One of my favorite things about the show is how the story will take unexpected twists and turns. The are many episodes for me that start off slow and somewhat cliché and then end up being way better than I had anticipated. One episode I saw recently like this was "The Legend of Black Jake." What were some for you?

Light reflected off the scales, reflecting a shimmer of rainbow colours. Even the sand that clung to the scales couldn’t dim the intricate swirl of light that the sunlight revealed on the black scales.
Water was spilled over the scales, washing away the sand to reveal the colours more clearly. There was no movement from the tail, nor the rest of the body.
“What is it?” He whispered.
“Some kind of fish.” His friend whispered back.
“It’s got a face.”
“Everything has a face.”
He gave his friend a look and lifted the seaweed from the head of the creature. “Does this look like a normal fish face to you?”
“I never said it looked normal.”
“It’s got arms.”
“So… it’s an otter. Otter fish… Fish otter…”
Laughter exploded from the two boys. They fell back in the sand, distracted for a moment from the thing that had washed up on the shore. The mix of animal was just too funny for them to ignore.
“A otter fish. What is wrong with you?”
“So many things.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Well, if you’re so smart, you tell me what it is then.”
They leaned back over the thing, studying its form. Scales ran from the end of the tail to the upper torso. There were two limbs from the top of the torso, but they didn’t reach very far. And a head.
It looked too close to a human shaped head for them to be comfortable, but the face was flat and grey, like the skin that wasn’t covered by the scales. No nose that they could really see, and seaweed was the only covering where hair was supposed to grow.
“Hey, open its mouth.”
“Excuse me?”
“Open its mouth. I wanna see if it has teeth.”
“You open it then!”
“I’m not touching that.”
“And you think I will?”
“You’re a lot braver than I am. You touch weird stuff all the time.”
“How about no one touches the weird thing’s mouth?”
The new voice startled them. They straightened, looking up and down the empty beach. It was still totally empty. And it would be for a few more months until the icy fingers of the wind were warmed by summer’s return.
“Down here.”
The eyes were black pools, no iris or pupil to be seen. They stared down at the creature, and the creature stared up at them. There was a scurry of movement from both the boys and the creature as they rushed away from each other.
It was ungainly on the shore and the boys reached the dunes before the creature was halfway to the water. They crouched in the sand, watching the creature struggle. Its arms didn’t extend fully, and it had to drag itself bit by bit across the sand.
“Should we go and help it?”
“Did you hear it talking?”
“I mean… Yeah. That was the… thing, right?”
“I can’t talk in a voice that low. Can you?”
The boy shook his head in response.
“And it’s moving. Really… really slowly. Do you think it needs help?”
They turned to look at the creature, still dragging itself across the sand in agonisingly slow progress. Together, they made their way back down the beach, hands grasping at each other’s clothing.
“Do you need help?” They called out.
The creature stopped and twisted to look at them with the black pools that served as its eyes.
“We could see how slowly you were moving.” One of the boys said haltingly.
It turned back to its slow path to the waves, dragging itself forward again. Now that they were close, they could see that the arms were partially fused to the torso, stopping them from extending all the way.
The forearms were the only part that could move unencumbered. A trail was being carved in the sand by the creature’s tail, a clear marker of where it had been.
“Are you sure you don’t want help?”
Much like a wolf or dog on land, the creature’s lips curled back from its teeth, baring a row of sharp teeth. The boys scrambled back, struggling to stay upright in the sand.
“We don’t want to hurt you.” The braver boy snapped.
“How can I trust that?” The creature hissed, voice like a rumble of thunder.
There was a moment of hesitation before the second boy spoke up. “If we were going to hurt you, we would have done it while you were unconscious.”
“Some monsters like to hear the screams.”
He stepped closer and crouched down. “Please let us help you.”
“If you must.”
The skin was cold and clammy, like chicken that had gone slimy with age. The boys shuddered as they touched it, grasping the creature’s fused upper arms. There was so much weight.
They staggered through the sand, chasing the leaving tide. Wet sand grasped at their boots and water had begun to seep into their socks when they finally laid the creature back down on the sand.
Little rippling waves caressed her webbed fingers and she pulled herself eagerly forward, hissing as the water surrounded her. The boys scrambled back from the water, remembering tales of sharks in shallow water that could still whip round and take prey.
“We helped you.”
“And I won’t kill you.” The creature hissed.
And then it was gone. A flick of the tail and the beach was empty but for the two boys, and the trail that had been carved by the creature’s tail. The boys exchanged a look and continued their walk along the deserted sands, silence laying heavy between them.

