir” was the reply
“Helm, continue advancing on the command ship and pass her on our port side. We’ll give her a broadside and go to FTL after we clear.”
A tech from the damage control position spoke up, “Captain! FTL is down and jump drive is destroyed”
“Ahh hell’ cried the Captain.
“Damage report!” he ordered
“ Ventral turret destroyed, railgun mounts 2 and 5 destroyed, mount 9 damaged but functional. Autocannon mounts 11,13, 23 and 25 destroyed. Hammerhead launchers 3 and 8 destroyed.” The tech checked the screen before continuing, “ Explosive decompressions on decks 3 and 5. Explosive decompression in Med Bay. Ablative armor badly damaged and penetrated in around 20 spots. Engine #3 is down. Power unstable in many areas of the ship”
“FTL down, engineering needs an hour to fix. The jump drive is destroyed. Long-range comms are down” The tech finished.
“Casualty reports!” Captain Král ordered
A different tech replied, “249 dead, roughly 800 wounded with 327 too injured to fight.”
“Thank you.” he returned. Doing the math in his head he had just over 1300 combat effective and 482 of those were his Marines, the other 18 were left behind.
After thinking a moment, “Helm, same course as before but since we can’t go to FTL, circle to the aft of the command ship and lessen the incoming fire for the moment”
Looking over to the comms tech, “ Get me the chief engineer on the horn.”
Tapping the switch on the console, he called down to tactical. “ XO, I’m taking us around to the aft of the command ship and play peek-a-boo.”
“We’ll pass on her port side and I want a broadside from all batteries that can hit it and launch half the Shrikes we have left at it.”
“After we get to their rear, target enemy aft batteries, I want them all hunks of twisted metal.” Captain Král ordered
“Aye Sir.” Lt. Commander Ricci replied. “Ammo count update Sir.”
“Go ahead,” he replied
“Only the two forward tubes are loaded, aft tubes empty, railgun and autocannon are down to 30%. Dorsal turret is at 10% but they are working on transferring surviving ammo from the Ventral turret.
We can launch 4 more full racks of Shrikes and 5+ Hammerheads.” She finished
“Understood. Thank you” Captain Král replied
“Captain, Chief Engineer on the line” a tech relayed
“Route it to my console,” he ordered
“ I need you to place charges on the computer core, all the experimental equipment, engines, and fire suppression control. If we go down, I don’t want them getting a damn thing but blood and pain.”
“Aye Sir.” The Chief replied.

Captain Král turned back to watch as the Roanoke passed the command ship to port. He watched as massive explosions rippled across the enemy flank and dorsal surface. They were too close for the point defense to pick off the majority of the Shrikes.
As the Roanoke got behind and slightly below the enemy command ship, she slowed and allowed her surviving batteries to silence the command ship's aft batteries.
Captain Král called down to tactical, “XO, fire half our remaining hammerheads into her engines.”
“Affirmative,” replied the XO
Captain Král watched as the hammerheads impacted the command ship’s engines and saw the thrust nozzles dim as the engines went offline. The enemy batteries stopped firing and she began to drift.
“Helm, get us 500 km from the command ship and line up to fire our last 2 avalanche torpedoes.” Captain Král ordered
“Aye Sir, 500km bow towards the enemy” the helmsman repeated
The Captain called down to tactical ” Nana, We’re positioning the ship to line up the front tubes and we’re going to kill that bastard. Stay on the line and fire on my order.”
“Aye Sir, we’re ready.” The XO answered
“Helm?” Captain Král asked
“ 3 seconds Captain.” the helmsman replied
Captain Král watched and as soon as he got the angle he wanted, “Fire Torpedoes!” he commanded
The whole bridge crew watched and waited for the impact. Both torpedoes struck amidships and tore massive holes in the hull. As they watched, lines of explosions traveled across the hull and began to rip the ship in half. The bridge crew let out a yell and the rest of the ship after the Captain had the information broadcast over the intercom.

“ Helm, get us the hell out of here. Maybe we can outrun the bigger ships and buy time to fix the FTL.” Captain Král ordered
But before the helmsman could act, there was a massive jolt.
“What the hell?” he yelled
A tech answered, “ We were rammed by a Naalx cruiser and several smaller ships are closing in.“
But instead of ramming the Roanoke, they launched breeching pods.
His finger stabbed down to open the intercom. “ All hands, Prepare to Repel Boarders! Security teams, tactical will relay their access position. “ He ordered
He pulled out his sidearm and checked that it was ready. Several other techs did the same, while his security detachment moved to defensive positions to watch the hatch.
“Target those pods!” Captain Král ordered but he didn’t need to say it, his gunnery crews were on it. Here and there a brief flash of light marked the destruction of a pod.

