This is a crossover fanfiction between original fiction titles: Nature of Predators by SpacePaladin15 and The Last Angel by Proximal Flame respectively. All credit and rights reserved goes to them for making such amazing science fiction settings that I wanted to put this together.
You can read The Last Angel here: Be warned, it's decently long, and at its third installment so far. I highly suggest reading it before reading this, or this story will not make sense.

Otherwise, enjoy the story! Thanks again to u/jesterra54 and u/skais01 for beta and checking of work!
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Memory transcription subject: Adjek, Venlil Space Corps Engineer
Date [standardized human time]: October 24, 2136
I had departed with a collection of other engineers who had assisted on the tethering of Nemesis several days ago back to her massive ship. There were twenty-five of us, although none I knew directly from my work.
As our cargo shuttle entered the direct monitoring range of the beast once more, I felt a bad feeling throughout my fur. I didn't know what, exactly, but it was like we had just stepped into the eyes of a predator lurking in the undergrowth, watching us intently. As if to capitalize on that unease, our pilot Mimek bleated something in a panic that made said fur stand straight.
"T-th-th-there's an Arxur vessel trailing us!"
I whirled onto the oncoming feed near the front of the shuttle. Behind us, was a Arxur Ambusher-class dropship that had taken a path directly behind us. It followed the exact same trajectory as our own, and showed no signs of diverting. I bleated out a panicked command of my own.
"K-kick it! W-we need to get distance from them!"
While I had no authority to tell the pilot what to do in this situation, he must've nevertheless agreed, and as such Mimek kicked the boosters into overdrive to escape their proximity. I kept an eye on the rear display, watching as in response, the Arxur craft opened up its own engines, as if to accept the chase, and closed in.
Mimek spoke again. "Why are they chasing us?! D-didn't the humans forbid them from attacking us in-system?!" I had a horrible thought as to why...
"They've fallen to their p-predator bloodlust! They won't be stopped so long as we're in vulnerable space! Close to Nemesis, fast!" I pointed at the guidance lights to the hangar on Nemesis' keel opening. While the Arxur could likely outrun us in an extended burn, we had the advantage in a sprint over a shorter distance. Nemesis was in that shorter distance range, and so we needed to reach it fast to be in its haven.
Mimek, already piloting at full afterburn, corrected the shop in a sharp turn from the plotted approach vector cleared with the Lunar Shipyards. As this occurred, a reminder from the very same monitors came through on comms.
"Venlil ship, this is LSC Tower 3, you have left the agreed final approach vector, adjust your course to match the planned path immediately, do not continue on your current heading."
The humans did not realize the threat we were currently in, and thus the pilot ignored the warning. The Arxur seemingly took our course change as a challenge, and followed suit.
"I repeat, readjust your course heading immediately or fighters will be scrambled. This is your only warning." Even were that the case, we were far too close for them to plot an intercept vector. The shipyard monitors would need at least [one minute] to reach us, and Nemesis was merely [20 seconds] at full-burn-then-brake approach. We would not let the ship closing in behind us catch us, disciplinary action be damned. The damned Arxur succumbed to their predator madness!
A lazy-curve speed burnoff pattern was adopted, and we rocketed at ever-decreasing, but still frightening pace towards Nemesis in an attempt to shake the Ambusher behind us. The hangar was merely moments away, don't fail us now!
The Arxur vessel broke off the chase near the massive docked ship, seemingly slowing for no apparent reason. Perhaps it realized it couldn't slow down as fast as we could, and as such had to? But, that came with another stomach-hurdling problem: us slowing down. If we didn't, we'd crash and turn into nothing but paste on the walls of the gargantuan ship's hangar.
Thankfully, Mimek pulled through, and we zoomed into the hangar space, hitting the emergency external inertial dampener breaking as we attempted landing. The ship skidded across the floor, as it skipped nearly a [fourty meters] to a stop, crashing through something on the way through, but we were moving at such a pace that I had no clue exactly what.
As the ship came to a complete stop, rocking back onto its belly with a final thump, there was the sound of heavy stomping outside, before something rammed into the back of the ship, nearly rocking it off-balance again. "What...what was that?!" We both exclaimed.
We stepped away from the back exit ramp of the vehicle, all twenty five of us, as it began to groan under immense stress. The door dented in, and a few of us instantly cried out in surprise and fear.
And then again. And again. Another rocking of the ship as a dent formed. Another.
And finally, with an unsettling sound of metal being torn through, a crack in the plating of the door turned into a gap that widened into a shaking hole, until the door literally flew off its hydraulic support. The strain spat out fluids and electrical sparking, and several bleated in fear of the sudden disassembly of the door between us and the hangar. Had the Arxur caught up to us? Were we doomed?
But as the burst of electrical smoke cleared, and the light was filtered through our adjusting eyes, what was on the other side shocked me.
A mechanical monstrosity, far bulkier and massive than the one that had confronted my group and I aboard Nemesis stood on the other side. It towered above us, with a intimidatingly large cannon built into one of its arms, aimed dead center into our room, looking more akin to a vehicle's gun than a handheld one. One could see behind it many more of a similar looking model closing in. It spoke in a wrathful tone...Her wrathful tone.
"What the hell are you doing CRASHING INTO ME? There better be a-"
But I felt a chill as it suddenly cut off, and the featureless head of the bipedal robot swiveled to look directly at me instead. Though I could see no clear indicator of eyes like the nightmarish drone I had talked with in the past, I could feel it gaze directly at me, ignoring the others. It suddenly spoke again, a single word conveying contempt dripping in it. The blood in my veins turned cold as the Twilight.
"YOU..."
+CONFED IO.5+
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
+ADDENDUM: ADJUSTED DATE 24.10.2136+
Something's wrong, I can feel it.
The bearing of the approaching ships has left the supposed approach vector, and directly accelerated towards my open hangar bay. While the ships pose no threat to me directly, I am uncertain if they are capable of stopping quickly enough to not risk the human crew that had just landed. I considered my options...
+grab beam non-responsive, schedule systems evaluation immediately+
I had no capability to tractor the ships from their path, and they showed no sign of slowing. I could fire a particle beam in the path of both ships, but there was no ability to tune down the power enough to not destroy the ships, and it would not reduce their velocity. I plotted the relative course of the Venlil shuttle to be coming at this angle, which thankfully was towards the opposite side of the hangar as the Human delegation. That did not remove the possibility of shrapnel from a crash, however.
I interspersed my Praetorians in front of them, seeking to act as a shield in the case of any flying debris. I warned them in the same instant.
"Take cover behind these drones, there is a problem with the landing Venlil ship on route."
"W..What's going on, Red?" Hailey asked, confused. Never had I been this direct with her physically, actively interspersing my drones in front of her and the rest of the scientific delegation.
"They are likely to crash. Predicted acceleration curves of the shuttle do not meet the prerequisite delta-V to stop safely at this current distance and velocity. Duck and cover."
The shuttlecraft streaked into my hangar bay at speeds that would make a 21st century jet blush. It slowed anomalously upon entering, but did not slow at enough rate to prevent the crash. The Praetorians situated on that side of my hangar were incapable of moving fast enough to dodge out of the way, and I was forced to watch as the shuttle crashed through thirty-two of them in a 45-meter break distance, before slamming into a hangar wall. They were built to withstand incredible munition strength, but not twenty-some odd tons of shuttle at near mach speeds. The impact brutally cast them across the deck, smashing some, tearing apart others.
Debris flew from the front of the shuttle outward, but none reached near the humans. Those moronic aliens were about to answer painfully for their incompetence on my deck.
"Dear god!" One of the humans swore at the sound of the shuttle crashing. Another screamed and ducked down further behind my Praetorian. The drone curled down to better envelop her in protection. Hailey was speechless.
A squadron of Praetorians had been closing in from a safe distance throughout the entirety of the crash. They were a mere hundred meters away, only 4.9 seconds to reach the doors. I collided with the shuttlecraft's exit ramp, and slammed repeatedly into the back of it, aiming to create a gap by which to pry the thing off. Eventually, a gap was made, and the Praetorian body wrenched a manipulator into it.
Then, after tearing off the ramp door to the ship, and beginning to interrogate the idiotic fucks at gunpoint, I find no less that a familiar face has come with them. A familiar face I would have rather not seen again in the slightest.
+identity confirmation, Adjek, Venlil engineer+
"YOU...What, are you doing here, again?"
I stepped forward, into the cargo shuttle, the Praetorian I controlled looming over them, over him, by nearly one and a half meters. I made certain to emphasize that size difference. One does not just crash in me like this without a good reason, or I'd be testing how long a Venlil survives vacuum.
Adjek decided to speak up, fear laden in his voice. "I-I-I...W-we were being chased by an Arxur vessel on the course here! T-They ignored the human's truce and decided to p-pursue us directly!"
I faltered a bit at that. Chased? The Arxur supposedly promised that they wouldn't attack the Venlil in-system, but given how much the bad blood between the Arxur and herbivore races was hyped up, I couldn't toss out the possibility.
"Is he telling the truth?" I swung the Praetorian's fake head about the room, scanning over each Venlil in the audience. It wasn't necessary, I had a panoramic view just from the chest optics alone, but the psychological effect and bait of having a head was palpable. They all parroted something similar to what Adjek and the pilot said, so I had no clear contradiction to go off of yet.
But I wasn't done with intimidation, I warmed the cannon muzzle to be visible within the deep red visual spectrum, and aimed it at him.
"Tell me everything, now."
He began to describe his intent and clearance for coming here...but reality decided to be a pain at that exact moment, as the likely culprit entered the hangar. Thankfully, I wasn't hampered by multitasking. A section of me split attention equally to the Arxur ship landing in my bay.
This ship, supposedly the Ambusher-class Goring Claw going off the IFF, was an armed dropship of some sort capable of intro-extra-atmospheric operation, given the rotary variable mode engines. They had been given landing clearance, but not by me, no, instead by the shipyard.
I would need to ask the UN to bring down that blackout protocol soon. This is immensely inconvenient to not have access to monitoring and communication outside myself, except through Hailey. Nevertheless, I positioned my remaining Praetorians around the likely exit of the dropship, awaiting it to open and...greet...these likely troublemakers. I had one Praetorian stand directly front-and-center to the back end, and aim weapons, but not arm them at the dropship hangar doors.
With a hiss, and a burst of slightly depressurized gas, the door opened, and out marched a line of two pairs of two Arxur guards. Their gear looked highly ceremonial, given its lack of tactical or efficient features, and the choice of weapon being a spear of some sort with a sidearm still holstered. Behind them, walked an even more gaudy individual than the guards, an Arxur with a prominent scar across their face covered in flamboyant ceremonial uniform. I was almost certain this was Chief Hunter Isif, Lithke's commanding officer, given Hailey's description of the visitors earlier. Behind him marched a set of less extravagantly dressed figures, likely advisors of some sort. And, of course, Lithke.
I wouldn't just let them off the hook so easily though, despite their far better entrance.
"Chief Hunter Isif. Lithke. You had best have a good reason for making a Venlil ship crash into my hangar."
Memory transcription subject: Chief Hunter Isif, Arxur Dominion Sector Fleet
Date [standardized human time]: October 24, 2136
Those idiots seriously did not-
...No, calm yourself, a Chief Hunter must always look composed, even in the face of absurdity.
The pilot in control of this Ambusher had heard my order to follow the Venlil in, got target fixation, and decided to escalate it to a chase. I would have him lashed for the offense later, but for now, I needed to quickly rekindle what little good will the Arxur had in Red One's eyes.
Losing it now could mean turning up hungry forever.
"I apologize for my pilot's unprofessional actions. He will be punished severely later for the transgression of letting his instincts override both human and my orders. Is there anything I can do further to fix your appetite, Red One?"
The robot frontmost of our shuttle stepped forward, it's bulk and size intimidating even by Arxur standards. It towered tall enough to nearly be at my head height despite the fact I was standing on the dropship ramp. Red One's response was curt, and [quick to the kill]. "You can start by convincing the odd twenty-five or so Venlil engineers your pilot chased into crashing on my hangar deck that you aren't here to eat them all, or whatever sickening actions you Arxur do. When that's done, then you may converse with Hailey Whitmer."
At least it wasn't "you've done enough, stop". I'd seen plenty disappear after that particular response in the Dominion.
"Fine. Blades!" I shouted to the ceremony guard I was issued. "Two of you will hold the pilot at the ship for punishment. He is to not eat, nor rest, nor do anything until I return. The rest will assist Lithke in assuaging the prey that they are safe...for now. I must speak with Red One while you do."
They saluted, and went about their way.
Good, everyone bought it. In a sense, this was funnily enough just the distraction I needed. Perhaps I'll reduce the pilot's lashing count quietly for that.
Now...for the harder part. I had no idea if Red would sense my intentions, and so-
The combat drone spoke once again. "Lithke's sung your praises, Chief Hunter Isif. An icon of 'applied cruelty' in his words. I'm curious as to why that should be praised, out of all things in a leader."
We're still too close to the ship, even if none are around to hear it, audio logs might pick up any dissenting thoughts. I should bring this conversation elsewhere.
"I see Lithke wasn't convincing on his own, it seems. Here, walk with me, I still have yet to meet your Special Envoy Hailey personally." I began to walk towards the group of humans near the other end of the hangar.
"So, you have met her?" Red One instantly picked up on the message, noticing the phrasing. So, she's capable of understanding subtlety...
"Yes, but not directly. She gave a presentation at the UN's discussion on you, which I attended."
"And what, pray tell, did you learn about there?" Red One seemed to press me slightly on the session, clearly looking for something. I'd play along, get in their favor.
"Plenty. You're by far the most powerful ship in the galaxy, as far as I can tell. The Humans and Venlil alike are afraid of you, but the former less-so, seeing a more mixed reaction to your presence."
"And what do you think of me?" Red questioned.
I began with a political mealy-mouth phrase.
"The Dominion is not-"
But she interrupted my train of thought. "No. I didn't ask what the Arxur thought. I was asking what you thought, specifically."
What?!
I scanned quickly, my head paced from side to side as I looked for any potential monitoring agent or tools nearby that could potentially pick up on my dialogue.
"You're...an interesting shake-up to the galaxy. Possibly even a means to an end I've been looking into."
There was a curiosity laden in that tone. "Is that so? What, pray tell, would an Arxur fleet leader need with me?"
Again, I checked about, to make certain none were close. "I...am trying to solve a personal problem. Your emergence is convenient to it..."
"Ah...so I was correct..." Red One's drone stopped in front of me for a moment, before turning directly to address me. "...The constant checking about other Arxur assets, the send-off of your personal guard, the overcompensation on the facial details and micromovements, the ordering of Lithke to 'convince' me of Dominion ideals. How much of it is an act, Chief Hunter Isif?"
She already found me out!?
The mask dropped in a panic, knowing none were close enough to pick up on it. "Quiet! How did you pick up on that?" I hissed under my breath to them.
She neglected to answer that statement directly, instead asking another question. "That's not important. The better thing to ask, is what exactly do you want with me?"
Well, since the meat has been spoiled...
I decided to be blunt, and honest. "I need either a line to directly converse with you on a sensitive matter later, or a method to do it now. There is a deep sickness within the Arxur, and you are a possible lynchpin to excise it. But it is traitorous in nature to Betterment, and they have agents everywhere. I would need it to be done away from their ears."
"I am currently operating in blackout conditions. I cannot send or receive signals from the outside without going through a UN transponder, so the first option is out currently. You need a distraction then, while you're here." Red's drone turned back around and continued walking, not giving away anything to the outside of her sudden skinning of my fake personality. "That can be arranged. But not this instant, we are already too close to outside ears for an extended conversation."
"A codeword, then? Some indicator that I may step away and talk securely with you?"
"A codeword is a start, but I'm more concerned about your personal guard. Are they loyal to you enough to ignore such a conversation?"
"Absolutely not. Effectively none of the group that has come along with me is loyal enough to hear this."
Red One didn't speak immediately, but the pause was small. "A full separation might be possible. I have an idea during the tour. If I say the phrase, 'Feel free to peruse' to you specifically, it will mean I have sufficiently separated attention enough that you may speak to me securely. Do you understand?"
She already has a plan? Her speed on that matter is dizzying.
I would have to trust her method. "I understand."
"Good, mask up again, we are within the distance of maximum human audible range given this volume."
Her matter of figuring out my intentions and act that quickly was unnerving, but it made some sense for a sentient computer. She likely thought far faster than the average Arxur, or even Human. But I could consider that later, I needed to get back in character. While my physical demeanor hadn't wavered any, I needed to give off the mental face of a Chief Hunter once again to allay suspicions. Especially since my personal guard were likely to return soon.
Hailey Whitmer noticed us soon after, and disengaged herself from talking with the other Humans. She began her way over here, leaving them to huddle around their ship, still unloading a collection of scientific equipment and personal belongings. "Chief Hunter Isif! Welcome to the UECNS Nemesis. What happened exactly that caused the Venlil to crash in like that, however? I heard a concerning bit that they were chased?"
I lashed my tail in frustration at that. "Our pilot idiotically got fixated on the Venlil ship. He will be punished later. For now I apologize on their behalf. I will try and...convince the Venlil's not to fear soon, but I honestly don't expect them to listen. They are prey, after all, sniveling in fear at the slightest provocation."
Hailey looked annoyed at that statement, but I could at least take personal solace in knowing it was mere persona. She would simply have to deal with it. "That's rather rude to our allies, Isif."
I corrected her: "Your allies, Human. The prey do not interest me. No, what interests me and my cohort is this ship." I pointed a claw at the robotic soldier behind me.. "I have already met Red One herself, and as you are the UN's Envoy here, I must meet you as well. Lithke has spoken much about both of you."
Hailey's expression changed from veiled frustration to surprise at that. "He has? Hah! I did charm-...oh, excuse my manners. When your entourage arrives over here, we can begin a proper tour with the both of us at the helm. Red?"
A voice emanated from the walls. "Yes, Hailey?"
"Do you have a path listed for a proper tour throughout your facilities?"
She responded immediately. "Yes. The UEC military has conducted tours before of my hull to other officials. I can follow said pathing, ignoring areas currently exposed to vacuum or damaged heavily. It will cover roughly 45% of the ship, and with transportation aid, take roughly 4 and a half hours."
Hailey clapped her hands together. "Perfect! When the three groups are gathered properly here, we can begin."
Given I could see my guard returning, thankfully not laden with prey blood or wounds, that would be soon.
+CONFED IO.5+
+READING MAIN SEQ.MEM+
+ADDENDUM: ADJUSTED DATE 24.10.2136+
I have had tours done of my shipself before. When my form was still under construction, Commander Theodore William Billingsly had given a walk-around to Yasmine, in preparation to turn over the role of Captain to her. The visit had gone rather easily, and familiarized her with my layout quickly in a professional manner. I had given numerous miniature tours of my layout to new crew members, with assistance from more established crew. I figured tours were nothing too special to my sensibilities and experience.
But I had never quite had the experience of juggling a tour where each distinct species of the tour was at odds with the other two. Listening to them was taxing.
"What are you looking at, leaflicker?"
"H-Help! I-It wants to e-e-eat me!!!"
"Could y'all just get along for a single moment? We're coming up on the barracks, supposedly, and yet you're at each other's throats!"
"Of course we're at their throats, those are rather delicious to tear out."
"You predators would focus on our vulnerable spots, w-wouldn't you!"
"Fuck's sake, you can't behave, can y'all?"
"Jealous of our vicious nature?"
"No we're not! What you do to the other races in this galaxy is abhorrent!"
"Yeah, you Arxur monsters have nothing to be proud of! I've lost family to your kind!"
Very taxing.
The human team and Hailey were trying to somewhat wrangle the mood down, but the Arxur and Venlil despised one another, and it showed. There was no quieting-down of their feud for more than a few minutes, before it started up again for the smallest altercations. I was glad I had brought a host of Praetorians to keep them physically separate somewhat, as I'd hate to have seen any humans hurt in the way.
Instead, I tried to focus on just providing an air of authority, as Hailey led them throughout my assorted systems and layout, only providing input where she did not know about. There were at least some receptive comments of myself during the tour that didn't result in lambasting the other two parties.
"The internal layout of this ship is rather unique. It doesn't look like anything in the Federation proper." A Venlil engineer by the name of Joluk mentioned.
"Yeah, I know!" Said a human scientist by the name of George Oscoda. "It's very...Death Star meets Nostromo, made a bit wider, then painted gunmetal black with red detailing."
Joluk turned back to him. "I have no idea what those are, but I don't like the sound of a Death Star." Their tail went ramrod straight, hanging down at the comment. Perhaps a body language fear response?
I decided to clarify from a drone nearby. "The internal design pattern of the UEC favors a highly geometric, hexagonal or octagonal hall layout, for maximum support with little freestanding support. A three-to-two width to height ratio also helps alleviate claustrophobic concerns, and detriments mental health minimally for extended stays."
George spoke up again. "I guess that's fair, but nothing will change how depressingly dark and scarred-up some of these corridors and bulkheads are currently. I get that it's battle damage, but..."
Lithke piped in from the front. "Nemesis wears her scars proudly. She is a predator forged in war, none escape without scars." I couldn't find a reason to directly deny said statement. I did sometimes prefer the reminder of how many Compact Janissaries had died within myself. How I shivered in delight at knowing they met their ends aboard my hull.
I decided to just remain silent on that. Hailey also responded to that soon after. "Well, honor besides, a lot of that damage will have to be repaired eventually. No amount of self-righteousness excuses holes to vacuum in some spots." She was also right. There were various spots throughout me that were not even enterable, let alone habitable as I was. Numerous collapsed-in sections, holes in my hull all-throughout. There wasn't even a main engines section anymore, with the aft exposed to space after redlining to Earth to save them from the Federation fleet. No amount of scars would justify not repairing battle damage.
I was at least partially glad they could not read Compact Standard. The various little easter eggs of alien languages scattered on my walls were filled with warnings and resignations of regret for boarding me. I left them there, to add to the ambient horror of unwelcome borders, but currently it just felt...out of place. I did not want to scare the people on board.
Thankfully there were few along this path, and none noticed it as the language it was offhand, so I avoided those questions. As we walked to the entrance doors to the barracks, there was a hallway we would have to cross first. One I had kept tenderly over the centuries.
I decided to speak ahead of time on it. "We are coming up on a particular area of mine en route to the general barracks. It was not something made in my time with humanity, but more...a personal project. Reminders and trophies of what and who I fought for both myself, and any others who might unfortunately find themselves this far into my halls." Some of the Arxur looked intrigued by that statement.
Hailey looked a little nervous at the way I introduced it. "I-I wouldn't really call it something particularly-"
I kept going over her response. It wasn't particularly polite, but if I was to make a maximal psychological distraction for Isif to say his piece, it would need to be done...
As a drone already within put the finishing touches on the arrangement, and skittered away into the dark lofts above, the doors opened to my favorite rooms, and I introduced the hallway ahead.
"Welcome...to my Collection."
First Prev Next (soon)