Predictions may tend to change as usual. The 2024 Cannes Film Festival just started, so there may be some alterations during and after if the movies featured in the festival are praised or panned, and whatever wins the top prizes (especially the Palme d'Or) later on this month.

Best Picture

Blitz
Conclave
Dune: Part Two
Kinds of Kindness
Joker: Folie A Deux
Nickle Boys
Nightb\**h*
Parthenope
A Real Pain
Sing Sing

Next in line: Anora, Bird, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, Gladiator II, Queer
Alt: All We Imagine As Light, Civil War, Didi, Megalopolis, We Live In Time

Best Director

Steve McQueen, Blitz
Edward Berger, Conclave
Denis Villeneuve, Dune: Part Two
Todd Phillips, Joker: Folie A Deux
Paolo Sorrentino, Parthenope

Next in line: George Miller, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga; Ridley Scott, Gladiator II; Yorgos Lanthimos, Kinds of Kindness; Luca Guadagnino, Queer; Greg Kwedar, Sing Sing
Alt: Payal Kapadia, All We Imagine As Light; Sean Baker, Anora; Andrea Arnold, Bird; Francis Ford Coppola, Megalopolis; Jesse Eisenberg, A Real Pain

Best Actor

Ralph Fiennes, Conclave
Joaquin Phoenix, Joker: Folie A Deux
Daniel Craig, Queer
Colman Domingo, Sing Sing
Andrew Garfield, We Live In Time

Next in line: Sebastian Stan, The Apprentice; Barry Keoghan, Bird; Paul Mescal, Gladiator II; Jesse Eisenberg, A Real Pain
Alt: Austin Butler, The Bikeriders; Timothee Chalamet, Dune: Part Two; Adam Driver, Megalopolis; Tenoch Huerta, Pedro Páramo; John David Washington, The Piano Lesson

Best Actress

Saorise Ronan, Blitz
Zendaya, Challengers
Lady Gaga, Joker: Folie A Deux
Emma Stone, Kinds of Kindness
Amy Adams, Nightb\**h*

Next in line: Mikey Madison, Anora; Celeste Dalla Porta, Parthenope; Tilda Swinton, The Room Next Door; Florence Pugh, We Live In Time
Alt: Jodie Comer, The Bikeriders; Noémie Merlant, Emmanuelle; Anya Taylor-Joy, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga; Marianne Jean-Baptiste, Hard Truths; Carrie Coon, His Three Daughters

Best Supporting Actor

Stanley Tucci, Conclave
Jesse Plemons, Kinds of Kindness
Samuel L. Jackson, The Piano Lesson
Kieran Culkin, A Real Pain
Clarence Maclin, Sing Sing

Next in line: Jeremy Strong, The Apprentice; John Lithgow, Conclave; Willem Dafoe, Kinds of Kindness; Gary Oldman, Parthenope
Alt: Tom Hardy, The Bikeriders; Harris Dickinson, Blitz; Javier Bardem, Dune: Part Two; Austin Butler, Dune: Part Two; Chris Hemsworth, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga; Joseph Quinn, Gladiator II; Paul Raci, Sing Sing

Best Supporting Actress

Isabella Rosselini, Conclave
Joan Chen, Didi
Lesley Manville, Queer
Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, Nickle Boys
Danielle Deadwyler, The Piano Lesson

Next in line: Maria Bakalova, The Apprentice; Connie Nielsen, Gladiator II; Jennifer Grey, A Real Pain; Julianne Moore, The Room Next Door
Alt: Kathy Burke, Blitz; Rebecca Ferguson, Dune: Part Two; Zendaya, Dune: Part Two; Naomi Watts, Emmanuelle; Natasha Lyonne, His Three Daughters; Aubrey Plaza, Megalopolis

Best Original Screenplay

Blitz
Didi
Kinds of Kindness
Parthenope
A Real Pain

Next in line: Anora, Bird, We Live In Time
Alt: Civil War, His Three Daughters, Megalopolis, The Room Next Door

Best Adapted Screenplay

Conclave
Dune: Part Two
Joker: Folie A Deux
Nickle Boys
Sing Sing

Next in line: Emmanuelle, Nightb***h, Queer
Alt: Gladiator II, Here, Inside Out 2, Pedro Páramo, The Piano Lesson, The Wild Robot

Best Animated Feature

Inside Out 2
The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim
The Most Precious of Cargoes
Memoir of a Snail
The Wild Robot