“XO, fire all remaining missiles. Pick your targets,” he commanded “All batteries, open fire.”
He left the tac net open to track the status of the enemy boarding parties.
He listened to the cacophony of noises coming over the tac net.
“Security team alpha to section 7, level 3. Bravo team section 2 level 1, Charlie team section 12, level 5” Lt. Commander Ricci ordered.
“There’s too many, fall back to position 2…” an unidentified voice ordered
Another voice firmly stated, “Hold your ground, nothing gets past us.”
“Theta team down, a handful of Naalx heading for engineering!” a panicked voice exclaimed
And dozens of others just like it, always with the sound of combat in the background.
“Captain, more breaching pods en route!” a tech exclaimed
“Get me the Chief Engineer!” the Captain ordered
At the Chief Engineer’s response, he ordered “Detonate all sabotage charges except the main computer. Set that one on a manual trigger at my console with a 20-minute timer as a backup. And then set the reactors to overload, we’re not going to hold the ship much longer. And set a charge to breach the hull and decompress Engineering as soon as you are clear”
“Affirmative, Captain. She was a good ship” the Chief replied
Turning to his bridge crew, “Give the order to abandon ship. Have all the pods head for the station.”
The Captain called tactical, “Lt. Commander Ricci, all hands abandon ship. Get as many of them home as you can.”
“ I understand, Sir.” She answered, “I’ll see you at the station.” she said hopefully
“I'm afraid not, Nana. I’m the Captain and I’m going down with my ship.” he stated, “And someone needs to make sure they can’t shut down the overload.”
“Transfer all fire controls to my station and get the hell out of here.”
“Aye Sir, It’s been an honor” the XO replied
“The honor is all mine. You are going to make an excellent Captain. Goodbye my friend” Captain Král finished.
His bridge crew tried to convince him to go with them but he declined and ordered security to get them into the escape pods.
Then he sat and watched as his consoles began reporting each pod as it launched. He also kept an eye on his sensors and concentrated fire on any Naalx ship that was moving to intercept the pods. They knew better than to fire on them but nothing said they couldn’t capture them.
He also prepared a probe with all the ship logs and combat data and fired it toward human-held territory. It would run silently until it exited the system and then begin broadcasting a coded signal for pickup.
He was dismayed at how few pods had left the ship and regretted so many young lives had been cut short.
As he saw the last pod clear the battlefield, he sat back for a moment and then triggered the charge on the main computer.
A hard pounding came from the other side of the hatchway. But there wasn’t enough power to open it. He guessed the pinging on the door was them firing their lasers and trying to blast it open.
He wondered if it would work but a huge rumble, a bright flash, interrupted, and the long career of Captain Král was finally over.
News of the Roanoke’s final battle flashed across news channels on hundreds of worlds. Her courageous and foolhardy charge at a superior force. The damage she did to the Naalx fleet before her destruction. How, of the 1859 members of the crew that went into the battle, only 108 survived.
The videos taken from both sides during the battle played over and over again.
How the Naalx picked up all the escape pods and released them on the station immediately.
And even recovered the bodies of any human they found while gathering their dead.
Naalx losses were the command ship, 2 capital ships, 9 sub-capitals destroyed, and a dozen other vessels damaged in one form or another. Naalx casualties were over 50,000 dead
Only the Naalx’s immense respect for courage, audacity, and bravery in the face of danger kept the skirmish from blowing up into a war.
The Naalx rendered full military honors as they turned the Human dead over to Lt. Commander Ricci.
The Captain Král, A Grenville-class cruiser, was launched 2 years later. Captain Nana Ricci in command.
Authors note- I hope you enjoyed this story. It's based on a historical event. Which according to an idiot on youtube is plagiarism.
If you feel like leaving a tip https://ko-fi.com/tomcarey

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.

Seventh Tachyon is a new card with this effect
You can only activate 1 card with this card's name per turn. (1) Reveal 1 "Number" Xyz Monster that has a number between "101" and "107" in its name in your Extra Deck; add 1 monster whose Level equal the revealed monster's Rank, and has the same Type or Attribute as the revealed monster's, from your Deck to your hand, then place 1 card from your hand on top of your Deck. For the rest of this turn after this card resolves, you cannot Special Summon from the Extra Deck, except Xyz Monsters.
Reveal Silent Honor Ark

• LV 4 Water
• Lv 4 Aqua

Reveal Silent Honor Dark

• Level 5 Aqua
• Level 5 Water

Star Seraph Sentry

• Level 4 Light
• Level 4 Fairy

Archefiend Seraph

• Level 5 Fairy
• Level 5 Light

Raganazero

• Level 4 Fairy
• Level 4 Water

RaganaInfinity

• Level 5 Fairy
• Level 5 Water

Masquerade

• Level 4 Light
• Level 4 Spellcaster

Umbral Horror Masquerade

• Level 5 Dark
• Level 5 Spellcaster

Battlin Boxer' Star Cestaus

• Level 4 Fire
• Level 4 Warrior

Battlin' Boxer Comet Cestus

• Level 5 Fire
• Level 5 Warrior

Giant hand

• Level 4 Earth
• Level 4 Rock

Giant Red Hand

• Level 5 Rock
• Level 5 Earth

Galaxy-Eyes Tachyon Dragon

• Level 8 Dragon
• Level 8 Light

Neo Galaxy-Eyes Tachyon Dragon

• Level 9 Dragon
• Level 9 Light

This is mostly focusing on decks that either barely use the extra deck or focus on xyz summons but there is use as follow up for the next turn or deck that can summon on your opponent's turn. Along with their home themes which most of them beenfit greatly from here are some random archtypes I was thinking about
Umi: Doesn't need extra deck and most monsters are lv 4 water for Silent Honor
Dogmatika: Eccelsia(and alternate forms) can be searched with Masquerade or Star Seraph while Tachyon allows you to access Maximus and Fleur De Lis
Suship: Silent Honor Ark as the entire archetype if made out of level 4 aquas
Traptrix: Basically all level 4 earths
Madolche: Both Fairy and level 4 earth monsters which can be searched
Exosisters: Masquerade can search the entire monster line up and already locks thems into xyz summons
Faiy Tail: All level 4 light spellcaster monsters
Vaalmonica: Both pendulums
VS: Lacks a traditonal search spell and has a level 4 dark/earth/fire along with the reveal effects for the monsters needing specific attributes
Stun: Raganzero gets two barrier statute monsters and giant hand Dyna with Inspector Boarder via Star Seraph