⭐️ Featured image on this post is from: After The End Of History: British Working Class Photography 1989-2024 (Herbert Art Gallery & Museum)
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🎨 Art & Exhibitions

Event	Date	Venue
BSL Gallery Tour with Olivier Jamin	Sat 15th Jun 2pm	Warwick Arts Centre
Exhibition On Screen: My National Gallery	Until 13th Jun	Warwick Arts Centre
After The End Of History: British Working Class Photography 1989-2024	Until 16th Jun	Herbert Art Gallery & Museum
Summer Exhibition	Until 23rd Jun	Warwick Arts Centre
Sent from Coventry	Until 7th Jul	Coventry Cathedral
Coventry's Jewish Community	Until 30th Sep	Herbert Art Gallery & Museum
Picturing High Streets: Coventry - Tim Mills	Until 3rd Nov	Coventry Transport Museum
Collecting Coventry	Until Apr 2025	Herbert Art Gallery & Museum
Dippy In Coventry: The Nation's Favourite Dinosaur	Until Feb 2026	Herbert Art Gallery & Museum
Warwickshire's Jurassic Sea	Until Feb 2026	Herbert Art Gallery & Museum

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🎤 Comedy

Event	Date	Venue
Coventry Improv: Full of Beans	Fri 14th Jun 4pm	Coventry Transport Museum

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👨‍👩‍👦‍👦 Family

Event	Date	Venue
Doze Under Dippy	Sat 15th Jun	Herbert Art Gallery & Museum
Play Children's War Games	Sat 15th Jun 11am	The Blitz Museum
Big Gobs Puppet Project	Until 15th Jun	Herbert Art Gallery & Museum
Family Sundays	Until 23rd Jun	Warwick Arts Centre
Mini Creatives	Until 25th Jun	Warwick Arts Centre
Junior Drama Classes (5-7)	Until 2nd Jul	Belgrade Theatre
Junior Drama Classes (8-11)	Until 3rd Jul	Belgrade Theatre
Sensory Stories and Rhymes	Until 16th Jul	Herbert Art Gallery & Museum
Mini Museum Engineers Play	Until 28th Aug	Coventry Transport Museum

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🎥 Film

Event	Date	Venue
Blue Jean	Fri 14th Jun 3pm	Warwick Arts Centre
Beautiful Thing	Fri 14th Jun 5:15pm	Warwick Arts Centre
Pride (10th Anniversary)	Fri 14th Jun 7:30pm	Warwick Arts Centre
Young Woman and the Sea	Until 13th Jun	Warwick Arts Centre
Rosalie	Until 13th Jun	Warwick Arts Centre
Dead Don't Hurt	Until 13th Jun	Warwick Arts Centre
Here	Until 18th Jun	Warwick Arts Centre
Freud's Last Session	Until 20th Jun	Warwick Arts Centre
Sasquatch Sunset	Until 20th Jun	Warwick Arts Centre
A House in Jerusalem	Until 20th Jun	Warwick Arts Centre
Warwick Student Cinema	Until 28th Jun	University of Warwick

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🍔 Food, Markets & Socials

Event	Date	Venue
Darts Tournament	Tue 11th Jun 7pm	Sky Blue Tavern
Open Mic: Words & Music	Thu 13th Jun 6pm	Warwick Arts Centre
Gallery Late x Warwick Pride	Fri 14th Jun 6pm	Warwick Arts Centre

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🎵 Music

Event	Date	Venue
Lunchtime Concert	Thu 13th Jun 1pm	Warwick Arts Centre
Sink or Swim presents: Drahla + special guests	Thu 13th Jun 7:30pm	The Tin
The King's Voice	Fri 14th Jun 7pm	Rialto Plaza
Pulsar + Vertigo Flowers + Alys Rain	Fri 14th Jun 7pm	LTB Showrooms
Walk Right Back	Fri 14th Jun 7:30pm	Albany Theatre
The Mudsharks	Fri 14th Jun 8pm	Arches Venue
The Caroline Bomb	Fri 14th Jun 8pm	Commonground
Jake Edgar	Sat 15th Jun 9pm	LTB Showrooms
Summer Jams	Until 22nd Jun	HMV Empire
Jazz Fridays	Until 28th Jun	Warwick Arts Centre

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🗣 Poetry, Writing & Talks

Event	Date	Venue
Cheddar Gorgeous In Conversation with Ibi Profane	Fri 14th Jun 4pm	Warwick Arts Centre

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⚽️ Sport

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🎭 Theatre & Performance

Event	Date	Venue
TSG Legally Blonde	Thu 13th - Sat 15th Jun	Warwick Arts Centre
Eric Scutaro: Strike A Pose	Fri 14th Jun 12:30pm	Warwick Arts Centre
An Orphan's Dream	Fri 14th Jun 7pm	Albany Theatre

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🛠 Workshops & Classes

Event	Date	Venue
Introduction to Suminagashi Paper Marbling with The Handcrafted Hen	Sat 15th Jun 10:30am	Herbert Art Gallery & Museum
Songwriting	Until 25th Jun	Warwick Arts Centre
Adult Acting Classes (Thursday)	Until 4th Jul	Belgrade Theatre
Adult Acting Classes (Friday)	Until 5th Jul	Belgrade Theatre

Any events that we've missed? Drop them in the comments below!