Next in line: Moana 2, Spellbound, Ultraman: Rising
Alt: Ghost Cat Anzu, The Glassworker, Kung Fu Panda 4, That Christmas, Transformers One, Wallace & Gromit

Best International Feature

All We Imagine As Light
Emilia Pérez
Emmanuelle
No Other Land
Parthenope

Next in line: Brief History of a Family, Grand Tour, Pedro Paramo
Alt: Crossing, Evil Does Not Exist (potentially), The Girl with the Needle, The Most Precious of Cargoes, Reinas

Best Documentary Feature

Black Box Diaries
Dahomey
Daughters
No Other Land
Porcelain War

Next in line: Ibelin, SupeMan: The Christopher Reeve Story
Alt: Architecton, Piece By Piece, Sugarcane, Union, Will & Harper

Best Production Design

Blitz
Conclave
Dune: Part Two
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga
Gladiator II

Next in line: Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, Joker: Folie A Deux, Megalopolis, Nosferatu, Wicked
Alt: Civil War, Here, Kinds of Kindness, Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, Nickle Boys, Pedro Páramo

Best Cinematography

Blitz
Conclave
Dune: Part Two
Joker: Folie A Deux
Parthenope

Next in line: Bird, Civil War, Gladiator II, Megalopolis
Alt: Didi, Emmanuelle, Kinds of Kindness, Pedro Páramo

Best Costume Design

Dune: Part Two
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga
Gladiator II
Joker: Folie A Deux
Wicked

Next in line: The Apprentice, Blitz, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, Conclave, Megalopolis
Alt: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, Nickle Boys, Nosferatu, The Piano Lesson

Best Film Editing

Blitz
Conclave
Dune: Part Two
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga
Joker: Folie A Deux

Next in line: Civil War, Gladiator II, Queer, A Real Pain, Sing Sing
Alt: Anora, Bird, Challengers, Didi, Kinds of Kindness, Megalopolis

Best Makeup & Hairstyling

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice
Dune: Part Two
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga
Joker: Folie A Deux
Wicked

Next in line: The Apprentice, Blitz, Deadpool & Wolverine, A Different Man, Gladiator II, Megalopolis, Nosferatu
Alt: Abigail, Challengers, Civil War, Hit Man, Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, Monkey Man, Parthenope

Best Sound

Civil War
Dune: Part Two
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga
Joker: Folie A Deux
A Quiet Place: Day One

Next in line: Blitz, Challengers, Gladiator II, Megalopolis, Twisters
Alt: Deadpool & Wolverine, The End, The Fall Guy, Nightb\**h*

Best Visual Effects

Deadpool & Wolverine
Dune: Part Two
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga
Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes
Mufasa: The Lion King

Next in line: Civil War, Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire, Gladiator II, Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, Megalopolis, A Quiet Place: Day One, Twisters
Alt: Alien: Romulus, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, The Fall Guy, Here, IF, Tuesday, Wicked, The Wild Robot

Best Original Score

Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, Challengers
Volker Bertlemann, Conclave
Hans Zimmer, Dune: Part Two
Hildur Guonadottir, Joker: Folie A Deux
Bryce Dessner, Sing Sing

Next in line: TBA, Blitz; Tom Holkenborg, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga; Jerskin Fendrix, Kinds of Kindness; Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, Queer
Alt: Geoff Barrow and Ben Salisbury, Civil War; Harry Gregson-Williams, Gladiator II; Gustavo Santaolalla, Pedro Páramo; Alan Menken, Spellbound; Kris Bowers, The Wild Robot

Best Original Song

TBA, Diane Warren: Relentless
TBA, Joker: Folie A Deux
TBA, Moana 2
TBA, Spellbound
TBA, Twisters

Next in line: TBA, Mufasa: The Lion King
Alt: Not My Fault, Mean Girls

I made a post telling them to appreciate the fact and I got downvoted, like if I were white I’d take pride in that. And the way they try to twist it around talking about some “black privilege” is so cringe. It’s not a privilege to have people walk on eggshells regarding you to avoid being racist, not because they care about you, but their reputation. And either way that’s treating black people like humans which should not be a privilege. People wouldn’t have to do that if they just weren’t racist

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?”