First / Previous / Royal Road / Patreon (Read 12 Chapters Ahead)

Alain kicked in the door to the gun store, and they all flooded in. There was nobody there, as expected, so that gave them free reign to take whatever they needed. Alain immediately stocked up on ammo for his revolver and shotgun, slotting cartridges into the spaces on his bandoleer and belt. All the other men did the same, and a few of them grabbed an extra gun as well.
"Everyone good?" Alain called. They all answered back in the affirmative, and he motioned for them to follow after him as he sprinted back outside.
The remaining undead had taken notice of them now, and were closing in once more. Their group opened fire as Sable and Az rushed forwards.
"Watch your fire!" Alain warned as rounds passed dangerously close to the two of them.
"What the hell are they doing?!" Rusty called.
"They're clearing a path for us!" Alain shouted back. "Come on, we need to-"
A pair of sickening gurgles from behind him caught his attention. Immediately, Alain turned around, and saw the two sheriff's deputies standing there, their hands thrust through the backs and out the chests of Jack and Redd. Rusty raised his rifle to try and engage, but he didn't get a chance to fire before one of the deputies drew his own revolver and put a round between his eyes. Alain could only watch in shock as he fell backwards, dead.
The two deputies pulled their arms out of their unfortunate victims, then shook them to get some of the blood off as they advanced on Alain and Felix. Both men took a step back as they shouldered their long guns.
"Deputies Timms and Brayton," Felix surmised, looking at each man in turn. "You know, I almost didn't want to believe it when Alain first told me you were involved with all of this. The sheriff put you up to it?"
Timms ran a hand through his beard, uncaring of how the blood and gore from his victim left a trail of slick red through it. "He told us what we stood to gain if we helped him. After learning about that, how could we refuse?"
"And what would that be?" Alain growled.
Brayton grinned, showing off yellow teeth as he twirled his revolver almost absentmindedly. "What do you think would coerce someone to sacrifice other people?"
"I don't know."
"Ah, well… it doesn't matter; you'll all be dead soon, anyway."
"So confident of that, are you?"
"I'm confident enough, we'll say." Brayton turned to Timms. "You take the bartender, I'll handle the drifter."
Timms nodded, and then before Alain knew what was happening, Brayton had rushed towards him. He just barely managed to avoid the incoming arm thrust, the deputy's fingers brushing against his shirt, tearing through the fabric with ease. Alain fell back, discharging his shotgun as he went; the load of buckshot struck Brayton in the chest, opening it enough to expose his blackened heart, and he stumbled back, but recovered quickly.
Brayton let out a low growl, then drew his revolver and began firing off shots. Alain was forced to dive for cover behind a nearby building to avoid the incoming shots. Just as he reached concealment, however, a series of moans from nearby caught his attention. He turned and found several undead moving towards him. Without missing a beat, Alain fired off the remaining shell in his shotgun, taking one out, and then held it in one hand as he drew his revolver and killed the other two with a series of well-placed shots.
Alain wasted no time in reloading his guns once the trio of undead had hit the ground. He broke his shotgun open and ripped the spent shells out, then shoved two fresh ones in and closed the weapon. Before he could cock the hammers back, however, the building behind him erupted in a shower of splinters, and Brayton came marching through.
"I must say, you're not making this easy," Brayton told him.
"I thought you would've learned that by now," Alain replied as he cocked the hammers back on his shotgun. "After all, I did plenty of damage to you two back in the jailhouse earlier."
"A shame it didn't last."
"This will."
Alain shouldered his weapon and fired both barrels in the same motion. To his dismay, Brayton was able to duck back into the destroyed building at the last minute, avoiding most of the buckshot; a few pellets lodged in his throat and face, but it wasn't nearly enough to kill him for good.
It did succeed in getting under his skin, though. Brayton stepped out of the building, a scowl etched across his face. Without missing a beat, he advanced on Alain's position, drawing his revolver and firing it as he went. Several shots rang out, and Alain felt a sudden, searing pain in his left shoulder; he turned and saw a bloody patch on his shirt that was growing more intense with every passing second. He only stared for a second though, then turned and began to run, desperate to put some distance between himself and Brayton.
"There's no point in hiding," Brayton answered as Alain ducked back into Felix's bar, stepping over a small mountain of undead corpses in the process. "I'll find you eventually."
Alain sat down behind the bar, then tore open his shirt to get a better look at the wound. Brayton's round had apparently nicked his artery; it wasn't spurting blood, but it was bleeding heavily. Alain didn't waste any time, instead tearing his cartridge belt off his waist and cinching it tight just above the wound as a makeshift tourniquet. He then forced himself back onto his feet, and with shaking hands, reloaded his shotgun as he looked around.
The undead horde seemed to have been thinned out substantially in this part of town. That led him to believe that Az and Sable had instead moved on to another part of town, most likely closer to the mines, and were working on clearing a path for the rest of them. That meant they'd be of no help to him anytime soon – they were almost certainly too busy fighting the undead to realize him and Felix needed help.
So the two of them were on their own. Alain grimaced as the thought crossed his mind.
He needed to take care of Brayton and Timms, and fast.
Alain vaulted over the bar, wincing when he felt the movement disturb the bullet in his shoulder slightly.
"Not doing anything like that again any time soon…" he muttered as he propped himself up against a wall next to the opening where the door had once stood, then peered out into town.
From here, he couldn't see either of the deputies, but he could still hear sporadic gunfire throughout town, along with the moans of the living corpses that were still walking around. Cautiously, Alain stepped out from behind cover, his shotgun already readied against his good shoulder. He looked around once more, trying to see where either of the deputies or Felix had ended up.