Last year, when my ten year prison "stint" was finally up, and I re-entered society, I encountered some... obstacles.
Obstacles like.. Lack of upward mobility. Prejudices and stigmas. Wages and earnings lower than the general population. Undesirable and oftentimes dangerous jobs. And lack of protection from wrongful termination.
Not to mention, an already tough job market, and the fact that my parole required that I maintain steady employment, or face re-incarceration.
Which is why, when I finally got a job offer, after six months of aggressive job hunting, I jumped at the opportunity, giving absolutely no fucks as to how I was actually making ends meet.
"Ever operate a freight elevator before?" Mr. Winfred, the manager of "The Cornelius" and my new boss, asked me my first day on the job.
"No, sir." I replied honestly, as I ran my fingers along the doors of the antiquated contraption, the only remaining evidence of the recently renovated luxury building's ancient past.
"Normally these old things aren't used for passengers, but the building's pretentious designers thought it might add a certain charm to its otherwise sterile decor. Which is where you come in." He continued, as I heard him slide open the freight elevator's outside doors...
SLAM!
...Followed by its scissored metal inside doors.
SCREEEECH!
I heard Mr. Winfred step inside and, using my cane, scanned the interior of the rather large elevator, which must have been eight feet by eight feet, and followed him in.
Instantly, my nose was hit with an overpowering, musty scent, like the kind you'd smell in a basement, combined with your grandmother's attic.
He then closed both doors behind us.
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
"Now this here." Mr Winfred added, taking my hand and placing it on the handle of a lever, "Is how you move the elevator from floor to floor. Up for up. Down for down. You'll hear a click when you reach each floor, which will be helpful for someone like yourself." He said, clearly calling attention to the fact that I'm blind.
Someone like myself? I scoffed internally. You ignorant, entitled piece of shit.
Truth is, I've always had a bit of a short fuse. Which I guess, looking back on it, is what got me into prison in the first place.
But in my ten years of incarceration, I was given tools to combat my anger issues. Tools like reminding myself that it was nothing new. Assholes like him were always dropping unintentional microaggressions. It had been something I'd grown used to, and given my probation, wasn't a battle worth fighting.
"Yes sir." I replied through my teeth, as I begrudgingly swallowed my pride.
"Now, why don't you spend today practicing. Our first residents don't move in until tomorrow."
—
In just a matter of a week or so, as the doors of "The Cornelius" opened to its new tenants, I learned pretty much everything I needed to know about the job.
Said tenants were rich. Very rich. And most of them acted as such. Entitled. Obnoxious. Holier than thou. Especially given my own social class. But a few of them weren't so bad, and tipped well.
Mr. Winfred's assistant, Jane, was a lovely human being. Patient, kind, thoughtful, understanding. Especially when compared to both the building's uptight residents, and Mr. Winfred himself. It had been years since I had dated, and the very thought of meeting a partner stressed me out to no end, but if I was to find someone, I hoped she'd be like Jane.
The elevator didn't open on the basement level. As I'd learned countless times, it was possible to go there, but the doors simply wouldn't open.
The old freight itself was finicky as fuck. Stop the lever one second too early, or one second too late, and when the doors open, you're halfway between a floor. But eventually, I got used to it, to the point where most of the building's tenants assumed the role of freight operator had always been my job. And when you're good at your service job, and do it with a smile on your face, the tips start flowing.
And so, all was well for the first couple weeks on the job...
...A seemingly refreshing return to normalcy, after ten long years...
...Until...
...The disappearances started happening.
—
I was just arriving to work one day, when I heard about the first disappearance.
"Have you seen - I mean, have you been in contact with Elizabeth Davis? From room 401?" Mr. Winfred asked, after correcting himself. Something he did often, which continued to annoy me.
"Um." I replied, unsure of where he was going with the question. "Not since yesterday. She got back from work, and I brought her up to the fourth floor. But come to think of it, I don't think she rode the elevator down this morning. Like she usually does."
"Interesting." My boss replied, before continuing. "She disappeared yesterday."
"Disappeared?" I asked.
"Yeah, husband said she never came home last night."
"Hmm. Well I know for certain that I brought her to the fourth floor. Did you check the hallway surveillance footage?"
"Not yet. Unfortunately the building inspector's in today, and I won't have time until tomorrow. Let's hope she just went somewhere, or got lost. In the meantime, keep an eye out - I mean - just, let me know if you hear of anything suspicious."
"Yes sir," I replied, once again resisting the urge to snap on him, before heading for the elevator, where I started the day's shift.
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
That day, I did my best to do as Mr. Winfred had asked, and listened carefully for any signs of mischief.
But the day went on, business as usual and by the end of the day, I hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary...
...Except... The only thing of note was a difference in Mr. Lawrence's demeanor. The tenant of room 805, he was a salesman, and acted like one. When I say the man could talk, the man could talk. To a point where whenever he was a passenger in the old freight elevator, despite the long ride from floor one to floor eight, I'd rarely have a chance to get a word in.
But this time... was different. This time, Mr. Lawrence entered the elevator chatting away, just as he always did. But about halfway up, he just... stopped talking. And the thing about my job is, if someone chooses to talk or not talk, it's their decision, and none of my business. So I left him alone, and when we reached the eighth floor, I simply said goodnight. To which, he didn't reply.
Must be going through something. I thought to myself, having been unable to truly get a sense of his composure, without being able to see him, before closing the double doors and heading off to help the next passenger.
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
—
Later that night, Mr. Winfred called me into his office, and asked me to take a seat beside his assistant, Jane.
"Mr. Owens. Are you aware of the situation that's going on in the building?" He asked, in an interrogating tone.
"Um... yes, you told me about it yesterday. The disappearance, sir." I replied.
"Disappearances now. Plural." He said sternly.
"But... who else?" I asked.
"Mr. Lawrence."
"What happened to him?"
"Well, to be honest, I was hoping you could tell me. Cause much like Ms.Davis, the last place he was seen was going into your elevator."
"What about the cameras in the hallways?"
"I'm afraid that after reviewing the tapes, after stepping into your elevator, neither Ms. Davis, or Mr Lawrence, ever stepped out."
"But that's... not... possible."
"Mr. Owens. I'm going to give you an opportunity. Is there anything you want to tell me? I know you have a sordid past."
"Mr. Winfred!" Jane interjected, clearly offended by his words, and implications.
"Quiet, Jane." He scolded, before continuing. "Answer the question, Mr. Owens."
I didn't know what to say. I was so shocked, so flustered, by what he was implying, that I simply froze.
"Mr. Owens!" He screamed.
"I... I... don't know!" I cried out, as I heard Jane squirm in her seat. "I'm telling you, the last time I heard from either of them, I took them up to their floors. But I'm-"
"You're what! Blind?"
"Well, yes sir. I don't see what goes on inside the elevator. I just let them on and off."
"Mr. Owens. If they got on your elevator, and never got off, where could they possibly have gone?"
"I... don't... know." I replied, at this point, wanting to grab him by force, demand that he never speak to me that way again, and scream out my innocence. But my next parole appointment was the following week, so once again, all I could do was just bite my tongue.
Mr. Winfred paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and regained his composure.
"Mr. Owens, I could go to the police now. And that would be very bad for someone like you."
Fuck. He's right. I thought to myself, realizing, that if he went to the police, and I was even remotely suspected of what was going on in the building, it was back to prison for me.
"But lucky for you," He continued, "There are things going on in the building that I wouldn't want to bring unwanted attention to. And for that reason, I have decided not to go to the police... yet. But consider this a warning. And know, that I have a repairman coming first thing tomorrow morning to install a security camera inside the freight elevator, so I can see what exactly it is that you're doing in there."
I had know idea how to react to Mr. Winfred's continued accusations. So I simply remained silent.
"Now get out of here and go home! We'll reconvene on this tomorrow." He said dismissively, before Jane walked me out of the room, down the hall, and outside the building, where I planned to return home for the night.
—
Fifteen minutes later, we were at a bar down the street, where Jane apparently frequented.
"But where could they possibly have gone?" I asked her, my hands trembling at both the thought of people disappearing in the elevator, and that it was happening under my watch.
"Thing is," Jane said, as she finished her beer. "There's something you should know about the building."
""The Cornelius"?"
"No, from before it was called that. It used to be a factory of some kind."
"Is that what Mr. Winfred was talking about when he said that there were things going on in the building? That he didn't want to bring unwanted attention to?"
"Well, yes and no. Yes, in a sense, that Mr. Winfred cut some corners, and rather than fully renovate the entire warehouse, he simply walled off entire sections of the old structure. Like the basement."
"And no?"
"No, in a sense, that even Mr. Winfred doesn't know what's really going on in the elevator. Sure, it'd be easy to pin it on you, especially with your criminal record - no offense... but even he knows that it's probably something... else."
"Something else?"
"See, that's where things get hazy. Because no one knows what exactly went on at the factory, before it became "The Cornelius." But rumors have it... it was laboratory of some kind, and some fucked up shit went on inside there."
"Like what?"
"That, my friend. I don't know. But what I do know is... I better be getting to bed."
"Fair enough. Well, thanks for the drink, and the support." I said with a smile, as we made our way out of the bar.
"Yeah, don't let Mr. Winfred get to you. And try not to worry too much."
—
Contrary to Jane's suggestion, that night I worried... a lot. About the disappearances, what might be causing them, whatever may have gone on in the factory, and most importantly, about everything getting pinned on me.
I couldn't fall asleep, tossing and turning in bed as my mind raced. And each time I finally passed out, I'd wake up in a panic attack, my heart pounding, short of breath and in a cold sweat.
But it didn't stop there. The uncomfortable feeling of terror and fear, accompanied by the vibrating sensation of adrenaline pumping through my body, remained well into the next morning, when I stepped back into the elevator, terrified by what might be going on inside there.
Please don't leave me alone in this fucking thing. I thought to myself.
And within a matter of minutes, my prayers were answered.
"How goes it?" The surveillance installation worker called out, his cheery disposition contrary to mine.
"Um... not too bad." I replied, lying through my teeth, as he stepped inside.
But after a minute or two of sharing the elevator with him, my fears lessened and my body relaxed, comforted by the positive conversation, and the metallic, clinking sounds of the installation.
Everything's okay. The doors are open. And he's talking. I thought to myself.
But eventually, the man finished installing the camera, and began wrapping up the job.
"Well, that's it! Camera's all installed and running now." He called out. "Let's just take the elevator for a spin and make sure we don't lose the signal."
"Yes, of course." I replied, before reaching for the double doors...
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
..And moving the lever up.
We started moving.
"Fascinating job, I must say, elevator operator. But I suppose you could say the same for mine."
"Pays the bills." I replied, feigning a chuckle.
If he's here, and he's talking, then I'm safe. I continued to reassure myself.
But a few minutes into our ascent, just like Mr. Lawrence... the man... suddenly stopped talking.
"Alright, looks like it's working fine. We can head back down and-"
SILENCE.
"Hello?" I asked.
But he didn't respond.
Fuck. I thought to myself, realizing that whatever caused Ms. Davis, and Mr. Lawrence, and seemingly now the repairman to disappear, could still be in the elevator with me.
Standing there, shaking, sweat rolling down my brow, I backed myself into the corner of the elevator, as I reached for the lever, pressed it down, and the elevator began to make its descent back to the ground floor.
When I finally reached the lobby...
DING!
I scrambled to open the doors...
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
...And darted out, gasping for air, expecting to find a safe haven.
But instead, all I heard was the sound of Mr. Winfred's voice. "Where is the repairman?"
—
A few minutes later, I was once again sitting in Mr. Winfred's office, next to Jane, this time attempting to explain what had happened.
"...And then he stopped talking! Just like Mr. Lawrence."
"You know what, Mr. Owens. I'm tired of your excuses. And now that we have a working camera in the elevator, it's time to find out what's really going on inside there." He threatened, as I heard him clicking away on his computer, clearly reviewing the footage.
"Please do!" I cried out, "I'm telling you, it's not me."
That's when... Mr. Winfred, and Jane, both went silent.
"Hello?" I called out, unable to see what was really going on. Given the fact that my passengers had recently been going silent, the thought crossed my mind that they too had disappeared, but I could still hear their breathing in the room. Breathing, that sounded like it was increasing rapidly...
...Until they broke the silence.
"Oh... my..." Jane said, struggling to catch her breath.
"That can't be. Let me rewind the tape." Mr. Winfred mumbled, the most scared I had ever heard him.
"What is it?" I asked, as they seemingly played back the video.
I would later find out from Jane that the footage would show myself and the repairman in the elevator, as a slithering, grotesque, humanoid figure, suddenly climbed down from the roof of the elevator, wrapped it's slimy arms around the repairman, then somehow hopped back out of the elevator, and pulled the man up with it. Leaving me standing there, completely unaware of what had just happened.
But in that moment, Mr. Winfred must have realized the... complications associated with reporting such a bizarre phenomenon, and instead decided to finally pin it on me.
"Mr. Owens, you shouldn't have done that!" He cried out.
"Mr. Winfred, what are you talking about?" Jane asked, "You and I just watched the same footage."
That's when I heard him drag a file to his computer's trash and delete it.
CRUNCH.
"Stay out of this, Jane. This man has killed three people in the elevator. I knew I shouldn't have hired an ex con!"
"But sir, I didn't-" I tried to reply, before he interrupted.
"Mr. Owens, I'm picking up the phone, and calling the police. I'd suggest you just stay put."
"But Mr. Winfred, I'm telling you, I didn't do anything!"
"Yes, is this 911? I'm the manager of "The Cornelius" and I'd like to report three murders in my building."
"We'd better go." I heard Jane say, as I felt her place her hand on my shoulder.
"And yes, I have reason to believe the killer is our elevator operator, an ex convict, who is sitting right in front of me."
"Come on, let's go!" Jane screamed, as she tugged at my shirt, I hopped up from my seat, and she led me out of the office, down the hall, and into... of all places... the old freight elevator, as she explained to me what she had seen on the surveillance tape.
—
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
"Take us to the basement!" Jane called out.
"But the basement is walled off." I replied.
"Just do it!" She insisted, before I moved the lever down and the elevator began to move.
I spent the ride catching my breath, until we finally reached the basement level.
DING!
"Now what?" I asked.
But Jane didn't reply.
"Jane?"
Oh fuck. I thought to myself. The monster.
That's when I turned to the center of the freight elevator, where Jane had been standing, reached out into the unknown...
...And sure enough, felt the cold, slimy, skin of the creature, wrapped around Jane's face, preventing her from making a sound.
Not knowing what else to do, I gripped its disgusting appendages with both hands, and slowly pried it off Jane, as she let out a...
...SCREAM..
...And the monster's arm quickly slithered away, back up through the roof of the freight.
Jane dropped to the ground, coughing violently.
"You okay?" I asked her.
But rather than responding, she simply handed me something...
....I opened my fist, to find a pair of keys.
"The lock above the lever. Unlock it." She instructed, still coughing, as I felt around the lever, found the lock, inserted the key, and unlocked it.
CLICK.
"The doors. They should open now." Jane said, as she stood up, having finally caught her breath.
SCREEEECH!
SLAM!
—
We arrived in the dark basement to smell the same, musty odor from the freight elevator.
After her eyes adjusted and she scanned our surroundings, Jane informed me that this floor looked nothing like the other eight, newly renovated floors, with their modern feel and minimalistic designs.
Instead, the basement was a window into the building's former self, when it had been a factory. Its walls brick and crumbling, its floors concrete and cracked.
And scattered everywhere, were the dusty remnants of laboratory equipment. Devices, machines, tanks, most of which were destroyed, or disconnected, or both.
"What went on down here?" I asked.
"From the looks of it, something inhumane," Jane said, after she picked up a few tattered pieces of paper from one of the lab stations, and told me what was on it.
"The first page looks like some sort of a diagram, of a man being pumped with chemicals from tanks. And the second, a drawing... of the creature from the elevator. In pencil beside it, someone appears to have labeled it "The Silencer.""
Silencer. I thought to myself, before remembering that the creature seemed to always silence the sounds of its victims, and to have been repulsed by Jane's scream. At the same time, it had never bothered me in the elevator, as I tended to stand there in silence.
But before I could dwell too much on the thought, Jane interrupted.
"If you don't mind my asking. What did you go to prison for in the first place?" She asked.
"It's okay," I said, surprised she had waited this long to ask, before contemplating the best way to explain what had happened. "’Cause of my temper. Some guy was being a dick on the train platform. We got into a scuffle, and he accidentally fell into the tracks."
"Over what? Did he insult you? Your blindness?"
"No, I'm afraid not." I replied, "We were drunk... and arguing over... a basketball game, of all things. He was... my friend."
"Oh my God. I'm so sorry."
"It's okay."
Jane put her hand on my shoulder, and we stood there in silence for a moment...
...Until suddenly, we heard the sound of Mr. Winfred, and the police approaching, as they ran down what must have been a hidden set of stairs from the ground level to the basement.
"Come on, follow me!" Jane called out, as she took me by the hand and led me into what I'd soon discover was a labyrinthian network of old passages, while the police and Mr. Winfred both called out to us.
"This is the police! Put your hands on your head, and turn yourself in!"
"You're trapped, Mr. Owens! Just confess your crimes, and you'll simply go back to jail!"
We continued to run deeper and deeper into the passages, as our pursuers began to close in on us, their footsteps getting closer... and closer... and closer...
...Until suddenly, the sound of their footsteps was replaced by that of...
...SCREAMING...
...And they suddenly went...
...SILENT.
"What the?" Jane whispered.
"The creature." I whispered. "It must be down here."
That's when we hatched a plan.
—
Having found our way out of the labyrinth and back to the entrance of the laboratory, where we had arrived in the old freight elevator, I found myself standing alone, waiting, as I nervously tapped my cane on the basement floor, Jane having gone off on her own.
That's when I heard Mr. Winfred emerge from the passages, alone, and call out to me.
"Mr. Owens! There's nowhere to run! Even your beloved elevator is gone. You're cornered." He taunted, as I backed towards the elevator and tapped at it with my cane, its doors open, its shaft empty.
"What did you say?" I asked, encouraging him to talk louder.
"What are you, deaf now too?" The ignorant old man snapped back. "I said, you have nowhere to run!"
"I'm sorry, you'll have to forgive me," I said sarcastically, pointing to my ears. "Can you repeat that again?"
That's when Mr. Winfred began approaching and screamed, "You worthless, ex con! I knew I shouldn't have hired you in the first place! And now, you'll go back to where you belong!"
But suddenly...
...Mr. Winfred went SILENT...
...As the creature must have wrapped its slimy tentacles around his face.
That's when I seized the opportunity, ran over to Mr. Winfred, gripped the cold body of the creature, which was indeed wrapped around him, turned, and flung them both behind me, into the hollow elevator shaft...
SLAM!
...Before hitting the "Up" button on the wall, and calling the freight elevator down.
Suddenly, the gears of the elevator above could be heard turning away, and the machine began its quick descent down.
"Mr. Owens, no!" Mr. Winfred cried out, clearly now separated from the creature.
I froze for a moment, as my mind raced back to the night of the tragic accident, when my friend called out to me from the train tracks, and I was unable to save him in time...
....Until I eventually snapped myself out of it, and willed myself to save Mr. Winfred, no matter how evil the asshole's intentions may have been, reaching out my hand out, and pulling him up and out of the elevator, just as the freight car came crash down to the basement level.
SLAM!
CRUNCH!
"RAAAAAAAARRRRR!" The slimy beast cried out, as it was crushed under the old elevator's weight.
DING!
The basement fell SILENT for a moment, until...
SCREEEECH!
SLAM!
...Jane stepped out and said, "Going up?"
But the joke was met was silence. I simply stood there, shaking, as Mr. Winfred did the same, clearly shocked by the events that had just occurred.
—
A few weeks later, after the authorities had done a full sweep of the basement, and cleared out all traces of the building' old laboratory, I found myself once again back in the manager's office.
"Mr. Owens. This is the last time I'm gonna tell you this!" Jane joked, as I heard her recline back in what was once Mr. Winfred's chair, having been named interim manager since her boss's recent and... ironic... prison sentencing.
"Who's the convict now?" I said with a smile, before making my way out of the office.
"Wait." Jane said, stopping me at the door. "You sure you want to go back to operating the elevator? After all that's happened? Like I said, the doorman job is yours if you want it."
"What's the worst that could happen?" I replied with a smile. "There's another one of those creatures in the building somewhere?"