I’m really, really, starting not to like my hair. It bothers me that there’s all this extra work in order to take care of it properly, since it’s super curly (4b or 4c?)
My hair grows, and it’s quite healthy. The longest I’ve had it was to my butt. Right now, its just below my chest. So it’s not a growth or length issue. I’ve also never had it relaxed, I’ve been natural all my life. My routine and products I use are minimal, and I have the techniques down. I would say I’m quite experienced.
My main issue is that it’s not quite versatile. I know people mention all the things you can do to it, but it’s usually wigs, braids, or silk presses. I hate wigs, I hate braids, and constantly straightening your hair damages it and that’s its own set of upkeep. And if it is natural, the styles require a bunch of gel and tension.
For a few years, I had my hair in twists. That’s how I got my hair to my butt. But because of how long it was getting, I would only touch my hair once a month (I know, disgusting). It was getting to the point that I would start in the morning, and at best, end late in the night. I tried doing it more often, which did cut down on the time, but it still took basically all day just in more frequent intervals. I eventually decided to just take the twists out. Due to basically neglecting my hair, I had so many split ends and single strand knots I had to cut more than half my hair 😭
When I looked online for what to do with my hair, all I saw was wigs and weave. I get hot and sweaty easily, and I don’t like the idea of not having access to my scalp, so wigs are a no. I’ve had braids before, but I don’t like sitting down for hours to do my hair, and I didn’t want to continue waiting a month to do my hair or only having it in for 1-2 weeks and taking it out. I don’t trust myself to use heat, and I hate gel as it’ll make my hair greasy quickly. I also wanted styles where I didn’t have to worry about my hair too much, since I like to swim. But without those styles, it’s hard to have your hair looking decent.
My alternative to gel was to detangle and style my hair everyday. I would detangle it in the shower and style it when I came out. Since I didn’t moisturize it, that end up leaving my hair dry and with single strand knots, so I had to cut my hair again. Then I applied moisture every other day, which stopped the knots, but now my hair was getting dirty easily. Also, the routine of taking the time to section my hair, detangle each section, twist it up, and then find a style was getting tiresome. Finding a style while having kinky hair, there’s only a handful of hairstyles that work with no gel, so it was quite discouraging.
Eventually, I just decided to leave my hair in four braids and wash it once a week. My routine is simple: I detangle it in the shower before I start shampooing, I leave it in sections the whole time, leave the conditioner to sit while I wash myself, detangle and rinse it, use water and oil and braid them up. Throughout the week, as it gets frizzy, I detangle and braid it in the shower (which is about every other day).
I look back and I’m like, why all this work??? I watch people with straight and loose curls a lot and I wish I could do what they could with their hair. I wish I could just wake up, brush it out, and it’s decent looking or I can immediately style it. Or, even if I have to wet and detangle it, I wish I didn’t have to constantly section it off, and only let the water “reset” my curls. Since my curls are tight and can knot easily, I don’t wear it out without detangling it first which isn’t a simple ordeal either.
I wish I could do minimal to no sectioning, and when I’m done detangling I could take it all out and just brush through it. I wish it would stay decently detangled throughout my shampooing, and all I have to do is a quick brush through my head with the conditioner in before rinsing it out. I wish it didn’t take me almost 2 HOURS TO WASH AND BRAID MY HAIR EVERY WEEK! I wish when I styled it, I could leave more hair out and do cute minimal hairstyles, not worry about having to “stretch it out” or do looks that could be achieved with minimal to no gel (my hair just isnt like that lol). I wish I could just moisturize it and let it dry and be done with it.
I’ve had long hair: down my butt, lower back, and now I’m letting it grow out again and it’s about mid back. I can’t show off my length! I’ve always wanted long hair, and now that I do, I can’t even take it out and see it all because it’ll just shrink and be a hassle! I think my curls are pretty, but shrinkage limits styles so much and since they’re tight, wearing my hair out just leaves it vulnerable to breakage.
Another issue I have is cleanliness. I wash my hair once a week, but like I said, I’m hot bodied. I’m also active, so I sweat a bunch. My hair just gets dirty so quickly! My issues always been that I can’t just wash it, since it takes so long. I have a life! I have stuff to do! This is tmi, but I hate that I can’t wash my sweaty head! It grosses me out, and I’m always scratching it. I feel like no matter what I do, I’m a slave to my hair. This has to be my biggest issue, it gives me the ick.
My only hope is to shave it. I don’t mind wearing wigs if I have nothing underneath, if I decide to wear wigs. I can also wash it however often I want to. My only issue is my femininity. I love long hair, I love having long hair. I love measuring my hair from time to time and being happy with how much it’s grown. I love the compliments I get about my hair being (unexpectedly) long. Also, my hair wasn’t always long. Before I learned what to do and how to take care of it, my hair was the same length for years and I envied those whose hair was long and loose. I mean I still do, but it’s more for versatility and ease rather than it is about looks (although that does still play a role). Now that I have it, I feel sad about letting it go. It’s kind of like my identity, which is also a reason why I want to shave it off. I’m also already insecure about looking manly, so while shaving my hair from here on out might be freeing, I feel like it’ll amplify another insecurity.
I don’t know what was the point of me making this or if anybody cares but this is my dilemma and I dunno if anyone’s going through something similar.