The click of a revolver's hammer being thumbed back struck his ears, and Alain hit the dirt just in time for the bullet to scrape across the top of his head, taking a few of his hairs with it.
There was little time to dwell on that, however, as another round came from out of the darkness soon after that one. Alain rolled to avoid it, and just barely managed to get out of the way in time for it to embed itself into the ground next to him. Dirt, pebbles, and bits of spall impacted against his back, but once again, he managed to avoid serious injury. A vein pulsed in his forehead, and Alain forced himself to stand up before firing off two shotgun blasts towards where he thought the shots came from. He was rewarded with the sound of buckshot impacting against flesh, and knew he'd hit his target.
Before Brayton could have time to recover, Alain slung his shotgun and drew his revolver, then advanced upon his position. Sure enough, Brayton was busy pulling himself up off the ground; Alain emptied his revolver's cylinder into the deputy's head. Blood, bone, and bits of brain arced through the air, staining the ground and the nearby wall with a macabre mixture of crimson, white, and gray. By the end of it, the deputy's head had been sheared almost in half, with the remnants of his brain exposed to the outside world.
Alain stood there, wisps of smoke curling up from the end of his revolver's barrel. That should have been it for Brayton – no mortal would have been able to survive something like that.
Unfortunately, Brayton was no mere mortal. He let out a shuddering breath, then began to lurch forward. His movements were sluggish and slow, and there was a dull expression of pain on his face, but he was still alive. Alain paused at the sight of it, his eyes wide with surprise.
"Oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me."
That was all he managed to get out before Brayton raised his revolver once again. Alain dove for cover; the bullet scraped across his lower back, just a few inches away from his spine. He scrambled to his feet, and only once he was back up did he realize that in the confusion, he'd dropped his revolver.
Alain went to reload his shotgun, but found that he was once again out of shells. He let out a muffled curse, then looked around for something he could use. Sable had told him that there were three ways to kill wights – removing the head, destroying the brain, and…
Alain's gaze landed on a nearby lantern hanging from an abandoned shop, swinging precariously from a rope. Even from here, he could see oil sloshing around inside it. A manic grin crossed his face, and he immediately made a mad dash for it. He got lucky – the deputy was caught in the middle of a reload, and was unable to shoot him. Alain ripped the lantern off the building, then hurled it at Brayton; it shattered on impact, coating him with oil. Once that was done, Alain reached into his pocket and retrieved a match.
"Mom always said those cigarettes couldn't be good for me," he said to himself as he struck the match against the building, lighting it. He turned toward the deputy, still coated in oil, and his eyes narrowed.
"I wonder what she'd say if she could see this."
He flicked the lit match towards Brayton, watching as it soared through the air. The flame made impact with the oil-slick deputy, and he caught alight immediately. An inhuman screech erupted from Brayton's throat, loud enough that Alain winced and had to cover both his ears. Brayton fell to the ground, his revolver dropping against the dirt and discharging harmlessly into the air as he rolled to try and put out the fire, but it was no use. In a matter of seconds, his movements stopped completely, his body reduced to little more than a charred corpse.
That wasn't enough for Alain. He sprinted over to where his Colt had fallen, retrieved it, and emptied the cylinder into what was left of Brayton's head, just for good measure. The body didn't even twitch as the rounds made impact, and by the end of it, his head had been reduced to little more than a jawbone still attached to the neck. Alain stood there for a moment, panting from exertion, before letting his arm fall.
Footsteps took him by surprise, and he rounded on them, only to relax when he saw that it was Felix, and he was apparently completely unharmed. The two exchanged a glance, and Felix's eyes widened.
"Shit…" he breathed. "What happened to you? You're covered in blood."
"I killed Brayton."
"Yes, I can see that. But did you have to put yourself through a meat grinder to do it?"
"Is Timms dead?" Alain asked.
"Yeah, he's done."
"How'd it happen?"
"I shot him in the head a bunch with my rifle. Why didn't you just do that to Brayton?"
Alain just scowled. Before he could reply, there were more footsteps – they both looked over and saw Sable and Az approaching. Both of them seemed a lot worse for wear, sporting more grievous injuries than they had before. Still, as Sable approached, her eyes widened when she saw Alain lying there.
"What happened to him?" she asked.
"Got shot," he grunted. "Hey, you needed blood, right?"
"Well, yes, but-"
Alain didn't wait to hear anything else, instead loosening his tourniquet. The blood began to flow once more, and he motioned towards his shoulder.
"Help yourself for a bit."
Sable went red in the face, but her shame didn't stop her. She immediately moved over to him, then latched onto the wound on his shoulder and began to drink. Alain winced when he felt her teeth lock into him and her tongue begin to lap up his blood, but he didn't stop her.
"I'm gonna be sick…" Felix said, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth as he watched the display in front of him.
Thankfully, Sable pulled herself away shortly after latching onto him. Alain turned towards her, and was surprised to see that many of her wounds were healed, though not all of them. Before he could inquire further about that, Sable began tearing strips off her gore-soaked dress, taking care to search for the few clean parts only, then wrapped his wound with them.
"You need a doctor," she declared. "But for now, that'll have to do. You can sit this one out if-"
"Stop," Alain managed to get out. "I'm not missing this. Help me up."
"Alain-"
"I said, help me up."
Sable hesitated, but ultimately obliged, pulling him to his feet. Alain stumbled a bit, lightheaded from pain and blood loss, but managed to maintain his footing. He slung his shotgun and reloaded his revolver, then turned back to the rest of them.
"Alright," he said. "To the mines."