An interesting look at internal martial arts and strength from Hai Yang - "One should not claim to practice martial arts if their strength is insufficient":
https://youtu.be/TTccQaPyv6g?si=fCUuagyLjLbsB73m
Hai Yang - One should not claim to practice martial arts if their strength is insufficient.
You may recognize a similar assertion from Ellis Amdur with regards to Aikido practitioners in "Great Aikido —Aikido Greats":
"Yukawa Tsutomu was a titan. Shirata Rinjiro was immensely strong. Shioda Gozo, unbelievably, beat Kimura Masahiko in arm wrestling—by Kimura’s own account. Tohei Koichi, post WWII, casually carried two suitcases full of smuggled rice arms-length over ticket wickets at train stations, thereby pretending that the cases were empty: because who could casually hold suitcases with 30 kilos of rice apiece, straight-armed, walking fifty meters until out of sight of law enforcement personnel. When Saito Morihiro was a kid, Ueshiba told him he was too skinny; Saito, working for the railroad, got a length of train track, and repetitively lifted it, this thick-grip weight training and other exercises resulting in him becoming a massive man. In fact, all the Iwama dinosaurs (Isoyama Hiroshi, Watahiki Yoshifumi, Inagaki Shigemi, to name a few) are immensely powerful. Tada Hiroshi is like living whalebone, from all the suburi he did. Tomiki Kenji had huge wrists and when young, a massive neck. Osawa Kisaburo, quite muscular as a young man, asked me to take his son, Osawa Hayato, to Korakuen gym and teach him weight lifting, genially whispering to me in the dojo hallway, “He’s too weak.” There’s more than one body type and more than one way to be physically powerful—but as far as I know, all the great aikidoka were very powerful people, some naturally, others a product of training."
https://kogenbudo.org/great-aikido-aikido-greats/
And what about the Daito-ryu folks?
Well, Daito-ryu Aiki-jujutsu Menkyo Kaiden Takuma Hisa was, of course, a Sumo wrestler and very powerful physically.
Then there's Daito-ryu Aiki-jujutsu Kodokai founder Kodo Horikawa:
"Was Horikawa Sensei in good physical condition?
Mrs. Horikawa: He had a smaller body, but his muscles were impressive and well toned. He injured his Achilles' tendon once, but apparently it healed, since it was three times as thick as a normal person's. A normal person's would have been snapped. His whole body was filled with aiki, even to the soles of his feet."

• Conversations with Daito-ryu Masters, Stanley Pranin

Then there's Yukiyoshi Sagawa, the one time Soke of Daito-ryu Aiki-jujutsu, Yukiyoshi Sagawa himself was powerfully conditioned:
"The most important thing in Aiki is the legs. You must build muscle in the necessary areas of the hips and legs through training the legs in “Henko”."
"In Age-te, the most important thing is building the body."
"The way that I built my body was through push-ups. From the time that I was a teenager I would train 1,500 times a day. Through that it became possible for my body to become a single unit. This is not limited to push-ups, but it is important to continue each physical training method for at least three years. Suburi, for example."
"It’s no good if you don’t have thick thighs. Conditioning yourself and becoming strong means that you’re building muscle."
"The muscle on your hips and abdomen must be thick and you must begin to move from there. Technique done with slim hips will not be effective. However, thickness from fat is no good."
"Aiki no Rentai: The Conditioned Body of Yukiyoshi Sagawa, Part 2":
https://www.aikidosangenkai.org/blog/aiki-rentai-conditioned-body-yukiyoshi-sagawa-part-2/
So here's the tricky part - power lifters, gymnasts, marathon runners, dancers, and even musicians are all strong, but have very different bodies, trained and conditioned in very different ways, that optimize their performance for different practices - their strength and body development are specific to what they're doing. It's a no brainer that conditioning is going to be sports specific - so what's specific for Aiki, and what do you do to get there?

So while my voice isn't perfect, people now say miss when I answer the phone but when we get into the conversation and I use full sentences sometimes strangers who started with miss go to Mr. My tone prononciation ect have changed from when I greeted them, is there differences in word choice used between genders? And if so where can I find resources on this

tl;dr: You can dodge the fireball spread mechanic by standing on the inside of the "C" shape they are in.
I've seen a lot of people post about the Outlaw Sharpshooter boss being overtuned but the main problem mechanic it has isn't very well telegraphed or intuitive. The shadow boss casting the cone of small fireballs is essentially the only dangerous mechanic in the fight and will almost always one-shot you if it hits you. However, that's because you already failed the mechanic before it hit you.
First, you can see where the shadow boss will be spawning based on the flaming pentagram that appears on the ground at various times. If you know it's going to be the inquisitor or just aren't sure, be close enough to it so you can react when you see what the mechanic is.
Second, the shadow boss will create a spread of fireballs in a C shape. The outer side of the C is the safe side:
Safe > C < Unsafe
The fireballs will always launch towards the reverse direction they appear in, or the "inside" of the C. If you are outside the C, you are safe.
Third, if you are in the unsafe side of the spread already but are close enough, you can run through and eat the fireballs BEFORE they launch for a fairly tolerable amount of damage, even multiple of them.
The fireballs do more damage the further they have traveled or depending on the speed they are traveling (not really clear on this, I just know if they have been launched and are going full speed you will almost always die), so you want to prioritize not being in the danger area firstly and then eating one or two if you are on the unsafe side instead and are able to.
Every other mechanic in the fight is able to be failed without being one-shot and generally shouldn't be an issue for more mobile classes. I don't play Sorc or Necro enough to know if there is more nuance for them with it, but I would guess the fireball cone mechanic is still the only thing actually deadly in the fight.
Additionally, later on in a fight you will definitely have to spend time just dodging mechanics instead of only DPSing the boss. If the boss teleports to a weird spot or against a wall, it's usually better to move to a safer location and let the boss move into the open again. This applies to any boss in The Pit essentially, as the lower their health is the more AOEs the game will spam at you, and it's better to spent 10 seconds dodging and recuperating than getting knocked into a tornado puddle and instantly dying.
Context: I'm new to the game, started playing 6 or 7 days ago and so far reached Pit 73, so I don't know if this is already widely known information but I assume it's not based on the number of posts I've seen here about this boss. I've killed the Outlaw Sharpshooter on tier 67 multiple times with both whirlwind dust devil barb (don't do this, lol) and thorns barb with ~35k life which I would assume is probably an average or even low amount of life for this and it's probably doable with less as long as you are paying attention and properly dodging mechanics. Almost nothing in the fight can actually hit you except the boss's normal auto attacks.

Hey! Im 30 male from Canada. I know some of you guys might think I'm a dinosaur but I can assure you I'm not. I would say I'm pretty chill overall, have an easy personality and get along with most people. I work full time, like to travel and watch/play sports as well. Due to my nature of work I do have time to chat often so would love to chat with some people on here!
What am I looking for? All I ask is that you're a female (sorry guys), over the age of 18 and can hold a conversation. Don't care where you in the world, any time zone is fine. Let me know what your favourite place to travel is so I know you read this post! Look forwarding to hearing form you :)

This was originally posted by u/ObjectivePea516 and u/RhinoRev40 who posted to relationship_advice
Original Post May 2nd, 2024
u/ObjectivePea516
My boyfriend of 9 months purchased a home and said he bought it with “me” in mind as we have talked about a future and wanting to have a family. We have had many serious talks about our relationship and we’ve both met each other’s families. He previously lived in a home for several years and has always thought about changing his living situation and also wasn’t sure if he even wanted to stay to live in the same city. To my surprise, he went to see a house without me knowing and put in an offer. Long story short his offer was accepted and he’s made comments about how he thought about this house for us eventually. I’m not sure how to feel about it, I’m really happy that he got a house he really likes and at the price he got it for. But I feel we’re not there yet to move in with each other. Also, in no way did I have a say in the decision of this house or the location so I don’t think him to say he got the house with “me” in mind is fair. He hasn’t considered the commute for me to travel to work or anything that would be considered specifically to actually having me in mind. He bought this home one block away from his previous house as he will be renting out that home now, so this home by default is a great location for him overall. I’m not sure how to feel about his comments and his expectations with me and the house.
Additionally, I am a student and the closing of his house happened to be the very busiest week of exams and assignments I had due. We had conversations about how I could not help him move and there seemed to be an understanding, that week consisted of working on a presentation, studying for an exam and working on a paper. Any other free time I had I invested in self care such as working out or doing yoga. However, on one of those days I posted a selfie where I was proud to have accomplished so much in the morning before going into work and he got extremely upset about this. He went on to say I didn’t care to help him move and that I didn’t want to help him move essentially and made a huge deal about it as he bought this house with “me” in mind. What do you think of this?
Edit to give more context:
​

• The house was bought entirely with his money. I have zero financial contribution to this.

​

• We never talked about a specific time frame when I would move in. It was a discussion about how it’s something we both would want eventually

​

• We did talk about how I would contribute when that time comes, in which I mentioned expenses such as hydro, utilities, internet etc..I also made it clear that in no way was I expecting a free ride and not to contribute anything. That’s just not my character.

​

• The selfie that was posted was a close up shot of my face with sunglasses on and enjoying my coffee! I had made a list of accomplishments of tasks I did that day and wrote it in this picture: “meal prep ✅, work out ✅, coffee ✅, sunshine ✅… great way starting my day so far!”

UPDATE: How would you feel if your boyfriend (M38) of 9 months purchases a home and says it’s for you (F34)? We Broke Up! May 17, 2024
Original post
https://www.reddit.com/relationship_advice/s/qlMCWJePi8
I realized that when we talked about the reality of me moving in with him, I mentioned that I could sell all my furniture but would want and need to keep my desktop computedesk, his response to me was that he wouldn’t let me have my own room for that and to get a laptop instead. The man has an entire room dedicated to his sneakers. When I also mentioned the commute and how I’d have to pay for parking, as I take the subway to work currently, (not a big deal in comparison to paying for the mortgage, but still an expense) he said there could be days he could drive me, then followed it up with “but you don’t ever drive me to work”.
He did not buy the house with “me” in mind at all. It’s clear that this is HIS house and he wasn’t going to share his space in any other way besides how he wanted it.
We had plans for me to come over on a specific day but had also fought. I admitted and apologized that I could have put my anger aside and came to help. However, I wanted reassurance that he understood that if I have my own priorities and we discussed this, he cannot throw it in my face and tell me I did not meet his needs. I’m not saying of course that in any in case I would not drop something for my partner in an emergency. I did not feel that he understood this. And when I tried to explain this he said that I was “retracting my apology”..I just kept feeling constantly misunderstood and having to defend myself in this relationship with other issues as well. That was the end of that. Better to cut it off sooner than later and before taking the relationship to the next level of commitment. It definitely sucks.
AND I showed him this thread in which he of course was upset, says he felt betrayed. He called me “entitled” as he thinks I am saying I he bought it FOR me, which I am not in any way. He’s missing the point for this post in which I think he doesn’t want to take accountability for not acknowledging he was wrong for throwing it in my face. The main point was guilt tripping and using the “I bought it with you in mind” response. Because clearly, even if the commute was not in mind (currently, I live in an expensive area so to not buy a house here is a valid point), the ability to actually live with him was not with me in mind! He really absolutely did not care about me as a person and my needs or even can understand what a real relationship is. He skimmed through all 565 comments and screenshotted the best ones that validated him and sent them to me to prove, he’s a “good guy”.
MY SIDE: My ex ( 36 not 34F) made a post saying I ( 42/M) told her I bought her house and has blocked me from commenting. How about I share some context? May 18th, 2024
u/RhinoRev40
Her post: https://www.reddit.com/relationship_advice/s/ooTwyFNwWk She only showed me this a few days ago, but for the past couple of weeks my now ex gf has been curating the truth to extract as much validation as she can from this situation, and has prevented me from commenting or sharing my side.
She admits that I actually said - that I bought a house with us in mind. I did say that. When i first met her, I was moving away to LA. I had already lived in a home that was paid off for 12 years, but when i met her; i decided that maybe it's best and continue to build a life here, and should things work out, we could figure out a future together.
I had been looking at the market and one day, an amazing house came on the block, for 300k less than it was a months ago. I pounced and went to see it. That night i told her i saw a place, i even sent her the photos and said, i'm going to place an offer, which i did.
She seemed to love the place and see how much of an upgrade it would be from my current place - this is a 2M house, with 4 bathrooms, 3 bedrooms, 2 living rooms and most importantly, a garage as my cars kept getting stolen since i didn't have one at my current place.
There was never mention of us moving in together right away, at the time we were together for 6 months, wayyyy too soon. We weren't even saying "i love you yet" - and i did say that once actually, and she just didn't return it anyways.
That being said, since we spend 95%% of our time sleeping at my place when we see each other once a week, figure this would be good for us, and when it is time, we could move in together there and go from there.
She loved the place, from what she said, this was supposed to be a positive.
Now let's rewind though.
3 months into the relationship, she asked to borrow 4000$. I was not comfortable with it, but as usual, she made herself seem so much in need, that I couldn't say no and just break up with her there, but now I realize i should have. She guilted me sayinf that couples have to work together and be there for each other and all that jazz.
The fact is, within those first 3 months, i had brought her to LA while i had to be there on business and the total cost of the week that she was there was around 3K. Then, over xmas, we went to another city, another 2-3K, as well as a punta cana vacation for 7K. So after all that is when she decided to ask me, and you don't need to be a genius to realize thst she chose me because clearly, she pinned me as having the money to.
Had this been my wife or long term gf, this wouldn't of been an issue, but 3 months in - this was a big flag and i talked to her about it. As usual, and as a pattern throughout this relationship, she would get extremely angry, lose her cool and make me feel bad for "questioning her character".
So, fast forward to me actually moving into this house over a 3 week period. She helped none whatsoever, never offered and my own family, friends, and people who were working at the house asked me about it apl the time. Oh she has school, oh she texts me though and so on. Completely MIA until of course friday or saturday night where she wanted to go for dinners or go to shows - that we did, of course.
One day, once her exams had tailed down and she told me she was waking up early to write a photo, i saw that she posted a sunshine kissed selfie saying: yoga! Meal prep! Coffee! Sunshine!
And i wrote her privately: " you know, i feel you could have at least offered to help in some way today". Again, she loses it, tells me : " you know you don't have to tell me something just because it bothers you" and then eventually she says, and i will never forget this ever : " don't you think you're expecting a little much of me for 7/8 months of dating"?
I was shocked. For some reason, pressuring your bf for a 4000$ loan 3 months in, but offering help in any way over a 3 week period is too much.
I called it off, decided i don't need her and this relationship wouldn't work with this set of values we don't share.
A couple of days later, after trying whatever she could to flip this whole fight on me, constantly chaging the goal post as a pattern i had identified and made her aware of repeatedly over those 7/8 months, she eventually showed up unannounced, apologizing profusely, and apparently seeming to genuinely recognize that it wasn't right, and she could have offered.
I took some of the responsibility once she did, and said that maybe, i could have been more direct as to when and how.
We resolved, we started to laugh again, this was a fight that we would "learn from" we both said.
Well, last week we disagreed for another simple issue, and she blew up as she does, yelling, calling my life chaotic, calling me eveything she can think of, and then says she resents me for wanting her to help with the house when she had exams!
Basically she took back the apology fully and stormed out of the house, i did not chase her. I did not text her, and i did not want to negotiate at all anymore.
The next morning she said she acted like that because i told her she was fucked. Tbh, i don't remember saying that, but i probably did as she was having a massive blow up.
I apologized for saying that she is fucked because afterall, whatever i do is in my control and tried my very best to get her to see that blowing up like that, is her behavior to be accountable for.
That's when she shared the original thread... again - no words, shocked that for a couple of weeks in the background she had been farming all these comments about me, sharing our personal stuff and curating it in a way to make herself look like, you guessed it, a "victim" whose boyfriend "bought her a house"?
We met off hinge. She asked to borrow 3K from me 3 months in, and I told her since then that it just didn't look good at all, and I'd hate to have something like that i couldn't even share with my friends / family.
The facts are that she only shared as the relationship went on:

• she is over 40k in debt

​

• Got fired from her nursing job because the educator had it in for her

​

• Missed out on receiving funding from the school because of their online portal

​

• Wasn't able to apply to graduate because the school didn't let her know properly

​

• Hates her parents even though they gabe her a car, paid for her exams and other failed attempts at schooling in the past

​

• Told me that her last relationship was "toxic" and she didn't see a future with him but stayed with him for 3 years and when they broke up, he threatened to jump off their building, same building she currently lives in - where 1 bedroom costs more than my previous mortage did for the 12 years that i paid it.