“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?”

Timestamp: https://imgur.com/a/6oacTEy
S/N and Additional Romeo Pics: https://imgur.com/a/SssAzB1
S/N and Additional Kingslayer Pics: https://imgur.com/a/KOYPfit
Additional Upper Pics: https://imgur.com/a/GWE7fPk
Howdy y'all! Need some funds for a couple project ideas.
Don't like a price? Shoot me an offer! Prices way off? Please let me know!
Bundles > Dibs > PMs. Please comment first then message me!
Prices are 🛳️ to your door, and PayPal F&F is preferred, but Venmo can also be used. Messages (PM) only, I don't look at chats.
I will ship things out USPS as soon as I can.
~~Schmeisser 60 round mag - $40 OBO~~ SOLD
Bought NIB off GAFS, but never used, didn't even open the packaging.
Recover Tactical 20/80 Brace - $70 OBO
Got NIB from GAFS. Mounted it once, but no shots through it. Comes with everything in the original box.
BCM Furniture Combo - $60 OBO
Took all this off my stock 5.56 Saint. Functions perfectly, just switching things up. I would rather keep all this together, ~~but can split if I get buyers for everything~~.
BCM Midlength Drop in Handguard (~600 rounds on my 5.56) - $25
BCM Mod 0 Stock (NOT SOPMOD) (~200 rounds on my 5.56) - $30
~~BCM Grip MOD 1 (~300 on my 5.56) (Does NOT come with grip screw) - $10~~ SOLD
Magpul MVG - $15 OBO
About 300 rounds through my 5.56 Saint. I wanted to like this, but trying out an emissary and liking it more. Comes with screw and mlok nut. Only has one screw so I'm assuming it's older.
Strike Industries M-lok Link Foregrip - $22 OBO
Catch and release from GAFS. Maybe 5 shots with me, looked like new from prior owner. Thought I'd like it, but I ended up going with a different grip. Just askin what I paid for it.
WC P320 Black Carry Grip, no safety cut - $45 OBO
Some salt on the grip, but should be easy to clean with a tooth brush. Great condition.
300 Black Out Upper - $200 OBO
Bought this off GAFS, seller said it was a BKF (I tried to find the post but it has been removed) and put about 100-150 rounds through her with no issues. No BCG or CH is included.
Closest thing I could find from BKF was this https://bkingsfirearms.com/shop/complete-upper-receivers/bkf-ar15-10-5-300-blk-1-7-twist-pistol-length-barrel-w-9-875-slim-m-lok-rail/
Strike Industries AK J Comp - $23 OBO
Put maybe 200 rounds through this, but I shoot indoors more these days so I wanted something more suited for that. Overall nice comp, but loud af inside.
🔴 Sig Romeo 1 Pro 3 MOA red dot - $170 OBO
Some salt on the back (see pics). Overall good shape and hasn't given me any issues after 500 or so rounds. Comes with 1 set of screws (all I could find), the protective shroud, manual/box and a spare cleaning cloth I had.
🔴 Swampfox Kingslayer 3 MOA red dot - $115 OBO
Great condition, could probably use some cleaning. Functioned flawlessly for the 200 rounds I put through the host.

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

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

Looking at lists for Switch games be it regular, loose or special/collectors editions.
Looking at lists for a SNES console with hookups and 2x controllers if possible.
Looking at lists for N64 game loose or complete especially Ogre Battle 64.
Looking at lists for DS/Gameboy/Gameboy Advance Flashcarts.
Looking for Physical Magazines like EGM, GamePro, Nintendo Power and Wizard magazines.
And lastly looking for Gameboy/ColoAdvance games loose or complete.
Thanks Much Fellow Gamers.