Special thanks to my good friend and co-writer, Ickbard for the help with writing this story.

Hi there, looking for some insight. Might not act on any of it but interested to hear from others who have maybe gone thru similar situations. It's pretty long, a little confusing but if u stick around that'd be great.
A few months back my friend group broke up. I think I was the only one who 'officially' broke up but I was kind of the glue that held it together in a lot of ways. For context were an all girl group that were childhood friends (now we are in are early 20s 23-24 f). I wanted to provide more context but I'm worried it will get too specific, so if someone wants more context I'll answer in the replies. Last summer I started distancing myself from 2 of the girls in the group (Let's call them A & B). Although they were once like sisters, I started seeing more of the actions they were doing and didn't agree with them so I started slowly distancing myself so I could have time to think. Some examples of things they were doing was purposefully excluding the other 2 girls in the group (C & D), B especially kept making super back handed comments about one of the other girls (girl D, who was honestly my day 1 we went wayyy back and she's the sweetest most giving, kind, respectful person), A & B would make really condescending remarks to the rest of us regarding our goals, schooling, relationships etc. etc etc..... the list goes on. And honestly I had to come to terms with the fact that I was contributing to this by not properly standing up for C & D when I was with A&B and they were saying shady shit.. I would make remarks like 'lets invite C & D' and I wouldn't ever contribute to the stuff they were saying BUT looking back, the fact that I wasn't clearly putting a stop to it and calling them out.... I was part of the problem. THIS is one of the reasons I started distancing myself because I realized I wasnt being the woman I wanted to be, I was acting on some childish BS and I loved/respected C & D wayyyy too much to contribute to that stuff.
Anyways, fast forward a bit and I was talking with D about what was going on, and I opened up to her and apologized for everything. She also shared how she had been feeling about A & B for a long time but didn't want to say anything. So we had a really good, important long talk about our friendship and it was really healthy. After that conversation I realized wow I cannot continue to associate with A & B because clearly they're making my OG Best friend (who has been by my side forever) feel like garbage.
So fast forward a few months and I haven't really been talking at all to A & B. The 'distancing' worked because I was always the main person suggesting to hangout and checking in with everyone about what's new, how've you been, etc. and so once i stopped putting in the effort it quickly started fizzling. They hmu maybe 2 or 3 times over a few months but I was also INCREDIBLY busy finishing my uni degree & had 2 jobs, so I had valid excuses that helped me politely decline the invites.
FAST FORWARD ANOTHER FEW MONTHS I finally get to meet with friend C. She was also very busy and it was tougher to plan meet ups but we met up for coffee, and low and behold A & B have been talking shit about me behind my back. We shared what's been happening, because similar to with D I apologized for not checking in more, and for not being a good friend or sticking up for her and C more etc etc. AGAIn it was a very cathartic, loving, healthy conversation where we both got a lot of clarity. She similarly shared BS about how she had been feeling, and also about shit that went down between her and A&B before....we spent a few hours connecting the dots about stories/stretched truths A&B had been telling both of us about each other. So it was honestly much needed. Since then me, c & D have all gotten together and had a wonderful time together because there was no weird vibes of shady competitive side-eyeing behavior. Just love.
ANYWAYS some more stuff came to light, time moved on, the holidays passed. And I decided I was gonna remove A&B from my socials. I found out they (before my hangout with C) had been telling C all these lies about me, and making it seem like I was suicdl, like my relationship was falling apart, like I was depressed etc. and so they were telling C to 'let them know if she got any info' ON ME?! like they wanted the tea about my life?? When meanwhile I'm over here perfectly content, just very busy on the grind, but overall very happy and healthy. And instead of them being 'friends' and hmu to ask how I'm doing, they were just lying to C making it seem as if they'd been trying to contact me and I was 'going through it' or something? So I removed them from my socials, I never confronted them. Which looking back now that it's been almost half a year, I wish I did confront them properly and just lay it all out there. But i was too concerned about 'making it a thing's because C & D are also very non-confrontational that I was worried if I told A & B about why I'm not interested in being their friends anymore that they might drag C & D in and make their lives more stressful.
After i removed them (I didn't block them, I didn't delete their numbers, I just didn't want them seeing me post photos of my life on Instagram because I thought they don't deserve to 'spy' on me).
B never hit me up, but C called me almost immediately after i removed B from my socials saying that B texted her asking why I removed her... At which point C told her to just ask me herself? Because why TF would she do that - especially because she framed it from a POV of 'Is she okay? Is something happening with her' so likeeee girl if u really gaf why wouldn't u just ask me urself? Friend A hmu that evening with this big text message just essentially gaslighting me saying that I owed her an explanation and that I owed her communication etc. I can see her point now TO AN EXTENT however if she was sitting back thinking I'm depressed and wanting to self harm and that's why I haven't been communicating, you would think her reaction would be to check in and ask what's happening instead of immediately becoming defensive. I kept the reply short and tried to be as 'kind' as I had the capacity for. Let her know I appreciated the time together but that the relationship wasn't what I needed anymore to be the best version of myself. She never answered again.
This was very long - but idk I've had some dreams where friend A was in them and we reconciled and so when I wake up it brings back old emotions/memories. The real issues were mostly centered around B being rude and toxic and unaware of how her actions were impacting people. Whereas A was just a long for the ride. HOWEVER I've talked w my mom even about this, and she pointed out the A hadn't been there for me the way I was for her. I dropped everything when she was going thru rough times, would drive to her house whenever she needed me, supported her through rlly dark times. Whereas when shit hit the fan for me when we were young she was there, but once we were adults, she became really condescending and self absorbed. I think maybe I'm still holding on to the young version of our friendship and those good times?
I've been thinking about reaching out to A to apologize for how I left things and let her know if she wants to talk about it we can. I realize from her POV the hard stop/cold shoulder was probably rough, But I'm also conflicted because of the shitty things she had done to me, and I was operating with all the capacity I could at the time while trying to protect my peace as much as possible (my friendship with A wasn't as long as with D, however it was still about a decade long). I've definitely grown a lot, I'm sure she has too, but idk.... She's probably gotten wayyy closer with B since the friend group fell apart, and given her response when I unfollowed heremoved her from my IG following, I feel like it might go badly?.... Should I hit up A and open the door for possible to communication? Or should i just work to heal and move on from the friendship breakup?... Part of me misses times with B however there was so much pain & toxicity I could never go back into that, especially because of how she treated C & D, whereas A was more just there letting it all happen and going along with it.
If u stuck around thru the confusion of reading this and can share any thoughts/insight that'd be great. Thank you!