Overall, yes i had reason to play it slow with her. I didn't want her moving in on a technicality, or making me responsible for all her bills or getting trapped if things didn't work out.
I didn't buy her a house, i bought my house, in cash, paid in full and she was well aware that.
I bought a house because I had settling down in my current city in mind after meeting and had hoped it would work out.
But here she is complaining about if she would have an office in it, for...nursing?
A shoe room? I have 25 pairs of shoes in a closet. The spare bedroom would be for a baby's room, possibily if my future half is comfortable with that. Discussions would be had but i realized that discussions would never be had with her.
She has rage in her mind, a wild sense of entitlement and at present time is currently getting evicted from her apartment, and has no full time job but all the time in the world to make reddit posts for validation.
This problem is solved, she is not going to move in, and i am accountable for my house and hope she becomes accountable for "her house".
I welcome any comments / questions but i know I was dealing with a highly problematic person who will never truly realize her ways.
I am not the original poster. Please don't contact or comment on linked posts

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WaveOfWire Edits :D
- - - - -
Harrison’s vision was still foggy from waking up, several blinks failing to clear the tears from his drawn-out yawn. He just escaped the encompassing embrace of his four-armed guardian, leaving their shared bed for the bathroom, where he would have to say goodbye to his beard. If he was going to travel out of the settlement, a proper seal on his gas mask was a must.
It was a shame. The slow buildup of the hair over the last month or so was a representation of his growth in a way, building up alongside his experiences in this hellhole, be they life-threatening or informative. It was almost like wiping the slate clean, even if cutting some chin scruff didn’t really change anything at all—he’d never be able to forget anything he had seen here for as long as he lived.
And there was no telling how long that’d be.
The engineer sighed, splashing the lukewarm barracks water into his face from one of the many wall-attached sinks, allowing him to fully open his eyes and size up the damage done to his favorite black blood-and-sweat-stained t-shirt. It always stayed in good condition with washing and fabricator repairs, but somehow Shar’s talons always found a way to make small holes in it. She wasn’t trying to, but with the way she fully wrapped her arms around him, the tips of her sharp fingers sometimes ended up poking into the fabric and causing some cuts.
It was such a small issue that he never considered bringing it up to her. Plus, she’d probably do her whole guilty talon-tapping thing with puppy eyes and all… He shook his head, letting the stray beads of water on his face drip into the sink.
His palm ran across his beard while his other hand reached for the razor. There wasn’t any shaving cream or the like, but he’d make do. At least he had one of the proper tools for the job. He went into the task, the blade driving through his scruff, slopping off wide areas of his hair from jaw to chin for a few seconds before it was interrupted.
A short ‘woosh’ of the entrance caught his attention.
“Aww, you’re shavin’ it off?” Tracy commented dejectedly through a yawn, the lazy drawl reinforcing the fact that she just woke up. “Th’ beard was sorta growin’ on me.”
He eyed her through the mirror, his voice coming out in a dull tone. “Yeah. I feel the same.”
She squinted under the bright bathroom lights, rubbing an eye with her wrist as she walked up to the sink beside him and started her own morning routine. “Mmm… Womp womp. Why though?”
“Need it to get a gas mask seal,” he stated flatly, focusing on the task at hand.
The technician stopped momentarily, the gears turning in her head before she gave him a downcast frown. “You’re still set on going for the vehicle bay? You know we can just send some long-range drones out there, right?”
His short exhale echoed throughout the tiled room. The engineer closed his eyes, already mentally withdrawn from the conversation. They've had this discussion twice now. “It’s to be better prepared for any chemical, biological, or radiological surprises that might come up—not just for the excursion. Even more importantly, there’s no guarantee the module is in perfect shape. If I’m there in person, I’ll have the means to get through anything for those blueprints. Plus, it should only be four days, so the only issues we have are my beard and finding a way to protect the Malkrin from the radiation while we’re out.”
Tracy looked like she wanted to say something back, but bit her lip and cast her eyes down at the sink in front of her, twisting the knob before mumbling a quiet response. “I don’t think you need to protect them from radiation at all…”
“Hmm?”
She stared at him meekly, his dismissal of her worries having clearly dampened her mood. Guilt tugged at the back of his mind before her words further caught his interest. “I think they’re immune… or resistant or something. Radiation immunity is the whole reason they were sent here. You’ve added up the pieces together too, right?”
He stared down at her, running a hand through his hair with tired exasperation depressing his voice. “Tracy, I’ve been trying my hardest to just make it another day on this God-forsaken planet, not dig into their religion. So, no. I have not spent the time to add up the pieces. Enlighten me, please.”
“…S-Sorry. I just, you know, get a lot of time to think when working on drones, and Cera has been drawing all kinds of representations of these things.” Tracy paused, gesturing toward the engineer. “Okay, so you remember the whole backstory for why the Malkrin are on the mainland in the first place?”
“Pseudo-eugenics?” he commented dryly.
“Yeah.” She nodded, a sense of excitement leaking into her voice. “And what were the parameters of banishing someone?”
“Not getting sick from a rock.”
She eyed him feverishly, brows raised with a sudden zeal. “Aaaaand that rock represented the Sky Goddess’ wrath, which did what?”
“Uhhh…” He looked upward in thought, recalling his conversation with the paladin. “I think Shar mentioned nausea, vomiting, blisters, skin melting… off…” He froze, the pieces forming. “Wait, you don’t think…”
“I do. Those symptoms could mean a lot of things, but the anomaly field was the real kicker. You know that Shar just straight up didn’t have any lingering radiation effects or anything while you were nearly put… six feet under…” Her voice quieted momentarily, the speed of her speech outpacing her train of thought. “Sorry. Um… so, I was gonna say that she, uh, I mean the scanner mentioned she had damage from ‘alpha particles’ on her skin, but nothing else happened to her organs or anything.”
Harrison squinted at her for a moment, mouth slightly opened and prepared to give some alternative reasoning besides ‘immunity.’ Maybe her armor protected her from it? No… she didn’t even have full protection, radiation would have certainly gotten around her eyes or snout. What about her height? What if… No.
He didn’t just want to believe that somehow the Malkrin could just evade a force of nature, but he didn’t have any way of proving or disproving it on hand… Well, no humane way of testing it.
“I… guess?” the engineer grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Even then, they still need armor and gas masks. The worst part of the radiation isn’t even the ionizing part. It’s the trace elements that get into your lungs and decay there. So it doesn’t hurt to use some CBRN filters.”
“Fair… but it’s interesting, isn’t it?” Tracy beamed. “Like, what kind of evolutionary factors lead to radiation immunity? Why do only some of the Malkrin have it and others don’t?”
The only real cause of radiation he could think of would be a massive nuclear proliferation of some sort. Maybe the anomalies? He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the lingering thoughts away. “I wouldn’t know. You could always ask Sebas to bring up some papers about it or generate some theories when you get the chance.”
“I probably will at some point… Maybe while I’m working.” She poked him in the bicep. “You’re still helping me with the mule, right?”
He bobbed his head, loose beard hairs itching up his chin. “Sure am. Gimme a bit to shave and test the fifty-cal ammo, then I’ll be free to assist.”
“Kay Kay.” The tradeswoman smiled and returned to the sink, washing her face.
- - - - -
“What the hell did you do to your shield?” a stunned Harrison asked the paladin, his face scrunching up in concern… and confusion.
Sharky proudly held up her once grungy orange shield with a smile, looking at its new… paint job? “Artificer Tracy has s—n to imbue my bulwark with the crest of the Sky Goddess herself! Observe the b—utiful wings that cover it!”
The engineer had just got back from setting up and overseeing the automated mule’s first excursion to the mine and back. It was a grueling task, requiring him to reset its pathing several times before it was able to make a round trip without input. Now, the maroon-skinned Malkrin in front of him had apparently gotten her massive aegis laser imprinted with crossing wings in the two hours or so he’d been gone. The areas between the black feather decals were colored with white and blue paints, contrasting with the new dark gray background.
A small weight was placed on his shoulder, Tracy’s forearm suddenly appearing atop it despite her being nearly a foot shorter than him. She beamed, staring up at him with all-too-proud eyes. “The scout regiment symbol looks good on it, right? Cera helped me with the laser engraving.”
“I…” His brows raised in perplexity. “The scout regiment?”
She shrugged, watching the paladin observe her shield from all sorts of different angles underneath the workshop’s light fixtures. “From an anime I used to watch. Men and women who were sent out to battle against massive titans for the greater good of the last settlement of humanity. Somewhat fitting, and fuckin’ awesome on her big-ass shield! Matches the bird’s wings on her armor too.”
He loudly sighed. “You wasted materials on imprinting wings on Shar’s shield? Really?”
“Hey!” Her brows furrowed into faux-annoyance, a smug grin betraying it. “It’s not a waste if you were never gonna use the paint we had on hand. Plus, we’ve got energy to spare with all the wind turbines and power cells you’ve been printing out.”
“Those paints probably could have been used for important designations… or something…” he grumbled.
“Doesn’t matter.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Anyway, want me to put some scary teeth or something on that big ‘ol fist-sized muzzle break on your shotgun?”
“No?” he took an incredulous step away from her, letting her arm fall off his shoulder and to her side.
“It’s okay to admit you’re jealous of Shar’s awesome decals, bro,” Tracy teased, her smugness growing tenfold. “No need to get defensive.”
He groaned, figuring there wasn’t a point in staying to bicker with the tradeswoman, leaving the two vanity-focused females to their devices. He still had to figure out how to fabricate armor and gas masks for the Malkrin and himself.
“Hey! Where ya goin?” the technician called out, clearly disappointed that he hadn’t indulged in her taunts.
“Work.”
Short taps against the hard floor sounded out as she caught up to him. She leaned forward and curiously looked up at him as she walked, holding her hands behind the small of her back. “What kind? Can I help?”
“Just need to take some measurements and compare options. Right… Speaking of which.” He turned around and cupped his palms around his mouth. “Hey Shar! Get over here, I need your help!”
The addressed Malkrin perked up, snapping out of the small haze of admiring her new shield and happily making her way toward him. She stood at attention, her tail oscillating side to side. “What n—d do you have of me?”
“Just a quick task,” he briefed her, grabbing some measuring tape from his desk… that Tracy had decided was her new chair. He sighed and turned his attention back to the paladin. “Can I bother you to lean down for a few seconds while I take some measurements?”
“Of course. Pl—se, take your time.” She stepped forward and kneeled, her head brought down to his height. Her face wore that simple content look he was growing all too accustomed to by now—slightly vibrating frills, a little curl upward of her lips, and warmly glowing eyes.
He wasted no time getting to work, noting down the various distances around her jaws, snout, eyes, and ears, already piecing together how he could cobble together some gas mask designs to fit the dimensions. She sat there quietly, sometimes leaning into the accidental head scratches adorably. It contrasted heavily with the cold-sweat-inducing layers of razor-sharp teeth within her muzzle as he measured the angle her maw opened at, bringing an idle curiosity prodded his mind.
“Say, Shar, do your teeth grow back if they fall out?” he poked, absently observing the dozens of triangular bone protrusions in her mouth as he held the underside of her jaw.
“They do,” she confirmed, the way she was able to speak despite not moving her mouth still messing with his head. “Do y—rs not?”
“Nope. Only once.”
She attempted to tilt her head, but quickly returned it when it left the embrace of his palm. “Only once?”
He nodded. “Yeah, sometime a few years after birth. They’re replaced with the teeth I have now. Don’t get any new ones, so we gotta take care of ‘em.”
“Birth?” The Malkrin’s eyes widened. “You were not cr—ted as you are now?”
A shock of stress poured down his spine like a bucket of ice water, raising the hairs on his back. Fuck. How did he let that slip? He was supposed to have just appeared from the sky to her, right…? He was doing so well for so long in keeping that in. God, had he really gotten so comfortable with the paladin that he simply forgot what he was to her? His teeth clenched, a huff of air escaping his nostrils as he lightly shook his head. It was a bit too late to backtrack. It could be explained vaguely and brushed off, right?
“Yeah. I was born,” he affirmed flatly. His hand dropped away from Shar’s muzzle, her head falling an inch or two before she registered that she couldn’t keep leaning into his touch. “That’s it for measurements, so you’re free to leave.”
A frown carved through her small smile. “I… See… F—give me if I have brought up someth—g improper.”
His exhalation burned through his frustration at himself, his hand running through his hair to wash away the spike of anxiety. “You’re fine. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Th-Then I shall take my leave,” the massive alien stated softly.
He nodded, feeling a little regretful for pushing the kindhearted Malkrin away as he shuffled back to his desk. Tracy was still sitting atop it, giving him a disappointed reaction with low brows, forcing a pointed reaction from him. “What?”
The technician took a long inhale before shrugging. “Nothin’.”
“…Alright.”
The rolling chair squeaked lightly as he rested himself, his hands already going through the motions of opening the computer and the blueprint folders. There were plenty of tabs open of sensors and motor assemblies he hadn’t closed from the previous night. That wasn’t even mentioning the pile of notes he had on proper radio-protective methods, their corners bent from his frequent flipping through them.
“Soooo…” The short black-haired woman leaned forward from her perch atop the only clear part of his desk. “Can I help you with your ‘comparing options’ work, mister busyman?”
“Sure…” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, raising a brow. “How much do you know about armor?”
- - - - -
“No way. The back support is a must, so you can have extra plating over your shoulders and chest.” Tracy pointed out from her seat beside Harrison’s, all but forcing him to pause his Malkrin gas mask designing to give her argument his full attention.
He calmly took his hands off the mouse and keyboard. “A back support needs leg assistants, which means I’ll need to have at least a fifteen pound battery pack somewhere. Those kinds of exosuits are either all in or not at all. You can go full armor and engine, or lightweight protection and simple limb support.”
“So you’re just gonna go out there with normal armor? Just run-of-the-mill plates and gear? Those fucking things would go through that shit like butter! I know we can’t make synthetic muscle yet, but at least consider wearing something a bit more. Please. Even Sharky has heavy armor!”
Harrison pinched the bridge of his nose, his brows furrowed. “Do I look like a several-hundred kilogram monster of pure muscle to you? I’m more than willing to put on a few extra kilos for protection, but I’m trying to weigh the pros and cons of putting on more armor rather than more equipment. I’d rather fifty pounds of magazines and ammo than fifty pounds of armor. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah yeah… You and your storage space…” she mumbled, swiping through a few more images on her data pad when a familiar Mars-pattern suit showed up, catching his eye.
“Hey, wait, pull that one up…”
She rotated the tablet for him to see a little better—despite already being shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “This one? What’s so special about it?”
He analyzed the few pieces of equipment on screen, noting the rusty-orange and tan color scheme, the old Martian-American flag attached to its breastplate, and the iconic quad-nod integrated helmet. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “That’s… We have that in our blueprints?”