PS4

PS4 Slim 500 GB Console with 1x OEM Black Dualshock
Metro Redux CIB
Rise of the Tomb Raider 20th Anniversary Extras Only No Game
Plants vs Zombies 2 : Garden Warfare
Has Been Heroes CIB
The Division
Deus Ex MD

XBox

https://www.flickr.com/photos/200232813@N07/albums/72177720315735025/
Metro Redux
Rare Replay/Ultimate Gears of War
Torment Tides of Nememura in GameStop Case
Lords of the Fallen
Transformers Devastation
Sunset Overdrive
Pillars of Eternity in GameStop Case
One Lords of the Fallen
XBox One Phantom Black Controller CIB USED
XBox Series S White OEM Controller

Amiibo

Metroid Dread 2 Pack BNIB

N64

https://imgur.com/a/H9g5GqQ
Cruis'N USA
Body Harvest
Aerofighters Assault
Top Gear Overdrive
Tony Hawk 3
Buck Bumble
Pokemon Puzzle League with Manual (game and manual in great condition)
Space Station Silicon Valley
Gex 3: Deep Cover Gecko (Entire label was missing so a cheap replacement was made)
Command And Conquer
The New Tetris
Snowboard Kids 1 with Manual (manual and game in great shape small tear on back of Cart)
Robotron 64
Forsaken 64 (video rental sticker on label)
Yoshi's Story
Mischief Makers
Wipeout
Doom 64
Kobe Bryant In NBA Courtside Box(good shape includes inner tray)
NHL Breakaway '98 Box (good condition no inner tray)
Mario Tennis 64 Game with Box (Box is rough shape, missing ride side flap. includes inner tray, Cart is clean)

Gameboy

TMNT Fall of the Foot Clan

Switch

Hori Split Pad Pro Blue CIB (used about 7 months in 9/10 condition)
Old Skool GC Controller Adapter (Works on Switch/PC/Wii U)
Hyperkin Joy-Con Grip Charger
Sushi Striker
Monster Hunter Rise Joy-Cons with Grip NIB
Blacksad: Under The Skin [Limited Edition] SEALED
KORG Gadget
Psikyo Collection Vol. 3 JAP
Super Mario Odyssey Carrying Case

PS Vita

The Walking Dead: Season 2
Hot Shots Golf World Invitational
Legend Of Heroes: Trails Of Cold Steel 1
Dynasty Warriors Next
Stranger Of Sword City
Shantae Half-Genie Hero [Risky Beats Edition]
UnEpic SEALED
Risk Of Rain SEALED
Aqua Kitty SEALED
Grand Kingdom Case
Toukiden : Kiwami Case

3DS

Legend Of Legacy Launch Edition SEALED
Crush 3D Loose in 3DS Case
Cubic Ninja Loose in 3DS Case
Codename S.T.E.A.M
Smash Bros 3DS CIB
Steel Diver CIB

PS1

Fighter Maker Loose
FF9 CIB (Case damaged)
Crash Bandicoot 2 Loose in Twisted Metal GH Case
Sim City 2000 Game+Case (damaged)
Oddworld Abes Oddysee CIB

DS

Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles Ring Of Fates loose
OEM Charging Base for original 3DS
Intec DS Case
Bleach Blade Of Fate Loose

PS3

Final Fantasy X/X2 Remaster Limited Edition CIB
NiNoKuni 1 Steelbook CIB
Zone Of The Enders HD Collection CIB
Yakuza 3 Loose
Metal Gear Solid HD Collection Loose
Genji Days Of The Blade
Genji Days Of The Blade Loose
Need for Speed Most Wanted CIB
Call of Duty : Modern Warfare 3
Need for Speed Pro Street
Red Faction Guerilla x2
MoH Warfighter LE Loose
Crysis 2
Mercenaries 2 in Generic Case
Call of Duty MW3 x2
Assassins Creed 4 BF
Beyond Steelbook Bad shape broken at spine
Uncharted Dual Pack in Custom generic case