The scene faded back in to a shot of the team and host in the prison courtyard, the two groups of teens each standing by a dirty laundry cart. "Elimination challenge!" Chris exclaimed happily. "Here we go! No 'Get Out of Jail Free' cards here, people! This, is 'Escape from Total Drama Pen.'!" The camera quick-panned away from Chris' close-up to one of the carts.
"Each team must hop in their laundry carts, while one member pushes through the obstacle course to freedom!" As he spoke, the scene flashed to a shot of wooden dummies dressed like prison guards with automatic swinging arms, and then again to a pair of narrow platforms over a water pool with large sandbags swinging back and forth between them, and once more to the prisoner dummies with various sharp objects attached to their hands.
"When you reach the wall," Chris continued as the camera moved back to the group shot, "get diggin'! First team to reach the boxcar to freedom wins immunity!" The shot quick-panned over to a pair of boxcars sitting on a small section of rail tracks. "Convicts, select a pusher!"
"I'll do it!" Chase and Sky volunteered simultaneously, and the two quickly turned their heads to each other.
"I'll be the one to push for us!" Jasmine declared to the Grips. "Does anybody have a problem with that?" she asked her team, who were already starting to climb into the cart.
"I don't," Millie said as she got on.
"You are our best option," Anne Maria added as she hopped onto the cart.
Jasmine smiled. "Excellent!"
Confessional: Jasmine
“When you have long legs, speed can come off as an attribute,” Jasmine confessed.
Confessional Ends
"Not to be a jerk or anything," Chase said as the focus moved back to the Gaffers, "but I want to be the one who pushes, not you."
"Only one of us can do it, and it should be me," Sky offered.
"I know we won the shovel, but the Grips have Jasmine pushing for them," Chase argued, “and if we want to beat them, we'll need a lot of speed coming from me.”
"You're not the only one who's been on a track team," Sky protested. “I practice track at my school in order to prep myself for the Olympics.”
"I have longer legs than you," Chase pointed out, "and that'll at least make us on par with the other team."
“This bickering is not helping us,” Sky groaned and turned to her team. "So team, who do you want to drive the cart? Me or Chase?"
"I say Chase," Ripper said first. “Sky's not Sonic fast.”
"Well I think Sky should push us," Scott declared. “Chase being on the track team is more of a hobby to him.”
"To break the tie, I'll go with Sky," MK said. "She is the team's leader."
Chase sighed. "Alright!" He walked towards the cart. "But if we don't win, it's not coming back to me."
Confessional: Sky
“Me and MK don't know each other well, and she is generally not cordial, but I do have to thank her for having my back in the situation,” Sky explained.
Confessional: MK
“The way I see it, if Sky loses the cart challenge for us, me and Scott can use that as a reason to pick her off,” MK told the audience. “With her and Trent's love plot coming to a halt, there's no need to keep her in the game any longer.”
Confessionals End
"This is it, teams," Chris announced as the two groups were shown in their starting positions – most of the teams in their carts, with Jasmine and Sky ready to push. "On your marks...," the host said as a few deep notes began the fast-paced music that would play during the challenge, "get set...escape!"
The two started pushing immediately, and Jasmine managed to get an early lead for the Grips. However, Sky was gaining momentum, and the two kicked up a cloud of dust behind them as they entered the first obstacle – the sharp-handed prisoner dummies. The camera watched from above as they weaved around and through the field in different directions, and at one point it looked like their paths were going to intersect. The two girls briefly locked eyes and steeled themselves as their carts bounced off each other, rattling their teammates inside.
The viewpoint shifted to show the start of the next obstacle – the narrow platforms over water, with large bags already swinging back and forth threateningly. Sky pushed her team up onto the platform, and the focus moved ahead to Jasmine doing the same as well. The people in the carts ducked down to get away from the swinging bags. However, Anne Maria's big hair stuck up enough for one of the bags to brush past it, which slowed it down enough that Jasmine ran face-first into it while she had been distracted looking back at the other team. It knocked her down and caused her to let go of the cart, which managed to keep rolling along without her.
"We can use this to our advantage!" Ripper barked. "Keep it steady and we can catch up!"
"I got it!" Sky picked up her pace. She managed to get them past Jasmine and another two bags and they caught up to the Grips' cart, which had stopped at the end of the second obstacle. The viewpoint shifted to show them watching in shock as the Gaffers approached unsteadily, with Jasmine running just inches behind them.
Just as Sky was getting the groove of pushing the cart, a bag hit her in the head, which caused her to lose her balance and the front left wheel of the Gaffers' cart to leave the platform as it rapidly approached the end of the second obstacle, and the camera zoomed in as it dipped down and hit the corner where the narrow platform ended, causing the cart to spill forward.
"Hurry up!" Anne Maria commanded as Jasmine retook control over the Grips’ cart and sped forward, past the pile of Gaffers and into the final obstacle.