She raised a brow, clearly confused. “Whaddya mean?”
“That’s an Orbital Drop Ranger’s standard kit,” he stated slowly, a simmering sense of awe bubbling up—why the hell was it in their blueprints folder? “It was used during the Sino-Venusian incursion of southern Mars. It still has the Old Earth American flag embedded into it, so you know it’s pre twenty-two-hundred C.E.”
“Oh shit… Pre-St.Loual’s construction? This is ancient, then, huh? Would it be any good?” She leaned in closer to him, eying the tablet further.
“Does it have the assembly view of the armored pieces?”
“Mmhmm.” She tapped a few icons, showing an isometric, exploded view of all the parts and their individual components.
It was a piece of history alright. The armor was produced just about the time when Mars was connecting their orbital stations and ground colonies to work in tandem, allowing for specialized forces to be trained in space and launched anywhere across the planet from drop pods in mere minutes, leading to common nickname of ‘Minutemen’ given to the troopers. The suits were expertly designed to withstand the harsh environments of Mars and give the soldiers the ability to engage with enemy combatants for several days before extraction, though the adept units usually completed their objectives within twenty-four hours of their landing.
The helmet was very angular and blended in with the expected rocky terrain of Mars, each component taking on a sloped frontal design with rectangular prisms flowing behind—radio, breathing apparatus, and vision modules all sharing a sleek, yet bulky look in their own right. It reminded him of some in-atmosphere ships, with the overhanging visor above the quad-nod viewport being the only non-aerodynamic pieces.
The chest and legs were a bit different, following the design of late twenty-second-century operators with tan lightweight rigs, and ammunition pouches alongside armored plates that ran from the shoulders to wrists in segments. There was a rusty-orange undersuit beneath it all for the purpose of keeping air in, which required some sturdy polymer structures to ensure it didn’t rip. Then, of course, there were the classic shock-absorbing leg supports. They weren’t too far off what Tracy was asking about earlier, but these ones didn’t provide any assistance in moving with any motors—just straight-up structural reinforcements.
Hell, the blueprints on screen even had the mag-grip gloves used to scale domes, buildings, and satellites alike. There was no doubt that the Orbital Drop Rangers had some of the coolest equipment on Mars, especially considering that it was the last to keep the ‘operator’ look… It was such a shame the government decided the orb-like helmets and rounded bubble armors were more effective.
“Hey, you know what?” he asked the technician, a shot of excitement in his voice. “This might actually work out as a suitable armor replacement.”
She perked up, her brows raised. “Oh? Actually?”
He shrugged, trying to play off the smirk plastered on his face. “Wouldn’t need a horrible amount of changes to work for our purposes. Just need to remove the oxygen converter on the back and put a gas mask replacement in the front portion of the helmet. Plus, we could probably get rid of the airtight aspect and just keep the undersuit for scratch protection. And, most importantly, it’s radio-protective.”
“Meets all your criteria, then?” She tapped through some UI interfaces, sending the armor assembly to Harrison’s monitor, which he accepted quickly.
“Sure does.” He readily clicked through the different parts and systems to differentiate what needed to be kept. “We have the resources for it, and all it needs is a layer of cadmium plus a few replacements. Definitely doesn’t need the heads-up display since there’s nothing for it to interact with either, so that’ll save on print time and materials too. Shame I cut up the beard… the Orbital Drop Rangers were allowed to have some cool ones.”
The tradeswoman scooted in even closer, practically resting her chin on his shoulder and watching him sift through the working parts. “Yeah, rest in peace, beard. Still, your armor situation is solved. What about the Malkrin?”
“I’ll be working on their gas masks, then I was thinking I’d use another one of your modeled armors for their protection since they’ve helped Shar a hell of a lot. Do you have any recommendations?”
“Mmmmm…” She looked up in thought, a smile forming along her cheeks. “You know, until we can make them any real power armor, I was thinking just some regular phobos-pattern armor. Could color ‘em based on their skin too.”
“Phobos-pattern armor?” he hummed to himself, clicking through the folder to find it. It was just as bulky as Shar’s armor, except it appeared a good bit smoother, with more rounded edges compared to her horns-and-spike-lined gauntlets and pauldrons. The blue suit Tracy was proposing didn’t have the four-armed protection compared to the chaos version, but it certainly had the same thickness of its metal plates. “Looks like it’d work pretty well. Does it have any electric components or anything?”
“No…” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not so good with designing that stuff in the modeling program I did the WarHarberd stuff in. Could add in more sophisticated leg support or whatever if you gave me time, but for now it’s just maneuverable slabs of alloy.”
“I think that’s all we need for the time being.” He shrugged. “I just don’t want the others to be vulnerable to getting cut up by the little spider-crab grunts.”
“As long as it works for what we need, then.” Her elbow poked into his arm. “Here, how about I take care of that armor stuff while you finish up the gas masks? They need the extra arm slots too, yeah?”
“I’d actually appreciate that a lot.” He offered her a back-palm fist bump, to which she eagerly took, taking on a grin that he mirrored. “Thanks, Trace.”
“Don’t mention it. I wish work was always just doing my hobbies like this.”
\= = = = =
A grand pylon of metal construction taller than the mightiest female’s frills stood atop the beach. Blue-scaled surfaces extended near the foot of the tower, gathering the power of the sun itself. The lattice layering upon their sides hid the weaving wires and Goddess-blessed machinery. A staff the same as Shar’khee’s peeked from its top, the glass eye on its side given a wide view of the sandy environment it resided on, the defense it now provided becoming absolute. The aura it exuded as a creature of pure metal was awe-inspiring, its mere presence a showing of Harrison’s might and domain.
No abhorrent would dare step foot upon the meadow’s rolling hills, for such a mistake would ensure their immediate execution for encroaching upon his settlement—the ‘fifty-cal-e-bur’ bullet is not one to rend any beast with only simple injuries, especially with three hundred of them available at once.
The maroon-skinned paladin treaded up the hill, having completed her task of setting up the last turret. The craftsman, the juvenile, and the lumberjack had also assisted with its setup, pulling their weight in both mind and muscles to piece the components together. They completed a few others around the modules already, but this one was done without the star-sents’ oversight. The four Malkrin had practiced and learned enough to be entrusted with such.
The idea of Harrison having enough confidence in them sparked much conviction in the group, each of them more than eager to prove him right—none more so than Shar’khee herself, of course.
She finally returned to the workshop, the sun’s last rays pressing into the back of her head and frills as she crouched beneath the doorway, a small gnawing hunger for dinner digging within her stomach. The cacophony of machines soon reached her ears, the sounds of their efforts almost working in tandem with the strange melodic music playing from an unseen source above her.
Tracy was in her corner, working on new beings of metal as always. The bright lights above were turned off in favor of smaller, warmer emplacements atop her surrounding circle of desks. A hard worker, that star-sent was, though both of them were like that, the paladin supposed. Their kind was certainly intent on keeping their hands busy.
Shar’khee passed through the snakes of machines, finding her way to Harrison’s desk with an increasingly strong sway in her tail. He was working with a black object with light gray accents. It appeared to be partially flexible, yet firm in other places—notably, a large glass fixture on one side of it. There was very little she could make out about its purpose, but with the delicate touches he applied, it appeared to be quite important.
Her tongue clicked twice, garnering the attention of the Creator. He paused his work, swiveling his chair to face her and revealing a long blue-leaf jutting from his mouth. Her male appeared quite tired, but his voice did not show it.
“Oh, Shar, what’s up? Did y’all need any help with the last turret?”
She shook her head. “We do not n—d such, for it is completed. Would you care to join me for din—r? The rest of the settlem—t is enjoying their meals as of now. ”
He raised his brows before looking back at the myriad of notes, tools, and materials atop his cluttered desk. “Well, I’m kinda busy, but…” His jaw rolled around in contemplation. “Here. Let’s just test this thing real quick.”
Her head tilted. “What sh—l we be testing?”
“Your gas mask… er, well, a Malkrin gas mask. Kneel down real quick, I’ll run ya through putting it on.” He stepped off his chair and grabbed the equipment, uncomfortably rotating his shoulders. How long was he sitting on that chair? The male approached her and she did as requested. “I had the sewist help me with some of the design. Never considered you guys would ever wear hats.”
She nodded. “It is unh—lthy for one to have their frills touched by the sun for so long. Adequate shade is a must, and trees are not so p—valent along farm land.”
“Mmhmm. Shame this is just a mask… Alright, this might be a bit uncomfortable, but it’ll do the job.”
He stepped forward and slipped the black apparel onto her snout, pushing it over her face until it pressed against the sides of her head. A cool material rubbed against her skin, locking her into its embrace. It was encapsulating, surrounding her wholly.
Her breaths strengthened as she allowed the mask to cover her, a short shock of nervousness riding down her spine. She was only now registering how vulnerable she was, allowing him to possibly suffocate her… but she stayed put, keeping her four palms rested within her lap as he continued to apply the straps around her ears. She would allow it. She trusted him with her life. She would not falter.
The cords around the back of her head were tight, a few of which went along both sides of her frills, pushing up against their sides. He kept going, ensuring a ‘seal,’ but it was getting much too—
Pop.
A lightning bolt of pain rolled throughout the top of her head, sending her reeling. It stung for the briefest of moments, but its effects rebounded through her entire body, short sparks pulsing from its origin. She felt nothing but its agonizing hold for several more moments as the rest of her body caught up.
When her eyes opened once more, she found herself on the floor and staring at the ceiling. The star-sent rushed to her side, appearing to ask many questions while looking over her head, but all she heard was a piercing ring and the gruff vocalization he made whenever he shared his intent. No words reached her mind, only the now faint phantom pains from where her frills met her skull. It put everything in a haze, her eyes barely settling on her dearest’s, despite how nauseous she had become.
His deft hands quickly worked to loosen the straps, practically ripping them off until his voice suddenly reached her, like breaching the surface of the water. His voice was deep, attempting to be calculating, yet despite his calmly created stoic demeanor… she could feel his panic, his sheer worry almost flooding her senses through practiced medical queries. She slowly sat up on the floor, holding herself with two arms while the other pair quelled the kneeling male, assuring him that she was alright with their weight resting atop his shoulders.
“I am well, dearest Harrison. Do not fret for me. The straps were simply too tight.”
His anxious breaths barely slowed, narrowly allowing for his exclamation. “Too tight? Shar, you practically blacked out!”
“Too tight upon my frills, I mean. There was a pain there for a few moments, but it has passed,” she returned calmly, softly kneading his stiff shoulders with the joints of her digits.
He exhaled sharply, matching her gaze with regret in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Shar. I should’ve known. I was just trying to see how…” He paused, resting his palm atop her forearm. “Nevermind. I just… Are you alright? Should I get you to the med bay for a quick scan?”
“I do not believe that to be necessary, no.”
His guard finally fell. “If… If you say so. Guess I have to redo the straps then. Definitely gotta make sure they’re not pressing on your frills like that.”
She smiled, appreciating his dedication. “Would you like my assistance?”
“As long as you don’t have anything else to do.” He shrugged, his shoulders barely moving upward against her massaging hands.
“There is no greater wish of mine than to be by your side,” she stated warmly.
He was frozen, the soft ministrations of his digits along her arm slowly stopping in contrast to the red flush growing from his cheeks to his ears. The crack of a smirk on his face finally with a short, heart-warming chuckle brought the statue back to life after a few moments. “You know… that’s probably the sweetest thing I’ve heard for years.”
Her brows raised in subtle surprise at his response. “It… was not intended to be such… However… you are more than welcome. You must understand by now that I am speaking only the truth.”
The two of them sat there in relative silence amongst the desks and machines; her half laying on the ground with her hands on his shoulder, and him on his knees by her side, a singular hand running up and down her comparatively large forearm. She felt… weak, in a way. A vibrating sensation rummaged through her stomach, attempting to pull her muscles and nerves astray.
It was warm, just like his palm, each motion of his hand sending lightning through her skin. The upward curl of her lips into her cheeks was suddenly an insurmountable force, incapable of being put down by a thousand females. There was a tear within her to either look away or… close the distance, and she suddenly found looking anywhere but his curious green eyes to be a waste of her time.
Her talons wrapped further around his shoulders and his back, ever so slightly bringing him into her embrace—
“A-HEM.” A voice cut the moment down to its knees. “The fuck happened here?” Tracy’s swift interjection caused the paladin to flinch backwards, allowing her to see that Harrison’s other hand had been hovering right beneath her snout. The female star-sent wore a furrowed brow and crossed arms, looking down at them. “I heard a crash and came over. Are you two alright?”
Harrison cleared his throat, ever-so-subtly scooting away from the paladin. “Uh, yeah. Shar fell because, um, I tied the gas mask a lil’ too tight.”
The artificer wore an expression that told of her disbelief. “She fell because of the gas mask?”
“It was something with her frills.” The male returned with a shrug, picking himself off the floor before offering the paladin a hand up.
She took it, despite not requiring it, and wiped off some loose dust from her pants. The three of them quickly returned to work soon after, with both her and the black-haired star-sent joining Harrison in his quest to produce the gas mask. She was much less… What did the Creator call it? Bubbly? Yes, that was it. She was much less bubbly than usual, sometimes sending a cold yet emotionless glare toward Shar’khee… Nevertheless, the two females offered input on the design and applied help where they could, eventually creating the final piece of equipment.
Tracy commented on its looks, apparently drawing inspiration from the Leviathan itself, as she believed it to be like that of a ‘Sea Dragon’s.’ The maw-covering portion held two cylindrical canisters on the adjacent sides, the bottom portion being capable of distention, so that the user’s mouth may open somewhat. Its motion created what the female star-sent believed to be ‘the coolest teeth design on a mask’ she’d ever seen with how the separation formed alternating triangles.
The monster-like appearance was furthered by her own frills and horns that peeked out from behind the mask. That was not even mentioning the see-through visor that formed a malicious glare of sharp brows. The paladin looked through a hand-held mirror, finding it difficult to disagree with the look. She could imagine the horror on a fisherwoman’s face as such a terrifying creature approached from the depths.
And yet, despite its nightmarish visage, it was apparel designed to save lives, not take them—much unlike the unassuming metal rods that spewed fire with a mere flick of a lever. Curious indeed. The star-sents were seemingly never out of surprises. They even spoke of grand robots and firearms larger than Shar’khee herself as possible future projects.
Only time could tell what machinations of alloy would be birthed from their hands.
- - - - -
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Deltas from OP FAbbibo

• 1 delta from OP to VanillaIsActuallyYum for "OK but you're cherry-picking here, hoping that you can talk down the few that this person mentioned ..."
  