PS2

https://imgur.com/a/pBJLqjf
https://imgur.com/a/1odALsV
Gran Turismo 3 A-Spec
Soul Caliber 2 CIB
ATV Offroad Fury 4
MDK 2 Armageddon Loose
Need For Speed Hot Pursuit 2
The Getaway
007 Agent Under Fire Loose
Test Drive GH
Star Wars The Force Unleashed CIB
Army Men Soldiers of Misfortune
Welcome to Jumpack Demo Disc
Metal Arms in Generic Case
MX vs ATX
Army Men
Rocky
NCAA Football 2004
Army Men : Sarges Hero
Full Spectrum Warrior
FIFA 2001 MLS
NCAA Football 2003
NCAA Football 2004
Eye Toy Antigrav with Eye Camera
Wheel of Fortune
Motorcross Mania 3
Seaworld Deep Sea Adventures
Socom US Navy Seal
Red Faction Case
Final Fantasy X-2
ThrillVille
MGS 2 CIB
DQ8 missing Demo Disc
Onimusha 2 CIB
MX vs ATV Unleashed CIB
Tekken 5 CIB
Kingdom Hearts 1 GH CIB
Kingdom Hearts 2 GH CIB
Stuntman CIB
Looney Tunes Back in Action CIB Looney Tunes Back in Action
Tak CIB
Soul Caliber 3 CIB
God of War 1 First Print CIB
GTA San Andreas missing manual

XB360

BF3 Limited Edition
Kinect Adventures
Motionsports
Call of Duty Ghosts
3rd Party Controller
Darksiders 2
Marvel Ultimate Alliance in Gamestop Case
OEM Black Controller with Battery Pack

Gamecube

Donkey Kong Bundle (includes CIB copy of Donkey Konga, 1x loose Bogo Drum controller and DK Jungle Beat Bongo Drum controller in box but missing game BOX IS IN ROUGH SHAPE)
Odama CIB with Microphone (Big Box is in rough shape but Game/Case/Manual/Mic are in perfect condition)
GB Player OEM Case Holder *Missing outer cardboard and Manual
NFL2k3 CIB
Monopoly Party+Manual in Blockbuster Case
Star Wars Rogue Leader+Manual in DVD Case
Spiderman 2 Player's Choice (Missing Manual)
Megaman Anniversary Collection (Missing Manual)
MC Groovez Dance Craze
Fifa Soccer 2002
Spiderman 1 Case
007 NightFire Case with Fantastic Four Games

Wii

Nights Journey of Dreams in Gamestop Case & Manual
Generic Dual Wiimote Charging Dock

Covers, Cases and Manuals

8x Universal Game Cases (N64,SNES,Genesis,etc)
3DS Persona Q : Shadow of the Labyrinth Case
Grand Kingdom Case
Toukiden : Kiwami Case
Wii Dragon Quest Swords Manual
Wii Monster Hunter 3 Manual
Wii Elebits Manual
GC Ghost Recon Case & Manual
GC True Crime Streets of LA Case & Manual
GC Spiderman 1 Case Only
GC Dead to Rights Case & Manual
GC Splinter Cell Pandora Tomorrow Case & Manual
GC Hitman 2 Case & Manual
GC MoH Frontline Case & Manual
GC Rainbow Six 3 Case & Manual
PS2 Red Faction Case
PS2 Call of Duty FH Case & Manual
GC NFL 2K3 Case
PS4 Nioh Case
PS Vita Exist Archive Case
PS3 Zone of Enders HD Collection Case & Manual
PS2 Dragon Quest 8 Case & Manual
PS2 Onimusha 2 Case & Manual
PS2 Tekken 5 Case & Manual
PS2 Kingdom Hearts 1 GH Case & Manual
PS2 Kingdom Hearts 2 GH Case & Manual
PS2 Area 51 Case PAL version
GC NBA 2K2 Case & Manual
PS2 Final Fantasy X-2 Case $ Manual
PS2 Starwars Battlefront Case & Manual
GC Prince of Persia Cover & Manual
GC Viewtiful Joe 1 Manual
PS2 Katamari Damacy Cover & Manual
GC Burnout 3 Takedown
PS2 Nightmare before Christmas Oogies Revenge Cover & Manual
PS2 GTA San Andreas Cover & Manual
PS2 Capcom Classic Collection Cover & Manual
PS2 Virtua Fighter 4 Evolution Manual
PS2 Megaman X Collection Cover & Manual
PS2 Star Ocean Till the End of Time Cover & Manual
PS2 R-Type Final Cover & Manual
PS2 Soul Caliber 2 Cover
XB Panzer Dragoon Orta Cover & Manual
XB Ninja Gaiden Black Cover & Manual
PS2 Mad Maestro Cover & Manual
PS2 007 Everything or Nothing Manual
PS2 Half Life 2 Cover
PS2 Devil May Cry 3 Cover & Manual
PS2 FF X-2 Cover & Manual
PS2 REZ Cover & Manual
PS2 Rygar Cover & Manual
PS2 Chaos Legion Manual
PS2 Zone of Enders 1 Cover & Manual
PS2 Final Fantasy 12 Manual
PS2 Front Mission 4 Cover & Manual
PS2 Metal Gear Solid 3 Subsistence Cover
PS2 Escape from Monkey Island Cover
PS1 Final Fantasy Chronicles GH Back/Front Cover & Manual
PS1 Tenchu 1 Cover & Manual
PS1 Final Fantasy 7 GH Front/Back Cover & Manual
PS1 Buster Bros Collection Cover & Manual
GC Zelda Master Quest Manual + Windwaker Promotional Paperwork
PS2 Black Case & Manual