The camera followed them as they weaved through the guard-dummies, becoming more and more excited as they neared the wall. "Alright," Jasmine said. "We're getting closer to victory!"
A second passed in silence as they kept going at the same speed. "Uhh, Jasmine?" Justin said nervously as he eyed the approaching wall.
"We can stop now!" Millie notified.
Their words caused her to skid to a stop just in front of the wall. "Thanks for the warning," Jasmine said as her teammates breathed a sigh of relief.
"We may not have a shovel," Brick told his team with a spoon in hand, "but we must make do with what we have."
“Go go!" Jasmine eagerly ordered everyone out the cart. “Hop to it like kangaroos!” They all ran over to the large 'X' and started digging.
"Well this is just great!" Ripper complained as he, MK, Chase, and Scott picked themselves up off the ground, and Sky turned their cart back upright. "We're behind the Grips!"
“This is why I should've been the driver,” Chase spoke out. “I would have been able to avoid those bags.”
"None of this is our fault," Sky said. "We can still catch up to the Grips if we don't start arguing with each other."
The footage flashed ahead, showing the Gaffers sitting in the laundry cart with Sky pushing them through the final obstacle. Moments later they arrived at the wall, a hole and sizable dirt pile already by their opponent's cart. The four Gaffers hopped out, and Sky took the shovel out of her pocket.
"Jump right to it, team," Sky ordered. "We have a lot to dig!"
The camera flashed to Chris and Chef at the finish line, Chris sitting on the entrance of a boxcar while Chef leaned against it. "So..." Chris asked. "You ever seen that prison flick? The one with the guy in it? You know? The guy with that face?" Chef rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"So are you doing anything after work?" the host asked awkwardly. "We could always rent a-" He noticed the look on the cook's face and amended, "or not. I was... busy... anyway. Very busy. I'm just… throwing it out there."
The scene changed to a side view of the Grips in their tunnel, Jasmine hastily digging in front with her spoon.
"We're making good progress so far," Jasmine said. "Even if we're stuck with spoons."
"I can hear them ahead of us now," Millie said. "Wouldn't it be faster if we helped dig too?"
"Ten hands are better than two," Jasmine agreed.
Confessional: Jasmine
“After losing two challenges in a row, the Grips really need to bounce back this time,” Jasmine stated. “I've watched enough prison movie like “Holes” and “The Shawshank Redemption” to understand which spots are easier to dig out first.”
Confessional Ends
Another flash took the scene back to the Gaffers, Ripper being the one using the shovel to dig in the front.
"I'm not lying when I say that we're going to win," Ripper said as he kept digging.
"The Grips may have gotten here before us, but they have spoons and we have a shovel," Chase added.
“And it's all thanks to me!” MK cheered before catching sight of Scott's glare. “And Scott as well.”
Confessional: MK
“Right. Forgot the basic concept of teamwork,” MK sheepishly confessed. “Usually I always fly solo in everything I do, except group projects, and most of the time, I have to do everything because my supposed group members are uncooperative.”
Confessional Ends
The Gaffers heard a sudden rumble, causing them to stop in their tracks. A hand burst out of the dirt, creating a hole that increases thanks to a familiar head sticking their head out.
“Izzy?!” the team cries out at the sight of her. The psycho hose beast had fake buck teeth in her mouth and a camo hat with sticks sticking out on top, and she chittered in response.
“Yep. That's her,” Chase confirmed.
“Yeah, I've been living underground amongst the prairie dogs,” Izzy explained as one of the prairie dogs popped up and angrily chittered at the team.
“Aw, Butchie, it's okay,” Izzy assured the creature. “These are my friends.”
“Are you here to help us or…” Scott started to ask.
“Of course! Follow me, I know a shortcut to the finish line!” Izzy said.
“A shortcut?” Sky felt uneasy.
“Of course,” Ripper scoffed. “Why spend hours digging when you can finish faster?”
Confessional: Sky
"I'm not the type to cheat whenever I'm in a competition, and taking shortcuts is the easy way out," Sky explained in the confessional trailer, "but I don't really have a choice here."
Confessional Ends
“And of course, I became the second in command prairie dog,” Izzy told her team a story as they moved through the shortcut, “which meant I shared all the prairie dog council meetings and oh, oh! Here we are!”
“Finally! I need to get out of this hole!” Chase said and crawled faster.
The viewpoint moved to the surface as rock got pushed out of the way and Chase emerged from beneath. "You've got to be kidding," he muttered in annoyance.
The camera moved again, showing that the Grips’ tunnel had come up in front of the boxcars. All members of the Killer Grips were celebrating in front, while Chris and Chef watched.
"We lost?" Izzy said as she emerged from her hole.
"Yes, we did," Chase told her as he and the other Gaffers got out of the hole. "And aren't you out of the game? We did vote you off."
“Uh-uh. You voted off Kaleidoscope,” Izzy rebutted.
A flash took the scene back to the third episode's elimination with Izzy, Ripper, and Chase in the bottom three. “Izzy! Time to go!” Chris announced.
“I'm not going anywhere,” Izzy objected. “That's not my name.”