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Whenever the argument over the greatest managers of all time comes up, there are usually two criteria that are used to judge them: their trophy haul or their tactical influence on the wider game. So Alex Ferguson is considered the GOAT because he's won the most trophies over a decades long career, while Michels/Cruyff/Sacchi are in the conversation because even though they haven't won as much as Fergie or Ancelotti, they introduced ideas that revolutionised the game and influenced generations of coaches and managers.
What makes Pep unique is he has the best of both worlds. He has the trophy haul of a Alex Ferguson/Bob Paisley, but also has the tactical influence of a Cruyff/Sacchi all at once. Take a look at his CV. You can't argue with it. Packed full of trophies. Pep has consistently won and dominated in multiple leagues since 2008. Won two trebles for two different teams. Raising Man City from a good club to an elite footballing enterprise. Add in the multiple records he has. I could go on.
His influence on the wider game - with his adaptation of the Cruyff philosophy - has been so great that everyone wants to play like Pep. He has a lot of imitators and disciples. Clubs like Arsenal and Chelsea have hired coaches because they were associated with Pep and thus they can transplant a Pep inspired possession based philosophy onto their club. What's more, Pep is ahead of the game. He introduces a tactical innovation (e.g inverted fullbacks) and by the time the imitators have caught onto it, he has already moved on to a different idea.
I'm not sure there is a manager like Pep who has married winning mountains of trophies as well as tactically revolutionising the world of football and leaving a wider legacy like he did. That's what makes him unique and the greatest in my eyes.

**Me:** 42F, no kids, never married, six-figure income, homeowner, Aquarius.
**Him:** 46M, two teenage boys, divorced, income unknown, stopped working to trade full-time (not profitable), renter, Scorpio, alpha male.
We have been dating for 8 months and have already discussed marriage several times. He hasn't proposed, but we talked about getting married at the end of 2025 or summer 2026.
At the beginning of our relationship, we discussed my best friend. He is male, married, and we've been best friends for more than 25 years. We never dated. I'm the godmother of one of his daughters. We have a strong bond but clear boundaries. I don’t call his house randomly, and we don’t go out except for special events, even though we live in the same city. We talk on the phone 1-2 times a week and see each other every 4-6 months at family or friend functions.
A few months into the relationship, my boyfriend asked me to distance myself from my best friend because he felt our bond was too strong and profound. He believes my best friend is a dominant male figure in my life, which he sees as a problem. We argued about it because of his approach. I tried to explain that we were just friends and never lovers. I felt pressured to let go of something important to me, but we reached a compromise. I distanced myself from my friend as requested.
However, we have had 2-3 major fights about him because my boyfriend doesn't trust that I'll choose him over my best friend. He wants me to be a "ride or die" partner who will do anything for love, but I'm not that person.
In the last 3 months, my boyfriend and I have been on an emotional rollercoaster because he's been battling cancer. We're waiting to start radiation in a few weeks. During this difficult period, I've been supporting him: going to the hospital every day I can, paying some of his bills, messaging friends on his behalf, cooking for him, and dealing with his emotions—fear, frustration, depression, and love. Meanwhile, I've been managing my high-pressure job, business, workouts, house, and parents.
One of his requirements is that I share all details of my conversations about him with certain people because he doesn’t trust them and fears they will manipulate me. He wants to show people that we are a team and expects me to always have his back. I'm a nice person who doesn’t see the bad in people, so I don’t always question their intentions. My best friend is one of the people he wants to know everything I say about him. I've been reprimanded for not telling him something I mentioned to my best friend but forgot to tell him.
We fought this week because he feels I didn't defend him in a conversation with my best friend. My boyfriend is disappointed that my best friend hasn't called or texted him since he was hospitalized 2 months ago. My best friend and I have been talking every few days since he was hospitalized, but I didn't tell my boyfriend because I knew he would be upset that we speak so often. I know I'm wrong for not telling him, but I won't apologize because I also need moral support while supporting him.
The morning after the fight, I received this message:
**Him:** Good morning. I hope you slept well. I woke up thinking about last night's conversation. Remember when you asked what could break us? This situation is already breaking us. No matter how much I love you and feel like you’re my forever home, until I see that you’ve put me first in your life, I will not move forward or marry you. Words and intentions aren’t enough for me. Feeling like I’m not worth being first in your life is killing me inside. At some point, I’m going to check out and look for it somewhere else.
**Me:** I’m sorry I make you feel this way. Sorry I’m not acting how you expect. You won’t move forward? Are you telling me you’re done?
**Him:** If you feel I’m not worth first place in your life, then yes, I’m out. I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.
**Me:** Are you serious? I’m sorry you feel this way. I’m doing everything I can to show you how important you are to me, that you have first place, but I realize it’s not enough. I’m sorry. I feel like everything else I do is worth nothing.
**Him:** Ok... you say you give me first place... show me how. Tell me when was the last time you showed I had first place.
**Me:** Are you talking about you vs. him? Or in general? I feel nothing else matters right now.
**Him:** Yes, you are right... nothing else matters right now. I am talking about me vs. the other man in your life. When did you ever show me I had first place?
**Me:** Sorry, I can’t because the steps I take are not what you want.
After that conversation, I went on with my day, which was horrible and unproductive. I only texted him to make sure he was okay since he’s alone at home after major surgery and can’t do much.
The next day, after the regular salutations:
**Him:** We can’t avoid each other forever. We’ll have to see each other sooner or later to dot the "i". Let me know what works best for you.
**Me:** You’re right. I’ll let you know. I need to make myself a priority for the next few days. Let me know if you need help with your meals.
**Him:** Oh wow. Okay... I understand. Not sure if this is coming from anger or something else, but this isn’t what you and I do. That was way too harsh. That’s not how we deal with problems and turmoil. We talk until we figure it out... we don’t do that.
**Me:** Your words from yesterday made me reflect on what really matters to me.
**Him:** Okay... I understand.
It’s Sunday, and the fight was last Wednesday. I'm supposed to do groceries for him today, and we haven’t talked yet. What should I do? Is this a major red flag? If he decides to leave, I think I'm at peace. I will be heartbroken, but...

Deadlift stances can make a significant impact on your exercise performance, comfort, safety, and results. Choosing the proper stance for your body type and athletic level is essential for getting the most out of your deadlift.
But the question is, how wide should you stand, where should you place your feet, and which areas of your body will be most affected depending on your choice? Let’s find out.
What is impact of deadlift stances? Deadlift stances determine the type of exercise you’ll get. Wide stance deadlifts have a shorter range of motion (ROM) and hit different muscle groups than a typical narrow stance deadlift. Experimenting with different deadlift stances can diversify your workout and help you hit new goals.
What Is Deadlift Stance (Why Is Important, What Does It Affect)
Deadlift stances refer to the foot placement and leg position when performing a deadlift exercise and its variations. In general, we categorize them under narrow or wide stance deadlifts.
Even slightly altering between different deadlift stances can noticeably change the overall exercise dynamic. The deadlift stance width is an important point of consideration. This affects several exercise aspects, including the range of motion, the amount of weight you can lift, the primary muscle groups targeted, the distribution of forces throughout your body, your center of gravity, and even the risk of injury.
A wider stance typically has a shorter range of motion than a close stance deadlift. This can give you more leverage with your hips, but it also forces you to lean forward more during the initial portion of the exercise, which can impact your balance and stability. Meanwhile, a narrower deadlift has a longer range of motion, but it starts in a more upright position and will target your quads and posterior chain more.
Your deadlift feet position can change which muscles you’re working out, too. For example, if your toes are straight, such as with a conventional deadlift, you should feel more “burn” in your quads and hamstrings. Meanwhile, if you point out with your toes at a larger angle, such as with a Sumo deadlift, you will be using your hips and adductors more.
Finally, it’s important to note that a wider stance may put more stress on your hips and lower back, while a narrower stance puts more stress on the knees and quads. Keep this in mind so you can adjust your stance to better fit your workout goals and your physical health.
WBCM Deadlift Exercise
Where Should You Feel Deadlifts?
Based on the targeted muscle groups, the area where you should feel deadlifts hit the most is your posterior chain. This primarily includes your lower back, glutes, and hamstrings. Additionally, you should also experience activation in your quadriceps, core muscles, and calves during various stages of the lift. Lastly, since grip strength is a crucial part of deadlifts, you can expect to feel robust muscle activation in the lower arm – particularly your forearms and fingers- especially during an olympic bar deadlift.
Get a 2-week Weightlifting Program as a bonus for the subscription to kickstart your training plan!
What Is The Difference Between Common Deadlift Stances?

1. Conventional Deadlift Stance

The conventional or standard deadlift stance is the most fundamental and widely used variation of this exercise, making it a staple in many strength training programs. Beginner lifters typically start with this stance, so it should be familiar to you if you’ve done deadlifts before. Although this is considered the most basic variation of deadlift stances, it’s by no means easier than the others and requires practice to perform correctly and safely.
To assume a conventional deadlift stance, you first need to stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, although some athletes may opt for a slightly wider or narrower stance depending on their body shape and size. During this stance, your feet should be pointing forward under a slight outward angle of no more than 10-15 degrees, which you’re free to adjust based on your foot size and comfort.
How to Do A Conventional Deadlift Correctly
The conventional deadlift stance targets muscles in the lower body and posterior chain, including the glutes, hamstrings, and lower back. As you lift the barbell off the ground, you should feel the tension build in your hamstrings and glutes. As the bar passes your knee point and your upper body starts to rise, the tension should transfer over to your core and lower back. At the height of the exercise, also known as the lockout phase, you should feel weight distributed throughout the entire body.

1. Sumo Deadlift

The Sumo deadlift stance is a popular variation of the deadlift exercise. To assume the sumo deadlift stance width, you need to stand with your feet at or slightly wider than shoulder-width apart, with your toes pointing outward at an angle of roughly 45 degrees. This stance requires greater mobility in the hips, groin, and ankles, which can make it more challenging than a conventional stance depending on your mobility and flexibility.
The sumo deadlift stance targets many of the same muscles as the conventional deadlift, including the glutes, hamstrings, and lower back, but also puts more emphasis on the adductors and quadriceps. However, thanks to an overall shorter range of motion (ROM) compared to conventional deadlifts, it puts less stress on the back and more on the hips and knees, making it a preferred compound exercise for lower body development.
HOW TO SUMO DEADLIFT ft. Larry
As you lift the bar off the ground in a sumo stance, you should feel the tension build in your adductors and quads. As the bar passes your knee point and your upper body starts to rise, the tension should transfer over to your glutes, hamstrings, and lower back. At the lockout phase, the weight should feel evenly redistributed throughout the entire body, just like in the conventional deadlift stance.

1. Deficit Deadlift Stance

The Deficit deadlift is a variation of the conventional deadlift that requires standing on a raised platform, usually 2-4 inches high, to increase the range of motion for the exercise. This increased range of motion demands more force when lifting the barbell, making the exercise more challenging and recruiting additional muscle fibers in the legs and back.
Research indicates that deficit deadlifts can help improve strength and muscle activation in the lower body, particularly in the hamstrings, glutes, and erector spinae muscles. Additionally, the increased range of motion can help improve mobility and flexibility in the ankles, knees, and hips. However, this variation is better suited for experienced lifters who are well-versed in deadlift variations.
Deficit Deadlift
To perform a deficit deadlift, simply find a 2-4 inch elevated surface to stand on. Most lifters you see doing this variation either stand on the edge of their lifting platform or use a thick weight plate. Place the barbell on the floor below you and simply perform a regular olympic bar deadlift from this elevated position.

1. Squat Stance Deadlift

The last variation worth mentioning is the Squat stance deadlift. This is an emerging term for an exercise that’s not yet widely recognized, although it has its advocates in both coaching and physiotherapy. As the name suggests, the exercise requires you to perform a deadlift from a squat stance, which means standing with your feet shoulder-width apart, with toes pointing very slightly outward.
DEADLIFTS MADE BETTER!!!! Squat Stance Deadlift
The overall stance, including the exercise’s range of motion and impact on the body, is practically identical to the Sumo stance. However, due to the forward-pointing toes, the Squat stance deadlift requires a greater amount of mobility in the hips, knees, and ankles, increasing the overall risk of injury in these areas. This makes it difficult to recommend for most people over Sumo deadlifts. That said, it’s worth mentioning simply because anatomy varies from person to person, so it may be worth trying to see if it works better for you than a typical Sumo stance.
How To Choose The Deadlift Stance (Factors To Consider When Choosing The Stance For You)
The last variation worth mentioning is the Squat stance deadlift. This is an emerging term for an exercise that’s not yet widely recognized, although it has its advocates in both coaching and physiotherapy. As the name suggests, the exercise requires you to perform a deadlift from a squat stance, which means standing with your feet shoulder-width apart, with toes pointing very slightly outward.
The overall stance, including the exercise’s range of motion and impact on the body, is practically identical to the Sumo stance. However, due to the forward-pointing toes, the Squat stance deadlift requires a greater amount of mobility in the hips, knees, and ankles, increasing the overall risk of injury in these areas. This makes it difficult to recommend for most people over Sumo deadlifts. That said, it’s worth mentioning simply because anatomy varies from person to person, so it may be worth trying to see if it works better for you than a typical Sumo stance.
WBCM Deadlifting Athlete
How Much Can The Average Man And Woman Deadlift?

1. Muscle Engagement

Deadlifts tend to hit the same primary muscle groups regardless of the variation.
That said, altering between deadlift feet position and stances changes up the total ROM, letting you put more emphasis on certain muscle groups. As previously discussed, the longer ROM stances – such as the conventional or deficit deadlift – target the posterior chain to a greater degree. Meanwhile, shorter ROM stances, like the Sumo or Squat deadlift, are better at targeting the lower body, particularly the hips and adductors.

1. Athlete Size

Research suggests that one of the most important factors to consider when choosing your deadlift stance width is your shape and size. According to the study, athletes with larger body sizes and longer limbs tend to feel more comfortable with deadlift stance variations that have a larger range of motion, such as the conventional or deficit deadlift. On the other hand, athletes with shorter limbs and a shorter torso relative to their limb length find the shorter range of motion stances, like the Sumo or Squat stance, more comfortable.

1. Personal Health

The most comfortable deadlift feet position for you may depend on your personal health, such as your injury history and chronic pain. When selecting your stance, keep in mind that a wide leg deadlift generates more force from the hip and knee area and puts less stress on your back, while the opposite is true for narrow deadlifts. Based on your medical history, it should be easy to determine which is best for you, however, consulting a doctor or physical therapist is always a good idea.
WBCM Deadlift Workout

1. Fitness Level

Your overall fitness level may play a role in determining which deadlift stance is best suited for you. For beginners, it is recommended to start with a standard close stance deadlift to learn the proper exercise technique and familiarize themselves with their maximum weight.
Experienced athletes can experiment with various deadlift stances to find what works best for them. However, their joint mobility, particularly in the hips, knees, and ankles, can impact their ability to assume the correct starting position. If someone has limited mobility, they may need to adjust their stance to compensate.
Deadlift Stance Common Mistakes

1. Barbell Distance

In a proper deadlift stance, the barbell should be directly over the midfoot during the starting position, and even lightly touching or grazing your shins as you lift it up. Placing the bar too far from your legs during your initial stance will require greater power output from your lower back, which is a common reason for deadlift injury.