Women are being attacked from every angle right now and people are getting increasingly emboldened to do so. Rolling back rights every day. Government officials and prominent people in American society saying stuff that no sane person would ever say.
In the past few months:
An NFL kicker, Harrison Butker, lead a commencement speech at a university graduation and addressed the women specifically saying they were dreaming of getting married and having children, right after telling them they were being “diabolically lied to” in reference to “careers and promotions”. Then he went on an insane political/religious rant, at a university graduation, of all places.
NC candidate for governor, Mark Robinson, has openly said he “absolutely would want to go back to an America where women couldn’t vote” and that “we are called to be led by men… David, not Davita”. He has been endorsed by Donald Trump, who called him “MLK on steroids”, which is crazy because Mark Robinson called MLK inferior and a “communist” and referred to the civil rights movement as “crap”. Craziest part is, Mark is Black. This is scary bc some Trump worshipers would literally eat dog crap if he said it was good for you. They will vote for people like Mark Robinson who wants to take women back centuries if Trump says he’s honorable.
NH state representative, Jess Edwards, got on the stand, arguing in favor of child marriage, calling 16 year old girls “ripe and fertile”.
Idaho is attacking EMTALA and have been deciding just how close to death they’ll let a woman get before performing an abortion to save her life.
In February, 195 house republicans voted against women’s access to birth control.
States are attacking IVF. An embryo (CELLS - not even a fetus) literally has more rights than women in some states right now. They want to hold women accountable for the embryos that don’t implant into her uterus during the IVF process.
And just to put the cherry on top, look up the Arizona senator hosting a prayer circle on the floor of the capitol building in a hearing concerning abortion, speaking in tongues while people gathered around him yelling, “let it be, God!”. We have a weird version of Christianity here that also equals being alt far right and doubling down on who can be the biggest bigot. It’s to the point that it’s not even about the issues anymore. It’s about one side opposing the other and playing with people’s lives in the process. Being “right”, imposing twisted religious/capitalist/nationalist beliefs on women.
Every day it’s something else these nut jobs do. I feel like we’re living in the handsmaid’s tale. We just keep going on like nothing is happening, but damn… I feel like people are just turning a blind eye to this when crazy people are becoming more emboldened to act insane. Actually, let me backtrack, people who are experiencing insanity have no choice. These fools are CHOOSING IT and imposing it on everyone.
I don’t know what to do. Protesting will only do so much when they don’t care what you’re saying.

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

The recipe is a basic Black Manhattan but with Black Walnut Bitters in place of orange and a splash of Heering added.
2oz bourbon (I usually use something at or close to 100 proof) 3/4 oz Averna 1/4 oz Heering Dash Angostura Dash Black Walnut Bitters
I skip the traditional cherry garnish because of the Heering, but if I'm serving to others I'll add one. You can skip the Heering and it won't make or break it, but I'm a fan of the slight extra sweetness and cherry note it adds.
I've tried a ton of different bitters in these, but it's the black walnut that really makes this pop off. It's become my cocktail of choice and I batch it regularly.
Names I've considered play off the "black" part of the name and taking it a step further from not only the black walnut but also the black cherry Heering. Not super clever but it's mostly all I've been able to come up with.
Suggestions would be awesome.
Examples.... Black Hole Manhattan Midnight Manhattan Ebony/Onyx/Jet Black/Obsidian... etc... 9th Plague [of Egypt]

A strange idea I became somewhat fixated with after seeing a post by someone else about the aftermath of their Aetherphasic Engine activation. The Engine is supposed to turn all planets into black holes, but theirs bugged due to mods, and there were still colonies on asteroids left with survivors.
I don't know if such a mod exists, but if it does please let me know, but what about a mod that turns all systems except the ones of each factions capital into black holes? Struggling for resources in a galaxy long dead sounds like it could be a cool playthrough, no? It would make you much more reliant on starbase upgrades and later ringworlds for resources and space, and would just be a cool twist.

Black twist hairstyles

hairstyles4blackppl