“Can I get a pen over here?” Chris raised his hand in annoyance. A pen was given to him, and he started to write on the paper. “It says "E-Scope" now, okay?!”
Izzy stubbornly stayed in her seat, and Chris looked over to his side. “Yo guys. Want to make sure we keep this ballot in the files as an official record of Kaleidoscope's departure?” he asked as he continued to scribble. “I'll notarize it. Foresight. That's why they pay me the big bucks.”
The flashback ended and the focus returned to the Gaffers. “So technically, Izzy's still in the game!” Sky realized.
Confessional: MK
“I didn't expect this to happen, but I'll allow it if it means I get an extra vote for tonight's elimination ceremony,” MK said.
Confessional Ends
A flash took the scene to the craft services tent, the camera lingering on an outside shot before cutting to Chef at the counter while the Grips ate at their table in the foreground.
“It's such a relief to have finally won a challenge after losing the past two ones,” Brick started to say.
“Well, this is an effect of Trent not being around to lose for us,” Justin said. “We made the right decision voting him off last time.”
“Even with the other team getting Izzy back, they're still going to lose a member,” Anne Maria remarked. “It's sorta a win-win for us.”
The footage skipped ahead, showing Ripper and Scott sitting around in their trailer before MK joined them.
"Okay, look," MK said as she addressed the two boys, "we have to vote Sky off tonight. She's helpful, sure, but she'd be hard to beat if the teams merge."
"I second that," Scott nodded. "She also slowed us down in the cart portion of the challenge."
"I told you guys that Chase should've pushed for us, but you didn't listen," Ripper huffed.
“I convinced Izzy to help us with the vote, and Chase won't be necessary since he and Sky have some sort of friendship with each other,” MK said.
"As long as we have the majority, we're all set to go," Scott said with a wink.
The theme of the Gilded Chris ceremony began to play, accompanied by the standard introduction sequence. It faded into a long-distance shot of the award stage, the camera zooming in as the theme came to an end. The six Gaffers cast their votes, the camera panning down from Chase and MK in the top row, to Izzy and Scott in the middle, and Ripper and Sky at the bottom.
"Time's up!" Chris announced excitedly. "I'll tally the votes!" He held up a device similar to the voting pads, and began to read off names. "Chase, Scott, Izzy, and MK." Each name was accompanied by the sound of an award getting thrown and caught and the four were shown holding their latest prizes. "Another award, and another day to compete."
The host held up the final award. "Tonight's final Gilded Chris and another chance at the million goes to…" he said as Ripper and Sky were shown watching nervously, "...Ripper!"
The aforementioned contestant caught his prize as Sky felt disappointed with the results.
Confessional: Sky
“I didn't want to vote for Chase and Izzy and MK and Scott helped out with the challenge, even if they're unsportsmanlike,” Sky explained. “I talked to Chase and Izzy about voting for Ripper since he didn't do much today, but I guess Izzy chose to vote off someone else.”
Confessional: Ripper
“Voting for Sky didn't hurt one bit,” Ripper confessed. “Like MK said, she's really athletic and could easily win the season if we chose to eliminate somebody else tonight.”
Confessional: Izzy
“Even though I was told to vote off specific people, I decided to go with voting MK,” Izzy admitted. “I still remember how she acted during last season's dodgeball challenge.”
Confessionals End
The footage flashed forward, showing Sky on the red carpet getting handcuffed by Chef.
"Dead girl walking!" Chef called out before escorting the eliminated contestant.
"Hold on!" the voice of MK cried out as she ran up to the two. “Leave her and take me!”
“Sure. Whatever,” Chef took the handcuffs off Sky and offered them to MK.
“I was kidding!” MK pushed the cuffs away from her. “Like I'd willingly quit the game. I'm just here to see the loser off.” She looked at the slightly taller girl teasingly. “I'm sure you'll be happily reunited with Trent the Challenge Thrower.”
"As long as I'm not on a team with someone as underhanded as you," Sky retorted as she grabbed the handcuffs and walked past the now miffed girl, "I'll be happy anywhere."
The Gilded Chris theme began to play as Chris turned to the camera. "Folks are getting feisty!" he said. "The Gaffers just lost their best player and team leader this early in the game, and with her out of the way, how low will this team sink just to win? Tune in next week to find out on Total! Drama! Action!"
(Roll the Credits)
(Bonus Clip)
Sky was sitting in the back of the Lame-o-sine as she looked at the window. "You know what’s ironic?" she started. "Trent outlasted me last season by one episode, and now the same thing occurred, only with the roles reversed." She turned her head to look at the camera. "I wish I could've stayed on the show longer and prove that I'm more than Trent's athletic girlfriend, but I'm pretty sure the fans know that I have a distinct personality."
"If there's one thing I can say about my performance, it's that I didn't do anything questionable or controversial that could be used against me in the future or vilify me." She paused for a moment and blinked. "What do you mean Aftermath?"
Eva - 14th
Geoff - 14th
Izzy - RETURNED
Trent - 12th
Sky - 11th
Killer Grips: Anne Maria, Brick, Jasmine, Justin, Millie
Screaming Gaffers: Chase, Izzy, MK, Ripper, Scott