1. Back Arching

Another common mistake when lifting dead weight is not maintaining a straight spine. If you need to arch your back to reach the barbell when assuming the starting position, then the stance you are attempting may not be adequate for your current mobility and flexibility level.
WBCM Deadlifting Correct Stance

1. Hip Height

To assume a proper deadlift stance, it is essential to position your hips at the right height. If you place your hips too high, generating power from them will become challenging, and your back will bear most of the initial load. This can result in difficulty lifting the weight and may lead to injury. On the other hand, if you place your hips too low, you will create a longer range of motion, placing stress on your lower back and hamstrings, and making the lift more challenging.
Therefore, the ideal height level of your hips for your body size is slightly above your knees. This position helps keep your back straight while aligning your shoulders, palms, and feet correctly. Proper alignment will help ensure that you can generate power from your hips while maintaining good form, reducing the risk of injury and allowing for safely and effectively lifting dead weight.
WBCM Deadlifting Stance Review
Should Your Deadlift Stance And Squat Stance Be The Same?
No, the deadlift and squat are two separate exercises with distinct objectives. In a regular squat, a wider stance is adopted to enable the hips to move downwards to or below knee level and then upwards again, all the while maintaining an upright torso position and keeping your balance. Conversely, in deadlifts, the hips remain at a relatively similar level and only flex forward and backward, while the torso sways back and forth.
That said, there is a hybrid exercise called the squat stance deadlift. However, this wide leg deadlift stance is unique and has its own purpose, as discussed above. In general, your standard deadlift and squat stances won’t be the same.
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FAQ
What Is Better Conventional VS Sumo Deadlift Stance?
The conventional and Sumo deadlift overlap in terms of strength development and health benefits. In terms of results, the sumo stance tends to be slightly better at lower body development, while the conventional narrow stance deadlift works your overall posterior chain, particularly the lower back.
More importantly, research suggests that athlete size can also determine the best type of deadlift on a person-to-person basis. According to the study, athletes with lengthier proportions performed better in the conventional deadlift. Conversely, those with shorter proportions showed increased performance in the sumo deadlift.
Where Should You Point Your Toes In Your Deadlift Stance?
During a typical close stance deadlift your toes should be slightly pointed out, no more than a 15-degree angle. This slightly angled toe position creates external rotation at the hips, which helps with stability and explosive power. Additionally, when you point your toes outward you should feel higher muscle activation in the glutes and hamstrings, which are two major muscle groups targeted by deadlift.
During Sumo deadlifts, the ideal toe spread is roughly 45 degrees. This wide leg deadlift stance points the knees and hips outward and allows them to stay in line with your feet and flex naturally, improving your balance, increasing your weight max, and preventing injury.
How Much Can An Average Person Deadlift?
Depending on the individual’s build, a man can typically deadlift anywhere from (77 kg – 131) 170 to 290 pounds when performing a traditional variation of the exercise. The typical average deadlift weight for female is around half of their body weight, while intermediate lifters are able to deadlift approximately 1.5 times their body weight.
In-Depth Deadlift Stance Breakdown - Live Seminar
Conclusion
The deadlift stances you use will determine the type of exercise you will get. Your leg width and foot placement affect the range of motion, targeted muscle groups, maximum capacity, center of balance, force distribution, as well as injury risk. Trying out different deadlift stances can help you find the one most comfortable based on your physical health and preferences.
Wide stance deadlifts reduce the range of motion and increase lower body development, while also reducing stress on the back. Conversely, a narrow stance deadlift has a longer range of motion and puts more exercise focus on the posterior chain.
Do you practice deadlifts as part of your workout routine? If so, which stance do you prefer? Leave a comment to let us know and don’t forget to follow our social media pages where we post lots of valuable fitness content.

I can't help but feel my girlfriend was taken advantage of and abused her whole life.
My girlfriend grew up in an abusive environment and her parents were super controlling so she also grew up isolated.
When she got to college she hooked up with two guys in the span of a week and has felt a lot of remorse for it and has a deep hatred of men.
She also accuses me of trying to pretend to be nice and caring to get in her pants which isn't true.
From what I gather those experiences were the only two sexual experiences she has which I asked when we talked about it because it's been bothering me and I'm trying to understand where she's coming from.
Both guys fucked her and kicked her to the curb afterwards as well as being verbally abusive during the sex. Not in the fun way in a bullying hateful way. No foreplay no oral nothing. I asked her if those guys pretended to be into her to get in her pants and what's why she's accusing me of doing it and she said she doesn't want to talk about it. The whole vibe around sex with her screams SA. Which is something I have endured myself .
I really suspect she was made to feel cared about and used for sex at best and possibly pressured or scared to say no at worst.
It all just had an icky feeling to it. The general vibe is more abuse and less no strings attached fun. It bothers me to no end. There's been times I've tried to ask if she was hurt and she just shuts the convo down I don't bring it up unless she does, but I do worry about her. It bothers me most that someone I have grown to love and value felt the need for casual sex to feel a human connection and then was thrown away as soon as the dudes got off. She said she did it because she was lonely and never had male attention so it felt good to get that attention. Yet when she talks about it she talks about the disparaging comments the guys made about her and her body. It makes me sick for real. I told her I think she was taken advantage of in some capacity and that the dudes seem like real pieces of shit
If someone pretends to like someone to gain access to them sexually that feels like some form of assault. My insecurities about hookups was replaced with anger. It's common and somewhat understandable to be a little insecure about hookups. I was don't ask don't tell on my relationship for a reason. I've always had a policy of I'm not gonna hook up with a girl that I wouldn't date because I don't want to hurt anyone and if I don't wanna be seen with the girl I'm going to be respectful and leave her alone even if she wants it so in short I've never hooked up.
My anger is at her family who raised her abusive and controlling environment. Her mom for letting men hit my girlfriend and worse. Anger at The men who did it. The fact she never truly felt loved in her life and any affection came with strings attached. I'm angry at her other family who's made disparaging comments about her. I'm angry at the men that fucked her, verbally abused her and threw her away like trash. I'm angry at the fact she felt the need to be intimate with strangers who treated her with such disrespect in order to feel any sort of connection . Id feel better if it was sexual exploration and done safe sane and fully consentual without hints of coersion. Sure I'd feel a insecure again. Id rather take the insecurity over feeling pissed at abstract things from the past that I couldn't change and happened before me. It's anger with no outlet.
I know that Abused people seek comfort wherever they can. Be that substances, sex, spending, food. If my girlfriend grew up with love and acceptance I doubt she would have had these encounters. When I put myself in her place I can see why she did it. Hell I've sexted women and put myself in relationships with abusive women seeking the same comfort and connection.
I feel guilt over my relationships and women I've talked to before her. I've gathered that overall I'm more experienced than her. I've talked to more women then she has men. I've had more sexual experience even though our number is the same. Her encounters to my long term relationships. Time for time I have more experience. I feel like shit for stuff I can't change.
I get this feeling like we both "missed out" some days I think about it we would have met sooner, how better things could be for both of us.She would have at least not been with guys who preyed on her trauma, I wouldn't have had abusive ex's she's asked if we would have been friends in highschool and I told her yeah if we knew each other. She's asked if I would have dated her back then and of course I would. I think we have a beautiful relationship as is. We love each other she melts my heart and I couldn't imagine my life with anyone else, I feel that shes my other half and I'm truly in love with this woman. Stronger love than I've ever felt before. It hurts that I didn't know her sooner to protect her from some of the shit she's been through. I'm her first relationship but she's not mine. We're neither of each others first in bed. I mean it hurts me that I didn't know she existed and we'd meet and I've slept with women who treated me badly. It hurts that she has trouble feeling loved by me. I keep my anger to her family to myself I don't know them but I'm angry at them. I'll be honest I hate em and I've never even met them. They use her as the scapegoat. They've given her nothing but a life full of horrific abuse that now as an adult she blames herself for it.
I present as a loving caring boyfriend which I am. But I keep all this anger and longing for a better past for both of us to myself. It hurts holding this in. I don't know how to process it or deal with it. I'm in therapy. I try to avoid topics that make me cry. I've tiptoed around things. I don't like crying in front of people. I'm crying writing this because I'm both so sad and so angry. I wanna know why. Why people are so shitty. Why one person has to be the punching bag their entire life. Why her family has to act like that. Why the dudes who used her for sex couldn't go for anyone else but the chick who craved love and a connection, they could have at least been decent and not caused more trauma out the door.
I know as a Christian we're called to forgive. I've heard picking up trespasses is a sin, but I can't help but feel a tremendous anger. Is it that wrong to be angry on another's behalf? I feel like someone has to. She doesn't speak up for herself and has normalized everything that's happened to her. Deep down it just hurts. I made a post the other day about not being able to feel the spark and after digging deep that feeling went away and we had a conversation where I explained to her that the way she has been treated isn't okay and she deserves better, but I am left with this anger at those who's wronged me and truth be told anger at those who have wronged me especially in relationships. Me and her work hard daily to make the relationship work and overcome our anxieties and worry from the past. We love each other deeply and she's someone I want to spend my life with. I want to start a family with her. She's honestly my best friend and we get along so well. She's a beautiful soul. I feel like this is where all my anger at those who hurt her comes from because well no one deserves it.
I'm a Christian and she's not though I understand why knowing her background. My grandma always said God works in mysterious ways and my fatal flaw so to speak is being fired up on behalf of those who have been wronged. This relationship brings that front and center into every day life. Id really like for us to move on from our respective pasts and build a loving healthy future with a beautiful family.

Hi there, I’m Oriol, the developer of Gods vs Horrors. Today I’m announcing the game I’ve been working on secretly for the past 6 months.
Gods vs Horrors is a roguelike card auto-battler focusing on synergies, scaling, and positioning. You'll need to adapt to the choices offered and enemy compositions. Recruit and dismiss Gods, reroll your options, increase your devotion level to access more powerful Gods, and fight Cosmic Horrors in automated battles.
Youtube trailer
Gods vs Horrors Steam Page
The Game:
Gods vs Horrors captures the pure essence of drafting in card games, focusing on synergies, scaling, and positioning. If you love making decks more than actually playing them, this is your game.
The gameplay alternates between drafting and automated combat phases:

• In the drafting phase you’ll recruit and dismiss Gods, level up the pantheon to access stronger Gods, and roll your options. By drafting you’ll build strong synergies and scaling mechanisms, making your build exponentially more powerful than its individual components.
• Before combat, you’ll have the opportunity to position your Gods for optimal damage. Combat is automatic, easy-to-follow, and has no RNG; allowing you to understand what is going on and diagnose why you won or lost the last fight.

I plan to have 10 different mythologies in the game, of which only 5 will be present in each run, adding variety to the card pool. Additionally, the game will have 5 different bosses, with their own theme and mechanics, forcing you to adapt and develop specific strategies to counter them.
My Story
In 2022, I started making games as a side project after working for 8 years in Data Science and Management Consulting. In 2023 I released the chess roguelike The Ouroboros King. Its moderate success (20k units sold, 87% positive rating) encouraged me to quit my job and work on more ambitious projects.
Gods vs Horrors is my first game as a full-time dev and is inspired by Hearthstone’s Battlegrounds mode. I want to recreate its superb drafting experience while removing the rage-inducing lack of agency caused by bad combat RNG and facing highrollers.
I plan to release a demo soon-ish (1-2 months, the content is there but I’m polishing everything), and release in early 2025.
If you want to follow my progress, wishlist the game on Steam and join the discord.
Thanks for reading, cheers!

The Universe in its INFINITE wisom felt it was necessary to connect us, bring us together - despite the oceans and literal miles between where we started. Brought us together and let us have the most incredible chemistry/connection.
You liked my nose.
Drawn to one another like moths to fire. Spending time with and communicating you only solidified how intensely I felt. You were kindred. From your words and actions I presumed you felt it, too. And then just as abruptly as you came into my life, you were gone.
Taking everything with you. Leaving me with a gaping hole in my chest where my fragile heart once was.
It was ALL your choice. Without warning or explanation for you to cease all communication, block me, and make yourself unreachable. Leaving me abandoned, confused, hurting and alone.
To not only process what I may have possibly done to have created the most epic catastrophe - resulting in this near fatal affliction I currently am suffering through.
You see, you'd been granted access to parts of me so well hidden, and guarded for so long, I didn't even know they existed any more... This access you were granted was the masterkey - and I think you knew it. Taking full advantage. Picking my heart up, lifting it so high - making it so full... to toss it up knowing full well you had no intention of catching it again on the way back down. Letting it hit the ground, to shatter into unrecognizable pieces. Even if by some chance they could be reassembled, they can never be quite the same, never quite as whole as they once were.
And this Sweetness, This is the note I composed after I realized I could no longer call you or text you. When it was all excruciatingly fresh - because I didn't know or understand anything...and I stupidly was concerned about how you were feeling... believing you had to be hurting, too.
Darling,
Was this all a creation of my imagination and entirely one sided? I do not think I could have been so off in all that. We were both saying we missed each other so much it hurt. Now without you feels like my entire chest was torn apart, the ache so strong.
I am having a really hard time untangling you, and the ideas of you from my feelings and my mind. I think even if I do, manage to separate them, I'm always going to keep a part of your memory, of us, tucked away for the rest of my life. Because I know if this was not real, it wouldn't hurt so badly.
Yet here we are...can I say I still don't understand what I've done for you to have blocked me? If I knew I could apologize. I don't even know whether or not you will get this message...
I can hope, though.
On the off chance it does, could you please, please hear me out?
I'm going to do my very best to hold it together right now and not to cry so much that you'll not understand any of it...
And I promise as hard as this is I'll respect your decision to end things, if that is still what you ultimately want.
I don't, I never did, and I guess now that you took that choice away from me, I responded accordingly.
I mean I've never been blocked before. And I don't know if you ever have been on the receiving end, but it really sucks...
Even now, it's doing still doing so much shit to my head and has been since I figured out that blocking me is what you'd done.
Yeah, at first I was upset and angry, confused, and now, now I am left here grieving the loss of you, like you've died, only its so much worse because my brain knows you're still out there. And I still want you. And my fear is I'll always want you.
It's so overwhelming - this sadness, the frustration, and despair, and there's just so much loneliness... all amplified by my feelings of rejection, and self-doubt about everything.
All of which is leading my brain to treating these emotions - this emotional pain I'm feeling right now differently than it does my physical pain...I can't remember the last time anything hurt this badly... it feels like it's killing me. I guess now I really get why some people are said to have died of a broken heart... I'd truly rather break my bones again than feel like I do now, like this!
My heart shattered and I have been struggling with my overthinking on everything... replaying and analyzing every text, each conversation, basically all we have had since the very beginning that could have led us to this point.
Trying to pickup the broken bits and pieces to make it make sense. And I don't mean to be obtuse, yet still I'm coming up empty for making it make sense.
I really had thought... with you I was safe...
And you so wonderfully kept reassuring me, telling me not to stress - because you liked me, that you missed me, you cared.
So I let myself trust, trust you, in you, believing we were on the same page in this...
I read it all so wrong?
Or was it that it changed and I missed the signs?
Was it something I said or I did? Something that I didn’t do and should have? Was it all the videos? Or was it me, was I simply too much? Not enough?
I don't even know.
I have only ever wanted you to feel as special as you made me feel.
And being completely cut off without any warning left me blindsided, hurting, and with so many unanswered questions.
I guess now I'm here pleading with you, could you please let me know what went wrong? Could you help me understand the reasons?
Maybe if we'd agrued or you'd told me your mind had changed I'd have something to go on, but even still I'd have wanted to fix it.
Can you please not shut me out entirely? I don't think I'm deserving of that. I'm not so hateful of a person that you can hope to never have to speak with me again, right?!
Maybe?
Since I am already saying things now, without having to worry too much about how you'll take it, or if I'm scared because it's too soon or maybe even not reciprocated (that was the worst fear I had, and I guess its already sorta come true...) I'll just say it... because life is too short for regrets.
I Fell For You
I love you
I think I have since our conversation about Giraffes...
And I'm sorry, so very sorry things weren't different and that eventually loving me back wasn't what you must have wanted.
I mean, if could know what I did to make it change I would, I'd go back and do it better. You have no idea how much I would take it back/and fix this.